("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ 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!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- 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 *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 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. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 71