~Subject: "Kris" m/f love/romance
~From: drambo@cloud9.net (Dawson Rambo)

                  * * * * * * * * * * * * *
                           "Kris"
                       By Dirty Dawg

   Basic male/female love story. Should not be offensive to many,
except those extreme perverts (of which I am one!) on a.s.s that
expect all various and sundry twists. Sorry, gang..no midget clown
yak herders in this story...

                  * * * * * * * * * * * * *

   It was a fine summer evening, a Friday. The sun still had two
more hours of hang-around time, and the gentle breeze wafting in
from the west filled the air with the scents of summer...cut grass
and honeysuckle. The radar unit sitting on the dash of my patrol
car showed a steady "00" as no one was using County Route 2, my
assigned post for violators duty. Write tickets, they told me. Lots
of them. So I sat here and waited. On most days, I could write
three tickets an hour, and that kept my sergeant happy. Friday
nights, though, this road was quiet, because it led further up
county, in the opposite direction of the city where everyone wanted
to go. I used the time to daydream and think and just kind of take
a break from a hectic week. Summer Fridays were the best, because
of the weather ( I despise cold weather! ) and the general laid-
back attitude of everyone. The green blur that went by my
windshield shocked me back to reality. I was already turning the
key before I checked the radar readout. I didn't need it to tell me
that the driver was speeding, but I was slightly curious as to how
much this particular driver was going to be 'donating' to the
county coffers. Seventy-eight in a forty. A least a hundred bucks,
I thought, gunning the motor and hitting the switches for the
lights and sirens. My roof rack came alive, as did my high-beams,
alternating with the red grille lights. The car sped up, and I
dropped the hammer. I was reaching for the radio microphone when
something stayed my hand. Normally, procedure requires that I call
for backup when a pursuit situation arises, but something told me
not to. The driver wasn't running...really, just speeding up a
little. County Route Two is a windy, twisty little road that
stretched for another six miles, and I kept right on the car's
tail, taking every turn like Mario Andretti. I was just enjoying
the ride, not worrying too much, because something told me the
driver was just...playing. The car wasn't making a serious attempt
to evade me, it just wasn't pulling over. The other car, I noted,
was a Porsche Cabriolet Turbo, and could have easily left me in its
dust. The county line was fast approaching, and at our current
speed, we would close the last half mile in under fifteen seconds.
With three seconds to spare, my speeder hit the brakes, her rear
lights filling my windshield as the car pulled to the side of the
road. Again, I would normally have run the plate through the NCIC
from the terminal in my patrol car, but that small voice told me
that I wouldn't need to, that the car would come back clean. I
wasn't sure what was going on here, but I knew that it wasn't what
it had appeared to be at first glance. I wasn't stupid, though. I
put the take down lights on, flooding the car in front of me with
with several hundred thousand watts of aircraft-grade lights. I
worked the thumbreak of my holster so that my Baretta 92F would be
within easy grasp, should things turn ugly. I approached the car
slowly, watching for any sudden movement. "You were going at quite
a clip," I said, loudly. And then, from the driver's side window,
came a voice from my past. "Hey, copper! You'll never take me
alive!" And then came the giggle. And then came the memories.

                                * * *

   Kris...Kris was the girl of my past, of my youth. She came into
my life at that time between boyhood and manhood when I was still
discovering who I was going to be in this world. I was 13 when Kris
moved in next door to me. She was 12, the daughter of an Army
officer assigned to Fort Stern. Even at 13, I knew that when it
came to the fairer sex, I was not what was considered boyfriend
material. Some of my friends had begun to go on dates, attend
makeout parties...all those wonderful rituals of growing up that,
for some reason, I had been excluded from. The girls my age all
dated boys a year or two older. The girl I could date, as it were,
were a year or two younger...and none of them wanted to date me, or
go into the closet to play Post Office with me, and my invitations
to the neighborhood Spin the Bottle games got lost in the mail, I
guess. So when Kris moved in next door, you could say that I was a
little bit excited. Our houses were set off from the rest at the
end of a winding, grassy cul-de-sac, and I knew that I might have
a day or two to get into her good graces before she explored beyond
the boundaries of our two properties, before the other girls in the
area poisoned her mind. Looking back on those days, I remember
thinking that it was a lost cause anyway. The first time I saw Kris
I knew that I didn't stand any kind of a chance with her anyway.
She was too beautiful, to perfect to be satisfied with a pogue like
me. She was so...sweet and innocent and perfect. Tall for a girl,
even at 12, standing five and a half feet and seemingly growing
more every day. Long blonde hair that she wore in a bobbing
ponytail that just added to her almost magical allure, wide-set
blue eyes the color of the ocean on a stormy day. Her voice was
slightly husky, almost man-like. Her laughter was a song that the
birds in the trees themselves envied. I know it sounds like I
idolized her, and to a certain degree, that is true. Kris was more
of a tomboy than I realized at first. She liked wearing jeans and
sneakers and t-shirts. She kept her hair pinned up under a baseball
cap that she always wore. One of the great pleasures of my young
life was watching her take that cap off and shaking her long,
golden hair out. She always looked like a goddess to me when she
did that, some magical metamorphosis taking place that turned her
from a dusty, baseball-playing, tree-climbing, insect-catching,
frog-racing tomboy into a vision of young beauty and innocent
perfection. Kris showed up two weeks into the summer, and to my
complete surprise, we became fast friends. Best friends, as a
matter of fact. The Orioles were our favorite team, and by mutual,
unspoken agreement, we would listen to every game together, either
on the radio, or watching the night games at one or the other's
house. I saved my allowance and bought her a fitted Orioles cap as
a present. It became her pride and joy, and she wore it everywhere.
Seeing her in that cap, and seeing the fat lip she gave Bobby
Chambers when he stole it off her head made me feel proud. Kris and
I spent that first magical summer together, doing all the things
kids do together. Climbing trees, taking long walks in the woods,
spending entire afternoons flat on our backs, staring at the
clouds, talking about Important Things like Life and Love and The
Meaning Of Everything. She had little time for Love, she told me.
She thought she was ugly and fat. That was about as far from the
truth as you could get and still speak English, and I didn't
hesitate to tell her so. She thanked me, but I could tell by her
expression that she didn't believe me. As I got to know Kris
better, I also understood a little of why she was the way she was.
An only child, it was obvious to me that her father had wanted a
son. The way he talked about Kris, the way he treated her, made me
hate him quickly. He called her "TuffStuff," and was constantly
treating her like he would a son. He once told her, in front of me
no less, that she had better learn a trade, because no guy was
going to want to marry her, ever. I saw the hurt and the shame in
Kris's eye, and I wanted to punch and kick and bite her father
until he apologized. The fact that her father was a US Army Ranger,
a Major in command of an entire Battalion, made me reconsider my
actions. The man was huge; he could have snapped me in two with his
little fingers. The summer ended, and school began. One of the
first social events of the year was the Sadie Hawkins turnaround
dance. When I saw the posters going up in the hallway, I got a
little depressed and morose. I knew there weren't going to be any
girls shyly coming up to me, wondering if I would say yes. That's
just the way my existence was. When the girls went down the mental
lists as to who they would ask, my name just never came up. Kris
and I were still close, but she had found some other friends, and
we didn't spend as much time together as we'd used to. It was hard,
but I took great pains not to let her know how much I missed her.
She needed to have other friends, I felt, other, more popular
friends, lest her entire school social life be ruined by her
association with me, the outcast. So you can imagine my surprise
when Kris asked me to go to the dance with her. I accepeted
immediately, and instantly began wondering what was behind the
invitation. Kris explained, haltingly, that she wanted to go to the
dance badly, but didn't know any boys well enough to ask, and was
sure that anyone she did ask would have turned her down. So I kind
of won by default. She was glad, she said, that she was going with
'a friend,' and that she would be able to meet people there. The
phrase 'a friend' rang in my head like the death knell of my social
life. I understood what the parameters of the evening and of our
relationship were, and just gave silent thanks that I was going
with someone. It was at that point that I knew I was in love with
Kris. Quietly, desperately...but still in love. The night of the
dance will stand out in my memory for the rest of my life. I put on
my best clothes, what might have been called "Sunday Clothes" had
my family been religious. I went over to Kris's house to pick her
up, and knocked on the door. There was a wait of perhaps thirty
seconds, and then the door opened. Kris stepped quickly out and
shut it behind her. I turned at the sound, and felt my breath
leaving me, my throat locking. Gone were the jeans and t-shirts.
Gone was the by-now dusty Orioles cap I'd given her seemingly a
thousand years ago. Gone was the rubber-banded ponytail she wore to
school most mornings. Replaced, instead, by a stunningly beautiful
little girl wearing a gorgeous royal blue party dress. It came down
to just below her knees. Her long blonde hair had been washed and
brushed, and it cascaded around her shoulders and neck like waves
of hand-spun gold. "What?" she asked, seeing my dumbfounded
expression. "You..you're beautiful!" I managed to croak out. Kris
punched me in the shoulder. Hard. "Shut up!" she said, but there
was the smallest hint of a smile in her voice. "Don't say that.
It's not true." I started to open my mouth to argue with her, and
then thought better of it. "C'mon," she said, tugging at my arm,
"Let's go." We walked to the party silently, me scuffing the soles
of my shoes on the sidewalk, Kris looking off in the distance with
this look of intense concentration on her face. We didn't talk,
didn't say a single word to each other. We got to the dance, and I
knew that I was the luckiest guy there. None of the other girls
could even hold a candle to Kris...and they knew it. Seeing the
looks of jealousness and outright bitchiness Kris got from the
other girls made me feel proud and excited that she was my date.
Well...that wasn't exactly true. Kris and I had arrived together,
and I had every intention, at that point, of leaving with her. But
as I was to discover, I wasn't her date. Not by a long shot. The
dance was held...where else? In the gym. Streamers dangled from the
ceiling, and a low-grade garage band was pounding out tunes from
The Eagles and Bob Seeger in one corner, drowning out most
conversations. A long table filled with refreshments occupied one
corner of the room. I mimed drinking with my hands and then raised
my eyebrows, and Kris nodded, so I went off to get us some punch.
Returning with two paper cups, I saw Kris and Billy Warner
standing, talking. Kris had her back to me when I came up, and the
band had just finished a song. "I said, you look beautiful
tonight!" Billy said, a little loudly. I winced, waiting for Kris
to belt him, and then was both surprised and hurt by what happened
next. Kris laughed this nervous little giggle, looked down at the
floor and said, "You really think so? Thank you." At that moment,
I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. I'd said the
exact same thing to her on her porch, and gotten a punch in the
arm. Billy had said it, and gotten the reaction I wanted. The
smile, giggle and thank-you. And then it all became clear. What I
had said didn't matter to Kris, wasn't important to her,
because...because it had come from me. I guess she felt that since
we were friends, it really didn't matter what I thought. She wanted
me to think of her as a friend, not as a girl, so my feelings for
her towards that end were...extra, unimportant. Make no mistake. I
knew that Kris didn't mean to hurt me, wouldn't have said those
things for the world had she known the effect they ended up having
on me. But that didn't lessen the pain one iota. That's when I
began to understand what role I was going to play in the lives of
all my female friends. I was always going to be the best friend,
the surrogate big brother. They would take the flattery I offered
in the spirit in which they thought it was intended, that of a
friend who was 'required' to say such things. On that warm fall
night, that scent of sweat and moisture that seems to be in every
school gym in the world filling my nostrils, the sounds of the band
pulsing against my eardrums, I watched silently for almost ten
minutes as Kris flirted with Billy. She laughed at his jokes and
tossed her hair, and even went so far as to scuff the toe of her
shoe back and forth on the floor when Billy told her she had the
bluest eyes he'd ever seen. When he asked Kris if he could call
her, sometime, maybe? I closed my eyes and wished with all my heart
and soul that she would tell him thanks, but no thanks. Her quick
and eager acceptance made another little piece of my heart break
off and float away. Billy left, smirking at me over Kris' shoulder
as he walked away. She caught the expression and turned to see me
there. I smiled my best smile and handed her the cup I'd brought.
It was a paper dixie-cup, and was dented from where I'd been
gripping it. She took and sipped from it, her eyes finding and
tracking Billy Warner across the room. The rest of the dance passed
slowly. About six different boys came up to her and asked her to
dance, and she did with all of them. She and I danced, but she was
always looking elsewhere, following the boys. I just watched her,
entranced by her subtle and captivating beauty. And truth be told,
I felt like an ass, because I knew that she would never look at me
the way I was looking at her. I wasn't in Kris' future as anything
but a friend, and a little part of me died that night. But the
worst was yet to come. With twenty minutes left to go before the
dance ended, Kris came up to me. "Uh...Dan, can..um..." I thought
I knew what was coming, and I was right. "Billy wants to walk me
home, and I was wondering if..." I let her off easy, because at
that moment I wanted to be anywhere else but there. "Sure," I said
quickly. "No problem. Have fun. Call me tomorrow." She smiled and
I smiled back, and I turned on my heel and left. I walked
home...alone...and knew with a certain sureness and sadness that
that was the way I'd be spending most of my life anyway. As good a
time as any to get used to it, I supposed. The walk home seemed to
take three times as long as the walk over had. I was in my room
(which faced Kris's house) working on my tie when I heard noise
through the open window. I got up and walked over and saw Kris and
Billy on her front porch. They were standing in front of her door,
talking quietly. And then they fell silent, and Billy started...
leaning towards Kris. I was rooted to the spot, powerless to move,
watching this happen like you watch a car accident happen. You can
see it coming, but you know it's too late to do anything, and it's
all in slow motion. They kissed, and I wanted to scream and shout.
That was my kiss, the one I'd earned. I'd been Kris's friend, I'd
fallen in love with her, I knew all her secrets. I knew her
favorite color was royal blue. I knew her middle name was Ethel (
a name she hated,) and I knew that her father thought she was fat
and ugly. I knew that her cat's name was Mr. Cheevers and that her
mother liked to sing "Amazing Grace" while doing the laundry. Kris
and I had a thousand and one experiences together, an entire summer
of history that this...boy couldn't begin to touch. That was my
kiss, with my girl. And Billy was getting it. They pulled apart.
The kiss hadn't lasted more than a second or two, but all that had
flashed across my mind in that time. Billy pulled back further, and
then Kris lunged at him, kissing him back. This kiss lasted longer,
and I felt the tears starting, hot, fat drops of salty water slowly
filling my eyes only to spill out and run down my cheeks. That kiss
ended, and Billy turned to leave just as Kris turned to go into the
house. As you can probably guess, she turned towards me, saw the
light, looked up, and saw me standing there crying like a baby. I
just turned away from the window and went to bed. Things between
Kris and I...changed after that. There was a new coolness, a new
distance between us. Kris had seen me, had seen the manifestation
of my feelings for her with her own two eyes. As much as she was my
friend, that's all she would ever be, and Kris didn't want to lead
me on or encourage me. Even at that young, tender age, she
understood more about the dynamics of our relationship than I did.
What I did was try and forget how much I loved Kris. I put it away,
in a secret place deep inside, and worked to rebuild the
friendship. Kris and Bill started dating, as much as you can date
at that age. They would go for ice cream or go to an afternoon
movie together, always holding hands, always staring into each
other's eyes. Billy took every opportunity to kiss Kris when I was
around, and it drove me quietly insane. Kris eventually broke up
with Billy, but the damn had been broken. Kris was a beautiful
young woman and she had no trouble finding suitors. I had taken to
watching her on her front porch with my lights turned off. Kris was
always proper and virtuous, never allowing more than a peck on the
cheek and a fast hug. It still hurt like hell to watch, though.
Kris and I grew further apart. She was popular now, both with the
boys and the girls. She ran for Sophomore class president and won,
with a lot of help from...me. I campaigned for her, put up posters,
did everything her campaign manager asked me to. When she won, and
made her short acceptance speech, she thanked everyone who had
given time and effort on her behalf...except me. I felt my face
flush with anger and embarrasment as she walked off the stage. She
caught my eyes, and silently mouthed the words, "Thank you," and
kept walking. That was it. Since I was a year ahead of her, my prom
came first. But Kris was dating a kid in my class at that time, and
I knew she was going, too. As you can probably guess, I went stag.
Kris looked beautiful in her special dress. She was 16 then, a
gorgeous young woman in the full bloom of her young life. Her date,
Richard, was the handsomest kid in our class, and they made a
wonderful couple. I watched them slow dancing around the gym, eyes
locked together, a little smile on her face. It was late in the
evening, about twenty minutes until the entire thing was over. I
was staring at the streamers taped to this ring hung from the
center of the ceiling when I felt this tap on my shoulder. I looked
over as Kris sat down in the empty chair next to mine. "Dance?" she
said softly. I nodded and stood. I wanted to dance with her very,
very badly, but didn't want her to know <how> badly. We moved to
the floor just an an old Elvis tune started playing. "I Can't Help
Falling In Love (With You)" We danced slowly, at arms length, even
as I tried to bring her closer. We stared at each other, and I felt
something... break loose inside me. I was six days away from
graduation, and college called. This was Kris' way of saying
goodbye, her final gift to me. Or so I thought. The dance ended,
and I leaned in and quickly kissed her on the cheek, and squeezed
her hand. "Thank you," I said sincerely, turned and left. I walked
home (again,) that same walk I'd taken four years ago. I got home
and trudged upstairs, thinking about college and my future, trying
to forget my past and Kris. But it wasn't to be. In my bedroom,
sitting on my bed, was the dusty, creased Orioles cap. No note,
nothing. Just the cap. It looked lonely and forlorn sitting there,
and I joined it, running my fingers over it, thinking back to that
first summer, the seemingly endless days spent making memories,
memories that were going to have to last a lifetime for me, because
I knew there wouldn't be any more. When I came home from college
and joined the local police department, Kris' family had moved. Her
father had been promoted and transferred, and Kris was...gone. A
new family lived next door, an elderly couple who had retired and
were spending their twilight years in the house the love of my life
once lived in. They turned Kris' bedroom into a sewing room. That
was four years ago. I was 22 at the time, Kris was 21 and somewhere
else. It was four years later, now. I was 26, and Kris was 25, and
she was in the car, laughing that same laugh. "Hey, copper! You'll
never take me alive!"

                                * * *

   "Kris?" I asked, my hand still on my gun. I knew it was her, but
I was still careful. "Dan!" she squealed, getting out of the car
and running into my arms. Her hug was ferocious and tight, and I
found myself wrapping her up in my arms, pulling her closer. She
smelled wonderful, just the way I remembered from those summers
almost fifteen years go. We pulled apart, and I got my first look
at her in eight years. The time had been kind to Kris. She was a
beautiful young woman, mature and luscious. Her breasts were full
and firm, held in a tight grasp by the black leotard top she wore,
and were pressed together by the size-to-small leather vest she was
wearing. Her tight, round butt was molded by the snug jeans she
wore. Long, slim legs were tucked into cowboy boots. Her hair was
kinky now, either naturally or by some beauty parlor magician, and
it looked wonderful. "I stopped by the station, and they told me
you were out here looking for speeders, so I figured I'd let you
finally catch me!" I just smiled and hugged her again. "When do you
get off?" she asked. I told her that my tour would be up at
midnight. "Would you like to...oh, I don't know...go out for a
drink or something?" I agreed, and she told me to meet her at
Finnegan's, a local pub. She turned to get back into her car, and
then stopped, turning back to me to kiss me quickly and chastely on
the lips. "It's so good to see you again, Dan!" she enthused. Kris
got in the car and was gone. I spent the rest of my tour in a daze.
Three people blew by me at over sixty miles an hour, and I let them
all go. I was in too good a mood to chase anyone, let alone write
any tickets. Midnight came, and I rotated out, chaning into street
clothes and taking my Baretta and shield with me. Department
regulations required that I have my gun and sheild at all times,
but I wasn't thinking about enforcing any laws that night. My mind
was filled with questions. Climbing into my PathFinder, I drove
over to Finnegans in two minutes flat, a trip that normally took
ten. Walking in, I spotted Kris talking to two guys at the bar.
Spotting me, she excused herself and walked over to greet me.
Throwing her arms around my neck, she gave me a kiss that took my
breath away. It was a close-mouthed kiss (no tongue!) but it still
shocked me to my socks. "God, it's sooo good to see you!" she said,
smiling up at me, her arms still around my neck. Her hands dropped
to my waist, and she felt my pistol, snug in it's inside- the-pants
holster. "So, is that a gun in your pocket-?" "I'm just happy to
see you," I finished. "But yes, it's a gun." We cracked up at the
stupid joke and made our way to the bar. The two guys she'd been
talking two had vanished, and she didn't even give them a parting
glance. We sat and I ordered a beer. "So," I asked, "What are you
doing in these parts?" "Well...I finished medical school, and...I'm
back." "Back? Back where?" "Back here. I've decided to start a
family practice here. I'm going to be the new town doctor. You can
call me 'Doc.'" That news, frankly, blew me away. "Really..." I
said, not sure, exactly, what this meant. Kris was apparantly back
in my life...but in what capacity? "You don't sound very excited,
Dan." There was soft reproach in her voice, and I moved quickly to
control the damage. "I just thought that I'd never see you again."
"Didn't you get any of my letters?" That shocked me. "No. Not one.
What letters? I never got any letters from you!" "I...gave them to
your mother to mail to you after you left for college. When I left,
I mailed them to my parents, and my mother gave them to your
mother...and you didn't get any of them? Not one?" I nodded,
suddenely understanding. My mother knew how I felt about Kris, and
knew how Kris, at the time, felt about me. Trying to protect me, I
suppose, she hadn't given me a single one. "I thought you hated
me," Kris said softly. "I kept apologizing in my letters
for...ignoring you. For not..." "Shh," I said, holding a finger to
her lips. "Don't worry about it. I got over it. I...went on." "So,"
Kris said brightly, after a minute, "What's going on in your life?
Got anyone special?" I snorted. "You know better than that." She
heard the hurt and lonliness in my voice and just let it sit there.
"Still have my hat?" she finally asked. I nodded. "Why did you put
it on my bed?" That had been bothering me for nine years. Kris took
a while to answer, sipping at her beer as she framed a reply. "Back
then...on the night of the prom, I wanted you to have a fresh
beginning. You were going off to college, and I was still home, in
town. I wanted you to move on, Dan. I knew how you felt about me.
Hell, the whole school knew! I didn't think it was fair for you to
carry around all that baggage...especially since I couldn't return
the feelings." "So why'd you write me?" I challenged. Kris sighed.
"Because once you were gone...you know the old saying. You don't
appreciate something until after it's gone." At that moment, I
remembered another old saying. 'If you love something...let it go.
If it comes back, it's yours. If it doesn't it never was.' I had
let Kris go, and now she was back. Was she mine? Kris and I spent
that night catching up on nine years of each other's lives. I told
her about college and being a cop in a small town. She told me of
college, and medical school, and her internship. She'd graudated a
year early from college, and then finished medical school in three
years instead of two. "I was looking for something. What, I didn't
know. But I do now." I left that alone for the moment. Too many
explosive, voilitile emotions surrounded that. Kris was leaving me
openings left and right...and I was determined to be sure what she
was thinking before I made my move. If she was hinting, one more
day or week or month wouldn't make a difference. If she wasn't, and
was just making conversation, I couldn't stand the pain and the
humiliation again. We went our seperate ways that night, Kris
kissing me again before she got into her car. I drove home and fell
into a deep, restless sleep. I dreamt of the prom, only this time
we were adults, and Kris was my date, and she was wearing that same
dress, only in adult proportions, and the cowboy boots, and we
danced every dance together in an empty gym, just the two of us. I
had four more four-to-midnight shifts left to go before I rotated
to midnights, and three days off before I had to start midnight-to-
eight shifts the following Saturday night. Those four shifts I
spent thinking about Kris and I...together. She had been hinting
the entire time that night at the bar, and I was trying to work up
the courage to call her up and ask her out. Finally, I did it.
Wednesday night, I was in my house (the same house I'd grown up in,
my parents long retired to Florida,) pacing in the living room,
staring at the silent phone, letting it mock me. Nothing ventured,
etc, I thought, and sat down. Unfolding the bar napkin that Kris
had scrawled her telephone number across, I dialed the seven digits
with a shaking hand. The phone was answered by a machine, and I
breathed a sigh of relief. I'd already rehearsed the message I'd
leave on the machine. It was easier to talk to the machine, because
it couldn't say no. And the message I'd leave would give me an easy
out. "It's Dan," I said after the beep. "It's nine-thirty
Wednesday, and I was wondering if you would like to have dinner
with me Friday night. If you do, call me at home. Leave a message
if I'm not here. If I don't hear from you... I'll understand. Talk
to you-" There was a click on the line, and then Kris, out of
breath. "I heard the phone ringing when I pulled into the
driveway," she gasped, "and almost broke my key off in the lock
when I heard your voice. Give me a second..." She caught her
breath, and I heard sitting noises in the background: the scrape of
a chair against a kitchen floor, the weight of her body settling
into it. "Dan...are you asking me out on a date?" My blood turned
to ice and I wanted to die. Another ten seconds, and the messsage
would have been safely with the machine. Forty- eight hours of
silence from her, and I would have realized that once again I'd
made an asshole out of myself, that there was no way in hell this
intelligent, sexy woman would ever want any part of a pogue- "Dan?
Are you still there?" I sighed. "Yes. I was asking you out on a
date. I'm sorry. It was just that in the bar-" "I'd be delighted,
Dan." Silence from me prompted a footnote from her. "Really. I'd be
delighted. I was hoping you would ask." "Fine," I managed. "I'll
pick you up at seven." "You don't even know where I live!" she
chided. "You forget. I'm a cop. I know everything. See you Friday."
I hung up to the sound of her songlike laughter and immediately
freaked. Because now I had to face something I'd been ignoring for
a long, long time. At the tender age of 26, I was still...a virgin.

                                * * *

   Friday came, and I was nervous all day. I bought new clothes and
then discarded them, tossing them into the back of my closet. I
wanted to look good, but casual and unstudied, like I hadn't gone
to any trouble. I settled on a light blue oxford, wash-faded jeans,
and cowboy boots. I was known well enough in the town that I could
tuck my Baretta into the small of my back and not worry about
someone calling the cops. After all, I was the cops! I studied
myself in the mirror as I shaved for my first date with Kris. I,
too, had changed since Kris saw me last. I'd lost about thirty
pounds in college, and another ten or so when I joined the force.
Costant workouts had gotten me in shape, as a fat, flabby cop was
not effective on the streets. My face was mostly still the same,
though. Average. Brown eyes, the shade of shit. A small nose,
neither distinctive nor striking. I'd grown a mustache, the color
the same as the mousy brown on my head. "You're an idiot," I told
the mirror. "She's never going to love you..." And then I put
thoughts like that out of my head and finished preparing for thd
date. I drove over to Kris' place wondering what the hell was going
to happen that night. If I'd known, I might have turned around and
driven right back home. Pulling into her driveway, I parked and
turned the truck off, getting out and ascending the front porch
stairs. Ringing the doorbell, I turned around and remembered
another night I stood on a porch, waiting for Kris. The door opened
and I turned around. Kris was wearing a light blue, off-the-
shoulder dress. It came down to just above her knees, and she was
wearing those same cowboy boots. Her hair was in a bouncy ponytail,
her face scrubbed clean and devoid of makeup. She looked perfect.
"Well? What do you think?" she asked, twirling for me. "I'd tell
you," I started. "But you're afraid I'd punch you, right?" I was
touched that she remembered that night as well as I. "Tell me
anyway," she said, batting her eyelashes at me. "You look
beautiful," I said sincerely. "You really think so? Thank you."
Wow. That was too much. It was as if I were Bobby, in the gym, at
that first dance. I was blown away. It was like Kris had peeked
inside my head and read the mental script that I kept of that
night. We walked to my truck, got in, and drove to Finnegans for
dinner. When we walked in, every head turned and every guy was
instantly jealous. I felt a little puffed up with pride, and we
made our way to my regular table, a small intimate little booth in
the back. She slid in next to me, her leg pressing against mine.
The waitress came over. "Hello, Dan. What can I get the law
tonight, and his pretty date?" "Cheryl?" Kris asked. Cheryl
Lingstrom had been a classmate of mine, a girl who had been
charitibly known back then as...well, as the class slut. "Yes...?"
"It's me! Kris! Kris Russo!" "Kris?" The girls squealed and hugged.
"What are you doing back in town?" "I'm setting up my medical
practice here!" Kris said, sitting back down. She put her arm
through mine and grabbed my hand. "And having dinner with the
handsomest man in town!" Cheryl's eyebrows went up at that, but she
didn't say anything. She just nodded and opened her pad. "What'll
you folks have?" We ordered, and then Cheryl left us alone. I was
still blushing from Kris' earlier comment. "So tell me about what
goes on in law enforcement in this town," she said softly, staring
into my eyes. I was at a complete and utter loss of words, and was
only saved by the arrivial of our salads. Cheryl put them in front
of us and vanished, leaving me the opportunity to feed my face. It
was better then trying to make conversation with Kris. I had no
idea what to say. I didn't feel witty or charming. I didn't want to
<say> or <do> anything to fuck this up. She looked so beautiful, so
perfect, sitting next to me. So right. That's what it felt
like...that it was right, perfect, pre-ordained that Kris would be
there with me. The years apart vanished, and it was like we were
kids again, no secrets, endless summer afternoons talking about
Important Things and looking at the clouds. Cheryl was a great
waitress, the entrees coming directly on the heels of the
appetizers, and Kris and I didn't have much opportunity to talk.
She and I both declined desert, and the check came with rapidity
heretofor unseen at Finnegans. I tipped Cheryl mightily, and Kris
and I left. We got into the truck and Kris was silent. I smiled,
and remembered my gift. Reaching back behind her seat, I found it
and dropped it into her lap. Kris raised it in her hands, and then
smiled at me, the warmest, most beautiful smile I have ever seen on
another human being. She put the dusty, creased, well-fingered
Orioles cap on her head, letting the ponytail stream out the back.
"Let's go to the docks," she said. I nodded and started the truck.
The docks were mostly just a series of piers, used by some of the
bigger ships up until about ten years ago. They were mostly
deserted now, and had turned into a local lover's lane. We got
there and parked, and then got out and started walking along the
water. "You're awful quiet tonight," Kris offered. I just shrugged.
"Penny for your thoughts," she tried again. "I...just don't want to
fu-...screw this up." "You're not." "I know. That's why I'm not
talking." She laughed and I joined her. "Do you know why I was so
happy when you called and asked me out?" I said that I did not.
"Because...one of the reasons I came back here, back home, is you.
I knew that you were here, living and working. ..I want you to be
a part of my life, Dan." That was fairly vauge. I didn't say
anything. I'd learned a few interrogation techniques, and one of
them was to let the silences build, let the subject dig themselves
in, rushing to fill the void. "After you left for college...I felt
empty. I knew how you felt about me, and I missed that. I was
selfish and petty back then. I liked the idea of having this boy
devoted to me...even if I wouldn't ever think of dating him. It
made me feel beautiful and desired and wanted. You remember how my
father used to be. I broke up with Richard that summer when he
started fooling around with an older girl. She let him make love to
her, and he wanted me to do that with him, but I just wasn't ready.
We had huge fights. He tried that old 'if you love me you'll do
this for me' routine, and I used that old 'if you love me you won't
make me do this' thing on him. So I got rid of him. And I was angry
for a long time, angry because I suddenely realized that you never
would have given me that ultimatum. You would have waited until the
time and place were right, and then it would just
happen...naturally, beautifully, the way it was meant to be. And
with that realization came the understanding of how shabbily I'd
treated you over the years. That's when I started writing." "I
know," I said quietly. "Excuse me?" "I went through some of my
parent's papers. I found a box full of your letters in the attic.
I read them. All of them." "Oh." Her voice was suddenely small and
far away. "If I had gotten them...I would have come to see you,
Kris. Like you asked. But I never got them, I swear." "I know," she
nodded. We fell silent for a few moments. Kris shivered a little.
The wind was coming in off the water. She turned her back to the
water, facing me, and I could see the hard points of her nipples
under the dress, and I realized with a start that she wasn't
wearing a bra! "Cold?" I asked, turning to leave. She reached out
and touched my arm. "Kiss me," she said. "Please." I turned back
slowly, and wrapped her up in my arms. She had gained about an
inch, and stood about five nine. Her face was at the perfect
height. Lowering my face towards hers, I closed the distance
between our lips in slow, agonizing increments. And then we were
kissing...really kissing, for the first time. Her mouth was soft
and hot, and after minute her lips parted, and her tongue came
knocking against my mouth. I opened my mouth, and then we were
deeply Frenching, her hot moist tongue in my mouth, setting my toes
on fire. Kris' arms encircled my back, moving up to my shoulders,
pulling me tightly against her. "Mmm," she moaned into my mouth.
Pulling away, I turned my head to the other side and came in again.
This kiss was hotter than the first, if that was at all possible.
Our mouths worked eagerly, hungrily together, and I knew at that
instant that I had never stopped loving Kris, not completely. This
was perfect and right and just and inevitable. I was kissing the
woman I loved, the woman I'd always loved, and she was kissing me
back. "Take me home," she moaned against my throat when we parted.
"Take me to your house and make love to me, Dan. Please!" I pulled
away from her, pursing my lips. "There's something you should
know," I started, ready to reveal my secret to her, finally. Her
features clouded, her eyebrows drawing together. Concern was
written all across her face. "What?" "I...um....I've never...."
Surprise turned to outright astonishment. "Never? Ever?" I shook my
head. Laughing, she said, "You saved yourself for me?" "No...I
mean, yes, but not...I mean, there was never anyone else
who...wanted to....with me, I mean.....I mean.." "Shh," Kris said,
kissing me. "I don't care why. And it's not important. I just wish
that I was...that I hadn't.. ..before tonight...that way, it could
be, for both of us, the first-" "Shh," I said to her, kissing her
again. "For me, it will be. I've...dreamed about this...forever.
Whenever I thought of my first time with a woman, it was always you
in my mind. Always you showing me what you liked, what you wanted.
Teaching me how to do it right, to make you feel good." "But what
about you?" "I don't care. If...if you get pleasure, the maximum
pleasure, that's all that was important to me." And it was true. It
was. "Take me home," Kris said. "Take me to your bed, Dan."

                                * * *

   The door to my house swung open, and Kris stepped in ahead of
me. I closed and locked the door, and turned to face her. Kris
leaned up on her toes and kissed me, softly, once. Taking my hand,
she led me up the stairs to my bedroom. It was the same bedroom I'd
slept in as a child. I'd replaced the twin bed with a king-sized,
the thing dominating the entire room. Kris shut my bedroom door and
turned on the light by the bed. She turned to me, biting her bottom
lip and slowly walked over to where I was standing. She kissed me
again, wrapping her arms around my neck. Once again, our mouths
were working hungrily and eagerly against each other. My hands were
on her waist, gently holding her. One of Kris' hands left my neck
and found my hand, lifting it to her chest and placing it on her
right breast. Gasping into her mouth, I closed my fingers around
that full, perfect tit. It's plump, heavy weight felt like heavan
in my hand, and I gently hefted it, testing it's bounce and
resliencey. My thumb worked across her nipple, and Kris gasped into
my mouth. Thinking I'd hurt her, my hand flew off her breast and
smacked against the wall. "I'm sorr-" I started. Kris smiled and
reached for my hand, replacing it on her breast. "It felt good,
Dan, that's all. Don't worry. If you do something I don't want you
to, I'll tell you. But I don't think that's going to be a problem."
And then we were kissing again. The kisses gained strength and
passion and emotion, and I had to move my mouth. I was gasping,
hungry for air. Kris kissed my neck and chin,moving down to my
throat. Her hands left my neck and started working on the buttons
of my shirt. Kris kissed each new portion of skin that was
revealed, taking several minutes to lick and tug on my nipples with
her lips and tongue. I reached behind me and removed my pistol,
reaching past Kris to put it on the dresser. I checked the safety
before returning to her arms. Didn't want it going off NOW. I was
in danger of shooting off, though. Kris pulled my shirt off and
tossed it over her shoulder. She leaned down and kissed my stomach,
then moved lower and teasingly licked my belly button. I felt her
hands on my belt buckle, and I stopped her. "You," I said. She
smiled and stood, holding her arms out. I kissed her neck and
shoulder and throat, Kris moaning as I did so. Her hands were in my
hair, nails lightly scratching my scalp. She kissed my ear and
licked me there, turning me on even more. I slid the short sleeves
off of her arms and gently lowered the top of her dress. Kris'
breasts bobbed as the material passed over them, and for the first
time in my life, I had a pair of naked female breasts to kiss and
touch and stroke. They were perfect, as only a young girl's can be.
They weren't overly large, but they were in perfect proportion to
the rest of her body. Perfectly round, about the diameter of an
orange, they sat high and proud on her chest, the little pink
nipples stiff in excitement. I dipped my face down and kissed her
left nipple, tugging at it gently with my teeth. Kris' fingernails
dug into my scalp, pulling my mouth closer to her breast. Moving to
the other one, I repeated the action. Kris pulled my face away and
her mouth ascended towards mine, her toungue reaching out and
licking and teasing mine. She worked the dress off her hips and it
fell to the ground. She sat on the bed and worked her boots off,
standing to face me again in just her tiny pink panties. I lost my
pants and boots and socks in a heartbeat. We were facing each
other, her in her panties, me in my jockeys. I had a tent in mine,
though. Hooking her fingers in her panties, Kris lowered them, and
I saw the fine blonde down covering her mons. "Christ," I said, "it
grew a beard!" Kris laughed with sudden rememberence. That first
summer, we'd gone swimming down at the lake, and since neither of
us had brought a suit, we'd swum in our underwear. I still
remembered the brief glance I'd gotten of her fat, bald little
twat. "Very funny," Kris laughed. So did yours, I bet!" I took a
deep breath and hooked my own fingers in the waistband of my
underwear and slid them down my legs. We were finally, gloriously
naked for each other. For the first time. She was perfect,
beautiful, fragile. And, for tonight, at least, mine. We fell onto
the bed together, laughing and giggling like kids. Kris rolled over
on top of me, kissing me. Her long, lithe body felt hot and smooth
against mine. My hands cupped her ass, that ass I had lusted after
for so many years. She ground her crotch against mine, and I could
feel the moisture of her arousal against my thighs and pubic hair.
My cock was trapped between our bodies, rubbing against Kris'
stomach. "This ain't no gun in your pocket, pardner!" Kris laughed,
reaching between us to stroke me. Her touch was feathery light and
exciting. "Careful," I warned. "I'm a quick shot!" "I know...this
first one's gonna be fast. Don't worry about it. We have all night.
And all day. And all night. And all day again...!" She stroked me,
once, twice, and I climaxed, covering both of our bellies with my
cream. "Mmm," Kris said. "So hot and creamy...!" She got off my
body and licked her way down to my crotch, cleaning me with her
mouth. She worked slowly, teasingly, lovingly. I didn't get soft at
all. Not one little bit. My hot, hard cock was eager for action.
Kris worked it slowly, taking my entire length into her mouth with
gentle, deep strokes. My first blowjob was better than I could have
ever imagined. I was getting close to another orgasm when I pulled
her face from my cock. "Now you," I said, rolling her onto her
back. Eagerly, Kris spread her legs, and I got down between
them...and realized that I was lost. I had never seen...one of
these up close before. "What's the matter?" Kris teased. "Don't
like the view?" "I like the view fine," I said. "I just...need a
map!" Laughing, Kris showed me what I needed to know. She pointed
out all the locations I needed to be aware of, and told me to go to
it. I never could have imagined how exciting she would taste. So
hot and tangy. So beautiful. I sipped and licked and blew and
gently sucked at her, covering every inch of her pussy with my
mouth, lips and tongue. Kris announced that she was getting closed,
and directed my attention to a very specific spot. I worked it, and
her, using my lips and tongue, and felt her shudder under me. I was
bathed with her secretions, and I gulped them eagerly. Kris pulled
me to her, raising her face for a kiss. "Mmm," she said. "I taste
good!" I smiled, and we kissed again, softly. "Ready for the main
event?" she asked. "Ready as I'll ever be!" I assured her. Reaching
one hand down, Kris located my throbbing member and guided it
towards her pussy. I felt wetness and warmth, and then I was
sliding inside. She was incredibly hot and tight and wet and slick
for me, and I groaned as I bottomed out inside her. She clutched at
me with her muscles, milking me, and I groaned again. It was beyond
belief. I was inside the woman I'd loved for so many years, finally
a part of her. What we'd done tonight could never be taken back,
never be undone by anything anyone ever did. If I died tonight, I'd
go a happy man to whatver came after this life with no regrets.
Pulling out, I slid back in again, the second thrust better than
the first. We set up a slow motion, a gentle rocking gait, and
stared at each other as we made love this first, special time. "I
love you," Kris whispered. "I can't help falling in love with you,"
she said in her best Elvis and I laughed, once again touched that
she remembered and realized how important she, and that night had
been to me. Was to me. My strokes began to quicken, and Kris
grunted in pleasure, her legs coming up and around my back, one
palm against my ass, urging me on. We made love hungrily, eagerly,
giving and taking to and from each other, staring at each other's
eyes as we became one on my bed that night. When I spent again,
Kris joined me, her pussy contracting around me, milking me,
happily accepting my creamy offering. I collapsed, rolling over
onto my back, bringing Kris with me. She kissed me then, once,
softly on the lips, and snuggled her face into my chest. "This
feels so...right," she said, just before drifting off to sleep. "I
love you," I said, and felt her arms tighten around me. I slept.

                                 * * *

   I woke first, and disengaged myself from Kris. I went downstairs
and made coffee, eggs and toast. Retrieving the paper, I put it on
the tray and carried the whole thing upstairs. Entering the
bedroom, I saw that Kris was still sleeping. The covers came up to
the bottom of her butt, that perfect ass of hers looking soft and
smooth in the early morning light. Kris had taken the rubber band
out of her hair sometime during the night, and her golden tresses
were spread over the pillow. I could see the press of her breast
against the bed, and saw her perfect, pert little nose buried in
the pillow. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my
life. She woke then, smelling the foot. Donning my shirt from the
night before, she motioned me over to the bed. We ate in silence,
sharing the paper and enjoying the companionable silence. I was
reading the sports page when I felt a hand inside my bathrobe,
reaching for my cock. I lowered the paper and saw that Kris had
unbottoned my shirt. I could see her breasts inside, moving gently
against the material. "Again?!" I said in mock horror. "Again!"
Kris said, grabbing the paper and tossing it away. "Love me, Dan.
Again. All day today. And tonight. Forever." Lowering my face to
hers, just before I kissed her, I said, "Forever."

                                The End

   
