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The waterworks gushed. She buried her face in my collar. She cried her eyes out. I made whatever shushing noises I thought could help.“You have been good.” I admitted. “You’ve been good to me.”“Do I have to give you a handjob?” She hissed. I patted her blonde hair.“You don’t have to do--”She was scrambling at my fly and tugging down my jeans. I grabbed her head with both hands. I tilted her red running face up to mine. My jeans and boxers stopped falling around my knees.“I’ll make it feel really good and--”“Renée stop!” I shouted, but she kept blubbering.“I’ve done it a few times. I know what I’m doing. I could suck you or-”“Connie, help!” I pleaded over Renée’s head.“Nope, one girl’s enough for you, Dean. I think she’d be more upset if she had to share you right now.” Connie said. She brushed her hair back and I hated her. That feeling passed.“I’m your girl!” Renée bellowed into my chest. She had collapsed against me and I hugged her hard. Gone limp, she weighed more than she. We were about an hour outside of Vegas when I felt Jen's soft hand resting on my knee, the way this whole adventure had started. She rubbed my knee gently, her movements sensual but not overly sexual. I turned to her and grinned, enjoying the contact."Ed? I've been thinking about what we said last night. I think — I think I have to be fair to Mike. I think I have to try and be faithful to him."My heart dropped into my feet, and I swallowed hard. I pulled my knee away from Jen's hand, and from the corner of my eye, I could see the startled look on her face as I did so."Of course, Jen," I said tonelessly. "He's your husband, and I'm your cousin. Obviously that's the right thing to do."The next couple of hours were pretty awkward, and pretty silent. Between Barstow and Bakersfield, we stopped at a Burger King to pick up some lunch, and for Jen to take a turn at the wheel. When we were back on the road, I finished my lunch and wiped my hands. Taking a deep breath, I set one hand on Jen's.
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