Mentor

"Ally, as much as I hate to admit it, I think they did the right thing in pushing us apart."

"Bullshit!" she said, a bit louder than necessary. "Dad smothered me, not letting me have many friends, especially guy friends, wouldn't let me wear makeup, and stopped me from being friends with one of my best friends without even letting me say goodbye. That really sounds like the right thing to me. Right."

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I didn't mean the way he did it, but that we didn't have any type of future together as more than friends."

"Bill, I don't know, maybe I needed a father who wasn't a self-righteous prick. Do you know what I did in college?"

"No..."

"I went out west, as far from home as I could get, and, when I found out with the help of my sorority sisters that I wasn't quite as plain and ugly as dear Daddy had forced me to believe for all those years, I went on a binge."

"Oh, Ally, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, second semester, I gave away my virginity to a guy whose name I don't even remember, and then I fucked a different guy almost every night for a month."

Bill felt uneasy, shaking his head. "Ally, I don't need to hear this."

"But I need to tell it," she snapped. "Please?"

He nodded, hoping he could get through it to help, if that's what she needed, without being sick.

"My Big Sister in my sorority had been one of my few friends for years—Daddy didn't know about her—so, when she saw what was happening to me, she helped me get straightened out by setting me up with this really nice guy. He took me to dinner and we talked—a little like this, actually—and then he walked me back to my dorm before asking if he could see me again. He didn't try to come in. He didn't feel up my boobs or try to slide his hand up my skirt to finger me. He was nice, sweet."

"Sounds like your friend had your best interests at heart."

"Oh, she did. That week, I didn't go out, I didn't fuck a single guy, but by the next Friday night, I was horny as could be, and didn't care how nice he was. All I could think about was peeling his pants off of him, licking him like a popsicle, over and over, up and down, flicking his head until he quivered and then deep throating him until he shot in my mouth. I'd drool a little on each of my perky titties, swirl it around my nipples, around and around until they were hard little nubs, and then, after giving him a good look at his spunk in my mouth, swallow it all."

Bill, having had more wine than he'd drunk in years, was clearly uncomfortable, shifting in his chair, trying to control his breathing and calm the budding erection he was involuntarily getting from the terrible images she was painting. "Ally, please! Is there a point to this?"

She nodded. "Just a little more, I promise."

He gave a nod, feeling sick, not only from her tale but also that it was exciting him far too much.

"It played out just like that, except it was in the back seat of his car, and then, when he'd gotten some relief, I climbed on, facing him, my titties in his face as he slid inside me. I rocked up and down his cock—my God, it had to have been 8-inches long and well over 2-inches in diameter, on and on, while he sucked on my nipples, sperm covered and all. We didn't care, we were just fucking like there was nobody else in the world. He had a pretty big bush to go with his monster meat, and I was grinding my clit through it every time, so I ended up coming five or six times, absolutely soaking him and his car seat, before he came again. He wasn't using a condom—I was on birth control by then through the university—so I felt his juice flooding into me, making me tingle more than I already was."

Bill shifted, adjusting himself under the table even though she clearly knew what he was doing. He was hurting and didn't care. "Ally, I'm sorry, but that's enough. What's the point?"

Her face relaxed and she smiled. "So, what do you think? It's a scene from my next novel. Do you think it's hot enough or do I need to rewrite it?"

His hands fell to the table as he slumped downward. "It's...a fucking...story?"

"Yes, of course, it's a fucking story. What I'm asking, is do you think it's a good fucking story or a ho-hum, boring fucking story." She was grinning.

"You said this was your story. So you really just made this up?"

Laughter covered Ally's face before it actually broke out, with her shaking her head. "You're so easy, WRG! I had you going from the start! It may not have been a great scene, but it had your motor revving." She laughed happily before taking his hand and giving him a squeeze.

He drew back, hanging his head in his hands, staring at the table, before Ally reached across to him, placing her palms against his forearms.

"Bill, are you okay?"

He let out a long, slow sigh.

"Ally, please. Don't ever do that again."

"We'll see." She was smiling so improperly that he ended up chuckling, too.

They talked for a while longer and drank more of the wine. When the restaurant started clearing out and they realized how late it was getting, Bill said, "I haven't had this much to drink in years and I'm definitely not going to drive. I'll walk you to your room and then I'm going to rent a room for the night."

Ally shook her head. "No way! I have a suite with a couch. You can sleep on that. The publisher is paying for lodging on this tour so Mom and I usually share a room when she comes with me, but I told her I wasn't spending three nights stuck in a room with her this week. I made her get her own this time since I thought I might want to have a little fun."

She grinned when she said it, teasing him again, but Bill shook his head. "Ally, I can't sleep in your room, even on a couch. I think your mom is figuring on your fun because she's thinking you want it with me. She'd be upset with you and she'd kill me if I were to spend the night in your room, even platonically, if she found out."

"WRG, I won't tell her if you won't. See how easy that was? Now, let's go."

***

Bill, with the worst hangover he'd had since college, was awakened by loud voices, with Mrs. Brady yelling at Ally and when Bill sat up on the couch, she yelled at him, too, and then slapped him. It wasn't hard but it was a surprise and it stung.

Ally, wearing a sheer babydoll-type nightie and a g-string that showed her ass, was much calmer than her mother, trying to explain the situation, saying that Bill didn't do anything to her and she didn't do anything to him. It took Bill a moment to remember through the fog of his hangover, as he stared off in another direction, trying to keep from seeing those lovely, tight buttocks that had practically burned their way into his eyes.

When they arrived at the room, the suite wasn't actually two rooms but a room and a half with a partial divider separating the bedroom from the sitting area.

"Ally, I'm sorry but this is a bad idea. I can't stay here."

"Yes, you can and you are," she said as she pinned him to the wall and started kissing him, her tongue in his mouth.

It felt so good after such a long period without physical contact, without affection, and he responded for a moment, kissing her back, before his conscience kicked in. He turned, withdrawing from her.

"Ally, no! I can't do this! I have to go."

"No," she said, pulling him to sit down on the couch. He was barely seated when Ally was atop, straddling him, and kissing him again, her tongue in his mouth and Bill feeling like he was in heaven.

It was Bill's turn to say no again, but when he did, Ally grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands..

"Why not, Bill? Everything, I mean everything to the word, that I told you earlier was true; yes, it's going to be in my next book, but I based it off of what happened that night in Kenny Jassick's car. It really happened, Bill, and it was fun. I still love to suck a nice cock every now and then, but fucking's a hell of a lot more fun."

"Ally, stop it!"

"Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but when I went off to college, I didn't have a crush on you but I'd much rather have had you to be my first than some asshat of a guy whose name I don't even remember. Yeah, it's years too late for that now, but you can still be mine, just once Bill. Tonight, okay?"

"No, Ally," he said, struggling now to force out the words. "Ally, you're like a daughter to me; I don't see you like that."

"Ummm, think I can change that?" Her sex, covered only by a thin panty under her dress, was pressed against him and, he realized, his erection that shouldn't have been, the erection that now he couldn't control. She moved slowly, sliding herself against him through his pants and, in seconds, she was panting and moaning as she humped against him.

"Ally, no! That's enough!"

"Bill, am I being bad?" she asked coyly as she continued her rocking.

"God! You know you're being bad!"

"Do I need to be spanked?"

Her smile was prim and far too playful, angering him. "Oh, God, you're incorrigible. Stop it!"

She was laughing as he physically picked her up and removed her from his lap. There was a big wet spot over the fly of his pants where she'd been rubbing, though he knew it wasn't from him. She rolled up in a ball, laughing and it wasn't too long before Bill, still tipsy, laughed, too.

When they were calm again, Ally promised to behave so they sat on the couch, a respectable distance apart, and they started talking, careful to avoid anything of a sexual bent. Perhaps an hour later, they fell asleep, with Bill on the couch and Ally in the bed.

So when Lynn Marie Brady was yelling at them, Bill knew that Ally was technically telling the truth that he hadn't done anything to her and she hadn't done anything to him (well, too much, anyway, even though she'd tried). That she'd tried very hard to do something to herself using him as a working surface was best forgotten.

Squinting, Bill rose up and found his glasses with Ally and Mrs. Brady still arguing.

"Ladies! Please forgive me for causing this, but I need to leave to let the two of you calm down."

"WRG, don't go!"

"Ally, I have to. I'm your friend, but part of friendship is helping solve a problem when it's creating issues between others, like here with your mom. She may hate me, but she loves you and the two of you need to work this out, hug each other like a mother and daughter should, and move on."

He was fighting off a tear as he said it, hoping he hoped he hadn't messed things up too badly between Ally and Mrs. Brady.

Ally had tears in her eyes, too, as she threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. She tipped her face up to kiss him, but he turned away, only to see Mrs. Brady staring daggers at him. Ally kissed his cheek instead of his lips, so, staring into Mrs. Brady's eyes, he kissed Ally's cheek in reply and said, "Take care, Ally."

***

Chapter 4

The phone rang when he was leaving the local Walmart with a basket full of supplies. Before he saw the store and thought about turning in to do his shopping, he'd been on his way home to sit and feel sorry for himself about how he'd found his young friend but wouldn't be able to be her friend anymore due to hormones.

Both hers and his.

He hated to admit it but it really had been hard resisting the urge to give in to what she wanted last night. He was still trying to put it out of his mind as he pulled into the grocery store parking lot a little later; the phone rang again and he ignored it once more.

He parked and was walking toward the store when the phone rang a third time. This time, he looked and saw Ally's name on the screen.

"Ally, what's wrong?"

"WRG, you left without talking to me! And I really need that, to talk to you. I'm almost 29 years old and my bitch mother's treating me like I'm a kid again. Wait! I know, I shouldn't have called her that. Sorry."

He smiled to himself; self-policing was one of the personal issues that he'd tried to help her with when she was a kid, so he was glad to see she was still trying to practice that.

"I love her, but she's driving me crazy! I need you to talk to me, to help me work it out; I could always think more clearly when we talked on the computer in the old days."

"Ally, think about that, what you said. In the old days. You've grown up now and you've been handling yourself, your life, and your mom just fine for a lot of years since our last discussion. You don't need me now. You can do it on your own."

"I know," she said softly. "I should have done this tour on my own, but Mom wanted to come, too, to help. She's probably helped too much, and now she thinks she's back in charge again, of my schedule, my desires...my body. I'm not a kid anymore; I'm a woman and I have needs, whether she wants to admit it or not."

"Ally, listen to me, Sweetheart. I love you like a daughter, which is why we're having this conversation, but you and your mom have both reminded me, pointedly, that you're not my daughter and you've also reminded me and yourself that you're an adult. A quite beautiful, extremely sexy, and seemingly sensual and very hungry adult, but between you and me, that means I can't trust either of us to do the right thing when we're alone together. Ally, I don't care about your sexual history. I don't care if you've screwed half the guys in the country. I won't be one of them."

"WRG, it's because of our age, isn't it?"

"No! Ohhhhh! Well, that could have something to do with it if I had my head screwed on straight, but Ally, it's more than that. I don't love you in a let's get drunk and screw scenario."

A lady getting a shopping cart looked around at him, staring. He frowned back at her, scaring her off, before he continued, more quietly. "You're an absolutely beautiful young lady, so do you think, if I did, or even if I was a guy who didn't care a whit about love, do you think I wouldn't have taken you last night and screwed your brains out when I had the opportunity? When you were begging for it? Do you have a clue how hard it was to resist you when my body was begging to have that physical intimacy with you? That release? Ally, I haven't been with a woman since my wife died, but when I do, it's not going to be someone that I've cared about like I've cared about you for so long."

"Pfffffh. So that's it? We go back to you just being the mentor on the other end of the computer line? I send you a note when I have an issue, and you help me define it so I can work out a solution? Is that it?"

"Ally, yes, whenever you need that, I'll be there for you, and maybe we can even get together when we find ourselves in the same town, but no more hotel rooms. I'll always love you, Ally, and I'll always try to help you however I can, but that stops when it comes to the physical side and helping you get yourself, or me, off."

"I'm sorry," she said sadly, quietly. "I was so excited I didn't think about your feelings on everything. Are you mad at me?"

"Maybe, just a tiny bit," he said, smiling at her obvious discomfort as she gave a little whine over the phone. "But all's forgiven and I'm here for you, always, for anything other than, uh, sexual gratification."

"Thank you, WRG. I love you, I do, but, you're right, I'm an adult and I've been on my own and making my own choices for years, so I'll try to keep that to a platonic level."

"Thanks, Sweetheart. I love you, too. Equally platonically," he said before cringing at the horrible double adverb.

She seemed to catch it, too, for she laughed lightly. "I'll talk to you soon, okay? I've got to go find Mom now and try to work things out with her."

"I'm looking forward to it," Bill agreed, "and good luck with your mom. Bye."

***

When Bill arrived at home almost an hour later, there was a small sedan parked on the street next to his driveway. He was pulling into the garage when he saw someone getting out and coming around the car. Going outside, he saw Lynn Marie Brady striding up the driveway toward him.

"Mr. Humphries, where have you been? I've been waiting here for you for two hours and I'm about to bust. Can I use your bathroom?"

Waiting for him? Bill was confused. "Mrs. Brady, what the hell are you doing here?"

She stopped, stepping from foot to foot like a four year old, and he suddenly realized how serious she was. "Looks like you better come on in if you don't want to squat behind a bush."

She gave him an awful face, but he wasn't sure how much was anger at him and how much was trying to keep from letting it fly. He unlocked the door and opened it for her. "Left, first left, first right."

"Thank you!" she said, almost flying past him as he turned off the alarm. She was probably entering the bathroom when he heard her cry. The door slammed, there was a small string of curses, and then there was a long, powerful, jetlike stream in the toilet bowl before he heard a sigh of relief, a flush, and running water. That, and he wasn't even trying to listen.

"Uh, Mr. Humphries?" she said from inside the bathroom. "I, ah, I think I left my purse in the rental car. Do you have a little plastic bag I can have?"

"Here." He handed her a zip-type sandwich bag from the kitchen when she opened the door before she quickly closed it back. When she came out a few moments later, she was carrying the bag behind her, but he noticed a long wet stain on the bottom of her dress. While he hadn't noticed during her harrangue earlier in the morning, at least someone got to change clothes since the night before.

"Mrs. Brady, I hate to ask this but do you need a change of clothes while I do a quick load of laundry?"

She looked quite sheepish before putting her hand over her mouth, as if suppressing a little laugh. "Would it be too much trouble? I really thought I was doing well and could control it until I got out of the car and stood up. Then, it was like a tsunami hit me."

"Or something," he agreed, desperately trying to keep from bursting out laughing. "Come on upstairs. I think we can find something for you."

"It's not ideal," he said a couple of minutes later, but here's one of Kelly's old sleep t-shirts, some boxer briefs, and a bathrobe to cover yourself. Go in the bathroom and get a shower, but hand your things out first and I'll run them through the washer."

She was hiding behind the door as she handed everything out through a narrow crack before closing and locking it. He took her things to the laundry room and started to toss them in the washer when he saw she'd handed him her bra, a pretty, nude, lacy thing, as well. He wasn't sure why it needed to be washed; maybe the pee had splashed? If so, he feared he was going to have a real mess to clean up downstairs.

He was about to drop the unpadded brassiere in the tub when he saw the strap and looked at it—38D—before he thought of how he was invading her privacy. "Oops," he said to himself before dropping it in, adding the liquid, and starting the express cycle.

Mrs. Brady came out of the bathroom a little later, her makeup washed away, holding her arms across her breasts. She had a surprisingly sheepish look. "Excuse me, Mr. Humphries, but did I give you my bra for the washer, too?"

"Yes, Ma'am, it's in there."

She turned away and gave a long sigh before she whispered to herself but just loud enough for him to overhear, "Shit!"

He smiled, remembering how Ally always told him her parents were so strict when she was growing up. He suspected that was where some of her issues originated, but now her mother, he saw, wasn't quite the saint he'd always imagined her to be.

"Ahem, Mrs. Brady, you look fine. How about coming downstairs for a cup of coffee? Or maybe tea or a soft drink, if you'd prefer?"

She nodded. "If you don't mind, I'll go out to the car to get my purse while you make the coffee. I feel a bit naked without my makeup."