Chapter 7
Harry and Christie’s
Excellent Adventure
by knight_b_4@hotmail.com
Story codes: Mff, hum, les, rom, preg
Author’s Note:  This story involves sexual activity between a variety of people, some of whom are underage. If it is illegal in your jurisdiction to read about such things, please delete this story immediately. (And know that you have my sympathies for living in such a repressive atmosphere.) This story is entirely a work of fiction; none of the events described herein actually took place (at least not to the author’s knowledge). The author does not condone sexual activity with minors, although he does recommend most of the following if done with a consenting adult.
This story may be posted with no changes or deletions on a free site, or the free area of a commercial site. The work is copyright 2012 by the author, and all rights are reserved.
I thought maybe work would keep me busy, but no such luck. I was so excited about tonight that I couldn’t concentrate, and did more damage than anything else. I finally gave up, closed the document I was working on without saving it, and tried playing computer games for a while. That didn’t help either.
Normally, I’m not terribly concerned about what I wear. Today, though, I spent a long time picking out just the right thing for tonight. Marvin’s, the restaurant where I’d made reservations, wasn’t really a “tie required” place, but it wasn’t someplace you went super casual either. But I hadn’t told Christie to bring anything nice, so we’d look funny if I wore a suit and she was casual. Then again, if she decided to dress up and I didn’t, we’d look funny. I finally decided the hell with it and picked out a dark suit anyway; I could always lose the jacket. I made it a little more casual by picking out a pullover sweater instead of a regular shirt; classy but not too dressy.
After a couple of eons, it finally came time to start getting ready. I got hard in the shower, but told my cock to go back down- if my honey was horny (and when wasn’t she) I wanted to make sure I had all she wanted. It protested that it could handle a quick yank now and still be ready for later, but I told it no and, grumbling and muttering, it finally went back down; the blast of cold water I finished the shower with probably helped.
I had to dig through the bathroom cabinets to find cologne; I don’t often have a reason to wear any, and the bottle was shoved way back in the corner. As I dressed, by force of habit I stuffed the green thong in my pocket, then decided that was silly. Who needs a reminder when you’re with the real thing? I carefully spread it out on my pillow, then had a momentary panic. The sheets! I forgot to change the sheets. The ones that were on there were probably OK, but I wanted everything fresh for this night. I mean, there’s only one “first night” with someone, and I wanted everything to be perfect.
I yanked the bedspread down and dragged everything to the little space at the back where I have the washer and dryer. I found some dark green sheets and pillowcases, and on a whim grabbed a red blanket, wondering if Christie would catch it.
The thongs themselves I decided to put in my nightstand drawer. Even though I normally slept with them on the other pillow (or sometimes with one in my hand), I didn’t know if Christie would think that was sweet or weird. Better to just put them away.
There was still plenty of time, and I had another idea that sent me searching through cabinets. I finally found a box of taper candles and a few holders, took them back to the bedroom and set up candles around the room. I made a mental note to pick up a lighter while we were out, or I was going to look awfully silly later.
Time continued its slow drag and a little after three I said “Fuck it” and left. I knew I was going to be too early, but I couldn’t stand being in the house anymore. I walked out to the car, slapped my forehead, walked back in and found the earrings I’d gotten for her, then went back to the car and drove off. I went to the same florists shop and got another red rose boutonniere for me, then paced around the shop while she put together a small corsage for Christie- one white rose and one red one, again bundled with some baby’s breath. Feeling pleased with myself and the world, I drove off to the mall, stopping at that little convenience store to pick up a lighter and some more breath spray.
It was about 10 to 4 when I pulled up. I was early and didn’t really expect to see Christie, but I was still a little disappointed when I didn’t. Ten minutes wasn’t that long to wait, was it? Two hours later (ok, it was really only two minutes), a city bus pulled up in front of me and started dropping off passengers. I wasn’t paying much attention, just kind of idly watching the people to give me something to do, when Lily got off, with Christie right behind.
How can you describe a goddess?
Christie had on what must’ve been one of Lily’s long dresses, as it looked like something she’d wear. It was black (silk, I soon discovered) and solid down to just above her knees, then black lace overlapping strips from there to her ankles; the strips parted and shifted to show Christie’s lovely legs when she walked. She wore a shimmery silver long-sleeve blouse with shiny pearl buttons that fastened all the way up to her (beautiful) neck, topped by a little standup Nehru-style collar. That gorgeous coppery hair flowed down her back in waves; at her temples, two long braids hung down on each side, tied up with ribbons. (One red, one green; I snickered at that. Yep, my darling would catch the sheets and blanket thing, no question.)
I got out of the car and called out “Hi, girls” but I needn’t have bothered; Lily had already spotted me and was bounding my way. She leaped onto me and I staggered back and grabbed her ass to balance us as she wrapped her legs and arms around me and gave me a great big kiss.
“Hi, Harry,” she said, grinning into my face. Some older people passing by muttered darkly, but who cared.
“Hi, Lily,” I said, squeezing her butt.
“Oooo, Harry,” she said, grinding her crotch into mine. “Wanna take me home instead?”
“Not for a minute.” I pinched her butt and she squealed. “Now get down before you get me arrested.” She dropped off me and rubbed her butt in mock indignation.
“Meanie. See if I ever kiss you again.” I blew her a kiss. “OK,” she said, and grabbed me in another liplock, pushing at my closed lips with her tongue. “Aw, c’mon, Harry, open up a little.”
“Ahem,” Christie said, tapping Lily on the shoulder. “Would you mind getting your lips off Harry? I have a prior claim for the evening, and I don’t want to taste that cheap lipstick you like.”
“You never let me have any fun, Mom,” Lily complained, then pinched my butt. “See how you like it, meanie.”
I turned to Christie and just couldn’t say anything for a minute. Up close, I could see that she’d spent some time on her makeup; it was the first time I’d ever seen her in makeup, except for a little lip gloss. It wasn’t that heavy paint job so many girls her age do, either; it looked sophisticated and elegant. (She told me later that Lily’s mother had done it for her.) It added about 4 years to her apparent age and did the impossible- made her beautiful face even more beautiful. (But only a little; she was so naturally beautiful you couldn’t do much more.)
“Hi,” she said, suddenly looking shy as I stared at her. “Do I look OK?”
“No.” Her face fell. “You are so far beyond OK that I don’t think there’s words for it. But we could start with ‘beautiful,’ ‘stunning,’ ‘gorgeous’.” Even through the makeup, I could see her blush and she smiled.
“Don’t forget ‘hot’,” Lily chimed in.
“Nuclear hot,” I agreed, as Christie and I continued looking into each other’s eyes.
“You two ever gonna kiss or not?” Lily finally asked, then “whoofed” when Christie’s elbow caught her in the ribs.
“Shut up, you,” she said without looking away, and I leaned in and kissed her, softly, tenderly, circumspectly so even the old folks couldn’t complain. And oh, it was sweet. And when it was done, I pulled back and we looked at each other some more.
“Well, it’s real fun standing here watching you two stare at each other, but I think I’ll go inside and meet up with my hot date,” Lily said. “Just as soon as I figure out which one he is. See you guys. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, which pretty much leaves it open.” Cackling madly, Lily skipped away; we barely noticed, although we mumbled “See you’s” in her general direction.
Christie finally broke the silence.
“You wore another rose. Didn’t think I’d recognize you this time?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t rip someone else’s clothes off by mistake.” She grinned. “But I thought maybe this time you should have one, too.” I’d left the window open, so I reached in and grabbed the florist’s box off the dashboard. “May I pin this on you?” I asked, pulling the corsage out of the box.
“Oh, Harry, it’s beautiful.” Her eyes shone, and there was a hint of moisture in the corners. “You really are trying to get laid tonight, aren’t you?”
“With you, doesn’t take flowers for that, now does it?” I said, grinning. “I just thought since we’re going out to a nice place that you might like to wear one. Or we can toss it back in the box if you don’t.”
“No, no, I want to. I’ve never worn a corsage before,” she said. “Will you pin it on me?”
“With pleasure.”
It wasn’t the easiest blouse to pin a corsage to, being high-necked and somewhat tight. But after a bit of fumbling (and the shocking discovery that Christie was actually wearing a bra), it settled nicely just below her left shoulder. She looked down at it, then grabbed me in a tight, tight hug, her head on my chest.
“Hey, careful, you’ll crush it,” I said, but I wrapped my arms around her and hugged back just as hard anyway. An impatient car horn made us jump, and then she looked up at me, kissed me firmly, and said, “Maybe we ought to get out of the way.”
I walked her around to the other side and held the door open for her as the horn honked again; I ignored it, Christie flipped them off. I hurried back to my side and got in, and the horn sounded a third time as I fumbled with my seat belt. Without looking back, both of us flipped him off and, grinning, high-fived each other.
As we pulled away, I said, “Well, we have a couple of hours to kill before our reservations. Want to grab something to drink at Murray’s? I think maybe Joanne would like to see how pretty you look.”
“And how handsome you are, too,” Christie said. She was quiet for a minute, then added, “I went to see her after I hit you.”
“I know, she told me. Oh, she didn’t tell me what you talked about,” I added quickly, as Christie looked concerned, “just that you’d been there. I thought talking to her might help. That’s why I told Lily to tell you she said hello.”
“I was heading there anyway, I think. Lily didn’t catch up to me until I was out of the mall and walking that way. I live in the other direction, so I don’t really know where I was going, but as soon as Lily mentioned that, I knew where I had to go.” She bit her lip. “Joanne’s a really nice lady, and a pretty smart one, too. And she says nice things about you, Harry.”
“She thinks a lot of you, too. And I’ll bet she’ll be happy to see us together, ready to head out on Harry and Christie’s Excellent Adventure.”
“You liked that movie? I thought it was cool,” she said, and we talked about Bill and Ted and phone booths on our way to Murray’s.
Joanne waved to us from the other side of the restaurant as we walked in, a big smile on her face. I waved back, and was pleased to see she was wearing the earrings I’d gotten her. We sat in the same booth we’d been in before (a week ago tonight, I remembered). Christie hurried around to where I’d been sitting then, slid all the way over and patted the seat; I slid in next to her, and she shyly reached out and took my hand, squeezing it. We were still holding hands when Joanne came over to us.
“Hi, Harry,” she said. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your pretty friend?” Christie glowed and grinned.
“Hi, Joanne,” she said. “You come to save me from this lecherous old pervert?”
“I don’t think you’d let me if I tried, honey,” Joanne answered, and they both laughed.
“As the pervert in question,” I said with great dignity, “I want to make it perfectly clear that my intentions are entirely dishonorable.”
“Well, you’re a guy,” Joanne said. “Of course they’re dishonorable.” Christie giggled and I smiled. “And thanks for these, Harry” she flipped one earring “I really like them. But you made a mistake the other day.” She reached into her apron pocket and took out $45. “You left a fifty when you meant to leave a five.” I opened my mouth to protest that it was no mistake, but she cut me off. “Friends don’t need paying for helping friends,” and slid the money across the table. I know when to retreat, so I smiled and took it, sliding it into my pocket. I’d figure out another way to say thanks.
Joanne took our drink orders and sat down with us when she brought them. Christie told her we were heading out to dinner at “some nice place, I guess” and Joanne lifted an eyebrow when I said it was Marvin’s.
“That is a nice place, Christie. I think he’s trying to get you to show him your panties.”
“He’s in for a surprise, then,” she said, grinning evilly. “I’m not wearing any. He keeps stealing them from me, so I figured if I wanted to have any left, I’d better not wear any.”
Joanne raised an eyebrow at me. “Never figured you for a panty sniffer, Harry.”
Blushing slightly, remembering the several times I’d done just that over the past few days, I managed to come back with, “Hey, everyone has to have a hobby. But don’t worry, yours are safe- I don’t steal panties from women on Social Security.”
Whatever rejoinder she might’ve had went unsaid, as Murray called “Order up” from the kitchen, and Joanne went to deliver it.
“Did you really get her those earrings?” Christie asked, with perhaps just a little touch of jealousy in her voice.
“Yeah, I did. Really ugly, aren’t they?” Christie nodded, grinning. “They were just my way of saying thanks. I came to talk to her, too, the day after you did. Did you really call me a big fucking asshole?” I asked, pushing my bottom lip out in a fake pout. Christie snickered.
“Probably. I called you a lot of other things, too,” she said. “Some of ‘em you deserved, but a lot of ‘em you didn’t.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry I blew up like that. Being pregnant’s a bitch; lots of mood swings, you know?” I squeezed back.
“I know. I’m sorry for being a big fucking asshole, too.” I leaned over and kissed her forehead; I figured the other customers couldn’t object to that, but might not like it if I kissed her lips. Especially if I kissed her the way I really wanted to.
“Oh, and I have an answer to your question,” I said, reaching into my jacket pocket and clutching the earring box. Christie looked puzzled. “Remember, you had Lily ask me if white was for green, what color was for red?” She smiled and nodded. I pulled the box out and flipped it open, making sure I angled it so the sunlight would catch the opals. “For red, you get the rainbow.”
I didn’t know her eyes could get that big. For a brief moment, I had a mental vision of Christie as an anime character; Sailor Moon was trailer park trash next to my Christie.
“Oh, Harry,” she breathed, stretching out one hand but not quite daring to touch them. She looked up at me, and I drowned in those huge green eyes. “These aren’t really for me, are they?” I nodded and pushed the box at her, and she finally took it. She just held it in her hand and stared, tipping it this way and that to catch the light.
And suddenly my arms were full of hugging, sobbing girl, and everyone else in the restaurant was looking at us. I didn’t care.
Joanne came over, looking concerned. “What did you do this time, Harry,” she asked.
Christie just sobbed and thrust the box at her. Joanne took it and her eyes softened. “Hey, Harry. You have taste after all. How come I got the ugly ones?” She laughed as I looked startled. “It’s OK, I really do like ‘em.” She looked back down at Christie’s earrings and shook her head. “Harry, I’ve known you a long time and this proves it- you really are a class act.” She set the box down on the table, patted my shoulder and smiled at me, then patted Christie’s shoulder. “Honey, how about we go to the bathroom? I bet your makeup needs fixing.” Christie clung to me a short time more, then slowly relaxed her grip and looked up into my eyes; yep, her makeup needed fixing alright.
“Ha-harry,” she said softly, gulping a little. “No one’s ever gotten me anything this nice. Thank you.” She reached up and kissed me softly, a chaste peck on the lips; she knew everyone else was watching us. She half-chuckled, half-sobbed. “No one’s ever made me cry this much, either,” she said, swiping at her eyes.
“Happy tears are good tears, dear,” I said. “I’ll try to give you lots more of those than the other kind from now on.”
“You get that corn from a can, Harry? Move your butt and let that girl out,” Joanne ordered. “We’ve got damage control to do. Don’t wipe any more, honey, or you’ll make it harder to fix.” I moved and Christie slid out, giving me another quick hug. Joanne picked up the earring box and the two of them headed off for the bathroom. Even if I hadn’t been sitting in sunlight, I’d have glowed.
Joanne came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, grabbed her purse from under the counter and headed back; damage control tools, I figured. On her way, a customer at another table stopped her. The short hair, the look on his face when he looked my way, the way he sat, all said “off-duty cop”. Whatever he asked, Joanne emphatically shook her head, said a few words and touched her earrings, said a few more and touched her heart. He still looked sourly at me, kind of an “OK, but watch it” look, after Joanne went back into the bathroom. I didn’t mind a bit.
A little while later, Joanne came back out, but Christie stayed in; I guessed the physical damage was fixed, but Christie still wanted time to compose herself. Joanne marched over to me, and I was surprised to notice she looked angry.
“Damn it, Harry,” she said quietly, sliding into the other seat. “I thought I told you to take things slow and careful.”
“What did I do wrong?”
“The earrings, you idiot,” Joanne said fiercely. “Don’t you realize what you’ve done? That girl hasn’t had much love and affection in her life. Hell, hasn’t had any, from the way she talks. And you go be nice to her and care about her and rip apart her armor, and then go and do something really sweet like that and it knocked her off her feet. You own her now, if you want to. She’s going to see herself through your eyes from now on, and she needs to start seeing herself through hers.”
“You’ve got yourself a puppy now, Harry, and puppies take a lot of love and caring for. You for damned sure better be willing to step up to it, or you’re going to destroy her. And don’t even think about using the newspaper when she needs it; even a harsh voice will have her cringing and shaking. Damn it, Harry, you better be willing to see this through now.”
“I am, Joanne,” I said softly. “I know she’s hurting, even though she hasn’t told me the whys and wherefores yet. But it doesn’t matter. I love her, Flower Girl. God help me, I’m almost 50 and she’s just a little girl, but I do. I’m willing to see it through until she decides she doesn’t need me anymore.” My voice caught a little. “And I know in a few years, she probably won’t and she’ll be ready to move on to someone else. But I’ll be there for her as long as she wants me to be, and I’ll help her get ready for that next guy, and if he hurts her, I’ll rip his fucking throat out.” I stopped; my heart had risen in my throat and I couldn’t talk anymore.
That was the part I hadn’t admitted to myself yet, but realized it was true when I said it. Christie was 13. She might need me for now, but little girls grow up and change. In a few years, with a little help, she’d be ready to stand on her own and ready to move on, and probably would. And I’d lose the best thing to come into my life. But that’s what Heinlein meant- she couldn’t be happy with me forever, so it was up to me to help her find herself and find her own happiness. And seeing her be happy was worth it, even though I’d be lost and miserable.
Joanne’s expression softened a little, and she reached out and squeezed my hand.
“It might not work out that way, Harry, although I’ll be honest and admit you’re probably right. A guy your age and a girl hers might work for a little while, but it doesn’t often work out forever. As long as you know that, and you’re willing to let her go when she needs to go, I think she’ll be OK. Whether you will be or not…” She shrugged.
Christie came back just then, looking a lot happier although still a bit subdued. Joanne had done an excellent job at makeup repair, and although her eyes were still a little red, you had to look close to see they were a little puffy, too. I moved and she slid in, and the opals sparkled in her ears as she sat. She slid close when I sat down, slipped an arm through mine and rested her head on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry I’m such a crybaby, Harry,” she said. “But thank you again for the earrings. And thank you for being you.”
“So what time are your reservations, Harry?” Joanne asked. “I’m always hungry after I cry, and Christie’s got two to feed.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Our reservations are for 6, so we should probably get going. They’ll probably make us wait anyway, but at least we can be bored in a classy place instead of this dump.” I winked at her and turned to Christie. “Shall we jump in our phone booth, Bill?”
“That would be most righteous, Ted,” Christie answered. Joanne just rolled her eyes.
I’d barely gotten the car started and in gear when Christie’s hand was on my crotch, fumbling with my zipper.
“Find an empty parking lot or something, Harry. I’m going to give you the best blow job you’ve ever had to say thanks for these earrings.” I caught her hand and lifted it to my lips, kissing each fingertip.
“You really want to thank me for the earrings, pretty girl?” I asked, looking at her.
“Of course.”
“Then, don’t blow me.” She looked confused. “If you don’t blow me, that’ll show you understand that I got them because I wanted to give you a present because I like you, not because I expected anything. That you understand that I’m not trying to buy you or get anything from you. That it’s Christie that’s important to me, not Christie’s admittedly hot little body. That would be a very nice thank you.” Her lip started trembling and I could see her eyes starting to get wet. “And don’t start crying again, either, ‘cause Joanne can’t keep abandoning her customers to fix your face. Besides, the night’s young. You can still blow me later, as long as it’s an ‘I want to’ blowjob and not a ‘thank you’ blowjob.”
She gave a half-laugh, half-sob at that, but fought the tears down. I let up on the brake, backed out and pulled onto the street, concentrating on the after work, going home, get outta my way traffic. After a few minutes, Christie leaned over and put her head on my shoulder, and rested her hand on my thigh. It wasn’t in any way sexual, just a little loving human contact.
“How come you’re so nice to a slutty little cunt who was stupid enough to get herself knocked up at 13?” she said softly.
“I’m not,” I replied. “But I like to be nice to a sweet little lady who was, shall we say, comfortable with her sexuality at a young age, and who made a mistake. Or the condom broke, or whatever. Doesn’t matter. I like to be nice to you, because you’re a nice person. No matter what Lily says about you.”
She snickered at that, then sighed. “Oh, Harry. If you only knew the real me.”
“I’m working on it, honey. And I think I’ll like the real you just fine.” She sighed and squeezed my thigh, and was silent the rest of the trip.
Christie panicked when we reached Marvin’s. A limousine pulled up just as we turned in, and three couples in tuxedos and evening gowns got out, joining a small crowd of others standing outside in similar attire. Her head swiveled to stare at them as I looked for a parking space.
“Harry! We can’t go in there! I’m not dressed for a place like that, they’ll laugh at me. Let’s go somewhere else. Please?”
“It’s OK, Christie,” I tried to reassure her. “They’re probably here for a banquet or they’re all going somewhere afterward. Most of the people inside won’t be like that, and you look just fine. It’ll be OK, I promise. Besides, I don’t want to miss the chance to show up with the prettiest girl in the place.”
She wasn’t mollified much; holding onto my arm and pressed tight against me as we approached the door, I could feel her trembling. The formalwear crowd parted for us, and I noticed more than one pair of male eyes following Christie with approval; and more than one pair of female eyes looking disgustedly at the male eyes.
Once inside, we were greeted by a tuxedoed young maitre d’, an athletic-looking blond in his late 20’s with a nice tan and a warm smile. I was a little surprised, because I guess I’d been half expecting a prissy older guy with a pencil mustache, a fake French accent and a bad attitude- too much TV and bad movies, I suppose. I was willing to bet Christie was checking him out, but didn’t really want to look at her to be sure.
“Good evening, sir and miss. I’m Charles. How may I help you?” he asked as we stepped up to the check-in station, and glanced at both of us. I got the feeling that glance took in everything about us and recorded it for possible reference; this guy was good.
“Good evening, Charles. We have reservations for Potter,” I said. He tapped the computer screen and scanned down it for a moment.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Potter, reservations for two at 6.” He tapped the screen a couple more times, then said, “You’re a few moments early, but let’s go ahead and get you seated. I’m sure your daughter would like to get comfortable. If you’ll just follow me, please, Mr. and Miss Potter.”
As we did so, I heard Christie snicker and I glanced down at her. She was looking up at me and quietly whispered, “Daughter?”
I shrugged and whispered back, “You want to try to explain?” She grinned, shook her head, and squeezed my arm. 
Charles led us to a small booth with a rounded black leather bench circling a small table. He pulled the table out and allowed us to sit, then slid it back in at the perfect distance.
“Jason will be your server tonight, and he’ll be with you in just a moment. Our wine and cocktail list is here if you’d like,” he said, indicating a black leather folder at one side of the table. “We have an extensive list of non-alcoholic cocktails, as well as soda, if Miss Potter would prefer.”
“Thank you, Charles,” I said, extending a hand, “you’ve been very helpful.” We shook, and the folded $20 slipped gracefully from my hand to his and into his pocket. “It was nice of you to be so considerate of my daughter.”
 “My wife just had our third, Mr. Potter, so I’m well acquainted with sore feet and swollen ankles.” His smile grew a little more sincere and a little less professional. “And babies bouncing on bladders, too. Should you need it, Miss Potter, the rest rooms are around that corner,” he said, pointing.
“Thank you, Charles,” she said. “That will probably be quite handy to know.”
Charles left us, and Christie looked around, trying to act casual and sophisticated. She might have pulled it off if her eyes weren’t quite so big. I’d been right; the other patrons looked nice, but no one in formalwear was anywhere to be seen. Her outfit was classier than some, not as classy as others, and perfectly acceptable.
She looked down at the array of silverware spread neatly out from her plate and looked puzzled. “I’ve never been in a place like this before, Daddy,” she said, grinning at the word. “What’s with all this silverware?”
“Different things for different courses, my sweet daughter. The code is simple; start from the outside and work your way in. Salad fork first, and so on. When you’re done with a course, leave the silverware on your plate and grab the next one when they bring the next course.”
She sighed. “I don’t know much about being a lady; never had a reason to be classy before. Will you stop me if I do anything stupid?”
“Just pretend you’re a queen and the peasants are here to serve you and you’ll do just fine.” She grinned at that.
“Jolly good, Sir Daddy. Let them eat cake. No, let me eat cake, a big chocolate one with lots of gooey frosting.” We both laughed.
Jason brought our bread basket and waters a few moments later. He was young and I guessed he was probably a student working his way through the university. While not as tan or athletic as Charles, he still looked pretty buff, and this time I was sure Christie was checking him out. I felt a jealous pang, but it passed quickly. After all, she was with me for tonight, and if looking at Jason got her horny, I’d be the one to benefit, so let her look.
Jason introduced himself and asked if he could bring us something to drink. I’d had more than my share of alcohol for a while, so I asked for some iced tea; Christie did likewise.
“Very good,” Jason said. He handed a menu to Christie, opening it to the first page as he did so, then handed me mine. “If you’d care to look at the menu while I get that for you, I’ll be right back with your drinks.” I stopped him before he could leave.
“Jason, we’re due at the theater at 8, so I’d appreciate it if you would do what you could to avoid any delays.” Another $20 discretely left my hand.
“Of course, sir. I’ll keep things moving along so you won’t be late.” He bowed slightly and left.
“ ‘Due at the theater’? Pretty fancy way of saying we’re going to the movies,” Christie said with a grin.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” I asked, knowing full well I hadn’t. “I got us tickets to see Phantom of the Opera. Curtain’s up at 8.” Christie’s mouth dropped open, then she squealed and threw her arms around me.
“Oh, I’ve heard other girls talking about it, and I’ve wanted to see it for like forever, but I never thought I’d get to, and you’re like the best Daddy ever.” Some of the nearby patrons looked our way when she squealed, and smiled when they saw an indulgent and obviously proud Daddy treating his daughter to a night on the town. One older lady, perhaps in her late 70s or early 80s, smiled quite broadly at us, and winked at me. I smiled and winked back.
“If you’d like to let me breathe again, maybe we should look at our menus so we won’t be late.” She let me go, but not before giving me a quick peck on the cheek. She picked up her menu and started looking through it.
“Care for an appetizer?” I asked, scanning down the list. Christie shook her head.
“Nope, let’s just order dinner. I don’t want to be late for my very first theater date.”
“You’ve never been to a play before?” I asked.
“Nope, not unless you count stupid school plays when I was little.”
“No, I don’t think those count. You’ll like it, I bet.”
“I know I will, Ha- Daddy. ‘Cause you’ll be there, too.” I looked over into glowing eyes and a bright, bright smile. “Don’t pinch me, OK?”
“I wasn’t planning to, but why not?”
“’Because then I might wake up. And I don’t ever want to wake up from this.” Her lip trembled a little and her voice caught. “You’re way too nice, you know that?”
“Hey, now, no crying. I don’t think Jason knows how to fix makeup.” She laughed at that, and looked back at her menu.
There was a bit of commotion, and I looked up to see Charles leading the formalwear crowd into the restaurant. Quite a line of people passed near us as Charles took them into the banquet room in the back.
One older gentleman, with a salt-and-pepper mustache and a prunish-looking wife, looked our way and looked puzzled for a moment. Then his eyes widened in shock, and he hurriedly turned to start talking to his wife, keeping his head turned away from us until he was safely in the other room. Beside me, I heard Christie chuckle. I looked at her quizzically.
“I know that guy,” Christie said. “One time, I-“ and she stopped and flushed, looking down at her lap.
“It’s OK,” I said softly. “I know you’re not St. Christie. You can tell me if you want- sounds like there’s an interesting story there. And if you don’t want to tell it, don’t.” She nodded, and looked up at me again, speaking softly.
“I just don’t like to rub your nose in it, Harry, knowing how much those guys… how much the other day bothered you.”
“I’ve accepted that you are what you are, Christie, and I don’t want to change you. All those, um, experiences you’ve had are what make you you, and if you weren’t you, you never would have looked twice at some geeky old guy in a bookstore. And I wouldn’t be sitting here having a wonderful time with the prettiest and sexiest girl in the place.”
“Mom warned me about sweet talkers like you,” she said, with a big grin. “Good thing I never listen to her. OK, here’s the story, if you’re sure…” She paused and I nodded.
“I sucked that guy off behind a dumpster one time, while Lily spanked his butt,” she said quietly, so no one else could hear. “The whole time, he had his eyes closed and kept saying things like, ‘Suck your Daddy’s cock, Amy, Daddy wants to shoot his stuff in your hot little mouth’ and ‘Spank your Daddy good, Annie, I’m a bad, bad Daddy to do this to your sister.’” I snickered. “And when he was done, he laid down on the ground and asked us to piss on him.”
“Did you?”
“I didn’t, ‘cause I’m not into that kind of stuff. But…”
“Lily did,” we said together, and both started laughing. “She just stood over the guy, lifted her skirt and let fly right on his crotch. And while she was doing it, he got hard again and shot another load in the air. Some of it landed on Lily’s foot, so she wiped her shoe on his pants and we left him there.”
“And some people would call me a pervert,” I said, chuckling. “You should write a book. I bet it’d be a bestseller. If you could find anyone who’d publish it.”
“Lily’s the one who should write the book. But she’d never do that; it would take too much time away from collecting more stories for her book.”
I grinned and put my arm around Christie’s shoulders, pulling her in for a quick hug.
“Lily’s a law unto herself. Maybe you can tell me more stories some time. I want to know all about you.”
“Some of them are pretty funny,” she said. Her face clouded slightly. “And some of ‘em, not so funny.”
“Then let’s not think about those. Look, Jason’s bringing our drinks. Decided what to eat yet?”
She shook her head and picked up her menu again. “I’ve never even heard of half these things. What are you going to have, Daddy?” she asked, as Jason arrived with our tea.
“I’m not sure. Is there anything you’d recommend, Jason?”
“We have some excellent lobster tonight, Mr. Potter, as well as a very nice perch” Jason said. “And our prime rib is the best in town, if I may say so.”
“You feel like seafood, honey?” I asked. She shook her head.
“I like it, but Junior doesn’t,” she said, patting her tummy. “He gets even with me whenever I eat any.”
“How about the prime rib, then? Or pick whatever else you want, this is your special night.”
“Prime rib sounds good.”
“Two of them then, Jason. The rarer the better?” I looked at Christie for confirmation and she nodded.
“Very good, sir.” Jason took the rest of our order, topped off our barely touched water glasses from a pitcher, and left.
The rest of the meal was wonderful, Christie chattering away when she wasn’t demolishing everything put in front of her. About halfway through, the old lady who’d winked at us earlier passed our table on her way out, and stopped long enough to say, “You have a very lovely daughter, young man. It’s nice to see two people who so obviously enjoy each other’s company. You’re both very lucky.”
I thanked her, and she smiled and left. Christie looked pleased at being called lovely, then attacked her prime rib again.
She got up once during the meal to go to the bathroom- “Babies and bladders, you know?”- and I watched her cute little butt as she walked away, grinning (I’m sure) like an idiot. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so happy or content, or enjoyed an evening so much.
I couldn’t quite down all of my prime rib, but when I declined Jason’s offer of a take-away box, Christie said, “Slide it over here, Daddy. You always said don’t waste good food.” I grinned and carefully speared the remnants with a fork and transferred it to her plate.
Finally done, although I’m not sure that girl ever gets completely full, she leaned back and patted her stomach.
“Whoof. I don’t think I can move.” She burped another one of her longshoreman’s belches, and her hand flew to her mouth as she blushed scarlet. “Oops. Some classy date you have, huh?”
“Classiest in the place,” I said. “Feel like that chocolate cake and gooey frosting now?” She shook her head.
“I don’t think I’ll eat again for a week.”
“Does that mean I should cancel the wafflefest I had planned for the morning?”
“You’re going to take me out for waffles?”
“Nope, going to make them myself. It’s a secret family recipe handed down for generations. I’d tell you what’s in them, but then I’d have to kill you.” She grinned. “Or marry you.”
I hadn’t planned that one, and it slipped out before I could stop it. The grin dropped off her face fast, and her lower lip trembled as her eyes filled with tears.
“It’s not nice to tease me like that, Harry,” she quavered, as she slid out of the booth and hurried to the bathroom. I sat stunned for a moment, then started raging internally at myself, calling myself the kinds of names you’d only hear from a group of drunken sailors or 13-year-old boys. I’d blown it. A perfect evening so far, then one stupid smartass crack, and I’d fucked up the whole thing. I knew she didn’t want me getting serious, and I’d gone and scared her, and she’d come back and tell me she’d decided to spend the night at Lily’s after all, and she wouldn’t want to see me again, and I’d fucked it all up, you big stupid fucking asshole!
She wasn’t really gone for 10 years, it only seemed like it. When she came back, she was very quiet and subdued. I guess the makeup wasn’t fixable this time, because she’d washed it all off, and looked quite young and vulnerable.
As she sat down, I clutched her hand and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I just meant… it was…” She gave a half-hearted smile at my fumblings, and squeezed my hand.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Harry. Just mood swings again, you know? My fault.” She forced a little cheerfulness into her voice. “Now are we going to go see Phantom or have you had your fill of stupid girl for the evening?”
My heart rose a little from its resting place in the pit of my stomach, making it up to maybe navel height. “You still want to go?” She nodded. “Then let’s do it. As for my stupid girl quota, if we run into any, I’ll let you know.” She smiled at that, a real one, and my heart went back to its normal spot.
I waved Jason over.
“Is there something else I can get you, sir?” he asked. “Perhaps some dessert?”
“I think we’re full, Jason. It’s been a wonderful meal, and your service was excellent. Thank you very much for all you’ve done.”
“My pleasure, sir. I’ve enjoyed serving you and Miss Potter.”
“If you’ll just bring us our bill, we’ll be on our way.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr. Potter.” When I looked confused, he handed me a small slip of folded paper. “Your bill has already been taken care of. Perhaps this will explain it, sir.” He smiled and left.
I opened the paper. It was a piece of Marvin’s stationery with writing in a thin spidery hand. Christie read it over my shoulder.
Dear Mr. and Miss Potter;
I hope you will indulge an old lady and not be offended by what I’ve done. When I saw the two of you earlier, laughing and so obviously enjoying yourselves, I was reminded very strongly of my late husband Harold and our own daughter, Marilyn. It brought back many fond memories, some of which I hadn’t thought of in years. I’ve taken the liberty of taking care of your bill for the evening, as a way of saying thank you for making an old woman’s evening so much brighter. My Marilyn also had her first child at a quite young age. Perhaps you could buy the baby something nice as a present from me.
Again, thank you for reminding me of some of the happiest times in my life, and I’m sure this will also be a happy memory for the two of you.
Sincerely,
Madeline Sanders
That name rang a bell, and it suddenly clicked into place. Harold Sanders have been president of the University many years before, retiring during my junior year there. 
“What a sweet old lady!” Christie exclaimed. “Oh, I wish we could do something nice for her.”
“I think we did, honey, that’s why she paid. How about you forget-” I hesitated “what I just said, and we go back to making this a happy memory for the two of us?”
“OK, Harry,” she said seriously, looking into my eyes. “If you forget I acted stupid. And this is already one of the best times I’ve ever had.” She tried to look fierce, but it didn’t work very well on such a cute face. “Just don’t fuck it up again.” Her laugh took the sting out.
“Deal,” I said, and stuck my hand out. We shook, and left.
She was mostly silent on the way to the University Theatre Center, but she must’ve forgiven me, because she rested her head on my shoulder and her hand on my leg again. As we got closer, she started fidgeting and I could tell she was getting excited.
“Oh, Harry, this is going to be so completely cool,” she said as we parked. “Lily’s going to turn green when I tell her.”
“It’ll look good on her,” I said. “She’ll finally have some color in her face.” Christie giggled, and locked her fingers in mine as we walked in.
It was, as she said, a “completely cool” performance. I think I spent more time watching Christie than the play. She jumped and squeaked when the chandelier crashed, sighed at the love scenes, and clung tightly to my hand through the whole thing. At intermission, I tried to buy her a t-shirt, but she protested that I’d already spent too much on her. So I bought two instead, and told her we could wear them at the same time and look like some stupid middle-aged couple who think it’s cute to dress alike. She laughed and gave in and accepted it, along with a souvenir program.
When the house lights came up after the final crescendo, her eyes were shining, and I was afraid she was going to cry again.
“C’mon,” I said. “Let’s go see if we can get that program signed by some of the actors.”
There was a small group of them in the lobby, surrounded by people clutching programs and telling them how wonderful it had been. We got all of them to sign it, and when we got up to the actress who’d played Christine, she asked Christie’s name and smiled when she told her. “Just like my character, huh?” She scrawled something on the program, and signed it with a flourish. “Here you go, honey. Glad you liked us.”
As we walked to the parking lot, Christie stopped under a streetlight to read what she’d written.
“To one Christine from another: May your life be full and rewarding, and may you find the ever-lasting love Christine did.” Christie looked up at me, eyes bright and wet, and whispered, “I think maybe…” before the tears started gushing and I held her for a while before gently guiding her, still crying, to the car.
Happy memories indeed. (You don’t think holding a crying girl you adore and who has just- more or less- told you she loves you is a happy memory? What kind of life have you led, pal?)
I helped her into the car, then hurried around to my side, got in and dug through the console until I found a box of tissues. I handed them to her without saying anything, and rested my hand on her shoulder, occasionally squeezing gently, while she dabbed at her eyes and slowly settled down into gulping, then sniffling, then little shuddering breaths, and finally into quiet. She leaned over and put her head on my shoulder, and my arm went around her, and we just sat there in silence for a while. Every now and then, she’d sniffle or dab at her eyes. She finally spoke, low and quiet.
“How’s your stupid girl quota doing, Harry?”
“Still haven’t seen one, darling.”
“Yeah, you have. God, I haven’t cried this much in forever. I didn’t know I could cry this much in one night.” She dabbed at her eyes again. “Thank you, Harry. For the best evening of my life.”
“Mine too, Christie.” I kissed the top of her head. “I really do lo…” She hurriedly put her hand over my mouth.
“Don’t say it, Harry. If you say,” she hesitated, “the ‘L’ word, I’m going to start bawling again.”
“Oh no,” I said against her hand in mock terror. “Not more bawling! I don’t think I could stand any more bawling tonight.” She managed a chuckle at that, and pulled my head down for a fierce kiss.
“You’d better be able to stand more balling,” she said when she broke away. “Because I’m going to ball your ass off as soon as we get home… well, back to your place. Now start this car and let’s get moving.”
“Your command is my wish, milady.” As we pulled out of the parking lot, her head settled back on my shoulder and she reached down and started gently massaging my cock. I was hard as a rock before we reached the first light.
To this day, I’m not sure how I managed to get home without blowing a load in my pants. Christie massaged my dick the entire way, but maybe I held it in because it was a gentle, loving rub, not an urgent, “I’m gonna get you off” kind of rub. I slipped a hand down and started caressing her breast; she sighed and shifted a little to allow me better access.
I was happy, I was horny, I was at peace, I was ready to pull over and drag her into the back seat. Probably a good thing I have a small car and I’m not as limber as I used to be; I really wanted my darling in my arms in a proper bed this time, wanted to snuggle and cuddle naked with her afterwards.
Best of all, I felt loved and wanted and needed. It had been a long time since I’d had that feeling, and I’d forgotten just how wonderful it is.
When we pulled into the driveway, Christie sat up and looked around.
“This is a nice place, Harry.”
It was pretty small, actually, one of those throw-‘em-up-quick houses for returning soldiers that’d popped up all over America after World War II. I’d been a bachelor when I bought it, and figured I didn’t need a whole lot of room. It was still in good repair, though, and I fussed a little with the greenery outside so it looked nice, but I suddenly realized that it would be a bit small with Christie and the baby there too.
(Whoa! Where did THAT one come from, Harry?) (Straight from the heart, O inner voice of mine.) (You get that corn from a can, Harry?) (How come my inner voice suddenly sounds like Joanne?)
“Thanks,” I said. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
“It’s really nice. Lots nicer than my… well, a lot of places.”
We walked to the door hand in hand, and as I unlocked the front door and swung it open, I had to resist an urge to pick her up and carry her across the threshold. Then I decided what the hell, and scooped her up anyway.
“Harry,” she said, laughing, “what are you doing?”
“You played the daughter role pretty well earlier,” I said, looking into her eyes. “Want to play another role for the rest of the evening?”
Green eyes locked with mine, and she slowly brought one hand up to caress my cheek, while unspoken questions were asked, and unspoken promises made. Slowly, she nodded. I kissed her then and, lips still locked together, carried my darling across the threshold into the house and kicked the door closed.
Still holding and kissing my darling, I kicked off my shoes in the general direction of the corner. Still kissing and holding my darling, I carried her over to the couch and sat down, settling her sideways into my lap. My cock throbbed when her hard round butt settled on it. Our tongues were dancing in each others’ mouths, caressing each other, probing teeth, flicking over lips. I pulled her close and caressed her breast and she moaned into me, pushing her tit into my hand and grinding her butt on my cock.
I reluctantly let go of that firm little globe and began carefully unbuttoning her blouse. I undid the first two and exposed her neck and leaned in to shower little kisses and licks on it. I undid two more and exposed her bra, black, frilly, lacy and low cut. I liked it and my cock twitched; it liked it, too. I kissed her collarbone, and down to her cleavage. Christie shivered, one hand stroking the back of my head, the other on my shoulder.
Two more buttons undone (how many buttons does this thing have, anyway? Didn’t matter, I was enjoying the journey), and I slipped my hand inside and rubbed her swollen belly; Junior greeted me by rolling over with a sudden lurch, bringing an “oof” and a small giggle from Christie. I lifted my lips from her chest long enough to say, “Behave, kid; this is Mommy’s night”, then went back to running my tongue slowly along her upper chest, tracing from the edge of one breast to the other, then slowly traveling back.
I undid the last two buttons (finally!), and slowly pulled the blouse apart and down off her shoulders. I turned her so her back was to me and nuzzled and kissed her neck before working my way out to one shoulder, while my hand slid caressingly down her arm and undid the button at the cuff. Buttons, I discovered, as the sleeve slid part way down her hand and stopped. I went back to her neck for a while, while she tilted her head forward and sighed, then worked out to her other shoulder and took care of the other cuff. I slipped the shirt off and laid it carefully on the coffee table; I was sure Lily would like it back in good shape.
We just cuddled for a few minutes then, her back to my chest, my arms wrapped around her middle, her arms atop mine and her hands clutching my wrists. I rested my head on her shoulder and nuzzled her ear, and her head tipped forward while she softly murmured my name. Junior got into the act again by wiggling around, and I swear I felt his head against my palm. I rubbed it gently.
“Just wait, kid. Things are going to get really rough for you shortly.”
Ever heard a sensuous, aroused woman giggle? I liked it.
I slid my hands up, right hand cupping her left breast, left hand cupping her right, and she kept her arms atop mine so it was as if we were both squeezing and caressing her tits. Those long hard nipples tried to poke through my palms, a sensual crucifixion. I released them long enough to fumble at the catch on the front of the bra, then slid it off her and brought my hands back to cup her bare tits again. They were a little bigger than my hands, just the size I like and they were warm and firm and oh so nice.
I slid my hands down to her waist while kissing my way down her spine, then gently pushed upward. Christie took the hint and stood. I ran my hand along the top of the skirt, searching in vain for a few seconds before Christie whispered throatily, “It’s in front, Harry.” Sliding my hand around her, stopping every couple of inches to caress her, I finally found the button and undid it, and let the skirt fall to the floor.
She hadn’t lied; she wasn’t wearing any panties.
I ran my hands down those smooth firm thighs, while I kissed lower down her back and to her crack. Moving slightly to the side, I kissed the top of one ass cheek, then ran my tongue across her butt and kissed the top of the other. I bent further over, showering little kisses on alternate hips as I worked my way lower, finally running my tongue along the little grooves where her butt curved back in and met the top of her legs.
Christie was cooing and shivering now, and since the house had been closed for hours on a warm spring night, I know she wasn’t cold.
Hands on her waist again, I pushed her slightly forward so I had room to stand, then turned her so she was facing me. I bent to kiss her lips, and her arms came up around my neck and pulled me down fiercely, hungrily, and our tongues started dancing again while I pulled her tightly to me and she thrust her hips forward so she could get her crotch past her belly and rub my throbbing cock. One of her legs came off the floor and wrapped around the back of mine and I bent slightly, knees spread on either side of her, and rubbed my dick into the heat of her pussy. I finally pulled my head back and whispered, “Wait for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
She groaned and grabbed my ass, pulling my cock harder against her needy cunt. “No, don’t leave. I want you right here, right now.”
I shook my head. “No, my darling wife for the night. I have one more surprise for you.” I reached down and slid my finger along her heated, saturated slit, stopping to tickle the hard bump at the top. She gasped into my mouth and groaned in frustration as I pulled it away, but let me go.
I hurried into the bedroom and flipped on the light, then fumbled through my pockets- where the hell had I put that lighter? I finally found it and lit the half-dozen candles I’d placed around the room, including a scented bayberry one I’d found in the back of one of the bathroom cupboards. I turned the sheets and blanket back, thought about undressing but then decided I’d rather have Christie do it for me. As the smell of bayberry began wafting through the room, I looked around, decided everything was perfect, turned off the light and left, not quite closing the door.
Back in the living room, Christie was still standing where I left her, fidgeting from one foot to the other, scratching Traveler behind the ears with one hand and lightly stroking her pussy with the other. I smiled at her, and she leaped over the couch and grabbed me, plastering her mouth to mine again.
“OK, husband of the evening,” she growled when we came up for air. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to pull a Lily and find someone who will.”
“The people next door have a Schnauzer that’s really friendly,” I teased.
“Aargh!” she cried, and punched me in the arm. “Men!”
I laughed and picked her up in my arms again, and she whooped in surprise. I kissed her mouth, her nose, her forehead and her eyelids and back to her soft, sweet mouth again before murmuring softly, “Come with me, Mrs. Potter.”
“Anywhere, Mr. Potter.”
I carried her down the short hall and told her to close her eyes. She did and I pushed the door open with my foot. There was a brief comedic moment as I tried to turn her in the narrow hall and get both of us through the doorway without banging her head on anything, and then we were inside. I closed the door with my foot and then turned her so she was facing into the room.
“OK, you can open them now.” She did, and those bright green eyes got big and round as they swept the room, and they were wet when they came back to mine.
“Do you like making me bawl?” she asked, hugging my neck so hard I thought it might snap.
“You betcha. You promised to ball my ass off, remember?” She grinned as a few stray tears leaked out of her eyes.
“Then you better put me down on that bed so I can get started, Harry.” I carried her over, smiling so wide my face hurt, as she rained little kisses on my neck and chin and nose. When I got to the bed, I realized I’d picked her up wrong; if I laid her down, her feet would be on the pillow. And there wasn’t really enough room on the other side to squeeze through with her in my arms. I settled for gently lowering her feet to the bed so she was standing; for once, my darling was taller than me.
And that worked out quite nicely, because it brought those luscious firm breasts to just the right height. Good thing I wear glasses or I might’ve lost an eye that night.
I sucked a long hard nipple into my mouth, and gently clamped onto it with my teeth as I ran my hands down, around and over that tight firm butt. My fingers came together in the middle, and I ran them down the crack of her ass, the backs of my fingers touching. I squeezed and kneaded their muscular firmness, their silky soft skin, their incredibly arousing roundness. One hand started sliding back up while the other continued down, stopping to rub a finger on her tight little anus.
And while one finger rubbed at her back door, seeking pleasure but not entry, the other hand slid around to the front and glided down the smooth skin of her stomach and abdomen, seeking the light patch of damp fur between her legs. I moved my mouth to her other tit, and treated it to the same nibbling, licking and sucking the first one had gotten.
My darling Christie has always been a slippery little wench, juicier than any other woman I’ve ever known. Her pussy lips dripped with it, and her thighs and even her lower belly (from when I carried her) were slick and hotly damp. I tickled along her outer lips, feeling the juices start to drip a little faster. I tickled along the inner lips, slicking my finger with her hot pungency. I placed a finger over her hole and pushed gently, not trying to get it in but just stimulating that tight little ring of pleasure.
By this time, Christie was moaning and wiggling, and it felt like her little pussy hole was trying to reach out and grab my finger and pull it in, but I was having none of it. My darling had given me a great deal of pleasure this evening, and I was going to make sure she got her share too; no quickies tonight. I hadn’t counted on Christie having other ideas.
She gasped and pulled herself back away from me, retreating to the middle of the bed.
“Oh, Harry, the things you do to me,” she said, panting and flushed. “But it’s not fair. You keep making me feel so good and so special, and you keep making me the center of attention, and I love it, and it’s wonderful, and I cum so good with you, but-” And she stopped, pointing her finger at me, then slowly walking across the bed like a lioness stalking her prey. “Tonight, Mr. Potter, it’s all about you and your pleasure. And no, it’s not for ‘thank you’. It’s because I want to, because you make me feel very happy, and very horny, and for once in my goddamn fucked-up life, very wanted.”
She grabbed my head and shoved her tongue in so far I thought she was trying to lick my cock from the inside. I brought my hands up to massage her tits again, but she slapped them away, still tonguing me fiercely and mashing her lips into mine. Her hands came up and slid my suit coat off my shoulders and down my arms, and she tossed it toward the closet without breaking lip contact.
Those small, soft, warm hands next ran up under my light pullover sweater, raising it and tracing over the contours of my stomach and sides until they reached my nipples. She placed her palms over them and slowly rubbed it across them while spreading her fingers apart to rub the area just under my shoulders. I’ve never been particularly aroused by having my nipples played with, but I’d never had Christie playing with them. Her soft slow sensual rub brought them to two hard points, and some loose wiring between them and my cock spontaneously reconnected; a small dollop of precum rose up and popped out that little slit in the end, disappointed to find itself wasted in cotton underwear.
Christie’s hands played with my nipples for a while, then she broke our liplock and lowered her mouth to lightly kiss each one before sliding her hands to the sides and grabbing the bottom of the sweater. She leaned down to kiss my stomach, then kissed her way up the middle of my chest as she raised the sweater higher. I pulled my arms out and rested one hand on her butt and the other behind her head; she didn’t slap them away this time. She slid the sweater up over my head and left my face covered for a few moments while she kissed me from shoulder to shoulder, nuzzled and licked the hollow of my throat, bent slightly to lick each nipple, then slowly and carefully pulled the sweater off and threw it after the coat.
Her hands came up to my chest and she pushed gently, letting me know I should back up so she could climb down off the bed. Running her hands softly down the back of my legs, she knelt and tugged gently on one ankle; my foot came up and the sock came off. A gentle tug on the other ankle and the other sock did too. She pushed my pant legs up a short way and ran her hands slowly and softly up and down my calves while she showered small light kisses up and down my thighs, carefully avoiding the prominent bulge at my crotch.
Christie brushed her hard nipples across my stomach and chest as she slowly slid up my body and kissed me again, light and sensuous, the barest pressure of mouth on mouth. Wrapping her arms around me, she gave me a tight hug, then let go. She slipped around behind me, and I could feel those nipples poking into my back as she gave me another tight hug. Her hands roamed up and down my chest and stomach, stopped to rub my nipples, poked mischievously into my navel. Finally, they slid down to my belt and gently tugged the end out of the loops, unhooked the buckle and pulled the strap out.
She wasn’t done teasing me, though. Instead of unfastening anything, her hands slid down the sides of my thighs and she gently caressed them while she pressed herself into me from behind and kissed my neck and shoulders. Grabbing my hips at the waist to balance herself, she slowly raised one leg, sliding it up my leg, her foot turned and rubbing my calves as she pressed tight against me. When her knee reached waist height (hers, not mine), she slid her calf around the front of my leg and slid it slowly back down, ending by brushing her foot across mine. She repeated it with the other leg, slowly and sensuously.
Backing up slightly, she ran her hands down my hips, then brought them together in back and squeezed my ass gently. She rubbed up and down, whispering, “You have a nice butt, Harry.” Then they slid back around my waist, and she pressed herself into my back again, and allowed one hand to brush lightly over my hard cock, which throbbed and begged to be released from its cotton prison. She squeezed it gently, slid down to caress my balls oh so feathery soft lightly, then slid her hand back up and across my throbbing, begging, whining dick and grabbed the pull on my zipper between thumb and forefinger. Her other three fingers spread out across the front of my pants and slowly, ever so agonizingly slowly, almost one pair of teeth at a time slowly, she slid the zipper down. Those fingers slid ever so slowly down my leaking dick until the zipper was open and her fingers were cupping my nuts. Slowly, they tightened, until another sticky glob of precum throbbed out into cotton oblivion.
“Turn around, Harry,” she ordered, releasing me and stepping back a pace. I did; I was feeling so light-headed from arousal that I staggered slightly. Her mischievously twinkling green eyes looked up at me as she grasped the fastener of my pants. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Ooooh, GOD yes,” I managed. Grinning madly, she raised herself and kissed me lightly.
“Good. But just wait and see what else your obedient little wifie for the night has in mind for you. The best is yet to come. And so are you.” And with that, she slowly squatted down, kissing and licking my nipples, my chest, my navel, hand still just holding onto my pants.
Once on her knees, she spread the opening of my zipper with her other hand and my tented shorts bulged out to fill it. She leaned forward and kissed my cock through my briefs; it throbbed in appreciation. Grinning, she unfastened my pants and let go; I’m thin enough that they dropped to the floor without assistance. (Christie says she likes my butt, but there’s really not that much of it to like- more of a back with a crack in it than anything.)
My erection pushed the front of my briefs out, and opened up both leg holes. Christie took advantage of this by sliding both her hands up the openings, being frustratingly careful to avoid touching my cock or balls. She caressed the area over my hip bones, coming tantalizingly close to what I hoped was her eventual goal, but never quite reaching it. Kneeling, she began kissing and licking my thighs, running her tongue up almost to my crotch before heading back down.
My knees were beginning to shake by now, and Christie finally relented. Swiveling her wrists around, she grasped the top of my shorts and slowly pulled them down, giggling as she jerked her head back to avoid being slapped when my freed cock sprang up. I lifted my feet one at a time so she could slide them off, and she offhandedly threw them over her shoulder. Remembering the candles, she looked back to see where they’d landed, but they were safe, so she turned back and gently pushed on my stomach, saying, “Sit.”
The sheets felt very nice, cool and crisp against my ass and the back of my thighs. Christie scooted forward and rested her left arm on my leg, reaching up to lightly pinch my nipple. Wiggling around into a more comfortable position, she rested her head on her arm, face just inches from my cock, which greeted her with another dollop of precum. She brought her free hand up and placed just one finger on top of the head, and pushed down and over, bringing it closer. Her mouth opened and another small glob appeared in anticipation. Her tongue stretched out as she continued pushing it closer. And then she let go and giggled when it bounced back up and out of reach.
I let out the breath I hadn’t known I was holding. “Oh, you little tease,” I moaned. She grinned up at me.
“Yup. Lots more fun that way.” Still grinning, she reached out again but this time put her finger on the sensitive underside just under the head and slowly rubbed back and forth, coaxing yet another small blob out of the slit. This time, she bent forward and caught it with her tongue, then flicked her tongue up and down the slit, seeing if she could coax out any more. She could.
I’ve never been that much of a “leaker”, but I sure was tonight. I was beginning to wonder if, by the time I finally shot my load, there’d be any load left to shoot. The last time I’d “dry cum” was when I was 11, and if I remembered right, they weren’t nearly as much fun as the real thing. Although, I was almost willing to bet that with Christie they would have been.
While this thought flashed through the big head, Christie was still teasing the little one. The tip of her tongue replaced the tip of her finger on that oh-so-sensitive spot under the head, leaving her finger free to begin stroking up and down the length of my shaft. Mostly, it was keeping my dick near her mouth, because whenever she licked, it twitched and tried to pop up out of reach. (Foolish penis, why are you trying to get away? You like this.)
Years later, late one night when I was in an introspective mood, I sat and thought about what made Christie such a wonderful lover. I realized it was because she was so generous about giving her partner pleasure. So many people are so wrapped up in their own horniness that they don’t really care that much about how their partner’s reacting. Oh, they do the obligatory “touch here,” “lick that,” “kiss this” kind of thing, but they’re not really paying attention to their partner; they’re too busy trying to get their own cum. Part of it was just in her nature; Christie liked making people feel good. Part of it, in the early years, was from her own insecurities; if you liked what she did, you’d like her, too.
I certainly liked what she was doing. And, I’d realized days before, I certainly loved her, and would have even if she wasn’t such a wonderful lover. Hell, I’d have loved her even if her idea of sex was Saturday night, after the kids are in bed, leave the lights off, get on, get done, get off. But Christie could never be like that; she loved the act too much, and loved me too much, and (eventually) loved herself too much to ever view sex as anything other than a glorious sharing between two (or sometimes more) people. Once, that is, she stopped viewing it as the only way to convince herself that someone could actually care for her.
But, I digress.
Christie opened her mouth, moved her head forward slightly, and closed her lips around just the head, then started slowly and lovingly licking it, top, bottom, sides, slit. Freed from trying to keep my cock in check, her hand teasingly tickled my pubic hair and the base of my shaft. Waves of pleasure rolled out of my crotch and swept up to the hand still squeezing and teasing my nipple, then washed on up through my head and rebounded down to my toes. I could feel my balls starting to tighten and knew I wouldn’t last much longer.
Christie knew I wouldn’t either, but she was far from done with me. So, she caught the base of my shaft between thumb and forefinger and squeezed, just enough to be slightly painful. It didn’t really hurt that much, but was distracting enough that my need to cum receded. She continued just holding my cock head with her lips and bathing it with her tongue, and I don’t think I’d ever been that aroused before.
She quit squeezing and slowly ran her hand up my shaft until she touched her lips, then slowly ran it back down. Then she left her hand in place, squeezed her lips a little tighter and slowly bobbed her head down until my pubes tickled her nose, then just as slowly drew back to the tip. She continued this hand/head alternate stroking until I was once again on the point of cumming, then squeezed again until I relaxed; I hadn’t realized it, but I’d been clenching my ass cheeks, trying to shove my cock forward and deeper down her throat.
“God, Christie,” I managed to say, my voice squeaking slightly. “How do you do that? I don’t think anyone has ever made me feel this good, ever.” She smiled around my cock, then bit it lightly and playfully and took her mouth off.
“Told you I was going to give you the best blowjob you ever had, didn’t I?” she said. “Like it so far, Mr. Potter?”
“Oh, I do indeed, Miss…” and it suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea at all what Christie’s last name was. I looked at her quizzically.
“It’s Moore,” she said, catching the question but looking slightly disappointed and hurt. “But I thought I was Mrs. Potter for the night?”
I put a hand under her chin and tugged slightly, saying, “C’mere and kiss me.” She rose up on her knees and gave me a light quick kiss, but I wasn’t going to let her get away with that. I pulled her close and gave her a long, passionate kiss, trying to pour into it all the love I was feeling. We kissed for a geologic age, her hand softly and slowly stroking my cock the whole time. I finally pulled back a little and looked deep into those beautiful green 
“For tonight, Mrs. Potter,” a quick kiss, “for tomorrow, Mrs. Potter” another quick kiss, “for as long as you want, Mrs. Potter.” And we kissed for another geologic age, her soft little hand stroking me the while. It was Christie who broke the kiss this time, laying her head on my chest and whispering, “Be careful, Harry. I might hold you to that.”
“As long as you hold me to you, too, Christie dear.” She sniffled a little at that, and I thought I felt a little dampness on my chest. She looked up at me, eyes shining.
“Damned lucky for you I think I’m cried out for the night. Now where was I?” With that, she squatted back down and took my cock in her mouth again. And this time, she was going to let me cum.
Her hand, which had been slowly stroking me this whole time and keeping me harder than I could ever remember being, slid down to the base of my shaft and lifted my cock so it pointed up. She kissed the head, then licked slowly down the tube on the underside. When she reached her hand, she skipped over it and kissed both my balls, then took first one and then the other into her mouth and sucked gently. I could feel them starting to tighten and undoubtedly so could she, but she kept sucking them alternately.
When they were so tight against my crotch they were trying to get back inside, she took my cock back in her mouth and started bobbing up and down, fast and furious. Her nose bumped my pubic bone on the downstroke and my cock slid almost all the way out on the upstroke, but she kept up a steady pressure, sucking and bobbing, tongue sliding along the bottom, head entering her throat. I don’t know how many times she stroked me with her mouth, but it wasn’t very many, and I erupted like the biggest volcano in the world.
Jet after jet of cum shot out of my cock and splattered her throat. Christie jammed herself down to the root, opened her throat and swallowed it all. My ass came up off the bed and I screamed, but Christie stayed with me, throat muscles stroking the head as she swallowed. I pumped my ass, unable to stop though I knew it must be hurting her, until finally I collapsed back. And still her mouth wrapped my cock, sucking the last of my cum out of my throbbing dick.
Time stopped, and I lay there forever. Little aftershocks caused my cock to pulse in her mouth, and I may or may not have dribbled more out, but I was exhausted, paralyzed, empty. Finally, blessedly, her mouth released me, and I vaguely felt her crawl onto the bed next to me, and rest her head on my chest. After a long timeless time, I was finally able to (sort of) move again. I raised my arm, finger pointing up; what small part of my brain still worked noted that it was shaking like an October leaf.
“OK,” I gasped out hoarsely. “Your turn.”
Christie raised her head and looked at me, incredulous. And then she snorted. And then she giggled. And then she roared with laughter, rolling around on the bed with tears streaming down her face. I tried to join her, but the best I could do was a rasping wheeze.
Wiping tears from her eyes and still snickering, she rolled back over to me and looked down into my face. “And just what do you think you’re going to do, Harry? That” and she pointed to my totally limp but still drooling cock “isn’t getting hard again any time soon, and you couldn’t lick an ice cream cone if I put it in the microwave first. Just what did you have in mind?”
“This,” I said, raising my still trembling hand. “Just stick a finger in and the way it’s shaking, you’ll cum in no time. Think of it as a digital vibrator.” She looked at me in horror, groaned and collapsed back on the bed.
“OK, that’s it, I’ve lost my touch. I blow the man so hard cum shoots out my ass, and he still has the strength to make bad puns. I’ve lost it, it’s over, I’ll never give another blowjob again.”
I managed a wheezy little chuckle. “No, no, don’t stop,” I managed to gasp. “I’m looking forward to another one of those- about 10 years from now, when I can get it up again.” She snickered, and her hand reached out and rubbed my chest.
“That’s what I like about you, Harry,” she said. “Well, one of the things. You’re not only fun, you’re funny, too.” I felt her roll, then kiss the top of my head. “And, you don’t need to worry about it. You were so hot, I came when you did, and I wasn’t even touching myself. Haven’t done that in a long time, but it was a good one.”
We lay there for a long time, me flat on my back with my legs still draped over the side of the bed, Christie moving up against the headboard and lifting my head so it rested against her leg, her hand holding mine and occasionally squeezing it. After a while, my breathing became somewhat more normal, my heart quit trying to beat its way out of my chest, and other than an infrequent tremor, I quit shaking.
“Christie?” I asked softly.
“Yes, Harry?”
“You said you were cried out for the night, right?”
“Probably.” She sounded wary, and I think she tensed slightly. “But if anyone can start me up again, it’s you. Why?”
I managed to find the strength to pull myself onto the bed and lay next to her. (Yep, she was looking wary and a little worried.) I pulled the top sheet over us and snuggled in next to her, and she rolled so we were facing, arms wrapped around each other. She was staring at me intently.
“Why do you ask, Harry?”
I kissed her forehead. “Because I know it bothers you for some reason, and you find an excuse to dance away every time I get close to it, but I’d really, really like to.”
“What, Harry?” She looked more puzzled than worried now.
“Would it be OK if I used ‘the L word’?” She stiffened, but didn’t say anything. She lay there, eyes locked with mine, boring into my brain in search of… just what, I wasn’t sure. Finally, warily, she spoke.
“You don’t have to, Harry.”
“I want to.”
“We haven’t known each other all that long, and there’s a lot about me you still don’t know.”
“It’s been long enough, and I can’t imagine anything you could tell me that would change it. And I have a pretty vivid imagination.”
“I’m not really sure I could say it back.”
“You don’t have to. Oh, hell, if it bothers you that much, I won’t. But I’d sure like to.”
She scooted down a little on the bed, snuggling into me with her head on my chest where I couldn’t see her face and was silent for a minute.
“OK, Harry,” she finally whispered. “If you really want to, and if you’re really sure. And I mean really, really sure.” I hugged her tighter.
“I am. I love you, Christie. You’re everything I’ve ever…” Her hand came up and covered my mouth.
“No more, Harry. I’m not ready for anything more. That was hard enough. It’s really hard for me to accept stuff like that, and… just don’t push for now, OK?”
“OK,” I said, and kissed the top of her head. “Let me go blow out the candles, and we can get some sleep, alright?” She nodded and rolled away from me.
I snuffed all the candles and carefully felt my way back to the bed. When I crawled back in, she snuggled up to me again, and we fell asleep with her head and arm on my chest, leg thrown over mine, my arm curled around her. I’m not sure if I dreamed it, wished it, or actually heard it, but I’d swear at some point I heard a small scared voice softly whisper, “I love you, too.”