Foolish Wisdom
16 Sleepover Popovers
ELAINE AND I slept together. We had the minimum allowable amount of clothing between us. In her case, that was a completely transparent thong. She’d brought me a new pair of black briefs that fit tightly around my ass and had a pouch for my equipment. I don’t know what they were made of, but they were so soft just wearing them was a turn-on. The permissions were simple. Anything the rules allow as long as we aren’t rushing. Anything we want that isn’t happening, we ask for.
All I really wanted for a long time was to hold that freckled breast against my bare chest and kiss my motormouth girlfriend.
“I loved what we did at the beach, Elaine. I’ve thought about it a lot since then.”
“Even with those two Kokomo girls rubbing themselves all over you?”
“You know, I got really close to Jen and Court this summer, but I thought about every single one of my girlfriends while I was gone every day. Including you.”
“So, what did you think about the beach?”
“I was thinking how I’d like to give you a massage. I loved rubbing sunblock into your skin.”
“A massage? I think I’ll give you permission for that. And about forty-eight hours to stop.”
“I think there’s some lotion in the bathroom.”
“I always have body lotion with me when I do an overnight. It’s in my bag.” She reached into her overnight bag and handed me a bottle of unscented after bath lotion.
“Should I give you a bath first?” I asked.
“No. Just kiss me again first. Then tell me how you’d like my nearly naked body positioned.”
There is something about having a naked woman totally relaxed while you gently but firmly rub lotion into every not-so-square inch of her body. I know the terms ‘flawless skin’ and ‘freckles’ are supposed to be mutually exclusive, but to me every one of the freckles on my redhaired girlfriend was flawless. Since we’d given each other permission to do anything that was within the rules, I didn’t even hesitate to run my hands under her to tweak her nipples a little. She sighed and let me rub her arms from the pit to the fingertips. I followed the curve of her spine, stopping to give finger worship to her shoulder blades and to admire how small her waist was above her flaring hips. The straps on her thong were so thin that I didn’t even acknowledge them as I worked the lotion down onto her incredible ass after I’d paused to cover it with little kisses. I covered everything but her little rosebud hole with lotion and let the back of my hand rub against her vulva as I massaged the inside of her thighs as she moaned and flexed her hips forward and back, complaining slightly when I moved on down her legs. Her feet were a treat to me. She didn’t seem to be too ticklish, but her toes twitched as I kissed each one and then massaged the lotion between them.
“Oh, that was so wonderful. Sweetheart, I might not be able to do anything else now that I’m so relaxed. What wonderful loving fingers,” Elaine moaned, her head still cradled in her arms.
“It’s not over yet,” I whispered.
“Not? What else can you possibly do?”
“Turn over.”
“Oh no. You’re going to… I seriously won’t be able to do anything for you. I’ll be asleep.”
“If you are, it will be a blissful sleep, love.” She rolled over and I began the same slow and deliberate movements on the front of Elaine’s beautiful body. She might have thought that I was going to go straight for her tits, but those were actually pretty far down the list. I asked if I could use the lotion on her face and she pointed me to a different bottle. I wiped my hands on a tissue and after massaging her scalp for a while, I put some of her facial cream on my fingers and carefully worked it into her skin. Even with her face, I didn’t rush, but smoothed her brow, massaged her ears, carefully avoiding her piercings, even caressed her eyelids. I tenderly kissed her lips that she parted softly, but I didn’t attempt to probe with my tongue. I just continued to pet her skin and work the cream into it.
After I’d worked my way down to her throat, I returned to using the body lotion. I could feel her gulp as I stroked her throat and thought what an unbelievable act of trust it was to lie still and let a man put his hands around her throat. I noticed, though, that at the same time as I started this, her nipples became erect and her breathing increased. I worked outward from her neck, massaging the indents around her collar bone and then out from the shoulder and down each arm. I hadn’t paid as much attention to her hands when she was lying on her stomach because they just didn’t bend easily into a position to work on them, but on her back, her hand came easily up to my lips and I kissed each fingertip and her palm. I looked at the lines on the palm of her hand and wished I knew what a palmist could see there. Was that a long lifeline? As I traced this contour and saw the deep intake of air, I wondered if this tiny line was connected to her sex drive or if that was a sudden relaxation that really would put her to sleep.
Not all my attention was focused on her hands, of course. The whole time I hovered over her, I could see the different responses in her breathing, the hardening and crinkling of her nipples, the fluttering of her stomach muscles. I began tracing my way once again from the base of her throat, down the breastbone and following the center of her abs down to her navel. I drew the line all the way to the top of her thong, just an inch or so above her pussy. She sucked in her tummy and thrust her pubic bone up as if she were making room for my fingers beneath the waistband, but I reversed their movement and spread outward across her pelvis and then back up along her ribcage. I bent to take her nipple between my lips and a long high-pitched whine came from her mouth. I switched breasts, immediately covering the first with my hand and then pulled away to massage the other.
I’d never stopped to think about how a girl feels when a guy handles her breasts. Certainly, several girls had expressed their approval, but I always figured touching their breasts was something they kind of did for the guy because that’s what turns guys on. I knew for a fact that when I touched Hannah’s breasts on those two brief occasions, that’s why she let me. She called it a gift to me but it didn’t do anything for her. Obviously, nipples were sensitive. What about the rest of the breast? I decided not to just squeeze the pliable flesh between my fingers, but to explore it fully—to trace its contours and discover its sensitivities. I could see Elaine’s responses change and could even smell her arousal increase as I lightly caressed, moving toward her nipple without ever touching it. Following the line of her areola where it puffed out from her breast brought a moan and I looked to see her eyes scrunched shut. I kissed the tip of each nipple lightly and swore I’d return to this discovery.
I spent at least as long on her stomach and ribs. Elaine’s legs had parted to give me easier access and her little thong was so wet that I could see her labia through it. The smell was intoxicating. Relaxed, yes, but Elaine was aroused to the edge of her capacity. I kept brushing against her pussy as I worked up and down her thighs, but never paused to dwell on it. I rubbed the lotion into the top of her feet and then took long strokes from her ankles to her shoulders and back down. Elaine sighed. It looked like every muscle in her body had gone lax.
That’s when I touched her pussy.
Her eyes flew open with such a sharp intake of breath that I thought I’d hurt her. Then a moan of such intensity began that I felt compelled to take her lips in mine and touch her tongue. My own bare chest was pressed against her breasts as I manipulated her pussy through the thong and found her clitoris. It felt like her orgasm started someplace deep inside around her navel and exploded from both her pussy and her mouth at the same time. It kept going. My limited experience told me that when girls had had enough, they clamped their legs shut so you couldn’t rub them anymore. Elaine’s legs stayed open wide and her moans mounted to a scream into my mouth. Her whole body shuddered and then went limp with little tremors continuing from her pussy outward. I looked at her and realized she was asleep. I lay beside her and held her naked body against mine. And since her legs had collapsed while still open, I went to sleep still holding her pussy.
Sometime during the night, Elaine rolled on top of me. She’s small. It hardly affected my breathing. Except to speed it up considerably when she started rubbing herself against my still-hard cock. I opened my eyes to look into hers. She was just lowering herself to kiss me, an act I welcomed with my whole mouth. My hips rose to meet hers and this time when she reached her peak, I was there with her. We fell back asleep with her still on top of me and my cock still hard against her pussy.
That was the position Hannah found us in. I awoke to the smell of bacon frying and Hannah was stretched out on the bed next to us watching us sleep. A little smile played on her lips. She had a hand on each of our heads petting us. Elaine turned her head to look at her.
“I don’t think I could do that yet,” Hannah whispered. “But the smell is so enticing.”
“Bacon?” I asked.
“Not that smell.”
“Oh, girlfriend,” Elaine sighed. “One day you will know what you are missing. Kiss?” Hannah leaned over and kissed Elaine gently and lovingly on the lips. Then she moved to my offered lips. I know Elaine felt my cock twitch against her.
“I have to go back to the bacon,” Hannah said. “Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes.” She rolled out of bed and headed for the stairs. “Don’t get too involved again. Really ten minutes.” She giggled and disappeared down the stairs.
Elaine shifted her hips and I rose to meet them. We kissed again while we moved against each other, but it was clear that this was an aftermath kiss, not a forerunner.
“How long did you massage me last night?” she asked. “It was so wonderful.”
“I don’t know. A couple of hours. Maybe three.”
“No boy ever spends that much time just touching a girl,” Elaine whimpered. She had tears leaking out of her eyes, but the smile on her face was pure devotion. “When you… when you touched my forehead, and stroked my worry lines away, it was like you were whispering to me over and over that I didn’t ever have to worry. That you’d always be there for me. I’ve never felt so loved, Brian. Thank you. Thank you.” Had I said that out loud?
“I love you, Elaine.” After a soft kiss she rolled out of bed and offered me a hand to stand up. My underwear was pretty well soaked from inside and out. Elaine reached down and peeled hers away from her crotch and down her legs, exposing the tiny heart-shaped bush of red hair on her mound. “Come on, off with your shorts, boyfriend. Don’t worry, I have another pair for you.” I pulled my briefs down and my cock continued to point north. Elaine looked at me and licked her lips. “We’re not done yet,” she said and handed me a clean pair of the sexy black underpants. She wiggled herself into another thong and looked at me. “T-shirts? I don’t think we should parade around in front of Hannah quite like this.”
The house was a beehive of activity for the rest of the day. Saturday was the first day of the fair. Hannah and Sam both wanted extensive practice rides during the day. I spotted for them as they ran barrels and poles. Then we set up the horsemanship course. Both Hannah and Samantha were required as part of their 4-H classification to participate in the Western Horsemanship event. Western Horsemanship is pretty much what we did at the dude ranch in the arena. The rider is judged, not the horse. You have to ride individually and as a group around the ring obeying the judge’s orders to change gait, change leads, and reverse direction. Unless you are in 7th grade or under, you are also required to dismount and mount your horse in the ring. Both Sam and Hannah were glad their horses weren’t any bigger than they are. Sam could barely get her leg up in the stirrup on Rika when she was wearing her tight show jeans.
Sam was also competing in Western Pleasure and Western Riding. These were typical events for Rika when Betts was showing her, but Betts had focused on the show horse qualities at Arabian events. Rika had a lot of ribbons hanging in the tack room. The Western events were not breed specific and were focused on the horse and rider working together to complete a course. Western Pleasure is very similar to Western Riding, but both the horse and rider are judged together. Western Riding, though, is more complex. Instead of following instructions from the judge, there is a specific course that is laid out and the rider has to complete it in the direction and order that is required. To make things more complicated, there are two patterns in the rule book and riders are not told which one will be used during competition until they arrive at the arena. You have to know both patterns. They include starting at a walk, jogging (trotting) including going over a low log, and the rest of the course is done at a lope. It’s not a race, though. Time isn’t important. What’s important is that the gait remains the same and you have to change leads eight times. The pattern ends with the horse and rider stopping in the center of the ring and backing at least two steps. Samantha had her work cut out for her but Rika was loving it.
I’d tried showing Silk in Western Pleasure a few years ago, but she really had trouble maintaining a collected lope. That girl wanted to race and not do the namby-pamby lead changes on the course. On the other hand, the fact that she never missed a lead change in barrels or poles was not lost on the judges.
While I was working with the girls, Sarah took Elaine to get her car. Elaine and I would have the house to ourselves again tonight. Damn, I loved my babysitter.
The five of us went to the fair Saturday night and ate at the food booths instead of cooking dinner. We didn’t do any rides on the Midway but did stroll through all the 4-H exhibits. Of course, the foods exhibits would all arrive tomorrow morning, but there were some great photography exhibits and the usual forestry exhibits of pressed leaves. Ribbons had already been awarded to the woodworking projects. I had to laugh when I thought back to my only 4-H woodworking project. Cutting the pig-shaped template out of the maple board had been time-consuming and sanding it smooth was a real pain. Let me tell you: if I never saw a coping saw again, I’d be happy. The real capper, though, was drilling the hole in the pig’s tail. I didn’t get the center correct and there was barely enough wood at the edge of the hole to complete the tail. I got a green participation ribbon and decided woodworking was really not my thing.
It was only nine when we all decided we’d had enough of the fair and Sarah drove Elaine and me back home. Of course, Sarah, Hannah, and Samantha all had to get out of the car and kiss both of us at the door before they laughed and scampered back to the car.
“Don’t forget to get up in the morning,” Hannah whispered to me before she left. “I won’t be here to wake you.”
And then Elaine and I were alone again.
“About that bath you offered last night,” Elaine said. “Maybe we could get a shower in before bed tonight. And by the way, if you are willing, I’d like the same permissions tonight as last night.” Who was I to argue about that? I was shocked, though, when Elaine stripped off her panties and then turned to pull my briefs down.
“Um… Elaine? I don’t think we can do that.”
“We just can’t touch genitals,” she said. “It doesn’t mean we can’t see them.”
“But in the shower…”
“I’ll make sure there is always something between us,” she whispered. She reached up to kiss me and I discovered a towel held between us at our waists. “See? It will be hard, but it will be easy.”
I washed her back and hair, careful not to pull her back against my erection. It enforced a certain distance between us. It was even more difficult when she had me soap up her front and especially her breasts. This was really difficult, but whenever I got too close, there was always a washcloth between us. I turned and Elaine washed my back. She hugged herself against my back and began soaping up her front. I guess that’s the advantage of female genitalia. She could rub her boobs all over my back and not have a hard-on poking me in the ass. When I felt her hand on my cock, though, I about jumped out of my skin.
“Elaine!”
“Relax. It just requires a layer between us and it’s my turn to give my boyfriend pleasure tonight like you gave me last night.” I looked down and she was holding a pair of panties in her hand, all soaped up and wrapped around my cock.
“What is that?”
“The Kokomo girlfriends gave me a tip on some panties that feel almost like skin when you get them soaped up. I think they expected me to wear them in a more traditional place,” she laughed.
“Oh God, Elaine.”
“This is called a handjob, Brian. I know you’ve had girls rub your cock through your underwear. I’ve done it. But this is my hand, wrapped in a pair of nylon panties, stroking you up and down and hoping you will come all over the shower walls. Will you do that, lover? Will you let me hold your cock in my hand while I stroke it and you come for me? I want to feel you come in my hand, lover. I want to feel every pulse and think about what it will be like when it’s sheathed in my hot, wet pussy and pumping up inside me. Relax and let it go, Brian. The way you made me let go last night.” Her panty-wrapped hand kept sliding up and down my cock. Her perfect tits were pressed against my side. Her fingers were sliding down my ass-crack and touching my… Oh, holy God in heaven! I was coming!
I’d come down—a little. I was still hard and Elaine still had her nylon-clad hand around my cock, but my breathing was almost back to sub-hyperventilating rhythms. She was using the hand behind me to direct streams of water into my crack to wash out the soap.
“Elaine, was that legal? I mean, did we break rules with you putting your finger on my asshole?”
“No one is ever going to call the anus a part of our genitals,” she said standing on tiptoe to kiss me.
“No?”
“No. I looked it up in a medical dictionary. You know what that means?”
“What?” She draped the panties over my still-hard cock.
“That means you can hold me while I grind against your panty-draped cock and touch me there. You can’t ‘penetrate’ and you can’t go further forward than the little rosebud, but you can touch me there while we make love in the shower.” I did. I held her to me while we trapped the pair of panties between us and she rubbed her breasts on my chest. I let my soapy hand slide down her crack and touch her anus. She ground against me and before the water turned cold, she came, throwing her head back and crying out her pleasure. It was too much and I plastered the inside of those nylon panties with my come.
We were in bed at last. We’d each found a clean pair of underwear—I loved that she brought me three pair of the new briefs. The fresh thong she wore was already soaked with her juices, but we lay in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing.
“I won’t know anyone at school next week,” she sighed. “I just wanted to make a memory of what it was really like when you share something so intimate with someone you love. This weekend is going to help me survive, Brian. Thank you so much.”
“Elaine, we’ve done so much and I want to make you happy more than anything in the world. Can I… use my mouth on you? Through your panties?” I just wanted to do anything I could to make love to this precious woman. She was leaving next week and it was just really hitting me.
“No, lover. You can’t.” I lifted up on my elbow to look at her. I must have looked like a mournful little puppy. “Remember what I said… God! I don’t even remember how long ago it was. Oral sex is sex. It’s not a substitute for sex. It’s really sex. It’s within the rules, sure. But, Brian, lover, when we have sex I don’t want anything between us. I want you to eat me. Oh God! I want you. But even if we do that before you can follow up with putting your cock inside my throbbing pussy, I don’t want anything between your sweet tongue and my clit. Or between my mouth and your cock. Nothing. Ever.”
We held each other close all through the night and woke several times to remind each other how much we were loved.
I was up at four-thirty and Elaine and I ate the first batch of popovers at five-fifteen. I mean we ate all six of them. It was my first test batch of the morning. They weren’t bad. But I’d learned something at the restaurant over the summer. In spite of the fact that we downed six popovers between us in less than fifteen minutes, I knew they could be better.
“What was wrong with these?” Elaine asked. “I’ve never managed popovers this good.”
“Well, as smart as you are, what’s your motto always been about cooking?”
“It isn’t about the food, it’s about the presentation.”
“Drama queen!” I laughed. She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. I put a smear of butter on her tongue. “Problem is that when the judges come to my popovers this noon, there is no presentation. Last year, if they’d judged my bread when I served it to Miss Polly, I’d have won. But all they had was the bread—not the presentation. And that’s what they’ll have this noon. Now when, say, Claudia Leoni bakes a loaf of bread for competition, how many does she bake?”
“One or two. You should still be thankful that Claudia already left for Paris.”
“I might still marry her one day. Especially if she comes back as the pastry chef she intends to. But that’s not the point. When I baked popovers for the restaurant this summer, I made enough batter to bake a gross of popovers. What I discovered was that the margin of error is much greater. If your pinch of salt is a quarter too large in half a dozen popovers, they are too salty. If you have a quarter of a pinch too much in 144 popovers, no one can tell.”
“Is this chemistry stuff, Brian?”
“Yes. It’s all about minimizing the errors and maximizing the results. What’s going to happen next is that I’m going to make enough popover batter to make twelve dozen popovers. And I’m going to cook as many as I can before we leave for the fair. And since we’ve already eaten half a dozen, there’s not much chance that we’ll accidentally eat the best ones. We will pick the best and most perfect out of however many I can get baked in the next three hours and take those to exhibit at the fair.”
“Okay, bright boy. What are you going to do with all the others?”
“We’re going to take them to the fair, too. And give them to anyone who wants one!”
My idea worked. I exhibited half a dozen popovers that were so identical that the judges popped a gasket. They ate three of them so there were only three left to exhibit along with my purple ribbon. I slipped three more identical ones into the display. And nearly a hundred people at the fair Sunday morning got a free treat.
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