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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Connection
by Vert (cldstories@yahoo.com)
***
Kasey is a thirteen year old girl who dreams of becoming
a writer, frustrated by living in an unimaginative
suburb. Chris is a frustrated creative spirit, trapped
by a loveless marriage. When they find each other, they
fall in love. (M/f-teen, ped, 1st, mast, oral, cheat,
rom)
***
Author Notes: This story is listed as Mf, because sexual
activity begins when the girl is 13. Flirtations and a
few kisses (and a solitary masturbation scene) occur
when the girl is still 12. This non-sexual portion of
the story could be categorized as Mg ped.)
The following is a work of fiction. All persons and
events described in this work exist only in the author's
imagination. The author does not condone sexual acts
with an underage partner, and would like to remind the
reader of the importance of distinguishing between
reality and fantasy.
***
One:
Letting the towel drop to the floor, Kasey took one step
forward, toward the full length mirror mounted behind
the bathroom door, and looked at the reflection of her
naked thirteen year old body.
What did Chris see in her? What WOULD he see in her when
he saw all of her? Kasey examined herself, excited and
nervous. Worried. She was short, so much shorter than
him; that, of course, he knew. At least she had nice
legs, though they were thicker than she'd like. She had
just a bit of hair down there, though how much she was
supposed to have, she had no idea.
Kasey wondered when her breasts would arrive. She had
been thirteen for a week now, but was still less endowed
than some eleven year olds she knew. Tiny conical buds,
they seemed to protrude more to the side, away from each
other, than forward. She placed her hands over them,
dwarfing them. Covering what little there was to cover,
as usual. Kasey thought of the loose t-shirts she
typically wore, compared to what her friends preferred.
For most girls, skin tight didn't seem tight enough.
Would
she be the same way when she had something to show off?
She didn't really want to show anything off to anyone
anyway, except Chris. Kasey wondered if he had any idea
how small her breasts really were.
Removing her hands, Kasey thought that her little buds
might not seem so little if her body wasn't so wide. It
seemed like a vast ocean of space between the left one
and the right one, a flat expanse of chest. Of course,
it would be helpful if they were even half as prominent
as her belly. Not that she was fat - she wasn't, and
wasn't about to get all anorexic worrying about it - but
she would be lying if she called herself anything less
than chubby. That belly was the most noticeable part of
her body.
Looking up quickly to her face, she breathed deeply.
This was the part of her that Chris already knew. She
wasn't ugly - not by any means. That, she thought, may
be the nicest thing she could say about her looks. If
anything, she was plain. She was a little pale, but that
was OK. Her hair, almost shoulder length, was brown.
Just brown. She would have liked to have found a way to
describe it better, but couldn't. It wasn't exactly
chestnut brown, not auburn brown, definitely not sandy
brown, not coffee or toffee or silky brown. There was
really no other way to describe it. It was just brown.
Some writer she was going to be, Kasey thought.
It was the same with her eyes; the best way she could
describe them was just plain ordinary brown. Any added
adverb just made the description less accurate. They
weren't amber, light brown, dark brown, hazel,
chocolate, or any other exotically sounding brown. They
were simply brown. Furthermore, they weren't
exceptionally big, or small, deep-set, or buggy,
teardrop shaped, or otherwise exotic. They were simply
round, brown eyes. Her nose was neither big nor small.
She was simply pale white, brown haired, brown eyed
Kasey. If it weren't for the fact that she had too many
freckles, and that her cheeks were somewhat too chubby,
she wondered if anyone would ever be able to describe
her if she were missing.
And of course, there were the spots. Kasey forced
herself to look at her body below her slowly emerging
breasts, above her prominent belly. Two elongated dark
brown birthmarks, northeast and southwest, each as wide
as her finger, one almost as long as a finger, and the
other longer. If her breasts ever decided to get with
the program, the left one would be marked by the upper
spot.
Kasey swallowed. What would Chris think when he saw
them? She had always been anxious about a boy seeing
them, someday, but never though much about it because
she'd always assumed it would be a long way off. Of
course, that was before Chris, before everything
changed. Kasey smiled, saw herself smiling in the
mirror, and looked down. Thinking about Chris made the
anxiety go away. She wrapped herself in thoughts of how
he looked at her, how he whispered to her, how he kissed
her. If it was Chris seeing her, she was ready to be
seen. Ready today. Ready right now.
But still, she was nervous.
Putting on her robe, Kasey walked down the hall toward
her room. Inside, closing the door, she fell onto the
bed, smiling, thinking of Chris.
She had known him for as long as she could remember, or
at least known who he was. He'd always been there, at
least in the background, living just down the street and
around the corner. For most of her life, if she was
aware of his name, she couldn't remember, though she was
sure she remembered that he was nice, and extremely
cool, and slightly different, in a good way. Kasey
couldn't remember if she actively thought of him this
way, or if she actively thought of him much at all.
Mostly, she just thought of him as Sara's dad.
Tall and handsome, thin but strong, he had a runner's
physique. He was young for a dad, but he already had a
few gray hairs, hidden in the light blonde ones. He had
hair just a little longer than most guys his age, and
sideburns. Nevertheless, he parted his hair neatly on
the side, giving away his membership in the generation
prior to the boys her own age, with their more up-to-
date hairstyles.
Crystal blue eyes. A soft friendly smile. He was shy, in
a cute way. Kasey never imagined she'd think of a thirty
six year old as cute, but there was no other way to
describe him. He was cute. And, Kasey began to notice,
he just didn't seem to belong in the suburban hell that
was their home.
It had been a year or two prior when Kasey had noticed
how different Chris was from the other suburban dads. It
wasn't immediately obvious, but wasn't entirely hard to
miss. He was younger than most of the dads with kids her
age, by about a decade. He was thinner, too. He didn't
have a beer belly, or any other belly to speak of.
Mostly, though, he seemed bored. Or maybe restless.
Chris liked some sports, could watch a football game now
and then, but didn't seem to have the passion for it
that the neighborhood men had. He could sometimes hold
his own in a conversation about the NFL playoffs, or
college basketball, but even a few minutes into a
conversation based around sports, his eyes would start
to glaze over, like he just didn't care. It was the same
with house and yard maintenance. Chris took good care of
his house and his yard, but to him, these were just
chores that needed to be done. Kasey's own dad, and most
of his friends could talk for hours about power tools,
or grass seed, or hardwood flooring.
Chris could keep up with the conversation, not missing a
beat, but still leave the impression that none of it
really mattered. He could honestly care less about cars,
a passion of most of the neighborhood dads. At
neighborhood cookouts, he socialized, but sometimes
seemed he'd rather be anywhere else, as if he were bored
by it all.
Kasey could hear Sara clearly in her mind. "Oh. My. God.
My Dad is SO weird." She loved him, really, Kasey could
tell, but always complained. "We were, like, at the art
museum, and all the kids and all the other parents were
just trying to get through the place and be done, but MY
DAD had to look at, like, every bizarre painting in the
place." Or, when asked where her Dad was going, "Oh,
down to that music club downtown to hear some weird band
nobody's ever heard of."
At that time, Kasey knew that Sara's dad, as she then
thought of him, took lots of pictures. What she didn't
know then was that he had won awards in art shows taking
those pictures, or that he had been trying to make it as
a photojournalist when he opted to take a better paying
office job, that he hated, when Sara was born. Kasey
knew he liked to read; she would learn to notice the way
he struggled not to roll his eyes when someone asked if
he'd read the latest John Grisham thriller.
Kasey was eleven when she began to really notice all the
ways that Chris was different, just didn't belong in
greater suburbia. He seemed above it all, more
interesting, but more weird. In a good way. At the time,
she started to feel sorry for him, since he didn't
really seem happy. She didn't know why she noticed these
things about him, but she did. And she thought about
them. And she thought about HIM. Kasey began smiling at
him and saying "Hi" every time she saw him, because she
liked the idea that maybe she could cheer him up. And he
was always friendly, even though he seemed sad. Around
this time, she stopped thinking of him as "Sara's dad,"
and started thinking of him as "Chris."
Kasey also started noticing the tingles, the butterflies
in her stomach, the sweaty palms every time she saw
Chris. She realized what was happening, and tried to
talk herself out of her feelings. "You can't like him
like that," she told herself, "you're only eleven, and
he's, like, thirty-something. He's a dad. It could never
work." She honestly tried to get rid of her crush. She
tried thinking of boys her age, but after dwelling on
Chris, they seemed completely immature and even
clueless. She tried thinking of teenage boys, but most
of the ones she knew were jerks. There were a few boys
she liked, but she found that her attraction to them
paled in comparison to her feelings for Chris.
Eventually, she gave up. She couldn't help it. She
started to accept the fact that she had the serious hots
for a grown up guy. It was only a crush, anyway.
Besides, it wasn't like anything was actually going to
happen for real any time soon, with Chris, or any other
boy. She was a chubby, plain, freckle- faced,
bespectacled eleven year old girl. It wasn't like boys
were lining up to kiss her. What would it hurt to dream
about a grown up guy? Besides, she was almost twelve,
more than halfway to grown-up, more than old enough to
dream.
This was also when Kasey began to hate Sara's mom (she
would never think of her as Chris' wife, only ever as
Sara's mom.) Mostly, of course, it was jealousy, and
Kasey knew that, but she couldn't help it. Jessica was
stunningly beautiful, ridiculously beautiful, could-be-
a-model beautiful, in the way that made men stop and
stare. It was the kind of intimidating beauty that made
Kasey think she'd never have anyone like Chris. But it
was more than that.
Jessica, unlike Chris, fit right in in the suburbs. More
than anything in the world, she liked to shop. She was
as dull as Chris was bright, and Kasey always wondered
how they ever ended up together. On the other hand,
Kasey knew that if it weren't for Jessica, there would
be no Sara, Chris most likely wouldn't be living on this
street, and Kasey would never have known him, so at
least she owed Jessica a little thanks. Nevertheless,
she hated her.
Kasey thought she'd better start brushing her hair,
before it dried. She sat in front of her mirror, still
in her robe, fidgeting with her brush. She was nervous,
and knew she was stalling. She began brushing her hair,
thinking about how quickly the hopeless crush of eleven
years old turned into the blissful romance of twelve
years old.
In truth, she was almost twelve and a half when it
happened. And to be brutally honest, her initial crush
on Chris had peaked a couple of months earlier. Of
course she still liked him, liked him a lot, but she was
twelve now, more sensible, and besides, the boys her own
age were beginning to mature. Kasey was alternating her
dreams of Chris with her dreams of Tyler, and dreams of
Austin, Chris again the awkward sore thumb, not quite
fitting in among her mental lineup of cute boys, the
lone thirty-something with two twelve year olds. She
still liked him, but had come to accept that nothing
would ever happen.
And then it happened. Thank God for the cookouts Sara's
family has every month, Kasey thought. At one of those
cookouts, hanging out with all the neighborhood kids,
Kasey went inside to use the bathroom. Someone was in
the bathroom on the main floor. Kasey couldn't wait. She
knew there was a bathroom downstairs, so she bolted for
the stairs, ran down them, and found the spare bathroom
in the corner.
Having finished her business, Kasey looked around the
basement. This, she knew, was Chris' domain, his
hangout. A stylish desk with a laptop computer and some
expensive looking camera equipment. A whole wall of CDs.
A smaller rack of actual old records. A wall of books.
Some old jazz posters. Some artistic, black and white
photos. Some paintings. Kasey started looking around.
Walking around the room, Kasey inspected everything. She
ran her fingers over each row of CDs. A few she had
heard of. Most she hadn't. Some she had read about, and
heard were cool. She saw a component stereo system, with
a humongous set of headphones lying on the floor, and
suddenly wanted to sit down and pick a disc out at
random, listen to it all the way through.
Kasey wondered if she was supposed to be there. She
didn't care. She had been barefoot; she couldn't
remember why, but was sure of it. The concrete floor
felt cold. She looked at the old records, then ran her
hands, in awe, over the shelves of books. This place was
better than their branch of the public library.
She read the names of authors, of titles. Jonathan
Lethem. David Sedaris. Dave Eggers. Gabriel Garcia-
Marquez. Alice Munro. Jeffrey Eugenides. Jonathan Safran
Foer. Paul Auster. Jennifer Egan. Orhan Pamuk. Gary
Shteyngart. She perused books she had read, both for
school and for fun, books she wanted to read, books she
hadn't heard of. Yet. Kasey wondered if, someday, a book
that she wrote would be here, on Chris' shelf. The idea
thrilled her.
She pulled out a slightly worn paperback. Garcia-
Marquez. "Love in the Time of Cholera." She read the
back cover, opened to a random page in the middle and
read just a little. She ran her fingers over the print,
thinking that Chris had read these pages. She felt like
she was being watched.
Looking up quickly, she realized, with some horror, that
she was right. She WAS being watched. Chris was standing
on the third step from the bottom, looking at her. Kasey
remembered sort of gasping - she wasn't sure what to
say. Chris had been friendly, smiling, and sort of
saying hi. He didn't make her feel like some intruder,
or say anything ridiculous, like "Can I help you with
something," like most grown-ups would have; he just
walked over to where Kasey stood paralyzed.
Kasey could never remember the exact conversation that
they had, though she had tried to piece it together in
her mind, many times. Chris had asked her if she'd read
the book, she'd said no, but she'd read "One Hundred
Years of Solitude," Chris wondered if it was for school,
and sort of couldn't believe it when she said she'd read
it for fun. Chris thought that was awesome, and said
that "Cholera" was good, but not nearly as good as
"Solitude."
They talked about Garcia-Marquez, and magical realism,
and books, and how nobody ever seems to really like to
read. Chris made some comment about how he knew she was
a reader, because anybody else that saw his shelf of
books would have said something like "Wow, have you read
all of these?" Kasey had laughed, too hard, but now she
was calming down, except for the butterflies in her
stomach, and she said something about how cool his
basement was, and she wanted to listen to all of his
CDs, and he said that she could if she wanted to, and
she didn't know if he was kidding or not.
She remembered that they talked for ten whole minutes,
ten wonderful minutes, and that Chris had called her
"Kasey," and she was impressed that he actually knew her
name, but he didn't know that she spelled it with a "K"
instead of a "C", but still she was flattered, and then
Jessica yelled down the stairs that Chris needed to get
back upstairs and grill, and he said "OK, I'm coming,"
and Kasey was glad that Jessica hadn't seen her, that
she and Chris had this secret time together. She
remembered that even though Chris needed to go cook, he
didn't just yet, they just smiled at each other for a
few seconds, and she thought for a second that he was
checking her out, admiring her, and she remembered
hoping please, please, please, let him be thinking what
I hope he's thinking about me, and isn't it wonderful
that he's thinking about me at all?
Finally, she remembered that he said that she should
take the book with her, read it, enjoy it, and that he
pulled down another Garcia-Marquez book, too, a short
story collection, and handed it to her, told her to read
it if she wanted, and she specifically remembered that
when he handed her the book his hand had touched hers
for just a second, but for a longer second than was
necessary, and she smiled, and he smiled, and she
wondered if that touch had been intentional, hoped it
was, and then Chris walked up the stairs, and then
turned around, and said to borrow any other books she
wanted, and that she could look around as long as she
wanted, and smiled before he walked back upstairs.
Kasey could hardly breathe. She walked around, looked at
books, sat on the floor and tried on Chris' enormous
headphones, listened to part of a CD. She sat in his
chair, at his desk, spun around, put her bare feet up on
his polished wood desk, and began reading "Love in the
Time of Cholera." She would have stayed longer if she
hadn't been afraid of someone wondering where she was.
She sighed, walked upstairs, snuck out the back door,
ran home, hid the books in her room, and ran back to the
cookout, making eye contact with Chris at every
opportunity.
That day had been the highlight of her life to that
point. At home that night, she lay on her bed, reading,
holding Chris' book, hugging it, smelling it, giving it
a little kiss. She was drunk on the memory of that
afternoon. It was this euphoria that led her to actually
pick up the phone and call Sara's house - Chris' house.
She hoped Chris would answer, but made up an excuse to
talk to Sara if he didn't. She held her breath as the
phone rang. "Hello?"
It had been Chris. He had answered. For a second, Kasey
couldn't speak.
"Hello?"
"Um, HI! It's Kasey." she had blurted.
"Kasey? Hi." She thought she could hear him smile
through the phone. She still had trouble finding her
voice. "Listen, Sara's not here, if that's who--"
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you." She couldn't
believe she'd said it. "I just wanted to say thanks for
letting me read the books."
"I'm just glad someone else in this town wants to read
them."
"Yeah." Kasey laughed, a little. "When do you need them
back?"
"Anytime. No rush."
"Good."
"Good."
Kasey remembered how the conversation had started
awkwardly. Soon, however, Chris had admitted that he was
home alone, and they both seemed to just relax, and both
just kept talking - about books, about her school, about
his work, and his old band, and his photography, and her
piano lessons, and even, after she got up the nerve to
admit it, her journals, her piles of aborted poems and
short stories, her desire to be a writer.
She had talked to Chris, effortlessly, for over an hour.
The communication only ended when Sara and her mom came
home, and Chris had to hang up. Kasey read until late
that night, when her mom finally insisted on lights-out.
Then she tried to sleep, but couldn't. Eventually, her
hand found its way under her panties, fingering,
caressing, probing, stroking, pressing, Chris' face in
her mind, his voice, his smile, until she felt the most
intense little explosion down there she'd yet
experienced in her twelve years.
Kasey smiled as she finished brushing her hair,
remembering that night. Even then, she would never have
guessed that phone conversations between her and Chris
would become a regular occurrence, always when one or
the other was home alone. Kasey had learned Chris'
schedule, and Sara's, and Jessica's. Chris had learned
Kasey's schedule, and her parents', and her brother's.
Like water seeping to fill every crack, she and Chris
had somehow found their way to the phone in nearly every
absence of other family members, maintaining an ongoing
secret conversation for months.
And it was wonderful, especially at first, the ambiguous
weeks, when they both knew they liked talking to each
other, but hadn't yet felt each other out, when Kasey
didn't yet know how Chris felt about her, and he didn't
know Kasey's feelings. Hinting had to suffice; hinting,
and ever less vague flirting, until that first kiss.
Kasey found a pair of plain white cotton panties, and
pulled them on as she remembered each of the four times
Chris had kissed her. The first, at another neighborhood
gathering, after an endless afternoon of warm glances,
when he finally found her, alone, at the bottom of
someone's outdoor basement stairs, sitting hidden from
view.
In the few precious seconds they had alone together he
sat next to her, whispered "Hi, Kasey," smiled, and
kissed her. It was quick, but it was wonderful. They
both knew they had to hurry, couldn't risk being
discovered. Kasey had savored the taste of Chris' lips
for a month, until the next opportunity, a few chance
seconds alone in the hallway at Chris' house. Outside
Sara's room, Chris barefoot in swimming trunks and a wet
t-shirt.
After a couple quick "hi's" Chris gently caressed her
cheek, leaned in, and pressed his lips to hers, for a
few seconds, infinitely longer than the last time, as
Kasey quickly slid her feet out of her flip flops to
match his bare-footedness, standing bare foot on bare
foot with Chris.
It was over too quickly, as Sara was coming to the door.
Kiss number three was similar to number one, again at a
family cookout, this time behind someone's shed, again
very quickly, with a big, saucy smile. And number four
happened just last week, in Kasey's own living room,
when Chris came over for Sara's mom to borrow something
from her mom, a mischievous, risky, lingering, almost
giggling kiss as her mom rooted through the kitchen. It
had been delicious.
These four kisses had filled the entirety of the time
they'd spent together alone in the last six months,
maybe ever - not counting the perfect day in Chris'
basement that started it. In all, they probably didn't
amount to more than sixty seconds. But, Kasey thought,
they had sustained her, the kisses, along with the ever
continuing secret phone conversation.
Kasey threw shorts and shirts onto her bed, looking for
anything that would remotely pass as sexy. She simply
didn't have those kind of clothes. She'd never worn
them. She tried on a couple pairs of jean shorts, a pair
of red shorts, a pair of khaki shorts with little
flowers near the seam. Finally, she settled on one of
the pairs of jean shorts, the tightest of the two,
though to actually call them tight would be a stretch.
If anything, they looked dumpy.
Kasey pulled on her training bra, and looked through her
wardrobe for a shirt. She pulled out a white one with
three hearts near the neckline that she had outgrown
last year. It was tight. Unfortunately, all it really
emphasized was her belly, as it just barely met the
waistline of her shorts. Looking in the mirror, Kasey
sized herself up. She looked ridiculous, she thought.
She pulled off the shirt, and wore her standby, the
baggy red one.
As usual, Kasey held her hair back from her face with
two barrettes on each side. She wondered if barrettes
looked too babyish, especially now that she was
thirteen. Remembering that she'd been wearing them for
years, and they hadn't apparently bothered Chris, she
decided just to go with it. It was what she knew. She
did, however, pass over the butterfly barrettes for
plain white ones, which she snapped into place, before
sliding on her glasses.
Kasey took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled quickly.
"Just go," she said aloud, to herself. Sliding her bare
feet into laceless pink plaid canvas shoes, she ran out
the bedroom door, and down the stairs.
"I'm going to the library!"
"OK, be back by supper," her mom yelled back, as she
exited the front door into the early afternoon sun.
It wasn't a total lie. She and Chris would most likely
end up in his basement, which you could conceivably call
a library. Kasey couldn't believe it when Chris had
mentioned the shopping trip that Sara and her mom would
be taking, that he'd be home by himself all afternoon,
just casually, nervously dropping the suggestion that,
you know, she should come over if she wanted to. It was
cute.
It had also been a constant anxiety attack, ever since
Chris mentioned it three days ago. Sleepless nights,
excited, nervous, wondering what the day would hold.
Kasey's mind raced with the possibilities, all the
things she wanted to do with Chris, wondering now which
of her fantasies she actually wanted to come true, at
least for now. She didn't know if she was scared, or
just too excited to really enjoy the sense of
possibility. But now she was on Chris' front porch,
ringing his doorbell, and there was no turning back.
An opened door. A wide smile. Chris, irresistible as
ever, in jeans, a brown t-shirt with the name of some
band on it, and flip flops, a shy smile.
"Hi, Kasey. Come in."
"Hi."
The instant the door clicked shut, Chris leaned gently
toward her, caressed her cheek for a long moment,
pressed his lips gently against hers, and, for the fifth
time, sent her into blissful orbit. As they lingered in
the kiss, Chris slid his arm around her, holding her
lower back tenderly. Just as their lips parted, he let
his linger near hers for just a moment.
"I missed you."
"I missed you, too."
He smiled wide, and took her hand, his fingers
interlacing with hers, as they walked into the kitchen.
"How was your test yesterday?"
"Good! I mean, I think so. I'm pretty sure I aced it, I
think."
"You always do." Chris laughed.
"Did you get to take those pictures yesterday? At that
old building?"
"Yes! I did, and printed them, too. I think they came
out OK."
"I wanna see." Kasey smiled, a little.
"OK, they're downstairs."
And within a minute, Kasey was again in that magical
place, Chris' basement, amazed and somehow comforted by
the orderly rows of books, of CDs, of old records
(vinyl, as Chris called it), cool art, the old but still
trendy looking couch, just the feel of the place. It was
so Chris.
Chris was showing her his new photos, most black and
white, of some crumbling building in the middle of a
field, that was about to be torn down. She hadn't
understood at first why he just had to get there to take
pictures before it was gone, but she could see now that
they were somehow very, very beautiful. Chris just had a
way of seeing the beauty in things.
"See how the whole thing is half fallen down, anyway?
Nature is creeping in, taking over? It's destruction and
rebirth, this sort of chaos, where there's always a
possibility for beauty."
Kasey leaned against him. He was right - she could see
it. She sighed. "They look so old too, kind of? Do you
think? I mean, like, it could be now, but it could also
be something from, like, a hundred years ago or
something..."
"You're right - thanks. That's what I was hoping for - a
timeless look."
"Timeless. That's it."
"They were actually taken, though, about 7 o'clock last
night. While you were at piano lessons." Kasey giggled.
She leaned even harder against Chris, and as soon as he
turned toward her, kissed him quickly on the lips.
(Number six). She loved how he knew her life inside and
out, just like she knew his, thanks to the ever-
continuing phone conversation.
"I wanna hear that band you saw last weekend - the local
band you liked so much."
"Xylex?"
"No, no - are they the electronic type group? No, the
one you said was more twee-"
"Heartysleeve?"
"That's it!"
Chris quickly found a CD from the stack on the stereo.
Soon the basement was filled with piano, thin guitars,
vibraphone, organ, and drums. Sensitive sounding boy-
girl vocals prodded them to dance, goofily, giddily.
They giggled. It wasn't exactly dance music, but they
were having fun. Kasey loved Chris' arm around her,
holding her close. Within minutes, they were both
barefoot, the cold painted concrete against the bottom
of Kasey's feet reminding her of the last time she was
here, the wonderful afternoon.
After a few songs, music turned down to quiet, they were
side by side on the couch, kissing. Kasey quickly lost
count, no longer knowing how many times she'd been
kissed. She was giggling. Chris knew, she thought, that
she was nervous. He waited, just held her hand, smiled
at her, let her giggle. She loved the way he watched her
closely, could read her mood, sense her nervousness, and
just wait for her.
Thinking these thoughts, she slowly relaxed, then
suddenly felt excited. She threw her arms around Chris'
neck, pulled him to her, almost on top of her, and
kissed him hard.
The blissful feel of Chris holding her even more
tightly, lips hard against lips, quickly gave way to
more giggles. This time, he giggled with her.
"I'm sorry, Chris, I can't help it."
"It's OK, Kasey. It's cute. I'm just enjoying being with
you. We've got all afternoon."
And then she felt Chris' hand gently on her side, and
she relaxed, and breathed deep, and smiled. Chris
caressed her cheek, then carefully, gently, removed her
glasses, placing them beside the couch.
A whisper. "I do like those glasses on you, they're
adorable, but Kasey, you've got such beautiful eyes."
Another sigh. Another whisper.
"Kasey, you know, we're only going to do things we both
want to do. I promise. Anytime you don't like something,
or if you're too nervous, or just aren't sure, you just
tell me. You have to."
"I will, if I don't like anything." Kasey spoke,
slightly louder than a whisper. She was thankful for the
reassurances, but she felt bolder than ever. "But don't
hold anything back because I'm thirteen. I'm all yours,
Chris, and you're all mine, and all your secrets are
safe with me, forever."
Wonderful new sensations by the minute. Chris' hand on
her bare knee. His hair in her firm grip. His tongue in
her mouth. Her tongue in his. His hand sliding beneath
her shirt, resting on her belly.
"Chris - you know I've never done this before, right?"
"I wasn't going to ask, but I didn't think so."
"That's OK, right?"
"Of course it is, Kasey."
"I just wanted you to know."
"Are you sure you - "
She cut him off with a reassured smile, then pressed her
mouth against his. Just as she did, they were startled
by shrill chirpy tones bleeping from the floor next to
her shoes. Her cell phone was ringing.
"Crappity Crap!" Grabbing it and looking at the screen
to identify the caller, Kasey swore under her breath.
"My mom."
"Hello?"
"Kasey, it turns out we need to be at grandma's earlier
than we planned. Aunt Callie will be leaving in a couple
of hours. We'll come by the library to pick you up. Just
wait for us outside, by the door."
"Mom! I- I-"
"Now don't backtalk me, young lady. We'll be leaving
here in about five minutes. Be waiting for us."
A disgruntled sigh. "OK, mom."
Kasey flipped the phone shut. "Holy cow, my mom's
leaving to pick me up - she thinks I'm at the library!
Chris, you've gotta get me there RIGHT NOW!"
"Let's go." Chris was already in his flip flops and
picking up his wallet and keys from the desk table.
Kasey almost stepped on her glasses, but luckily just
missed, sliding them on crookedly, running barefoot
carrying her shoes up the stairs.
Kasey slid into the passenger seat of Chris' Volvo just
as he was putting it in reverse, and backing down the
driveway. Kasey nervously slid on her shoes as Chris
sped through the neighborhood, and merged onto the main
road that led around the park Kasey would have walked
through, if she had actually gone to the library. Just
before they pulled into the parking lot, Chris reached
over, held her hand, and gave her a look, one that said
everything would be OK. She didn't know how he was so
certain.
Pulling up quickly beside the front walkway, they both
quickly looked around for any sign of Kasey's family.
There was no one in sight. Kasey let out a sigh of
relief. Chris lifted her hand slightly, and kissed it
gently, surrepititiously, still looking toward the
library door for signs of any onlookers.
"Goodbye, Kasey. I'll talk to you soon."
"Bye. Not soon enough."
A smile and a smile returned, and Kasey was standing on
the front sidewalk, waiting for her stupid parents.
Two:
As Chris was rounding the park after leaving the library
parking lot, he saw Kasey's family driving the other
way. They had made it with about one minute to spare.
Chris still couldn't believe what had happened. His
heart was pounding. He could barely settle down.
Arriving home, he walked through the still-wide-open
front door, walked downstairs, put "Loveless" on the
stereo, and turned up the volume. He lay on the couch,
where, he could hardly believe, he and Kasey had just
been together, kicked off his flip flops, closed his
eyes, and tried to remember just how he ended up at this
place, a place of happiness so intense it terrified him.
Was this the inevitable outcome of "the project?"
From the time he became aware of the opposite sex, the
opposite sex had always seemed to find Chris
irresistible. He was the first of his friends to have a
girlfriend, the first to kiss a girl, the first to get
laid, as they said in those days, the first to have his
choice of companions. The prettiest girl in the room
typically locked in on Chris like a radar. It was easy
to get used to.
He hadn't been especially promiscuous, never cheated on
a girlfriend, or his wife, until now, but he never
lacked in opportunities. Over the course of his
adolescence, it was easy to take this situation for
granted. Chris always had a stunningly beautiful girl on
his arm, and often in his bed.
By adulthood, he had very discriminating taste in women.
Only the most beautiful would do. Ordinary looking
females had slipped off his radar, had become invisible
to him, or worse: he began to find even the slightest
physical imperfection to be grotesque. It became all too
easy to overlook a woman's flirtations because her nose
was a little too large, or her chin too prominent; a
mole or a few freckles could ruin a face for him. Any
hint of a belly, large ankles, or even slightly thick
thighs could render a woman, to Chris' younger self,
hopelessly asexual, out of consideration, even for
fantasy material.
He had become spoiled, and never paid the price. Every
time he passed over a girlfriend opportunity, another
was waiting right around the corner. After a while, he
never even spent any time fantasizing about women - he
had infinite access to the real thing.
By the time he was twenty, the thrill of the chase was
losing its appeal. It was around this time, he
remembered, that he discovered photography, the thrill
of seeing the world through a lens, always alert for a
hidden detail, an unexpected flourish, anything to make
the mundane appear beautiful. He was hooked; it was what
he wanted to do with his life. The field seemed to lead
him to newer friends, newer interests, an appreciation
for parts of life he'd been missing out on. A couple
years later, it led him to a woman he'd never forget.
Leah was brilliant. She was one of the most interesting
people Chris had ever met. She was a painter, an art
student, an opinionated woman who had a fresh take on
everything. Chris loved talking to her, loved her
companionship, admired her. It was a perfect friendship,
until Leah began flirting with him.
The thought of Leah as a lover had never, to that point,
entered Chris' mind. While she was an amazing friend,
Chris was assuredly not attracted to her. "Ugly" was the
nicest description he could muster at the time. Chris
groaned, remembering his attitude toward her looks. Any
other observer might call her plain, maybe eccentric-
cute, perhaps a bit chubby, but certainly not ugly. But
at the time, she simply held no physical attraction for
him. None. The thought of any type of intimacy with Leah
actually turned his stomach.
Soon, he had found a way to solve the problem of the
awkwardness with Leah. He found Jessica. Jessica, the
perfectly beautiful, acceptable girlfriend, was Chris'
excuse. "I have a girlfriend," he'd let slip to Leah one
day, and soon, her flirtations stopped. Not long after,
Jessica was pregnant.
Quickly married at 23, Chris found his life suddenly
following the path of Jessica's plans. A steady job,
which gradually felt like it was sucking the life out of
him. A move to the suburbs. Gradually losing contact
with his friends, with all of the interesting people he
knew.
It wasn't all horrible. Chris had found himself in a
nice house, which he could now afford, even if it was
much farther from the downtown scene that he loved. He
had a wonderful daughter, whom he loved, although lately
she was, maddeningly, becoming more like her mother
every day. And there was Jessica. While they never got
along like they had both hoped on their quickly arranged
wedding day, Chris had at least tried to love her. He
had tried his best, sometimes for the sake of their
daughter, sometimes for his sanity, sometimes to keep up
appearances, but he had honestly tried.
Nevertheless, as their differences in personality, in
outlook, in interests, in mostly everything became more
obvious, day after day, year after year, the marriage
became more and more miserable. At least, Chris had
thought many times, Jess is still beautiful, and still
good in bed. At times, the thought had kept him sane.
Even now, Chris thought, he was ashamed at how
dismissive he had been of less than perfect women, how
arrogant he had been. It was an attitude that lasted
until just a few years prior, until "the project."
Chris conceived of the project on a particularly
nostalgic rainy afternoon, daydreaming about his old
friends he hadn't seen in years, when he thought of
Leah. He was suddenly gripped by an overwhelming urge to
see her, to talk to her, just to be with her. The
longing for her companionship struck him like a fist to
the gut. He could barely remember what she looked like,
it had been so long. He no longer even knew where she
lived, or what she was doing. He missed her.
And he felt a wave of regret. Chris had passed on the
opportunity for a romantic relationship with a woman he
might have been happy with, a woman he might have loved,
because of his unwillingness to even try to find her
pretty. His own ridiculous standards of beauty had
damned him to a life of misery.
But could attractions be changed? Could the kind of
woman a man likes be something he can consciously alter?
Chris didn't know, but he realized he might be able to
find out. It was a perfect time to try. Chris was, to be
honest, bored, even with Jessica, even with her perfect
body. He rarely even fantasized about other women
anymore. Something was missing. He had decided, in that
moment of overpowering nostalgia bordering on
depression, to conduct an experiment.
One by one, Chris would identify a flaw, a quirk, any
unique item that turned him off in a woman, and try to
overcome it. The experiment would be limited strictly to
the realm of attraction and fantasy - he wasn't
proposing to actually cheat on his wife. He just wanted
to discover if he could, by actively trying, become
attracted to someone that he initially found repulsive.
The idea for the first phase came to him instantly:
braces. Chris had always been turned off, completely, by
the sight of braces on a girl's, or woman's, teeth. He
had once, as a teen, found an excuse to break up with a
girl a few weeks after she had been fitted with the
contraptions. The metallic look was, to him, hideous.
Luckily, a new woman had started working in Chris'
office. Nicole was a very pretty woman, mid-20s,
friendly, with a smile that he would have called nice if
it were not for the braces that ruined it. She was the
perfect subject with which to begin.
In spare moments, Chris gradually began fantasizing
about Nicole, her sexy body, her voice, what she might
be like in bed, and then, in the midst of the fantasy,
visualizing that mouth. At first, it completely threw
him, ruining the fantasy. Still, Chris persisted. Within
a week, the thought of her braces didn't bother him
nearly as much; he didn't like them, to be sure, but he
could still have an enjoyable fantasy, without the
thought of Nicole's metal-mouth ruining it.
A couple weeks later, fantasizing every day, growing
more and more infatuated with Nicole, Chris realized
that he was beginning to actually like the braces.
Whenever he saw her at work, Chris tried to watch her
smile, admiring the look of her teeth. In his dreams, he
imagined kissing her, running his tongue over her teeth,
feeling those braces. They were becoming cute.
It wasn't long before Chris was noticing that, on the
occasions when he'd see a woman with braces, he always
found her attractive. He began searching on the internet
for pictures of women wearing braces, fantasizing about
them as well. He started imagining how Jess would look
with braces. It was almost starting to become a fetish.
Chris was astounded. In less than a couple of months, an
appearance that he had found absolutely horrid was now
becoming not only sexy, but something of an obsession.
It was definitely time to move to the next phase of the
experiment.
The next phase was freckles. Chris had always thought a
very small number of freckles on a woman's face was
cute, but even slightly too many were downright ugly.
Gradually picking faces out of the crowd, random women
he came across who were very pretty, except for
excessive freckles, Chris began his fantasies. A cashier
at Macy's. A teller at the bank. A random woman he saw
in traffic. The same pattern repeated itself - within a
month, this time, freckles were becoming one of Chris'
favorite features. Again searching the web, he found
women with more and more freckles, up to the verge of a
diagnosable dermatological condition. Not all, but most,
he found at least somewhat sexy.
Over the next year, Chris stepped through his mental
checklist. Women with bad haircuts. Women with funny-
shaped lips. Women with very small breasts. Women with
annoying voices. Step by step, he worked his way to the
big one. Then one day, nervously, he began searching for
the right woman to use in his next fantasies - a woman
who was overweight.
He knew exactly with whom he had to start. Amber lived
down the street. She and her husband had moved into the
neighborhood recently, a young couple hoping to start a
family soon. Amber was cute. She was adorable, actually,
with one exception: she was big. Not obese, not even
fat, really, but just slightly chubby. Her large butt,
slightly thick limbs, and little bit of extra padding
around the waist were what separated her from sexy.
Chris started out just watching her, whenever he had the
chance. He studied her face, noticing little features he
hadn't previously. Soon, he started fantasizing, slowly
at first. The entire first month he only fantasized
about kissing. In his mind, he and Amber made out
nightly, like junior high kids, just kissing, caressing,
a little tongue in each other's mouth, a few little
hickeys. It was a sexy thought. As soon as Chris
imagined the rest of Amber, however, the magic faded.
The thought of his hand on her little roll of belly, or
her overly large, round butt, and his erection
disappeared like mist. Yet he kept trying.
A month later, he could fathom fantasizing about her
legs, thick as they were. The thought of his hand on the
back of her thigh was nice. He could even get used to
the idea of her arms around him, squeezing him close,
while they kissed. Nevertheless, a single thought of
that gut, or that ass, and the fantasy was over.
This limit dogged Chris for several months, until one
chance encounter changed his perspective. Nothing of
note had actually happened; Chris merely said hi to
Amber one day on the sidewalk outside his house, and she
smiled back, possibly flirtatiously. She looked down,
and smiled a little, brushing her hair back from her
face, and in that instant, she was beautiful. All of her
was beautiful.
The way she looked down while smiling, her little half
chuckle, the way her face complemented her larger body,
her softer features, it was irresistible. Suddenly,
Chris wanted her, that instant, exactly as she was.
Minutes later, inside the house, alone, Chris
masturbated, imagining Amber, her chubby belly, her big
butt, her cute, soft smile, thick legs, all of her,
swearing she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever
seen. It was amazing how one single glance, one instance
of looking at someone the right way could change his
entire outlook.
Chris became obsessed with Amber, too, and, following
the previous patterns, soon sought out other chubby
women to use in his fantasy life. He was amazed at how
beautiful some of them were. He learned how certain
facial features looked so much better on heavier women
that on skinnier women, and vice versa. He learned to
enjoy imagining the feel of a well rounded buttock, and
started actually wishing Jessica would put on a little
weight.
He had changed, no doubt, discovering a world full of
beautiful women that had been invisible to him before.
He was ready to declare his experiment a success,
wondering what it would mean for him, other than sating
his own curiosity, what it would gain him in the end.
Then he met Kasey.
That one afternoon, happening upon Kasey in his
basement, had hit him out of the blue like a bolt of
lightning, forever changing his life. He could still
remember every detail of that day: walking down the
stairs, noticing someone was there, noticing that it was
that one neighborhood girl (was her name Casey?), and
being suddenly overwhelmed by just how beautiful she
was, just watching her, as she browsed through his
books, feeling like an intruder even though he was in
his own house and she was the guest, until they noticed
each other, and talked, and Chris simultaneously
impressed at the things she had read, and listened to,
and observed, her voracious cultural appetite, and
embarrassed that, to be honest, he was crushing on a
preteen girl, and nervous, like a schoolboy, wishing
only one thing: I hope she likes me.
But my god, she was beautiful, Chris thought. Soft brown
hair obscuring part of her face as she looked down,
swaying slightly, intently looking through the book,
standing one bare foot half on top of the other, bare
legs, freckled skin, barrettes (Chris never knew
barrettes could be so sexy), her little look of surprise
as she was discovered. She was a vision.
Chris had felt guilty every time he picked up the phone,
every time they talked at a neighborhood gathering,
every time they flirted, every time he found himself
dreaming of her, especially early on, after he found out
she was barely twelve. But he found he could talk to her
so much easier than anyone else, certainly more than
anyone in the neighborhood, or at work, or in his own
house. She was like his little soul mate, which made it
so frustrating that she was so young, slightly younger
even than his own daughter.
He couldn't stop dreaming about kissing those young
lips, running his hand through that beautiful brown
hair, looking into those soft eyes, counting each of the
countless freckles on her face, becoming lost in Kasey.
How had he seen this little girl so many times and not
really seen her? She was perfect, and Chris was quickly
falling in love.
Yet the guilt remained. Chris tried, and mostly
succeeded, in keeping his fantasies to the realm of
kissing and caressing. He was aching to fantasize about
more, but feared what would happen. Was he becoming a
child molester? At that time, the girl wasn't even a
teenager yet.
But the ache, my God, the ache. He wanted her so bad,
and not just for how beautiful she was. She was
intelligent, razor sharp, he discovered better with each
phone conversation. She thought for herself. She was
curious about the world around her. She realized,
earlier than most, that the suburban American dream in
which they both lived was a sham. Every time he picked
up the phone, dialing the digits to her house, he felt
himself becoming more entangled in a plot that could not
end well, falling more and more in love with the girl he
couldn't have.
What did she think of him? Was she just humoring his
crush, being nice? She certainly called on her own
plenty of times, though that didn't stop him from
feeling like a stalker every time he drove by her house
to see if her parents' cars were there before calling.
How could a man his age be even remotely attractive to
such a little girl? Did she see him as a creepy old man?
WAS he a creepy old man?
Then the first kiss, which reassured him of so much, and
plunged him even further into turmoil. Chris had no
intention of ever acting on his feelings, but that
afternoon, Kasey sitting alone at the bottom of those
steps, looking ever so beautiful, ever so kissable, she
overthrew every defense he had, and, for the first time
since his wedding day, he quickly pocketed his ring,
walked down the steps, and, before the courage could
leave him, kissed her.
That smile! That beautiful smile that reassured him that
she liked him too, that she was ecstatic, and yet, the
sudden swirl of thoughts that engulfed him: What now?
Where can this possibly lead? How in the world can this
work? Am I going to jail? It was torture.
Each time he and Kasey had a chance to kiss, however,
was wonderful. Kasey's lips were heaven, even if the
price of enjoying it was constant worry of falling into
hell.
And what of today? Chris had almost not been able to
breathe after he had suggested that Kasey come visit
him, couldn't believe it that she did. Before the phone
rang, Chris had every intention of making love to his
little girlfriend, and discovered that she was willing,
too. Where was this going? Chris tried to catch his
breath, as the music surrounded him, enveloped him, and
still he tried to stop shaking.
Three:
Kasey squirmed. The back seat of the car was no place
for her, not in her present condition. Simultaneously
thrilled at what had just almost happened, and agitated
at how it had been interrupted, she was a powder keg of
conflicting emotions, ready to explode. She watched her
dad drive and listened, angrily, as her mom talked to
him about the upcoming family schedule, deciding for
Kasey what she'd be doing and when. And at the moment,
all Kasey wanted to do was be with Chris.
She could still almost feel his hand on her cheek, on
her knee, on her stomach, his lips on her lips. She
touched the window, feeling its cool, smooth, surface,
watching rows of corn, rows of soybeans, more rows of
corn pass her by. She rubbed one bare foot against the
other, anxiously. She slid side to side in her seat. She
took a deep breath.
The day had sent her senses into a sort of overdrive
feedback loop. Everything she touched felt super
intense, every feeling magnified by a thousand, yet she
needed to touch more, needed to feel more. She needed
Chris. Making sure that neither of her parents were
looking into the back seat, she touched herself between
her legs, through her shorts.
Kasey flipped her cell phone open, then closed. Then
open, then closed. Looking at the time, her heart sank
when she realized she had three more hours to spend
right here, in this seat, ready to overheat. She played
with her phone, dialing Chris' phone number, letting her
thumb rest on the "TALK" button, rubbing it, feeling the
edge of the key against her thumb, daring herself to
push it before hitting "END," and snapping the phone
shut. She opened and closed the phone over and over
until her mom told her to stop.
She wished her mom had thought to pack her even a single
book to read. If Kasey had known they were going to
leave early, she would have already packed, and would
never have let this happen; instead, she would be
bookless for a whole day and a half. Kasey longed for a
book to dive into, to clear her mind, help her drift
away from the intensity of the here and now, although
she wondered if any book would be a match for the
particular here and now she was living through. She
envied her little brother, sleeping innocently in the
other seat. Mostly, she wanted Chris.
Kasey ran her hands over her thighs, over her calves,
back over her thighs, and touched herself again. She ran
her tongue over her teeth, first on the top, then on the
bottom, thinking that Chris' tongue had been right here,
inside her mouth, just minutes before, and wishing that
it were there still. She bit her lip, rolling the flesh
between her teeth, and then sighed.
"Mom, did you pack my iPod?"
"Yes, Kasey, but it's in your bag, in the trunk."
Kasey almost growled. The lamely unimaginative adult
contemporary station her parents were listening to was
not helping her mood. She swallowed to stifle a scream,
then started playing with her phone once again, trying
to put this state into words, commit them to memory,
words to be entered into her journal once she was home,
tomorrow night. But words weren't coming easily. Kasey
closed her eyes, and tried to imagine she was back at
Chris' house, on the couch in his basement, in his arms.
By evening, she had settled down somewhat, although
bedtime ramped her emotions into overdrive once again.
Lying on the couch in her grandmother's living room, she
couldn't help wishing she were still on that other
couch, with Chris. Slipping her headphones over her
ears, she found her playlist of recently discovered
bands, all of which she had learned of from Chris. She
listened and dreamed, trying to recall every feeling,
all of the new sensations she had experienced that
afternoon: the lean, muscular weight of his body on her;
the feeling of being totally surrounded in his arms; his
tender, almost shy kisses. Kasey smiled.
She let her hand slip below the waistband of her
pajamas, and into her panties. She caressed herself the
way she hoped Chris would, soon. The idea of it, the
very possibility of it, sent shivers through her whole
body. She spread her lips and sighed, recalling one of
her worries. Earlier in the afternoon, lying beneath
Chris, she had briefly felt a bulge beneath his jeans,
as it brushed against her leg. It was larger than she
had imagined it would be. Feeling herself, spreading
herself, Kasey wondered how it would possibly fit.
She knew it would hurt the first time. It wasn't
something that worried her, not much anyway, since
everyone has a first time sometime, but she thought
about it sometimes, wondering just how bad it would be.
Nevertheless, it didn't reduce her desire for Chris one
bit. She wanted him, and wanted him now. She thought of
the bulge again, excited and flattered, still somewhat
amazed that she was the reason for it, that she was able
to have that effect on a grown man, a very sexy,
desirable man, a catch in any sense of the word. "Chris
could have had any woman in the neighborhood," Kasey
thought, "but he wants me. Nerdy little Kasey. He wants
ME!"
Kasey smiled as she continued to rub herself, dream of
Chris, and moan, stifling a scream as she felt herself
explode in a burst of ecstasy. Finally, Kasey relaxed.
Chris' music still played in her ears as she fell
asleep.
Four:
If Chris knew that Jessica was going to call Kasey's mom
on their way home from the grandparental trip, and
invite them to dinner, he would have been better
prepared.
Instead, he walked through the door Sunday evening,
following a drive to the record store and a long run, to
see Kasey standing within ten feet of Jessica. The sight
threw him, made him lose his breath, worried, wondering
if he'd been caught, until he saw the rest of both of
their families casually talking and laughing, and
realized this must be a social visit. He relaxed, then
reminded himself to be careful; he was almost shocked
that his first instinct was to walk toward Kasey, almost
reaching for her, before he could catch himself.
This act set the tone for the night. A brief, chaste hug
for Jessica. Chris dared not kiss her in front of Kasey.
He just couldn't do that to the girl. A warm glance at
his love, inconspicuous he hoped, then handshakes and
greetings all around. A genuine hug for Sara.
Chris was new to negotiating the logistics of an affair.
He enjoyed exchanging quick, knowing glances across the
table with Kasey, each time followed by a piercing fear,
looking toward his wife, looking toward, my god, he'd
never thought of it this way before, the parents of his
thirteen year old girlfriend, what did they know about
all of this?
Another suspicion shook Chris: why had his wife suddenly
called this neighbor family with a dinner invitation,
without telling him? Did she suspect something? And
Kasey, what did she think about their experience in his
basement, now that she'd had over a day to think about
it, let the implications sink in? Of course she wasn't
giving anything away, couldn't if she'd wanted to, but
Chris wished he'd at least had a chance to talk to her
on the phone before seeing her in this situation. He was
a nervous wreck.
The night continued in this manner through dinner and
desert, Chris trying his best to hold up his end of the
conversation. It wasn't easy. After dark, everyone went
outside, settling on the back yard patio around the fire
pit. He almost flinched when Jessica tapped him on the
shoulder.
"Honey, would you go get my jacket? It's in our room, on
the dresser."
"Sure. Be right back!"
On his way in the house, thankful for a moment alone, he
was even more thankful to hear Kasey making a bathroom
excuse.
"Be right back. Gotta go!"
Chris waited on the bottom step for Kasey to pass by,
smiled at her wordlessly, and was relieved as she melted
into his arms.
"Oh Chris. Oh, Chris. I missed you so much since
yesterday, I couldn't stand it."
"Kasey..." Chris couldn't say much else, just yet. He
held her, kissed her, trying not to let too much time
slip by, before arousing suspicion. He breathed in her
scent, kissed her again. She spun around in his arms,
and he cuddled against her from behind. "I couldn't
think about anything except you, since you had to leave,
Kasey."
"Me neither. I've been a total disaster, Chris."
"A beautiful disaster."
"Stop it!" She slapped his arm, playfully. Chris relaxed
even more, felt more at ease, more at home than ever,
kissed Kasey's cheek from behind, kissed it again,
holding her hair back from her neck. He whispered in her
ear.
"I love you, Kasey."
Kasey seemed to almost shiver in his arms, smiling,
spinning around again to face him.
"Oh, Chris, I love you, too. I love you love you LOVE
you!"
Chris didn't want to let go, suspected Kasey didn't
either. He whispered again. "We'd better not get
caught."
"Nope. Better go." Kasey pecked him quickly on the lips,
and sashayed off toward the bathroom. Chris floated up
the stairs to retrieve his wife's jacket, love struck.
Five:
Thursday morning. 7:24 AM. Kasey walked around the
corner from her house, on the way to the bus stop,
slowing suddenly, as soon as she was out of view of her
mom.
She had a six minute window in which to make the phone
call. She needed to be at the bus stop by 7:30 to be
sure she didn't get left behind, but if she called too
soon, there would be a chance Chris hadn't left the
house yet, a risk she couldn't take. She looked at the
time on her phone again. Still 7:24.
Kasey shuffled along slowly, heavy backpack slung over
her shoulder. Even after everything that happened on
Saturday, she couldn't believe what she was doing. 7:25.
Should she go ahead and call? Maybe not just yet.
She looked around, hoping Madison and Ethan had already
left their house, wouldn't wonder why she was almost
standing still here. They were probably already at the
bus stop.
7:26. Screw it. Just call. She dialed the number
quickly, hit TALK.
"Hello?"
"Chris, did you know we're off school tomorrow Kyle's
gonna be staying with our cousins my mom my dad both at
work just me at the house suddenly my mom decides I'm
old enough to be home alone all day so anyway is it too
late for you to take off work tomorrow if you get what
I'm saying can you?"
"Kasey?"
"Yes, Chris, can you take off work? Quick!"
"Yes! Yes, I think so! I'll find out today, for sure,
first thing. Home by yourself tomorrow?"
"Yes! I just found out! I gotta catch this bus, though,
in like two minutes, so like can you call me tonight?"
"Between 8:30 and 9:45, right?"
"No, Kyle doesn't have practice, so it will have to be
between 8:30 and 9."
"Got it. Talk to you then. Love you."
"Love you!"
Kasey smiled as she ran, sprinted toward the bus stop.
She couldn't believe she'd done it, arranged it,
couldn't believe she could casually end a conversation
with this wonderful man with yet another declaration of
love, couldn't believe that he had told her what she'd
been hoping to hear for so long, could tell him what
she'd known for so long now, that she loved him, loved
him more than she could ever put into words, a love that
felt like it could overcome even everything that stood
between them, parents and spouses and age differences
and legal difficulties and nosy neighbors and the whole
idiot world. The simple fact of their love made Kasey's
heart swell, and she knew, just knew, that everything
would be OK.
She reached the corner just as the bus pulled up, and
stepped onto it right behind Sara, who was probably
wondering why she was smiling.
Six:
Chris left the house Friday morning, drove toward work,
made sure he was a few miles past the neighborhood
before turning around and driving straight back, almost
toward his own house, but not quite. He made sure to
drive around to a parallel street, down a side street
toward a little strip mall at which Jessica wouldn't be
caught dead, and parked there, in the most hidden spot
he could find. Then he walked.
He kept his eyes open for neighbors that he knew. No one
was out. He had his excuses lined up, though, just in
case.
Fortunately, he didn't need any. He jogged, unseen,
right up to Kasey's front door. Kasey was waiting, and
opened the door for him as soon as he reached it. He
essentially jogged straight into Kasey's arms.
He spun her around as she smiled and laughed, and fell
into him, and they kissed, kissed deeply, tenderly.
Kasey's soft lips felt wonderful as ever, and her soft
body felt inviting beneath the cotton fabric of her
pajamas, yellow and light blue, pajama pants and
separate top, Kasey beautiful as ever in bare feet, on
tiptoes, kissing him.
"Good morning, love." Kasey beamed, seemed to savor the
words in her mouth.
"Good morning!"
"I'm making breakfast for us."
"That sounds wonderful."
He followed Kasey into the kitchen, where she served him
too-weak coffee and served herself milk. She opened the
waffle iron, and removed a just-made waffle, poured mix
for another one. She walked toward Chris, now seated,
leaned against him, hands on his knees, leaning over,
into him, kissing him, smiling, excited.
"You're wearing a tie!"
"I have to play the part. Every single day."
"You're a good actor."
"Apparently."
"Take that ridiculous thing off!" Kasey was already
loosening the knot, pulling the fabric through his
collar, draping it over her neck, trying to tie it
around herself over her PJ's, giving up and just sort of
looping it, laughing. She walked to the stove and
flipped the sausage.
In a few minutes, they were eating undercooked waffles,
and overcooked sausage. It was delicious nevertheless,
Chris thought, a meal cooked just for him by a girl who
loved him. Kasey was brilliant, and talented, but had
little experience in the kitchen. Chris could not have
cared less.
As he finished his coffee, Kasey sat on Chris' lap,
finished the last of his waffle for him, squirmed. He
kissed her.
"I couldn't believe you called yesterday. It was an
amazing surprise."
"I'm glad you came." She smiled, nervously. Chris was
excited, but nervous, too. He felt like a kid, like he'd
never been in this situation before, a virgin. In his
empathy with Kasey, he was seeing sex through her eyes,
something exciting but mysterious, a great unknown. All
of Chris' previous experience had left him totally
unprepared for this.
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."
They sat there for a few minutes, procrastinating,
putting off for a little longer whatever may happen,
just cuddling. After a few minutes, Kasey gave him a
mischievous smile, turned herself around on his lap,
facing him and straddling him, and leaned in for a kiss.
They kissed deeply, tongues instantly in each other's
mouths, hungrily devouring. Chris caressed her cheek
with one hand, her back with the other, as she melted
into him. They sighed. Kasey's hands were on his
shoulders, and she squirmed into his lap, no doubt
feeling his quickly growing erection. She threw her arms
completely around Chris' neck, holding him close,
caressing the back of his neck with both hands.
Kasey's kisses were intoxicating to Chris. Her lips were
soft; her kisses, sometimes, were not. Rather, they were
exploratory, clumsy, somewhat aggressive. She pressed
herself tightly against his mouth. Her tongue flicked in
and out of his mouth quickly. She had said, during their
last aborted encounter, that she'd never done this
before. At the time, Chris had assumed she meant sex.
Now, he was more certain, she was also referring to
making out. Her kisses were raw, unpracticed affection,
naked emotion, and, he thought, absolutely beautiful. He
playfully removed his tie from around Kasey's neck, set
it aside; he took off her glasses and set them on the
table carefully, kissing her all the while.
Soon Kasey paused and smiled at him, climbed off, took
his hand.
"Wanna go in there?" Her voice was soft, almost shaky.
She led him down the hall, into the second room on the
right, her bedroom.
They stood on an oval yellow rug, in the center of the
room, over beige carpet. Kasey kissed him again, began
unbuttoning his dress shirt.
"Chris, seriously, these clothes!"
He caressed her cheek, smiled warmly, looked around. Her
room was painted in shades of yellow and pink, a high
twin bed in the corner covered with a yellow bedspread.
Her white desk was piled with books, and more books were
piled beside her bed. Clothes were sort of stuffed into
a dresser; the room looked as if it were usually messy,
but had been quickly cleaned. Three corkboards held
photos of Kasey and her friends. A few stuffed animals
graced a high shelf. The room was in a transitional
stage, Chris thought: a teenage room, still with many
traces of childhood. Light poured in through a wide
window. Chris felt Kasey's hands caress his chest. He
realized his shirt was gone.
Kicking off his shoes, he began to kiss Kasey, holding
her closer, hinting. She giggled. He smiled.
"Take off your socks, too, silly boy."
Chris tried to pull each leg up, one at a time, and
remove his socks while leaning on Kasey for balance. A
couple times, he almost fell, as they both laughed.
Finally, barefoot, he caressed Kasey's cheek, leaned
into her adorable smiling face for a kiss. She placed
her left foot on top of his right, leaned fully against
him.
Chris slowly kissed Kasey toward the bed walking her
backwards. He lifted her onto it, climbed up after her,
rolled her onto her back, leaned over her, and kissed
her deeply, caressing her side. She felt wonderful to
him, soft, perfect. His hand worked its way below her
pajama top, felt her side, felt her belly, caressing it,
slightly higher each time, up over the swell of her
chubby tummy, so... so... so... close to those little
boobs, then back down over her perfectly plump belly to
the waist of her pj bottoms, then back again, as Kasey
closed her eyes and sighed.
"You're so beautiful."
She smiled, and reached for his face, pulling it toward
her. She kissed him, whispered in his ear.
"You can take off my shirt. I know you want to."
Chris smiled, nervous. He took a deep breath. He
fingered the hem of her jammie-shirt, feeling the yellow
cotton, then slowly began lifting it upward, exposing
Kasey's soft, pale belly, so beautiful, cute, deep belly
button, a little mole near her right side, then
continued to lift, as Kasey sat up slightly, raised her
arms like a small child, and Chris quickly pulled the
shirt up and over her arms, excited to get a glimpse for
the first time of those little breasts.
Kasey fell back onto the bed, arms splayed to her sides.
The first thing Chris noticed was birthmarks. Two long
spots just below her little breasts, dark brown,
surprising him. Kasey was watching him intently, reading
his face. She pointed to one of them.
"Guess you didn't expect these, huh?"
"No. But it doesn't matter. You're beautiful, Kasey, so
very, very beautiful."
"They don't bother you? For real?"
"No. I mean, I was surprised, but..."
"But?"
"But they're unique. Like you. They're actually kind of
cute. You know, I'm positive I can get to really like
these." Chris smiled warmly. "Of course, I'll need to
see them on a regular basis..."
Kasey smiled, swatted at his chest playfully. Chris
leaned down and kissed one of the spots very, very
tenderly, kissing along the entire length of it. Kasey
sighed deeply.
Chris kissed back over the length of the first spot,
then started kissing the second spot, this one closer to
her little breasts. She shivered, held the back of his
head. Chris kissed over each spot once more, then twice
more, the last time letting his hand wander up and over,
until he was caressing the girl's right breast. She let
out a little gasp. He became even more excited.
Chris turned his attention fully to Kasey's breasts.
Cupping both easily in one hand each, he felt them,
leaned down, kissed the right one. They were smaller
than he had expected. To be honest, he had no idea what
to expect. Kasey didn't wear revealing clothing,
although the few times he thought he'd caught a glimpse
of her shape beneath a shirt had led him to expect more.
He suspected most of what he had seen was bra padding.
He wasn't disappointed. They were far cuter than he had
ever imagined possible. He hadn't had any way to predict
what developing breasts might actually look like, but
these were super cute, becoming sexier by the second.
Chris kissed all over the little cone shape of Kasey's
right breast as she sighed, held his head in her hand,
caressed his neck. He liked the way he could take the
entire breast into his mouth at once, lips in an O shape
flat on Kasey's chest, sucking it gently into him,
letting it pop out, sucking her little nipple, doing it
again. Oh, God, this was sexy. He moved his gaze to her
left breast, realizing it was slightly smaller than the
right one, but every bit as sexy. He kissed the little
bud, sucked on it, all the while caressing the other, as
Kasey sighed again. She rolled to her side, and he
looked up to her face, kissed her lips deeply.
"You like them."
"I do. They're so perfect."
"Not too little?"
"No. They're so beautiful, Kasey. God, you're sexy."
Kasey laughed again, a nervous giggle. She ran her hands
over Chris' chest, through his sparse chest hair, giving
a pinch of it a little tug.
"I forgot you'd have hair here." She pulled on another
spot, ran her palms flat over the sparse brown hairs.
"Is it too much? I could shave it." A whisper.
"No. I kinda like it." Another deep kiss. Kasey's hands
worked their way over Chris' belly, following the line
of hair through his belly button, to the button of his
pants. She fingered the button beneath his belt, playing
with it suggestively, tilting her head, looking into
Chris' eyes, as if waiting for permission.
"Go ahead, Kasey. I'm all yours."
She smiled, saucily, then laughed, hair falling over her
eyes. She brushed it away, then grabbed the button
again. Chris lay on his back, looking up at the girl's
beautiful face as she leaned over him, turning her
attention to his belt buckle, rocking slightly side to
side as she unbuckled. He smiled as he watched her,
beautiful face, hair falling over her cheek, sweet
exposed shoulders, cute little bare boobs, lovely belly.
She was gorgeous. Having unbuckled his belt, Kasey again
fingered the button of his pants, waiting, taking a
quick, sharp breath, then unbuttoning, and slowly
unzipping Chris' pants, pulling them down over his hips,
revealing black boxer shorts.
"Wait a minute, Kasey."
Before his pants could fall below his knees, Chris
reached into one pocket, removed a condom in its
wrapper. Quickly reaching into the other pocket, he
removed a small tube labeled "K-Y". Kasey looked at him
with a funny smile. Chris set the packet and tube on the
nightstand.
"K-Y? Do we need that?"
"It'll help. Believe me."
Chris shifted his weight to help her slide the pants
down, past his knees, kicked them off. Kasey let her
hand lay atop his hip, caressed his butt through the
boxers for a brief minute, caressed his front side,
briefly let her hand glide over his throbbing erection.
"Chris, my, my, my..." A mischievous smile.
"Want a closer look?"
Kasey nodded her head, smiled and buried her face in his
chest in what seemed, to Chris, to be embarrassment. She
took a deep breath, exhaled, and looked him straight in
the eyes.
"Are you sure, Kasey."
She gave a serious, slow nod of her head.
"Here goes."
Chris slid his boxers down in a single motion. Kasey
sort of stared, mesmerized, a little smile on her face.
Chris wondered what she was thinking, hoping she wasn't
having second thoughts, promising himself to watch her
carefully, ready to slow things down if needed.
Kasey simply let her hand again rest on his thigh, now
bare, then again leaned over him. She let her hand run
through his thick pubic hair, her thumb slightly grazing
his cock as she did so, letting a little "oops" escape
her lips with a mischievous smile. With her other hand,
she grabbed both his balls gently, rolling them around,
caressing them, whispering softly.
"Is that nice, Chris? You like that, don't you? Mmmmmm,
I think you do..."
Chris desperately wanted Kasey's hand just a little
higher, on his cock, but he just murmured his assent. He
didn't think Kasey realized what a tease this was; she
seemed to honestly think this was as pleasurable as
stroking his cock, but he didn't really want to set her
straight. It was too cute, and the cuteness was turning
him on, even more.
His erection continued to throb.
Another saucy smile. "I thought so."
"Mmmm Kasey. That's nice."
"Oh it is?" Teasing, cute.
"Oh, yes. Yesyesyes..." Chris was almost bucking trying
to stay still; he needed his cock in contact with some
part of Kasey, ANY part of Kasey. He took a deep breath,
let it out slowly. She just smiled, continuing to gently
roll his testes in her hand, then just held them,
stroking one, then the other, softly, with her thumb. He
took another big breath, watched her cute little hand,
short nails, no nail polish, a kid hand, wanted it a
little higher so badly.
"Wow. You DO like this. Hmmmm." A big smile.
"Oh, yeah." Chris was panting. He couldn't take it.
"Only thing better would be your hand just a little, you
know, higher."
"Really? Hmmmmmm...." Kasey pretended to think this
over, cutely. "OK."
Kasey's hand moved up slightly, holding Chris' cock,
just as he was on the verge of almost thrashing up and
down on the bed. She didn't stroke, just held it lightly
in her hand, then took a single finger and slowly ran it
up and down the underside of his erection, light touch,
driving him even more insane.
"Oh, God, Kasey, WOW!"
Kasey removed her hands, leaned into Chris' chest,
kissed him on the lips. Chris sighed, still throbbing,
but fine for the moment. He fingered the drawstring of
Kasey's pajama bottoms, hinting.
"My turn?" Kasey whispered this into Chris' ear. Was she
still nervous? Chris thought so, at least a little.
"Is that OK?"
"Mmmm Hmmmm. Yes. I want you to, Chris, for real." She
sighed.
Chris untied the drawstring bow, slowly and gently
pulled down the yellow cotton of Kasey's jammie-bottoms,
exposing cute orange and yellow striped panties,
revealing Kasey's sexy legs, pale, a little thick,
pajamas riding over cute knees, calves, down past
perfect little feet.
Chris threw the pants aside, held Kasey in his arms,
kissed her, tongues dancing together, as he enjoyed the
feel of one hand on Kasey's bare back, the other on her
thigh, the hand on her back riding down to caress her
beautiful bottom through her tween style panties. He
loved the feel of Kasey's belly pushing into him, her
little boobs teasing his chest, nipples brushing him
occasionally.
Chris looked into Kasey's face, searching for
reassurance, for permission. She smiled at him
knowingly, nodded her head quickly, with a cute smile.
Chris breathed deeply.
He took the sides of her panties gently in his hands,
pulled them down over her hips, the garment's crotch
peeling from her pussy, then moving down over those same
beautiful thighs, knees, calves, feet. He held them over
the edge of the bed, let them drop.
Kasey, naked, sighed deeply, swallowed, sighed again.
Chris looked longingly over his little love. She was
magnificent, beautiful, breathtaking. He slowly smiled,
taking in the sight.
Again, Chris let his hand rest on her butt, now bare,
caressed it, skin so wonderfully soft, softer than
anything ever; It was large, but cute, perfectly smooth,
perfectly round. It was, he thought, squishier than any
butt he'd ever felt, had a little more give, but it felt
surprisingly good. It was certainly softer than the only
other butt he'd felt the last fourteen years.
Chris immediately castigated himself for the idea,
reminded himself not to bring any further thoughts of
that woman, his wife, into this act, this beautiful
lovemaking, that belonged only to Kasey and to him. He
wanted only Kasey, nothing but Kasey. Kasey's ass - the
soft feeling was nice, surprisingly nice. He pressed on
it, it sort of bounced back to shape, and what a
wonderful shape, he thought. Kasey smiled at him, legs
moving, knees going in and out nervously.
"You like my butt!"
"It's a perfect butt, Kasey." She smiled, melted even
further into him.
Chris let his hand slide around to Kasey's belly, then
downward, lingering in the sparse, fine little pubic
hair on her mound. It was just enough hair to be cute.
Kasey took a deep breath. Chris leaned over her face as
she held her breath. He whispered to her.
"You OK?"
"Yeah."
"Nervous?"
"A lot."
"Me, too."
"Really?"
"Uh Huh. Need to slow down, wait a while?"
"No. Nuh-uh. I really do want this, Chris."
"Me too."
A smile and a kiss. Chris' hand slid down farther,
caressing Kasey's little pussy lips, as she let out a
loud moaning sigh. He spread the lips slightly, rubbed
her gently with his middle finger, slowly rubbing
forward, then back, then rubbing in a tiny little
circle. He cupped her entire pussy in his hand, pressing
with one finger then the next and the next, quickly
alternating fingers back and forth across his hand,
across her pussy. Again, his middle finger slipped into
her pussy lips, gave her long, slow, massaging strokes.
found her little clit, brushed it slightly, caressed
with more long, slow, strokes, little circles, and more
strokes.
Kasey was biting her lower lip, hard, looking straight
up at the ceiling. Chris leaned in again.
"OK?"
"Yeah. Don't stop."
Chris continued to caress Kasey, slightly harder,
slightly faster, then slower, then faster again, and a
minute later, suddenly, she seemed to relax with a loud
moan that almost scared Chris. She writhed side to side,
exhaling hard, closing her legs tightly around Chris'
hand, squeezing, letting out another gasp, spreading her
legs again, then squeezing tight, all of a sudden
seeming to unabashedly enjoy his attentions. He paused
slightly, cupping her pussy in his palm, as Kasey raised
her head, looked at him.
"Oh, wow, Chris. WOW!"
"Want more?"
"Yes!"
Chris continued to caress the girl, his love, letting
her sighs and moans guide him, until he leaned in with
his mouth, ready to kiss and lick her to ecstasy. As
soon as he planted a first little kiss on her pussy,
however, Kasey spasmed in laughter.
"Chris, Ohmygod! Your MOUTH?!"
Chris climbed up to her face, smiling."
"You don't like that, I guess?"
Kasey just repeated herself. "Your MOUTH?!" She was
laughing. Chris started to laugh too, and just shrugged.
She wiped his mouth quickly with her hand, and kissed
him.
Chris lay next to Kasey, caressing her, kissing her,
being kissed by her, eventually working a finger into
her pussy, which was, as Chris had suspected, very
tight. He moved his middle finger in little circles,
working slightly deeper, slightly deeper, as Kasey
moaned.
Chris whispered. "No cherry? Hymen?"
She threw her arms around his neck, held her lips
against his ear, panting so hard she could barely speak.
"Broke it..." Even harder panting. "...myself. This
week..." A louder moan. "Ohhhh, Chris..." A deep breath.
"Tampon. Didn't want you to..."More panting. "...have to
worry about it."
Chris kissed her and smiled, whispered. "Thanks." She
laughed, a quick sharp guffaw. Chris continued to work
his finger farther in. She was a little bit moist, not
as moist as he would have liked. He reached for the
nightstand, grabbing the tube of lubricant.
Chris removed his finger from Kasey's pussy, squirted a
little bit of K-Y onto his fingers, and rubbed them
together, warming the jelly. He reached down and
continued slowly caressing Kasey, working the lube
slowly into her, as she moaned louder, even more
urgently.
"Oh my GOD, Chris!"
Chris was able to insert two fingers now. He slid them
slowly in and out, in and out, as Kasey moaned, her face
in Chris' neck, kissing him, sighing into him, coming
undone. He enjoyed the feel of Kasey, from the inside,
very warm, now wetter, so very very soft, still very
tight.
"Chris, oh GOD oh god oh god, I want you in me, in me,
your you-know-what in me, in-SIDE me oh GOD!"
Chris kissed her, excited, even more nervous. He let his
fingers slip out of her, warm, wet, sticky. He grabbed
the condom wrapper, opened it, popped the center of the
condom up slightly, placed it on the tip of his
throbbing penis. Kasey's fingers suddenly appeared on
the condom, and they unrolled it onto Chris' cock
together, Chris guiding her hands, Kasey smoothing it
over his cock, until it was in place.
"Ready?" Chris was panting too, now.
"Whhhhhew. I think so."
"Me, too."
"I love you, Chris."
"I love you, Kasey."
A deep sigh. Chris rolled Kasey gently onto her back,
knelt between her thighs, caressing them, spreading them
wider, wider still, pushing them back, her knees as far
back as he could move them, without hurting her. Chris
lowered himself, holding his cock in one hand, guiding
it, feeling it press against Kasey's pussy, excited, God
so excited, pressing harder, a little harder, his tip
splitting Kasey's pussy lips, not yet entering her
vagina, Chris moving it up and down a little, circling,
then pressing again, harder, not wanting to hurt Kasey,
reading her face for signs of pain, then pushing again
even harder than he thought he'd be willing to push,
until finally his cock head popped into Kasey, as she
squealed, loudly, and as Chris continued to press,
involuntarily now, sliding deeper into the girl, as she
moaned very, very loudly.
"OHHHHHHHHH! Yeee-owwww!" A moan, almost crying, from
Kasey.
"Does that hurt, sweetheart?" Chris breathed the words
directly into her ear.
"Owwww God. Yeah. Hurts." Harder panting. Chris held
her, worrying. She took a deep breath. Chris held her as
she panted, let out another little cry. She sucked in
her breath sharply, as Chris gently caressed her cheek.
"Hurts. A little. Oh, God! But it's, OH, it's like good,
though." Shallower panting now, and Kasey seemed to
relax, a bit.
"Wwwwwwow!"
"I'm all the way in now, as far as I can go, Kasey."
"Oh WOW that's nice oh WOW oh god oh MY oh wow."
Chris started stroking slowly, very slowly, gently, as
Kasey moaned louder and louder. He continued to stroke,
feeling the pressure build, wondering how long he could
hold on, hoping it would be long enough. Kasey was
tight, far tighter than he had imagined, and he'd spent
lots of time imagining, but the fantasies were no
preparation for the reality, the unceasing pressure on
every side of his cock as he pushed hard to thrust
himself into her, pulled back slowly to remove himself
almost all the way out, long strokes.
Feeling himself very near to bursting, the pressure was
too much, but he held on, stroking a little faster, a
little faster, Kasey's breathing accelerating, moans
quieting, quieting, little breath rattling in her throat
until she suddenly exploded in a literal scream, almost
scaring him. "YyyyHHHHEEEEEE!"
Chris felt her tight pussy contracting even tighter
around his cock, quick little rhythmic spasms of intense
pressure, as Kasey screamed into his ear, and he held
her sides, feeling her shake, still stroking faster.
Finally, Chris lost all control, spurting, then spurting
again, and again, waves of relief flooding over him as
his seed exploded deep into Kasey's tight little pussy,
or at least into the condom.
Chris grunted, then lost control, as everything seemed
to spin, go bright white, waves of pleasure rippling
through his body, ecstasy, Kasey's pussy's vice like
grip around his cock feeling more wonderful than ever,
until he realized he was moaning "Oh Kasey oh Kasey oh
Kasey," and felt himself collapse onto the girl, spent,
satisfied, and for a moment at least, at peace.
"Oh Chris oh Chris, Chris, Chris..." Kasey was breathing
his name into his mouth. Chris just held the girl,
gently caressing, coming down from the high. They rolled
together to their sides, still joined, Kasey still
clamping tightly on Chris' "you-know-what," as she had
called it. Chris tried to catch his breath, as he felt
himself start to shrink, still inside Kasey, just
barely.
"Kasey....Kasey..." Once again, it was all he could say.
She looked at him, blushed, smiled, and suddenly Chris
was overwhelmed by the fact of her youth, her age,
thirteen years old, still a child, technically, and felt
a quick burst of panic. He felt his cock slip out of her
completely, still wrapped in the used condom, and just
looked into her young face, directly into those brown
eyes that were looking so sweetly at him, adoring him,
and he almost gasped at how young she suddenly looked.
It was as if the comedown from his orgasm had somehow
stripped away his mental image of Kasey, his admiration
for her maturity and intellect, the pseudo-adult he'd
built her into in his mind, and he was left with only
the view of the child that she was, now naked beside
him, looking so very very young, frighteningly young.
She didn't really even look thirteen, he thought, more
like twelve, or even eleven. It was almost shocking,
made him wonder suddenly what he'd gotten himself into.
He wa
s scared.
Kasey smiled, giggled, nuzzled her face into his. She
was being cute, as cute as anything could possibly be.
Cute, and so very young. She rolled Chris over onto his
back, leaned over him, blushed, smiled, and spoke.
"Oh wow Chris, that was, like sooooooo amazing! Can you
believe we actually did that?" Kasey nuzzled tighter
into Chris, cuddling. "I'm so totally in love with you,
for real."
"Kasey..." He still couldn't say anything else. She
smiled at him, caressed his cheek.
"Hey...you OK in there?" Chris swallowed, nodded,
murmured her name again. She just gently smiled at him,
caressed his cheek, gave him little kisses, looked
warmly at him, this young girl, and he felt himself
start to relax, a little, but still couldn't speak
anything other than her name, and she kissed him even
more tenderly, still caressing him, and Chris felt
himself start to surrender, thinking that Kasey will
know what to do, what to say, she always does, and as he
thought this, mentally placed himself completely in the
girl's hands, murmuring her name, savoring her little
caresses.
His face now cradled in both her hands, he started to
feel better, and as she placed her face right against
his, young eyes looking directly into his, noses
touching, he again no longer cared how shockingly young
she looked, how shockingly young she indeed was. He felt
all the love feelings for Kasey well up within him
stronger than ever, overwhelming him, flooding him with
tenderness and admiration, love beyond belief for this
young girl that was saving him, even now, every minute
of every day she was saving him.
"Oh, Kasey, I love you," he finally managed to gasp. She
giggled, kissed him cutely, as he sighed, and realized
where the panic had come from. He looked at Kasey,
stared into her eyes, knowing that he was now completely
severed emotionally from his previous life, which was
good as gone, that this girl was his future. He didn't
know how or when or what form his future would take, but
however it happened, Chris knew, as he looked at Kasey,
that he was gazing at its center.
Kasey threw her arms around his neck, pulled his head
close to her, pressed her lips against his ear,
breathing, then whispering, so softly Chris had to hold
his breath to hear.
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
Seven:
Kasey leaned back against Chris, enjoyed the feel of the
water cascading over both their bodies, enjoyed the feel
of his fingers washing her hair, enjoyed the feel of his
strong body against hers. She looked down, watched the
water splash down over his legs, slicking down all of
his little hairs, over her legs too. She slipped her leg
between his, watched the water splash and pool at their
feet. She loved the sight of her legs next to his, hairy
next to smooth, male and female, all tangled together.
She closed her eyes as Chris continued to massage her
scalp.
She let him guide her under the shower head, rinsing her
head, cleaning her, just as he had washed her body with
his soapy bare hands. He had been in the shower first,
and was now almost pruned, waterlogged. Before getting
in, she'd just watched him for a long time through the
glass shower doors, loving the sight of his wet naked
body, amazed at what was hers.
"You can get out, dry yourself off, Chris. I wanna steam
in here some more."
Chris held her belly in his right hand, her breast in
his left. Leaning down from behind and above, he kissed
her lips deeply. "Don't stay in too long."
Kasey watched Chris dry himself, exit the bathroom and
close the door. She let out a deep breath. The day had
been amazing, and was still overwhelming her. She
touched herself between her legs, winced a little. She
was still surprisingly sore. It was a good kind of pain
though, reminding her of what they had just done
together.
She still couldn't believe it. Kasey smiled, bounced a
little on her toes, laughed out loud.
"Sex, we had sex. Sex!" she said, out loud, just to hear
herself say it. "I had sex with Chris. Chris had sex
with me. We made love."
Kasey laughed again, leaned against the shower wall,
touched herself again.
"I'm not a virgin anymore. I am NOT a virgin." She
smiled again, then laughed, almost giddy.
"Chris is my lover!"
She didn't usually talk to herself out loud, but Kasey
just wanted to hear these truths spoken, to reassure
herself that it was real, that it wasn't all a dream.
She shook herself back and forth, couldn't contain her
joy. She wanted to dance and sing, shout it from the
rooftops.
Kasey replayed every sensation in her mind, every
feeling, every ecstasy. She remembered how it took her
awhile to enjoy Chris' caresses down there, because the
way he touched her was different than the way she'd
touched herself, which was with two fingers and short
little hard strokes. His caresses just hadn't been how
she'd imagined it, and it threw her, until she realized
what an idiot she was being, that Chris himself, in the
flesh, had his actual hand on her actual pussy, and she
should just enjoy the real thing, whatever it felt like.
When she relaxed, it felt better than she'd ever been
able to imagine anything feeling anyway. And when he was
inside her: wow. She didn't have words to describe it.
It was something beyond words.
When she finally walked down the hall to her room,
wearing only her robe, Chris was lying on her bed, in
just his boxer shorts, looking through one of her books.
She just watched him, her lover, could hardly believe he
was here, nearly naked, in her bed, lying exactly where
she had been last year, as she read the book he had
given her. He saw her, smiled.
"Hello, beautiful."
"Hi, lover."
He smiled again.
"I don't think I've read Sarah Dessen."
"YA. Young Adult fiction. You probably haven't. You're
all into your lit-fic authors."
"I'm probably missing out."
"Some of it is really good. Not, like, Garcia-Marquez
good, but still good. If you like her, you should start
with 'That Summer.' Wait a minute."
Kasey stood on tiptoes, reached the top shelf of her
bookcase, and found the volume, handed it to Chris.
"Here. Take it with you. Read it. Enjoy it. Bring it
back whenever."
Chris smiled at her, and she laughed, remembering how
generous he'd been sharing his books. She was glad they
were sharing much more than that now. She kissed him
again, and again, and again.
Chris looked at the book, then looked at her, as Kasey
found a clean pair of panties, slid them on, removed her
robe, pulled on a training bra. Chris was staring, hard.
"Like what you see?"
"More than you can imagine. Light blue polka dots -
never knew they were so sexy."
"Learn something new every day!"
Kasey picked up Chris' dress shirt from the floor -
white, with a faint blue and black grid pattern of thin
stripes. She slipped it on, pushing her arms through the
sleeves, rolling them up until her hands were free,
buttoning it most of the way up. It came to her knees.
No surprise - Chris was tall.
"Kasey, wow!"
"No offense, but it looks better on me than on you."
"No argument there - anything would look good on you."
For that, Chris got a kiss. And another, and another,
and another....
In the early afternoon, after cleaning up the breakfast
mess, and making out, and cooking lunch, and making out,
and eating lunch, and making out, and cleaning the lunch
mess, and making out, and listening to music, and making
out, Kasey found herself lying on the couch in the
living room with Chris. She still wore his shirt; he
still wore only his boxers, as Kasey wouldn't let him
put the dress pants back on yet.
"Chris, if you had blue jeans here, you could wear just
them, and that would be, like, incredibly hot!" He
looked flattered.
"I wish I could have worn them today, but I had to
pretend I was going to work."
Kasey mocked Sara's mom, imitating her voice.
"Successful day at work today, honey?" Chris almost
groaned.
"Oh, Kasey, PLEASE don't remind me of that woman."
"Sorry." Kasey regretted it, bringing the thought of her
into it, but was buoyed somewhat by Chris' reaction, the
way he didn't want to be reminded of Jessica.
"It's OK. Listen. Today is just about us. You and me.
Chris and Kasey. Nobody else allowed. Period." She
smiled. They were lying on opposite ends of the same
couch, facing each other, bare legs again all tangled
together between them. Kasey looked down at both their
legs, rubbed her foot along Chris' calf, stretched her
legs so her foot caressed his thigh, let it finally rest
in his lap, near his thingy. She was tempted to ask
another question, thought better of it, sighed.
"You're wondering something, though."
"You probably, like, don't want me to ask you, though."
"I won't know what it is unless you ask."
"But it's about that woman." Chris thought for a minute.
"Go ahead and ask. I promise I'll be honest with you,
whatever it is. Then we drop her from the conversation."
"Deal." Kasey paused, closed her eyes tight, took a deep
breath. "Chris, well, I mean, do you love me more than
you love her?"
Chris smiled, warmly. "Yes, Kasey. Absolutely, totally,
no-doubt-about it yes. You're the love of my life."
Kasey beamed. She lunged at Chris, locked him in a big
hug, kissed him, held him, felt his hand on her face, on
her hair, on her back, kissed his sweet lips again. They
smiled, laughed.
"Conversation closed."
Kasey leaned back against her side of the couch, picked
up her book, the Jennifer Egan book Chris had given her.
He was reading "That Summer." Kasey thought it was funny
how he was reading the YA book, and she was reading the
grown up stuff.
She was getting aroused again. She slid her bare foot
along his upper thigh, through the gap in his boxers,
rubbed it against his thingymajig, felt it growing. He
glanced up at her, smiled. She tried to be seductive,
coy.
"What is it, love?"
"Oh, Kasey."
"Somebody's getting ex-CIIIIT-ed again..."
"Wow, Kasey."
She had to be honest with him.
"Chris, but here's the thing. I'm really, really sore
down there. Really."
"Then we won't do anything to make you more sore."
"But you know that thing you did that made me laugh so
hard?"
"When I kissed you on your..."
"YES!" She interrupted him. "Well, I know it sounds
silly, since I laughed at you earlier, but now, well, I
kinda sorta want you to, well, you know..."
"Yes?" Chris raised one eyebrow. It was totally cute.
"I wantcha to do that to me!"
"Hmmmm. Let's see what we can do."
And in the next instant, Chris was above her, on his
knees between her legs, still tangled together on the
couch. He kissed her, his little shy kiss, and she
grabbed his face, gave him a good hard kiss, caressed
his cheeks, messed up his hair. Chris began slowly
unbuttoning her shirt, HIS shirt, opening it up, helping
her sit up, take it off. He caressed her bra, pressed on
each polka dot, reached behind her and unclasped it,
helped her out of it.
Finally, he again slid her panties down, making her
gasp, because she loved how it felt when he pulled them
off of her, when he bared her, so that now her whole
naked body was again exposed to his gaze. She sighed.
She loved being the center of his attention.
Chris leaned in, sucked on her left boob. This felt
really good. She hadn't really imagined it before, but
it was nice, sort of. He sucked on one, then the other,
back and forth. She liked it when he flicked her nipple
back and forth with his tongue. That felt awesome. His
hands were caressing her belly, tenderly and lovingly.
She loved the way he wasn't just looking past her belly,
ignoring her weight. If anything, he was going out of
his way to caress it. It seemed to sort of turn him on,
actually.
Soon he was kissing her spots again. This almost brought
tears to her eyes, tears of joy. He not only accepted
her, but the things she was worried about him not liking
were the things he seemed to love. Still caressing her
tummy, then her little boobs, kissing each spot, then
kissing her boobs again, she felt so wonderful, having
this man, this amazing man absolutely adore her. She
wiped away a tear.
Before long he was kissing down the length of her belly,
even planting a kiss on her belly button, then down over
her mound, even in the hair she had there, and an
instant later she felt his lips on her down-there lips
and she just about screamed.
Oh, God, this time it felt great. She couldn't believe
he wanted to do this, but why complain? She felt him
give her little kisses, then big kisses, then she felt,
could it really be, his tongue licking her, spreading
her, a long, slow lick, and she screamed again in
pleasure, amazed, surprised. This was almost as good as
when he was inside her.
Kasey wrapped her legs around Chris, her feet on his
back, as he just kept licking, even harder, faster. Holy
freaky crap, this was amazing. She was squealing, little
sounds escaping over which she had no control
whatsoever. She reached her arms up behind her, over her
head, grabbed onto the couch cushion, gripping it tight,
squealing more. She started thrusting herself at Chris'
mouth, pressing into him.
She didn't know if she was supposed to, but couldn't
help it. The waves of feels-so-good were coming fast
now, and she knew she was going to have an orgasm,
surprised at how fast it was coming on. She squealed,
screamed, stretched her whole body out, quivering down
there, everything but Chris disappearing, so... so...
so... SO... good, and she dropped, collapsed, smiling.
Chris lay on her again, as she panted. As she calmed
down, he nuzzled her, not wanting to kiss her yet,
thoughtfully waiting until he could clean off his mouth.
Kasey reached down beside her, picked up her panties
from the floor. She found a clean patch of fabric on the
side, a part that had been covering her hip.
"C'mere." Chris looked at her. She wiped his mouth with
the panties thoroughly, being maybe a bit rough. She
laughed. "Tongue, please." Chris dutifully stuck it out,
and she used another clean patch to wipe it. "Clean."
They both laughed.
"Better this time?" Chris was being cute.
"Yes it was."
They kissed. Chris was a great kisser, not that she had
anyone to compare him to, but still, she just knew. He
had a way of starting out shy and soft, then suddenly
kissing her harder, then slow and sweet, then ramping it
up again, more intense. It was fun keeping up. It felt
great being held by him as she savored the orgasm, being
kissed by him, being naked for him. It felt weird being
naked on the living room couch, though.
"Chris, I really, really liked that." She wanted to tell
him something, was trying to bring it up gently. She
scolded herself for being so shy.
"But Chris, well, the thing is...I mean, I don't think I
really want to do that to you. Put my mouth on your you-
know-what."
"Kasey, that's OK. I wouldn't expect you to."
"I'm sorry I can't." His words started to sink in.
"Really?"
"Nope. You're still new to all this. Relax."
"But what about - I mean, even when I'm not new to all
this. What if we're together for life, and I don't ever
feel ready to do this, I mean, will that be OK, too? I
mean, you'd never get to feel that, ever! Would that be
OK?"
"Yep. Of course, Kasey. You mean far more to me than any
blow job."
She felt loved. Totally unconditionally loved. "It's not
that I don't want to make you feel good like that, it's
just that it seems completely gross."
"Then it IS completely gross. Kasey, you're amazing. You
make me happier than I can ever remember being. Don't
worry about it. There will be lots of things we're going
to like doing together, and also lots of things we won't
like to do. We're just now starting to figure out what
those are. It's OK, Kasey. We've got nothing but time."
She felt loved even more. Nothing but time. A future
together. Chris was serious about this. She realized she
was somewhat intimidated because she was so young,
didn't want to be hesitant to do something that a grown
up would just automatically do, to be at a disadvantage
compared to anyone else such as his wife, or any other
adults Chris might like. Now she was realizing that he
didn't care; he even, she thought, sort of LIKED that
she was so young, loved her for exactly who she was. She
was almost about to cry again. She tried to snap out of
it.
"OK, Chris, lay back." She pushed him gently off her,
upright, then back against the other side of the couch.
She smiled at him, started to pull down his boxers.
"Kasey, you don't have to..."
"Shhhhh." She put her finger to his lips, quieting him.
Pulling his boxers the rest of the way off, she looked
him over. They were both naked now. Leaning down,
placing her face near his crotch, she again petted his
balls, squeezed them a little, as he seemed to yelp (did
that hurt, she wondered) then held his weenie in her
hand gently, watching it grow, rising. It was kinda fun
to watch. She held her lips within an inch of it,
smelling it (though right now it mostly smelled like
their shower soap), giving it a little caress with her
hand. She realized that she was right - she couldn't do
it. She didn't think she'd be able to, but wanted to get
close, just to make sure.
It wasn't like his thingy was too gross - it was
actually kind of cute, especially the way it perked up,
came to life at her touch. She honestly did like holding
it, making him feel good. But the thought of her mouth
on it was just too much. Kasey had an idea. She blew a
stream of air through her lips at it, from the bottom of
the shaft to the top, a lungful directed at it from
close range.
"Blowjob!"
Chris laughed hard, so hard that his weenie jerked and
actually brushed her cheek, which was weird, but not too
bad. He pulled her up toward himself, kissed her, still
rocking in laughter. She laughed too.
She took his weenie, his thingy, his penis (gaaah, why
did she HATE that WORD?) again into her hand, running
just her fingertips softly up and down the underside of
the shaft, and the sides. Chris really squirmed, hard.
Kasey pressed her lips to his ear, making sure they
stayed against his ear, never breaking contact, kissing
his ear, and whispering softly into it.
"Do you like that, lover? Is that what you like?" Chris
was just moaning.
"Mmmmm. Sounds like you like it." She flattened her hand
against its underside, pressing hard, rubbing up and
down. "How's that, lover?" Her lips were still glued to
his ear.
"Mmmm oh yes that's better, harder, but..."
"But what, sweetheart? What is it?"
"Oh, it's good. It's so good."
"You can tell me, sweetie. We're lovers now. I need to
know." She was still whispering, very soft. "It's OK.
You can tell me. I want to learn."
"Oh, wow, Kasey, if you gripped it more it would feel
so... so... so... incredible, your hand around it, or
even just your fingertips, pressing hard, you know,
pressure, Kasey, pressure..."
"You like the pressure? How about this, love?" She
wrapped her hand tightly around his cock, stroking up
and down. Her left hand was gently caressing his hair,
near the ear into which she whispered. "I like it when
you feel good." Chris was moaning, enjoying himself. She
tried just her fingertips, her thumb against the top of
his shaft, the pads of three fingers against the
underside, stroking hard, near the base. Chris seemed to
like this even more.
"Mmmm. Yeah. Wow, Kasey, wow. Oh, keep doing that,
please."
"I will, lover." She caressed his hair, kissed his ear,
stroked his penis.
"Oh, Kasey, maybe a little bit higher would be, would
be, mmmm, heavenly."
"Oh, really? Is that true, love?" A few more kisses to
his ear, and Kasey moved her hand up his shaft, still
stroking. When her finger hit the spot on the underside
just below the tip, Chris seemed to jolt to life,
straightening, squealing, almost screaming. He must like
this spot, Kasey thought.
"Is that your favorite spot, love?"
"Mmmmm Hmmmm. Oh, yeah."
A few more strokes, and Chris was helping, thrusting,
moaning loudly as Kasey watched one spurt, then another
spurt, then another, smaller spurt, watched three shots
of milky white goo shoot at his belly, his chest,
splattering him sporadically, as Chris seemed to
deflate, breathing hard, chest heaving up and down,
sexy. She reminded herself to watch his face next time
they did this - she wanted to see his face as he had his
orgasm. Kasey kept her lips tight to his ear, kept
caressing, continued stroking his weenie softly. She
whispered.
"Was that nice?"
"Oh, Kasey, yes, God yes."
"I love you, Chris, and I love making you feel good."
Kasey removed her hand from his thingy, tapped lightly
at a bit of goo on his belly, was sort of grossed out by
it, wiped it on him.
"I'm gonna get you a washcloth."
"Thank you. Oh, love...."
A minute later, Kasey was kneeling beside Chris, warm
washcloth in hand, very gently wiping him up, cleaning
him. She climbed on top of him, enjoyed the feel of
being
naked with him, cuddling, kissing. She lay her head on
his chest, felt him caressing her hair, started to fall
asleep.
Eight:
Chris lay on Kasey's bed, still in his boxers, alone. He
wondered what surprise Kasey had in store for him.
He looked around the room. Pink. Yellow. Stuffed
animals. It still felt weird being here, being
undressed, the little-girlness of the room not helping,
although, to be honest, there was nowhere in the world
that he would rather be. He looked at the alarm clock.
He needed to be leaving in about an hour. He definitely
didn't want to get caught.
The day had been amazing, satisfying beyond his wildest
dreams. He was so in love with Kasey that it scared him.
This girl was everything to him now, his sun, his moon,
his night, his day. He was dreading going home.
Kasey came in with a couple of binders, filled with
printed pages.
"OK, Chris, I had to get these out of my backpack in the
garage."
Kasey climbed onto the bed, sat up, across from Chris.
She looked nervous.
"These are my short stories. I want to start with these,
before the poems, or the novel."
"This is your writing, Kasey?"
"Yeah." She blushed. "I type it in on the computer, but
then I just print it out and delete it. I don't want
anyone using the laptop to accidentally see. They know
not to look in these binders."
"Kasey, wow, you're prolific." Another blush.
"Thanks. The thing is, Chris, you have to promise that
you'll like, be honest with me about whether it's good,
but also no making fun of me, OK?"
"Kasey, I'd never make fun of you. Are you kidding?"
"It just makes me nervous, is all. Chris, you've got to
understand. Nobody other than me has EVER seen these.
This is my private writing, and I'm really sensitive
about it."
She adjusted her glasses. She was still wearing his
shirt, no pants. "I mean, I hope I can publish some of
it someday, but before then, I'm really really really
protective of it."
"That makes sense."
"I mean, it sounds weird, so please believe me, but
sharing these with you is making me a LOT more nervous
than being naked in front of you."
"Really, Kasey?"
She nodded her head, seriously, took a deep breath.
"So do you promise? Be honest, but constructive
criticism only? OK? And none of this goes beyond you and
me."
"I promise, Kasey. I promise."
Kasey needed a couple more deep breaths before again
adjusting her glasses, opening one of her binders, and
flipping through it to find the right story. She looked
at Chris, smiled, and he smiled back, hoping his smile
was comforting. She exhaled, looked down.
Kasey began to read.
EPILOGUE:
Seven years after Kasey discovered Chris' basement,
Jessica stood in the same spot in which Chris and Kasey
had their first conversation. Susan was helping her take
down the shelves, clean out the remains of Chris' things
before the remodel.
"So he's really getting nothing out of the divorce?"
"Not after his sleeping around."
"I heard about the affair - I'm so sorry - but not who
it was with. Who was it?"
Jessica's face turned sour. "A kid. Kasey. You know,
Scott and Bridget's girl?"
Susan's mouth hung open. "Oh my GOD! Are you serious?
You mean LITTLE Kasey? In Sara's grade?"
"Yep. That's the one. To think of all the times I
invited her over with her family, into this very house."
"What was it all the kids used to call her? Kooky
Kasey?"
"That's it. Kooky Kasey. Apparently she's 19, and legal,
but who knows how long they've been at it. We've been an
only-for-show marriage for some time now."
"I see why he's getting nothing."
"Exactly. Nobody's proved it, but there's a good chance
he's been sleeping with an underage girl since who knows
when. He wasn't exactly in a position to negotiate."
"Well we're all here for you, Jessica. You stay strong."
Miles away, in a not-quite-yet gentrified neighborhood
near downtown, Chris made his way home, walking through
the streets carrying a few large prints, along with a
bag of Chinese take-out. He'd spent a long day at the
gallery, finishing up the construction, readying for the
opening, calling artists about potential shows. It was
hard work, long hours, hitting him especially hard now
that he was in his forties, although he wasn't
complaining. He loved it. He also needed it to make some
sort of a profit. They needed the money. The advance on
Kasey's novel wouldn't last forever.
Chris climbed the stairs to the small apartment, and
opened the door. Inside, Kasey sat on the end of the bed
that took up most of the single room that doubled as
their bedroom and living space. Her laptop was perched
on a TV tray in front of her; she was typing furiously,
wearing only panties and a little thin-strap sleeveless
undershirt.
"My, my, isn't this a fantasy come true?"
Kasey looked around, smiled. "Hi, love!" She kept typing
as she spoke. "I know you've told me that just panties
and an undershirt is sexier than any lingerie, but
seriously, Chris, I just grabbed this off the bed and
threw it on. I had an idea when I was in the shower, and
I wanted to work it in, fast."
"Sure you did..." Chris smiled, set down the large
prints, kissed Kasey on the lips quickly, maneuvered
around her into the tiny kitchen, setting down their
dinner on the little counter. He made his way back to
the bed, lay back, just watched Kasey, enjoying the
sight of her, nineteen years old, insanely busy, college
student writing a novel on the side. She was beautiful
as ever, impressive as ever. He was still amazed that
she was his.
Kasey typed for five more minutes, stopped with a
flourish.
"That should do for now. I got the idea down, so I won't
lose it. I'll need to clean it up soon, though."
"You'll be working on it all night again, won't you?"
"My publisher needs something in two weeks, so yeah. No
snoring tonight - it's distracting." She climbed onto
the bed with him, kissed him fully on the lips. "If we
want a little treat, we'd better do it now."
Chris held her in his arms, caressed her, pulled her
down onto him. He whispered.
"Kasey, I love this."
"Sex? I know. I can tell."
"No, well, yes, but I mean this. Us. Living here,
working on what we like, making a life together. I've
never, ever been this happy in my entire life, Kasey."
A smile. A soft caress. "I know, Chris. I know."
END
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real
life" can look forward to many unproductive years
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 71