This is the nineteenth chapter of “The Jennings Family.” As we have stated in earlier chapters, the story contains bisexuality and sexual acts involving adults and under-age minors, both related and non-related, in accordance with the shared story preferences of the authors. If any of this is objectionable to you, you might like to leave and go to another story.
As was the case regarding the earlier stories that this team has produced and the previous chapters of this story, the reader should realize that the usual disclaimer applies about how this is purely fictional and none of the actions, persons, and places in the story really exist. Nothing in this story should be read as anything but fictional.
Feedback, which is desired and appreciated, can be sent to “Brad Gillespie” at the address RBZ followed by the digits 3141 at gmail.com. Please put the story title in the subject line. But don't be surprised if the name on the responses is different. That e-mail account is under a different pseudonym than the one I used to write this story.
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The next two weeks passed swiftly. Midterm papers and tests occupied much of Tim's time. What remained was divided among Carmen's calls/texts, friends, Jeff's wishes, and Fran's growing demands.
Her roommate had not yet returned. Fran, almost insatiable sexually, was wearing him out. It all sounded so nice, “No strings, and all that.” Bull shit! Tim was learning the hard way that with a woman, once begun, the no-strings policy become full-string obligations. It's so much easier to say no with a guy.
He wanted to talk with Dan, a guy with experience on both sides of the street, but he'd been too embarrassed to tell him the situation. On the most recent call, he's tried to explain about “a friend of his” who was having girl problems, etc. Tim didn't know how to explain. “Maybe you can, Dan. You were married once. To a woman.”
Dan chuckled, and said, “Come on, Tim. Just lay it out for me. You're fucking some other honey over there, aren't you?”
He gulped. Busted! After pausing for just a few seconds, Tim came clean. “Damn it, Dan, Carmen's been gone for two weeks and I met this girl, Fran…”
“Fran, is it?” Again the chuckle. “A bio girl this time?”
“Yes. I need help. And don't laugh.”
“Tim, I ain't laughin' at you. Some cute little gal you met at one of the bars, saw you coming, and got her hooks in deep!”
“Huh?” Tim asked, confused.
“OK, here's the God's honest truth about women,” Dan said and stopped. “No man knows what women want.”
After absorbing the essence of Dan's limited advice, Tim asked, “What the hell's that supposed to mean anyway?”
Tim could almost hear a grin when Dan repeated, “You see, no man can understand the mind of a woman. Their pretty bodies are lures to bring you in close, like bait. Once they've got you, you are fuckin' doomed.”
“You're not being helpful, Dan. I need suggestions, not a philosophy lesson.”
“OK, here's the best I can do for you. Your first misstep was spending the night with her and then letting her make you breakfast.”
“Yeah, so what? I was hungry.”
Dan's laughter stung. He grew silent, gathering thoughts, then went on. “OK, the A-B-Cs of it. A woman's prime goal is to find and keep a mate.”
“She misled you by telling you that her boyfriend was away and she was lonely. You played along. She was trading her body for your attention. What else did she tell you?”
“Uhm…” Tim paused and shuddered at what he was about to say. “She said it was a no-strings deal. I could walk away any time.”
Dan was silent for a moment, then continued, “In simplest terms, sex is like politics. Once you understand the game, there are trade-offs, bargains. Some overt, others understood.”
“I like that comparison.”
“You want to get out of this fix?” asked Dan.
“Next time she calls, invites you over for food, or sex, tell her you're busy. Midterms, heavy duty paper, whatever. Have you used that excuse?”
“But you wound up eating with her and/or having sex, right?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“Tim, Tim, Tim… Next time you tell her, ‘no.’ If she cries, then beg. You say, ‘Look, honey. I'd love to, but I've got this big whatever coming up.’ Two sure ways to hook a guy are pussy or tears, or both. Get used to them.”
“Anything else before we hang up?”
“No, I don't think so.”
“Then go unravel her traps. Be a man!” was the last he said.
Tim was saved from having to confront Fran when his phone rang. It was Carmen's dad's number. Why was he calling and not she? Oh, shit! “Is everything OK? Is Carmen all right?” he asked, a quaver to his voice.
“Yes, Tim. She is. I'm calling because we just had a family conference. I'm sorry to tell you that she can't come back to the U. We're having a crisis of medical expenses and, well, looks like college is going to have to wait for a year.”
“I… I… I'm sorry to hear about the medical. Is her mom OK?”
“Yes, she was out of the hospital, but had to see a specialist. Our medical coverage takes care of most of it, but the bills are piling up. But let me get to the point. We have to drive over and empty her stuff from your room. She brought some clothes, her computer, blankets, plus some other personal stuff. Would you mind if we drive down on Saturday to take care of things?”
Tim was dumbfounded. Carmen leaving the university? It was so sudden. The voice on his phone said, “Hello? Tim, are you there?”
“Uhm… Yes. I'm here.”
“Saturday? OK then? We'll come early, so we don't mess up your day too much.”
“Thanks. I'll be here to make sure you get all her stuff.”
They said their good-byes, and he hung up. Carmen gone out of his life? He'd suspected this might happen but… it was just a possibility. He wondered, was there more to this? She could be mercurial at times, but this… He shook his head to rid his mind of the hundreds of reasons and possibilities. “No! Enough! Saturday he could talk to her.” With that, he stood up, changed into jogging clothes, and ran out the door. “Four or five miles ought to clear my head,” he thought.
Saturday came quickly. The ringing of his phone woke him. He was torn from a dream of passion where he and Carmen were naked on a beach towel on a wide stretch of sand. They were making out; he had just moved to top her, when… Ring!
His eyes opened instantly, and he reached for the phone to silence it before it woke Carmen. That image was shattered when Carmen spoke. “Good morning, Tim,” she said. “We're almost there. Maybe another 30 minutes.”
“Carmen, honey. Your dad said early, but I didn't think he meant…” He glanced at the clock, which read 6:20 AM. “…this early.”
She giggled that cute little thing she did for him so often. “Sorry. My fault. I guess I forgot to call.”
“Never mind that, I'm already up. See you guys soon.” He kissed her on the phone and said, “Good-bye.”
Coffee came to mind, as he leapt from the bed and dashed to the coffee maker on their table. Pushing the button turned on the red light. Seconds later, the gurgling of heated water was pouring into the coffee. While it drained through the grounds, he got a mug, added some creamer, and stood watching. A minute later, the last few drips emptied into the carafe. Lifting it out, he poured his first cup of the day.
Too early to do anything and not enough time to try, he flipped on the TV, turned to the morning news, and sat watching while sipping his drink. He rose and walked to the window to pull back the curtain. The view wasn't much; the parking lot, with cars randomly parked here and there. Many had taken off for the weekend, so it was only half-filled.
As he stood watching, to his disbelieving eyes, a pickup pulled in, stopped, reversed course, and backed toward the entrance. When it stopped, he saw Carmen. She jumped out and ran toward the entrance. He ran to open the door. Less than a minute passed before he heard her feet slapping against the hallway carpet. When she rounded the corner, he was waiting for her, arms wide.
“Oh, baby!” he sighed. “I'm so happy to see you again.”
“Me too, honey,” she barely got out, before his mouth covered hers in a long, warm kiss. They were still involved as her dad and her brother walked in. They stopped to wait while the lovers finished. When they did separate, the men shook hands all around. Her dad wasted no time in organizing the move. The four of them worked together, filled boxes and a suitcase, and had everything out of the room in less than an hour.
“Look,” said Carmen. “We'd like to take you out to breakfast. We didn't eat before we came, so we're all starved.”
Tim brightened at the prospect of spending what little time they had together. “Where to?” he asked.
“Our favorite,” she replied, her arm around his waist, gazing into his eyes.
“The Pancake House?”
“Uh huh!” she nodded. They piled into the pickup, which had a comfortable back seat, where Carmen and Tim sat.
Carmen directed her dad to the restaurant, which was only a 15-minute drive on Saturday morning at this early hour.
Over coffee, orange juice, bacon, and pancakes for the others, while Tim chose a waffle, they filled him in on all that had happened over the last couple of weeks. Each took turns embellishing the story of Carmen's mom's fall. The arrival of the EMTs. The rush to the hospital. The wait while doctors hovered over her, ran tests, conferred amongst themselves. Finally! One of them came over to speak to them. “Your wife will be fine. She's got a concussion, which is not serious. Amazing, in fact, considering the nasty tumble she took. She's sleeping peacefully; we gave her a sedative to keep her out. She does need her rest.” He recommended they go home, get some rest themselves, and return tomorrow.
Then came the story of the unanticipated medical bills. They assumed, as most do, that their insurance policy would take care of most of it. Due to the thousands of dollars of tests, some that were not covered, they found themselves facing a financial crisis.
Carmen took his hand in hers, looked him in the eyes, and said, “I'm doing my share by dropping out of school.”
He was about to object, saying that surely there was a way, but she cut him off, placing one finger over his lips.
“No,” she began. “We,” she indicated her family, “have made the hard decisions. This is it.” She stopped and smiled at him. “Honey, we can still call, email, text. This is the 21st century. We don't have to be face-to-face to communicate.”
“Well, screw the 21st f'n century! I want to feel your body against mine from time to time.” He watched Carmen blush but smile. Looking at the expressions on her dad and brother, he laughed. “'Scuse my French and all, but I do.”
Her eyes lit up. “Ooo… you do? Is that a proposal?” she giggled.
Blushing, he put up both hands to ward off her suggestion. “What? Proposal? I… No…” Suddenly, he understood she was joking.
“Relax, dear,” she said, soothing his hair. “You told me before…” A glint in her eye, “None of that ‘till after graduation. I'll wait for you.’”
Abruptly, her dad said, “As much fun as this has been, Tim, we do have to get back. Our neighbor is watching over my wife…”
“I understand. Thanks for breakfast and letting me spend time with Carmen.”
They dropped him off at his dorm. He stood watching Carmen's face in the rear window until their pickup turned the corner and was gone. Later that day, when Fran called, he let it go to message. He was lonely for Carmen, not for a warm pussy. He answered Jeff's offer of dinner, wine, and a good fuck, by explaining that he'd spent the morning with Carmen, and her family. He just wasn't in the mood.
“Damn it all!” exclaimed Jeff. “If you were gay, you wouldn't have these mushy feelings over a woman, for gawd sake!” Then he laughed to let Tim know it was a joke. Good thing. He was not in the mood for a joke.
The next day, when Fran had called two more times, he answered, “Hi, Fran.”
“Well! So you are alive. I've called…” she began.
“Yes, yes. I know. But you gotta remember, I have a study schedule to meet. I can't just drop everything for you.”
Was she pissed? Maybe he'd gone too far.
“Timmy, honey. It's OK. I understand. I didn't mean to push. Honest.”
Holy shit! Dan was right. He decided to push it a little. “Look, Fran, baby. You know I want to be with you,…” He let that hang for a second before adding. “I'll come over tomorrow afternoon?”
“The sooner the better,” she breathed huskily. “I'll be waiting.”
After they hung up, Tim sat back in his chair and cheered silently. He threw his hands into the air. “Yes!” he said to himself. “Thank you, Dan. You were right. It works.” Did it really work, or was Tim just kidding himself? Already he had forgotten Dan's warning that no man can understand the mind of a woman.
Tim took his time arriving at Fran's dorm room to find her in a robe. Closing the door, he locked it. “You look very sexy dressed like that,” he said.
“I have a surprise for you, lover,” she said.
“Oh,” he answered, wondering what she was cooking up.
“A massage. An erotic massage.”
“You didn't tell me you're a masseuse,” he said.
“There is much I haven't told you,” she said. “Take off your clothes.” She let the robe slide sensuously from her shoulders. Standing before him in all her naked lasciviousness, he felt his cock rising.
“Lay face down on the bed,” she instructed him.
“This was going to be so easy,” he thought, as he stripped and lay down.
“Comfy?” she asked, as she poured warm oil over his back and buttocks.
“Very,” he replied, smiling to himself.
She began by rubbing his feet, then calves, and moving up to his thighs. Her hands rubbed strongly, but in a sensuous way. He was thoroughly relaxed, enjoying the feel of her hands. They were much stronger than he'd thought they could be. They firmly molded his muscles upward, until they were at his cheeks. If it were anybody but Fran, he'd have objected when he felt her fingers caressing his balls. Instead he moaned.
“That's really good, baby.” Her hands cupped and massaged them, as his cock grew harder. Tim was anticipating a glorious fuck after this, horny as he was.
More oil was poured down between his ass cheeks. No problem with him. He could only imagine what she had planned after this!
He felt her strong hands follow the oil, until they came to rest on the puckered entrance to his anus. His first response was to object, but she cautioned him, breathing the words into his ear. “It's OK, baby. I know you'll like this.”
Tim lay with his head on the pillow, enjoying her penetration of his hole. Her one finger was joined by a second that drove into his anus. He could do naught but groan in ecstasy.
“You doin' OK, baby?” she crooned.
“Mmm… Very OK,” he replied.
Having sunk into the lethargic state he was in, he failed to notice that the two fingers were replaced by a hard, thick cock. It was already sinking into his ass when he objected. Already stretched by other cocks, he was in no position to discuss terms.
“You like that big dick filling you, baby?” Fran asked him. It was purely rhetorical, judging by the easy way he accepted it.
He could not help but moan. “Oh, gawd, yes!” he cried out, as the mystery cock impaled him fully.
It couldn't be Fran with a strap-on, for she was before him. He was almost helpless with his ass raised to accept the prick that was fucking him. “Don't stop,” he moaned. “Fill me.”
Fran was overjoyed to see that her subterfuge had worked. She'd learned that Tim liked to be fucked. Her boyfriend, David, would like that.
Knowing that Tim was a bottom, David pressed into him, thrusting over and over, his ass moving back to meet the cock pummeling him.
Tim's back arched with pleasure as that cock was repeatedly slammed into him, until he cried out that he was cumming and spewing a load of his semen onto the bed.
David followed swiftly, filling Tim's gut. The last who cried out was Fran. Watching the two men mate, she was so aroused that she turned to massage her clit to a wild climax.
When it was over and Fran had introduced them to each other, Tim and David knew they'd each met Mr. Right. The various combinations of two and three were limited, but erotic in fantasizing about implementing them. This combination could be any arrangement, so long as none were left out.
The hour being late, few were likely to be using the showers. So all three went into a single shower stall on the men's side. Beneath the warm cascade of water, each took turns sucking cocks, or licking pussy. To Tim's surprise, he learned the depths of Fran's flexibility, when both David and he fucked her simultaneously, one in her front door the other in her back. Sandwiched between the two men, she could do little but writhe in desperate delight in being impaled and expertly brought to a second climax. This meant a second dip beneath the shower to wash away sweat, cum, and sticky cocks.
Returning to Fran and David's room, they lay awake, Fran and David in one bed; Tim in the other. The constant state of giggling from one bed had Tim worked up. Hearing them get it on one more time made him hornier still. His own release was drowned out by their cries of satisfaction. That seemed to have worn them to a state of blissful exhaustion. They each drifted off to warm pleasant dreams.