Dorsai - Jan

"Well, I'm sorry that I disappointed you, then."

"There's no reason for you to be sorry about that, either. This situation is something pretty unique, and I don't see how you could possibly expect to find solutions when you didn't even know the full extent of the problem."

"Then why are you disappointed?"

"Because if you had started thinking it through, I expect that you would have run into the questions I asked, and realized that you didn't have enough information. At that point, you would either give up – which I doubt you would – or realize that you needed to talk to someone about it. And considering the topic, I expect that I would have been that person, and could have helped you."

"Okay, I understand now. I'm just sorry that I messed it all up, though."

"You obviously weren't paying attention to what was said, then."

"What do you mean?"

"If you had been, you would have heard me say that when you two were able to answer my questions, then I would be able to give you an answer – which means that I haven't decided yet, which means that I haven'tsaid 'no'. And you would have heard Kelly say that she was going to find the answers to HER questions, AND come back to ask me again."

"Oh."

"Do you remember what Kelly just said to you?"

"Uh, yeah, that she knew I wanted to talk to you, and she was going to wait in my room, and we'd talk then."

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The light goes one, and Jan says"Oh."

Then"OH!"

"Trouble, life doesn't have a rewind button. You've got to catch it the one time it's played."

"Yeah, I guess so!" Then, a few moments later, "Uh, are we done?"

"I suppose so, since you're so eager to get back there with Kelly.", I laughed.

She laughed, too, and took off.

They pretty much stayed in Jan's room for the rest of the evening, coming out only for supper (pizza and sodas), during which time, Jan was watching me a little, with love in her eyes. Kelly, on the other hand, was looking at me in a very contemplative manner; I kind of felt like a bug under a microscope, or something, but was careful not to take any notice of her, other than to chat with her a little about school and such.

The boys and I retreated to the den after clearing the table, and had a rousing game of Life that lasted past their bedtime. John and Leo battled it out to the very end, with me far behind. Ultimately, John won, but just barely, with Leo second, and my distant third. Playing a game of sorts, I'd let the boys stay up past their bedtime, and let them slide on baths that night, with the promise that they'd take showers the next morning. As far as they knew, it was our secret that I was so lax.

Paul knew, of course, but pretended not to: he didn't mind, since I was careful to only do it on weekends. Soon they were in bed, and not long after that, sound asleep. I'd returned to the den, and was able to catch the start of the evening news.

About the time the sports came on, Jan came in and sat next to me on the couch, snuggling into my side, pulled my arm around her, and held my hand in her lap. I could tell she wanted to talk, so I turned the TV off (I don't care much about sports, anyway, which she knew), and gave her a kiss on top of the head to encourage her.

"Uncle Dan, I've been talking to Kelly, and thinking about what you said to us earlier."

"And?"

"And I've decided that I really don't mind if Kelly wants to be with you more than once."

"Is that so?"

"Yup. Talking to her tonight, I realized that she's already a little in love with you, and that I didn't mind. When I started thinking about that, I knew that if you, uh, helped her, she'd be even happier, and more in love with you – but that it wouldn't change anything about the way that you love ME. And I know that if you help her, you won't be able to help but love her, too; I mean, that's just the kind of guy you are – you wouldn't do it just to touch her or see her naked or anything like that, you'd do it because you cared about her, and wanted her to be happy and make her feel good. Just like I love you, I love her, too, in a different way, and want her to be happy. If that means that she's with you more than once, then it's okay with me, because I do love her -and you."

"What do you mean, she's already a little in love with me?"

"When you were talking to her, it wasn't like she was a kid or something; you didn't worry about anything except being honest with her.

Even when you said that about her being lonely, and it hurt her, you didn't try to baby her. Nobody's ever really been like that with her before; the ones that know she's smart still treat her like she's stupid, if you know what I mean. So, when you didn't worry about it, she understood it to mean that you actually respected her, and that whole thing you told us about respect kind of kicked in. So, because you respect her, she loves you a little."

"Trouble, don't tell her this, but when I said that about her being lonely, I did it the mean way, just to find out if she was going to be grown up or not. If she'd started crying or acting up about it, I'd know that emotionally she wasn't ready; but because she responded with adult emotions and thoughts, she proved to me that she's a young woman, not a little girl."

She looked up at me for a moment, to say, "You're sneaky."

"Yeah. And your point is… what?" earning myself a giggle and hug from her.

She returned to snuggling against me, and asked, "So when she asks you again, what are you going to tell her?"

"So, spying for her, are you?"

"No. Well, okay, a little. What are you going to say?"

"That depends. If she's really thought it through, and knows what she wants and can tell me, then I'll probably say 'yes'" – a small gasp next to me – "But she has to understand that no matter how much I like her, even love her, I'm not going to do it unless and until she's able to convince me that she's really ready; and I think – I hope! – you can vouch that that isn't easy."

"Yeah, I can!"

"Good. Now you can go back and tell her that you were able to weasel the answers out of me, without my even knowing you were doing it."

"Yeah, like she'd believe that." she answered, but got up anyway, and headed off.

I turned the TV back on, and got it tuned to the channel that offered "Politically Incorrect", a rather irreverent kind-of talk show that I sometimes enjoyed. Usually, the guests were actors, authors, and other folks that lived far enough from reality as to have no idea that clues even existed, never mind having one. But, every so often, he'd get a group together that actually had something interesting to say. Once set up, I muted the TV, so I could get a little more out of the book I'd started.

I was mildly surprised, then, when about a half hour later, when the two of them came walking into the den. Kelly, wearing her robe, sat down in one of the chairs diagonally across from the couch, while Jan, in her nightie, sat on the hearth. I noted the page I was on (never have needed to fold pages (horror!), or use bookmarks), and put it down, waiting for one of them to speak. Kelly cleared her throat, indicating that she wanted to speak first. Interestingly, she looked nervous, but quite resolved about what she'd come in there for.

After a couple of false starts, she was finally able to say, "Dan, I've thought about what you said, and the questions you had. When I've, uh, masturbated, I've had what I thought were orgasms; but nothing like what Jan has told me she's experienced, so I don't think that's what they really were. So what I want from you is for you to help me learn what kinds of things will help me have stronger orgasms, and help me start learning what things I like and don't like about sex. I want you to teach me about what it feels like when a man uses his mouth on me, and how I can do the same for him. I want to learn touching, and kissing, and all of that. I want to learn all of the things that you've shown Jan – she's told me what they are, all of them. I want to know what a penis looks and feels like, when it's hard and when it's not, what a man's testicles look like and feel like. I want to see what a man looks like when he ejaculates, and even what his semen feels and tastes like. I'm even willing to find out what*I* taste like, when I'm as excited as Jan has told me she gets; I never seem to get wet enough to really know.