Jessie's StoryChapter 2 free porn video

We were sitting for dinner at our favorite place out west. “We need to talk,” I said, solemnly. She got that look in her eyes. Sorrow, sneaking up behind fear. “Not that kind, the other kind.”

She tried to crack a smile. “Oh. OK. You talked to Momma again?”

“Yes, you could say that. I’m going to say a few things, then get your reaction, then we can continue, OK?” She nodded. “I love you. I know that for a fact.” She smiled faintly. “I want to be with you for a very long time. You make me happy.” The smile broadened. “I hope you feel the same about me. Yes, I want you to love me, and yes, I want you to think of me as a long-term prospect. Jessie, I’m thinking forever. I asked your mother for her permission, her blessing, to ask you to marry me. She brought up some valid points.”

“I know. Before you go any further, I love you, too, Charlie. No doubt. I’m very possibly not old enough to know if that is enough. If what I’m feeling is enough. I’ve never been in love before.” I raised my hand. She giggled. “Yes, Charles?”

“I never have been either. I know that now. Our first kiss was something I’ve never felt before. I’m not bragging, but that was not my first kiss.”

She giggled and said, “Nor was it mine, sir.”

“I’ve never thought I was going to have an accident while kissing before.”

“So, it wasn’t just me?” she asked, smiling.

“No. Not even close. Look, baby doll, I’m not asking you to marry me tomorrow. I’m just asking you to marry me. You get to say yes, or no, as you desire, but a promise to marry me does not ruin your life. If you decide later that it’s not me you want to spend your life with, you get to decide that, too. Just know that I don’t have that question in my mind. I want you and only you. I am going to ask you to marry me on Christmas day. Your mother is afraid there are problems, physical, physiological, and or psychological problems in our path. You think about this and if you need my help, ask. If you need your mother’s advice, please ask her. She knows what I want and has given me her blessing. I need yours.

“Here is the question your mother has, and it’s valid, yes, but not to me. Can you, after your abduction and the brutality that followed, love a man in every normal sense of a relationship? Jessica, I love you. I want you. Just the way you are. If you are physically incapable of having a physical relationship, I still want you. If you are emotionally incapable of making love to me, I still want you. Do you understand that?”

“Mighty noble of you, but I don’t want to spend my life with a man and not be able to make love to him, Charlie. Little girls have dreams and fantasies, too. Before I was raped, I thought about growing up and having my husband make love to me and make me feel like women do in the romance novels. I’ll talk to Momma, but I’ve been cleared by two doctors, an OBGYN type and a psychiatrist, and supposedly, I’m fine. I won’t know about the mental thing until we try to make love, but I’m willing to try, when you are. By the by, I’m safe. No little unwanted Jessicas to worry about. Let’s talk to Momma, together, on Christmas. You can ask the question, if you still want to. I will probably say yes, provided we have a long engagement, and unless I meet some handsome stud in the hallway at school...” She started giggling. “And we all know that ain’t fuckin’ happ’nin’, I’ll probably marry you at the end of our long engagement. I threw a lot of probables in there, I know. Charlie, I’m not a seventeen-year-old little girl. I’m a seventeen-year-old young woman who doesn’t believe in fairy tales and white knights riding in at the last minute to save the damsel in distress. There is no white knight. Last minute doesn’t happen except in the movies. I have been violated. Violently, I might add, and damaged in the worst possible way a woman can be. I have no delusions of paradise. I’ve been in hell, and let me tell you, Charlie, it’s not as pretty as everyone says it is. Eeeyew, I really don’t like to think about it, but that’s my story and I can’t change it. I would however, like to think about us making a go of it ... Together.”

“That’s enough for me.” We stood by the table, and looking into each other’s eyes, wrapped ourselves up in a firm, loving hug. I pulled back a bit, leaned down, and kissed her, causing her to melt into me. I felt we’d be fine. I took her home and turned her over to her mother, who looked like she’d had a pretty rough day. I got a hug, told Justine that her daughter and I had talked at length, and let them finish the conversation however they wanted.

“Thank you, Charlie. Your place for Christmas, then?” I nodded to her mother then kissed my girlfriend and left.

I had two weeks to get my place ready for Christmas. I spent hours hanging lights and putting up doo-dads I pulled out of storage, making an attempt at the ambiance of festivity. A week before the actual date, I picked up a tree. It was Saturday, and Jessie was working. I got it home, squared and trimmed the trunk, put it in the water bath tree holder thing that hadn’t been used in ten years, then put the lighted angel topper that my Mom always needed help with up on the tree.

My plan was to have Jessie and Justine out on Sunday to help me decorate the tree. When Jessie called me that night, I told her to ask her mother if they could help me with it, spend the day and have lunch and dinner as well. Justine tried to get out of it, but failed, and Jessie drove them out Sunday, right after church.

I couldn’t have come up with a better plan. It seems they hadn’t exactly been celebrating Christmas much either, and I could tell it was having a positive effect on all three of us. It didn’t hurt that they spent the day dressed up and looking quite fetching. As small and frail as Justine was, she was a pretty woman, and Jessie was just gorgeous, regardless of what she wore, but in a gray suit, comprised of a light wool miniskirt and waist length jacket over a ruffled placket blouse, she really looked nice. The light gray stockings and high heeled pumps, color matched to the fabric of the suit, turned my little girlfriend into a remarkable and stylishly dressed woman. Her pink bobbed hair looked great with gray. She wore a simple gold serpentine chain around her neck. I needed to do something about that.

The tree got decorated, and Charlie got to see plenty of stocking tops, lucky guy that I am. I noticed that when Jessie would stretch and reach up, which would pull the skirt up on one side, uncovering the welt of her hose, she’d look at me and smile. When she bent over slightly, exposing the backs of her thighs and the stocking welts there, she’d straighten, smooth her skirt, look over her shoulder and grin at me. The little vixen knew exactly what she was doing. Exactly.

Dinner went well, the conversation being mostly about the future and whether it would be taken head on by us as a couple. We both tried to convince Justine that it was worth a shot, since we both wanted it, and we wouldn’t know for sure until whatever fears we had were behind us.

“I’m not going to pretend it’s not happening, Charlie. Jessica, you need to find out if you’ll be able...”

“Enough, Momma. I’ll handle it. When he makes that first step, the stairway to heaven is open. He and I will climb it. Alone. Please know that if I need advice, or help, or have questions, I will come to you. You’re my mother. I love you. I always will, but this is something I want to do by myself. Well, not entirely,” she giggled getting a smile from her mother, “but I’ll take it from here. I obviously know where things go. I want to figure out how to get them there between the two of us. OK?” Justine nodded, squeezed her little girl’s hand, and never tried to intervene in our love lives after that.

“On that note, can either of you cook?” Laughter erupted from the female members of the dinner party. “Why the sudden session of laughter? Is it at me or with me?”

“Don’t worry. With you. It’s that’s funny, though Momma is better at it than most chefs, but can’t do much of it anymore, so she just tells me what to do and I turn groceries into fine dining at her behest. What’s the issue?”

“Well, here’s the deal. I will have groceries in this house, in abundance, come Thursday. I’d like you both to spend the night here with me, in the guest rooms, of course, then with your mother’s supervision, your skill, and me doing your lackey labor and grunt work, as instructed, I say we put a Christmas dinner together. Fine dining, as you called it. The earlier you come on Christmas eve, the more we can do the night before.”

“I’m working until ten. Mom is working until six. Go get her and I’ll come here after work. She can boss you around and try to teach you how to cook. By the way, Charlie, what did you do until now? You don’t look deprived or malnourished.”

“I had adult supervision until a couple years ago, honey. I haven’t cooked a holiday dinner since. I’ve generally run away and distracted myself on some beach somewhere over Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays so as not to think about it. Mom and I lived here together for a bit before she passed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Charlie. I guess we haven’t delved too deeply into your past like we have mine.”

“Jessica, darling,” Justine put her hand on Jessie’s arm. “Don’t pry, hon. You have a lifetime to share your pasts with each other.”

“It’s fine, Justine. She’s going to want to know what I do, where I’ve been, what I’ve done, and where I did it, at some point. She might as well know now. After Friday, it will be too late and she will be in the clutches of a MADMAN, MWAHAHAHA!” I raised my hands in monster like fashion, grabbed her shoulders as she squealed, getting her mother to laugh openly and loudly, and kissed her. She held my chest on the sides, and I could feel her melt into the light embrace.

“Jessie, this week, we’ll talk. Suffice to say, for now, that I own businesses and properties that my father left me. He and mother split up a long while ago, but never remarried since they were both still madly in love with each other. They just couldn’t stand each other. A strange, but often true situation. Mom came back here where we were both raised before things happened with her meeting Dad and all, and when I left the service, I came back to be with her. She passed away a little over, what, three years ago now, October, and I’ve been on my own since. I relied on the hospitality of strangers for holiday meals since, not wanting to be here alone, without her.

“Dad died two weeks after she did. He just didn’t have the will to live after he knew she was gone, and his heart, already giving him grief, just stopped trying to keep up with his hurried lifestyle. The wills were read, I was left everything. I didn’t, don’t, have Dad’s experience. Luckily, he had prepared for the worst, and I have three guys whom he trusted implicitly taking care of it all for me. I’m learning, but they are doing just fine. I flew in the service, so I brought the plane home, since Dad used it to fly between holdings, and it was no longer needed at his headquarters. The pilot Dad had on staff was getting ready to retire and start his own little flying service anyway, so everything worked out for everybody. Now, I have a contractor working our farm, except for my garden, and all is well that hasn’t ended yet. Or something like that.”

“Wow. Thank you. I’m sorry you went through all that at once.”

“Me, too, doll, but I’m fine. Better than fine, now, I hope. I’ll tell you Friday morning.” My smile brought a small giggle from her and brightened my day. The ladies went home that evening with promises to be here to provide guidance and help for me come holiday feast preparation time.

The call late that night before we retired was something I was dreading, but it surfaced and once it was out in the open, we could deal with it.

“Charlie, I know you could tell, but Momma’s fading a bit. She told me tonight on the way home her doctor’s appointment on Friday wasn’t all that great. She tried to tell me in her own way that it won’t be long until I’m not going to have her shoulder to cry on.”

“Yes, doll, I noticed, and have been for the last couple of months. I’m sorry. I truly am. I’ll do anything you need. Jessica, if money is an issue...” She interrupted me.

“It’s not, Charlie. She has the best medical insurance money can buy and George still pays for everything. Every cent. She has the best of everything, EXCEPT her own health. There’s just not a lot that can be done at this stage of the game. Thank you for being there. I need to get to bed. I love you.”

“I love you, too, doll.” Click. She ended the call.

Thursday, I picked Justine up, just after six. She had a little duffle with her at the door.

“A change of clothes for each of us. You did say we were spending the night, right? I didn’t just imagine that?”

“No, Justine, I meant it. I’ll love having you both there with me.”

Once at the house, she sat at the bar, drinking flavored water. Alcohol didn’t agree with her meds, and she didn’t like coffee or tea in the evening. I shook things up and used club soda for her second one. She noticed and approved.

“Charlie, does she know yet why you left the service?”

“Not yet, Justine. It’ll come up, I’m sure. You know, one of these days, your daughter is going to see me without my clothes on. I’m sure she’ll ask some questions then.”

“I didn’t know. I guess I knew, I just don’t have any idea...”

“It’s all right, Justine. I have scars. She’ll see them. They aren’t for public consumption. No problem. When you all come out to swim this summer, you’ll see them, too. I lived. It’s over. They are all that’s left, and they don’t bother me anymore. Physical therapy is a wonderful thing and can perform miracles with enough time and pain. Especially if you’re lucky enough to find a heartless therapist incapable of compassion or feeling others’ misery.”

Justine laughed. “And yet performed miracles, admittedly. Don’t be too hard on them, Charlie, like the Nazis, they’re just following orders.” She giggled at that, too, getting me to smile through the memories. I tease, but without them, I’d be nothing. Just a blob of scar tissue with no future. It’s not really that bad, that ugly or anything, but you can tell I’d had a run in with something deadly at one time or another.

My sweetheart pulled up at about ten-thirty, came in to hug and kiss her mother, then came to me for the same, each of mine lasting just a bit longer.

“OK, how do you all do the Christmas thing? We always had a gift or two to open on Christmas Eve, then went nuts on Christmas morning.”

“That’ll work,” Justine said. “Honey, I got him through the stuffing, we have a green bean casserole ready for the oven, and a cranberry dessert you like. The one with the graham cracker crust under it, not the fluffy Jell-O one.”

“Cool. It’s been a while. So, all we need to do now is watch him burn a turkey, make watery mashed potatoes, lumpy gravy, and eat it all for dinner.”

“I’m having second thoughts.” I was teasing, to be sure.

“Oh? What about, honey bunch? Having a last-minute ham, instead?”

“No. About asking you to marry me!”

“Oooops. Never mind. I’ll love it all!”

“Good save, dear.”

“You’ll be fine, Charlie. Mom is an excellent cook, and an adequate slave driver and a wonderful kitchen supervisor. We’ll eat well. I promise. Just don’t put too much milk in the potatoes and make sure you shake the cornstarch really well, in COLD water, before stirring it into the turkey drippings. I’ll help. I love you, after all. Someone has to.” She giggled and granted me one of her cutest smiles.

Standing and walking by me, she kissed me again, went to the guest room where I had taken their bag and came back wearing flannel pajamas. She was cuter than a button. Strawberry Shortcake. That rang a bell. ‘I’m no Strawberry Shortcake’, she said. I’ll bet it was a way for her to try to recover some of the youth that was stolen from her during her abduction. I looked down at two little rabbits on her feet as she approached me on her return. Smiling, I kissed her and held her to me.

“Has anyone ever told you how adorable you are?” She pointed at her mother. “Well, I’m joining the club. Stay here. It’s gift time.” I went to my room, got three boxes and an envelope and came back out. They had done the same, each handing me a small gift. I handed Justine a long little package and the envelope. I handed Jessie just a long little package. “Go ahead, girls. Please.”

Justine opened her box to find a double strand of pearls. She loved them. Hugging me and kissing my cheek. “They are beautiful, Charlie. Thank you, but you shouldn’t have.” She opened the envelope to find a series of ten one-hour appointments with a massage therapist there in town. I had arranged with the lady to go to Justine’s house in the evenings after work to provide her some physical therapy of her own. A tear came to her eye. That was a huge thing for her. I got another hug and a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you, Charlie. This will be so nice. So thoughtful, too. Thank you.”

“OK, Pinkie, your turn.” She opened her long little box, certainly knowing it was a necklace of some type after seeing her mother’s. Inside she found a gold chain necklace with a diamond pendant which left no question as to the validity of the giver’s intention. It was a two carat flawless round brilliant diamond surrounded by smaller ones that shimmered in almost any light.

Justine had tears in her eyes. Jessie was just silent. She looked at it and looked at me then looked at her mother. She did that several times, then came to where I sat, pulled my head to her tummy and just held me to her. Then she stooped and kissed me. “Thank you, Charlie. It’s gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful.” I got another kiss. She sat and showed it to her mother, up close.

I pretty much had her where I wanted her at the time so I made my move. “One more, honey? A little one?”

“Sure, Charlie, but I hope you didn’t go overboard.”

I reached in my pocket, dropped to one knee and took her hand. “Jessica Lorraine Tillotson, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?”

Tears started running. I flipped the box open so she could see the necklace’s matching diamond in her engagement ring. A two-carat flawless round cut with smaller ones on the sides, framed by baguettes.

“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Yes, Charlie. Yes. I accept. I will. I do. I want to. Be your wife. I love you.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and cried and cried for about five minutes. Her mother was patting her back, I was holding the back of her head as she cried on my shoulder, both of us trying to let her know that everything was going to be all right. “Wow, they are so beautiful, Charlie. So pretty.” I placed the engagement ring on her finger and kissed it.

“Thank you for saying yes, honey.”

“You could do so much better than me, Charlie, but I’m glad you didn’t. I’m happy you asked me. We’ll be OK. I’m sure of it. Thank you.” I got another kiss.

We had a late-night snack, Jessie and I sharing a drink and all of us destroying two bags of Jolly Time Blast O Butter, with some extra melted butter poured over it, and topped with some shake on Garlic and Parmesan popcorn flavoring. Yeah, I guess one could say we went overboard, but it was delicious.

As we were all saying goodnight, I got a hug from Justine, and startling me to no end, she whispered in my ear. “Be careful with my baby girl, Charlie. Go slow and be careful. Watch her, listen to her, love her, and let her guide you.” She pushed me back a bit, kissed my cheek, then her daughter’s, and went to the guest room.

As I stood there, stunned. I noticed movement in my peripheral vision bringing me to my senses and looked back over at Jessie’s rump, and two little cottontails, as she headed off to my bedroom. Wow. I was not expecting this. Not at all.

I got the lights and just as she was coming out of the bathroom, licking her teeth, I went in. I brushed, made a short trip to the water closet, washed up and returned to the bedroom. Once there, I saw her sitting in bed, covers up over her lap, looking as cute and innocent as could be.

“Don’t get any crazy ideas, Charlie. We need to kind of take this slowly, but we need to take it, all the same. You sleep in your undies, I hope?” I nodded. “I generally do, too, but without benefit of a top, unless I’m chilly. Tonight, though, will be a bit different. I need you to hold me. Flannel and all. This will be the first time for me, Charlie. You’ve held me, touched me, kissed me, and I’ve even sat and laid in your lap, but this will be the first time I’ve been held by a man, in bed, for the purpose of sharing our love. I need your help in going very slowly and see how I do. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. You are my guide. You just let me know what you want.”

“I want you in your, your, whatever ... Boxers or briefs?”

“Definitely boxers.”

“I want you in your boxers, where you normally lie in bed and I will conform to your norms. In a spooning, cuddling, kind of way,” she said, then giggled.

“Yessss. Thank you, Goddess of spooning and cuddling.” Another giggle.

I laid down and she spooned up in front of me. I pulled her to me, kissed the back of her head, then her ear. With my hand on her hip, I told her, “Thank you for saying yes, Jessica. I love you. Please take your time and make sure I don’t hurt you in any way.”

She turned and kissed me, our tongues meeting and sharing. “Goodnight, Charlie. We’re fine. I think now this is going to be easier than I thought it would before. Hold me and help me sleep. Let’s see what Santa brings us.”

I did just that, and with her hair in my nose, her body against mine, and her hip under my hand, I felt as content and as happy as I’d ever been before she came into my life.

I awoke to the feeling of something in my boxers besides me. It was a little hand. I looked at her. She looked at me and grinned like a wolf looking at a cornered rabbit. Speaking of rabbits, she had cute little feet. Her slippers were obviously on the floor.

I felt her hand on and almost around my erection, as far as she could reach, anyway, and I could feel a washcloth or something similar laying on my stomach.

“Do you mind?”

I shook my head. “It’s yours. I gave it to you with that ring last night. I thought you knew how this all worked. And here I thought you were a grownup little girl.” She had the audacity to slap my weenie. She giggled, then she pulled the waist band of my boxers down over it, pulling up a bit so I’d raise my hips. She stopped what she was doing and closed and locked the bedroom door.

Upon her return, she knelt next to me, her butt by my chest, and sat on her heels. “Charlie, could you rub my back, under my shirt, while I do this, please? I need you touching me.” I reached under her pajama top, fondling her back muscles and her spine, her flanks, and her shoulder blades. Her skin felt of silk and satin on my hand. “Do you like what Santa brought you?” She giggled.

That is how our physical love lives started off. She played for about fifteen minutes, edging and driving me nuts. She finally let me ejaculate, finishing into the washrag, then laid next to me. She traced the scars with her fingers. Touching each and every one that she could reach. It was one of the more intimate experiences I’d ever had. The women that had previously been this close to me wanted nothing to do with them.

“Baby, I need to pee.”

“Go. Come right back. I’m not done yet.”

When I came back, she put me back where I was. “You don’t seem surprised by the scars. I thought they would repulse you.”

“I told Diana I was falling in love with you. She told me to be careful and that you were probably still pretty fragile. If she only knew about me, huh? Two broken souls finding each other in a backwoods grocery checkout. Who’da thunk?” She giggled again. A beautiful sound. “She told me about you coming back from a terrible situation and in pretty bad shape. She said Donnie told her you shouldn’t have come back alive but beat the odds and did it anyway. She doesn’t know, evidently, exactly what happened, or where, but she told me to prepare myself and that if I ever saw you without a shirt or long pants to be ready to look at a manmade, or made out of a man, patchwork quilt on legs. Diana is very fond of you. She thinks very highly of you and said her husband does as well. You are going to be good for me, aren’t you, Charlie?”

“God, I hope so, darling. I really hope so.”

“Come, let’s go make Momma some coffee and some breakfast. Do you have a robe you can throw on?”

I did have one, so I threw it on, tied it shut, and we went out to start Christmas day. It was a perfect beginning.

Justine came out of the guestroom looking like she needed coffee. You know, the walking dead look, so the elixir of life was provided, and within ten minutes she was human again. She asked Jessie how it went.

“Nunya.”

“Nunya?”

“Nunya beeswax, Momma. I’m alive, you didn’t hear any screams, I hope, and Charlie and I are still engaged. All is well. End of conversation.”

“Good. Oh, my. Why is he smiling like that?”

“Toldya! Nunya!” They both cracked up. I turned red and started breaking eggs. “We’ll talk later, Momma, but don’t expect any details. We’re going to be fine, I think.”

We spent the day making or supervising the making of Christmas dinner, depending on your position in the hierarchy. I did most of the scut work, Jessie made sure I followed instructions, and Justine provided said instructions. Since I was pretty much the intended labor force, the red potato mashed potatoes had the skins left on, but I found that they liked them that way as much as I did. I had always made mashed spuds with the skins on. Old habits and all that. It wasn’t really that I was lazy.

It came to a fruitful end. Everything was excellent, I was declared an adequate kitchen helper, Justine got accolades from both of us for being a master chef, and when the teasing was done, we all thanked each other for a wonderful day and a lot of shared fun.

Justine was getting tired, so after we got the leftovers put away, I told Jessie to take her home and make sure she was all right. We all hugged, I kissed my fiancée goodbye and thanked her again for saying, ‘yes’.

That was at about six. At eight, she came back, and rang the doorbell for the last time. I gave her the keys to the garage entry door and the front door, went out to my workbench and brought her back a remote set for the big button to run the middle overhead garage door. She already had the code for the electronic deadbolts. Her smile was my reward. She went to my room, changed into her pajamas, and came back to the living room. Buster jumped up next to her for some love, and we just sat, comfortably, her leaning on me, and Buster leaning on her, listening to the TV droning on and not catching a bit of it.

That night, I asked and was granted permission to try to please her. I undressed her at the foot of the bed, carefully unbuttoning her top, and then on my knees, pulling the bottoms down over her cute little rear end, down her legs, and helping her step out of them. She was a wonder. I kissed her belly, just above a small blonde patch of wispy hair, put my arms gently around her and hugged her to my head. She touched my head and then held it with both hands. I felt her sigh. I felt the release. I felt her let go.

Kissing her tummy again, and teasing her with a little lick, I pulled her over by the shower, stripped and threw my clothes back into the bedroom on the floor, then guided her into the shower, turning on the water, and not touching her yet, showed her the different things I had for cleaning up in there and started to wash myself. I watched as she pulled the blue poof off the hook, put a squirt of Ocean Breeze scented soap on it and went to town. She watched me the whole time, noticing, I’m sure, the excitement she was causing. Especially when she squatted a bit and did her bottom, front and back. She grinned at my smile.

“Wash my back?” she asked. I did it twice, once with the poof and once with my bare hands. I knew her favorite method now, as the poof did NOT receive the uttered moan. That would be the bare-handed Charlie washing method. “Don’t stop, love. Please? Keep going. I’ve never experienced anything like that. It feels so good.” I washed her, bare handed with plenty of soap, everywhere below her ears. I did her behind using my middle finger to clean around and over her anus. I hesitated in front, but she pulled my other hand to her and put it there herself. “Yes, babe, there, too. Please. You can do it. You gave yourself to me. Let’s see if it works the other way. It needs to.”

I cleaned her lips, inner and outer, teased her clitoris with the pad of my finger, then pulled away, rinsed her with the shower wand and my hand, rinsed myself under the showerhead, and pulled her out to dry. After that was done, I picked her up, gently, carried her to the bed, pulled the covers and sheet back, and lay her head on the pillow. Then it was my turn. Starting at her feet, I kissed and touched. Fondled would be more like it.