Friendship Spilled Over

My best friend, Art, was somewhat older than I. We became
friends after a temporary assignment threw us together. We quickly
realized that although our personalities were very nearly opposite,
that we enjoyed many of the same things, and – more importantly –
genuinely liked each other’s company, and were very good partners
because of our combination of differences and similarities.

I began to spend more and more time at Art’s home, with him and
his family, and got on extremely well with all of them except for his
oldest daughter, Katharine, who I took to be a snob. And worse. Despite
this, before long, I was spending most of my spare time, not only with
Art, but with his wife, Mary and with his family. Being single, and
between relationships, I had little to keep me at my apartment. I
enjoying every minute of my visits with these good folks.

Kate says that her first impression of me was not any more
positive than mine was of her, either. She felt that I was too light
hearted, and that my habit of making a joke or pun of everything got
on her nerves. Among other things.

After a time, events evolved that resulted in a slow
change in the relationship between Kate and I that would throw
both our lives into a state that neither of us was prepared for.
One night Art called and asked me if I’d be so kind as to drive
Katharine to a dance some miles away. He had promised to take
her since he had already agreed to act as chaperone, but had to
attend an emergency business meeting. Rather than let down the
youth group and Kate, he wanted me to take his place. I
reluctantly agreed to do so.

After a tense first half hour in the car, Kate and I
finally relaxed a little and began to chat. Once we got to the
dance, she found out to her horror that all the kids her age had
gone somewhere else, and that all the youth attending were at
least several years younger than she was, which was sixteen at
the time. I was the only one there she knew, and the only one
she felt comfortable talking to. We wound up spending the whole
night together and truly got to know and like each other. I began
to teach her how to dance in old fashioned ballroom style, and she
turned out to be very good at it. Afterwards there was the
trip back home.

We stopped and ate at a McDonalds, and enjoyed that simple meal
as if it were gormet prepared. It was the company made it great! We
stopped for gas, and she locked me out of the car. I’d run around,
and she’d unlock that door and lock the one I was running for.
I hammed it up, she giggled and we both laughed and teased, and
realized that we were having a great time together. The cashier
at the pay window had a huge smile on her face. She commented that
“You and your girlfriend really have a great relationship, sir.”
When I told Kate about this, she laughed as hard as I did. We
had no idea at the time how close this was to truth.

As we continued on towards home, our conversation continued
to grow and improve. To my surprise, I discovered that Kate was far
and away the most intelligent and interesting woman I had met in a
very long time, despite her young age. Somehow, she seemed to be
having as much fun as I was, too. I drove slower and slower as we
got closer to home.

By the time we pulled back into her home’s driveway a little
after midnight we had found that we had a lot more in common than
either of us would have ever thought possible. We’d become fast
and close friends. In fact we sat in the car and talked for twenty
minutes before we went in.

Unfortunately, her two little sisters saw us pull in and
watched us sit in the car and talk. When we walked in the back door
into the kitchen, we were greeted with a chorus of “Will was kissing
Katey! Will was kissing Katey!” We were both mortified, and denied
it vehemenently. “We were not! We were just talking!”
Fortunately her parents thought it was funny. They were just glad
that we were now getting to be friendly. They didn’t realize
yet that something special had begun happened between us that
included but far transcended friendship. What’s worse, We didn’t
know either. We had formed the beginnings of a relationship that
was going to sneak up on us.

So, over a period of weeks and months, so slowly that no one
noticed, including especially Kate and me, we became closer and

I began picking her up and dropping her off to and from school.
I made myself available to take her and her friends wherever they
wanted to go. I began to help her with her various chores any
time that I could.

We began to run across each other by accident. One time
I dropped in at a donut shop for a snack, and ran into her and two
of her friends. She got a little put off when one of those friends
made a comment after a while that I was a neat boyfriend. I was as
miffed as Kate was. The friend was most likely even more
surprised at the strength with which we both denied any relationship
except that of friend, than we were at her expression of what was
clear to her. And turned out to be true.

We became ear to each other. I only wish I knew how many
hours we spent talking about everything from our relationships
with others – both past and present – to politics and music. I
even helped her with her homework. During all this, neither one
of us realized what was happening. We were falling in love so
slowly that we didn’t realize it. We fell in love so gently that
those closest to us didn’t notice until it was too late.

One fateful night, after TV and conversation, I carried each
of the little girls upstairs to bed, tucked them in and wished
them goodnight, as had become customary. Then I said a last
goodnight to Art and Mary and started out to leave for my

Kate was in the kitchen doing dishes. She was dressed in
old, faded, tattered sweats, was wet with dishwater up to the
elbows, had the odor of a hard days’ work about her, and in short
was anything but glamorous and sexy at that moment. I was tired,
and running on autopilot myself. I was totally off guard,
completely unprepared for what was about to happen. Defenseless.
Kate was in the same state, expecting nothing, and not ready
for anything out of the ordinary. As I walked thru the kitchen,
She turned to me and smiled and said teasingly, “Don’t I get a
goodnight hug too?”

“Sure you do.” I said. I approached her and took her in my
arms intending nothing more than a simple affectionate hug like those
which we had exchanged many times before.

Something else happened. As I put my arms around her she sighed
contentedly and settled her tired body into mine, and hugged me back.
It felt very, very nice. Her form fitted against mine perfectly. I
let her settle in against me, adjusting my own body a little to
accommodate her. Then I began feeling very odd. Something new and
different that I had never felt before was happening to me. I felt
hot, my heartbeat was speeding up and I felt lightheaded and confused.
I pulled away from her a little bit and took a look into her face.
Her eyes gazed into mine with a light I had never seen before. I
stood entranced, unable to move, looking into those deep and lovely
pools of unfamiliar light. I was a buck caught in the headlights.
Her face was suddenly radiantly beautiful, with a deep and never
passing beauty that shown from her very soul and shot deep into

I felt my knees go weak. Her lips parted, glistening moistly.
I found my face moving slowly towards hers. She didn’t move away,
for she was as caught up in the magic as I was. We had no idea what
we were about to start, for neither of us had intended to start
anything. She moved to meet me, and her lips touched mine for
the first time.

There are no kisses that exceed and few that can equal that one
for sudden passion, for surprise and unintended results. We sank
deeper into each other’s embrace. As we kissed, we got better at
it and that kiss rapidly became more practiced, and grew ever more
passionate with each moment. Time stood still, and the very air
around us became charged with erotic energy. I have no idea how long
we stood there wrapped around each other, but when we finally came
up for air, it was already too late to turn back.

Breathing heavily, overwhelmed, surprised, we looked into
each other’s hungry eyes. We spoke not one word, but drank in our
mutual need for each other in silence. As soon as we recovered our
breath, we moved back in and kissed again. And again.

I was holding her body to mine, confused with the intense,
unfamiliar feelings that were washing over me. My hands were moving
of their own volition, first over her back, down over her bottom, and
then over her breasts, touching, feeling, caressing, absorbing. It
was only later that I realized that as I was passionately caressing
her body that she was also exploring mine. I broke our embrace for
a moment.

She was as taken by surprise as I was, and was as powerless to
stop what we were doing. Each action led to a higher level of arousal,
and stronger desires, which each then fed on, and in turn fed back to
the other. I was thirty-five, and had never experienced anything
like this before and probably never will again, except with her.
How could a sixteen year old girl handle this sudden and powerful
kind of passion If a more or less experienced adult was confused
by it?

We were both wild eyed and irrational, and consumed with a
desire that neither of us understood, that demanded consummation. She
took her arms from around me, and tenderly placed her right hand on my
left shoulder, and her left palm on my cheek. My hands were on her
waist. We didn’t move or speak for several long moments, we just
stood there looking deep into each other’s eyes. Then she silently
took my hand and led me into the living room. I followed helplessly.

I was hers totally from that moment until today. Once in the
living room, she pulled me close. Our bodies fitted together once
more as perfectly as a custom key fits it’s lock and we held each
other. We sank slowly down onto the couch, totally wrapped up in
each other. She softly said, “Hold me, Will. Kiss me. Touch me
some more.” and I did.

We were lying on that couch entwined in love’s narcotic
embrace as her parents went up the stairs – just around the corner
– to go to bed. We lay quietly still, unable to let go of each
other, too dazed to even consider that we might be discovered,
revelling in each other’s tastes, feels and smells. Even today, I
find the smell of dish detergent erotic on her because of what
happened. Art and Mary continued on upstairs to bed, unknowing,
leaving us undisturbed. We kissed and caressed with steadily
rising desire and rapidly increasing passion.

We explored each other’s bodies with growing enthusiasm, not
really caring that we might be caught, not really thinking in the
boundless and mutual passions that we had suddenly found in each
other that what we were doing was certain to lead to a fully
consummated love.

Our clothing somehow went away, and her as yet only medium
sized breasts were pressing against my chest, her small nipples
hardening against my skin, tickling and pleasing me as we moved
about against each other. Her hands moved over my back and
chest, and then continued their exploring until she found my
manhood. She took it in hand, and began playing with it,
her inexperienced touch giving me thrills that I had never
felt before from any other woman. Girl of sixteen she might
be, but she was somehow more than any other woman could
be at that moment. And remains so today.

I reciprocated, finding her most deeply hidden, most
tender and delightful places, bringing her and myself to a
steadily higher lever of passion, and an inevitable ending
to the night’s sudden adventures.

Finally, after a great deal of teasing and play, I found
to my surprise that my erection was somehow positioned just
right. She gave a rolling shove, let out a gasp, and I felt my
erection part the lips of her vagina. I was just barely there,
but I was in her. I savored the moment. Then we commenced
kissing again. I pushed a little harder, she wrapped one leg
over my body and pulled. Her hymen strained, broke, and she
let out her maiden’s cry and was a woman. Her lips again
sought mine and we kissed. We slowly rolled and moved our
bodies until our joining was complete, and I was as deep into
her sweet body as I could press.

Now we slowly and carefully made love to each other. With
a care and gentleness that I never knew I possessed, I continued
my lovemaking until her lubrication was flowing fully, and her
hot body was demanding satisfaction. When she began thrusting her
hips and body against mine, encouraging me, I knew she was fully
ready and I began the final stages of something that I had never
thought about and would never have guessed would happen.

As I moved in and out of her, she matched her motions and
rhythms to mine so perfectly that an observer would have thought
we had been lovers for years. We worked each other like an
experienced pickpocket works a crowd, leaving nothing of value
untouched, leaving nothing at all unexamined. Carefully
exploring what we had so unexpectedly found with wondering

Without knowing how I was doing it, and without understanding
how we were communicating, I felt her reaching for her first real
completion, and I urged her onward until she climaxed in my arms.
Her body tensed, spasmed, and she pressed her face deep into my
shoulder and cried out her joy and fulfillment. Her muffled
cries seemed to fill my world. I felt a pleasure at having
pleased her that was so intense it surprised me. I knew that
I wanted to please her again, and again, because it was so
much fun.

She calmed herself, relaxed against me, and I cuddled her
with tenderness and affection. When she began to move against me
again, I followed her inner needs as automatically as I breathe,
and once more began to love her with all my physical being. Again
and again we moved together, almost dancing. There was no need for
words. We had temporarily entered a realm where such things were
not necessary for lovers such as us. Higher and higher I felt her
rise as she reached for another orgasm. I followed her with
enthusiasm. As she peaked, I felt myself beginning to find
my own release. She knew I was about to loose control as soon
as I did, and this somehow sent her over the edge. Silently this
time she repeated her first performance, and this time I was right
with her.

When I climaxed, I tried to pull out (weakly I admit), but
she wrapped her legs around my body, pressed into me and
took my seed as deep into her womb as she could. It wasn’t
until later that we realized just what we had done. The passion
of the moment had totally washed our self control and power of
thought into some small unused part of our minds, leaving their
operation in the hands of complete, total, unbridled lust and
passion. By the time we realized what we were doing, it was
too late. We had made love. We were spoiled for anyone else.
No one would ever quite be able to satisfy either of us ever again
except the other. Later we realized that even then we were both
committed – quite frankly almost against our will – to what we
had done.

We lay there in our waning passion until some sense finally
came back to us, and with a few last touches and caresses, we
finally pried ourselves mostly apart and almost became two
beings instead of one again. We succeeded for the moment,
but neither of us would ever be the same again.

We pulled our clothing back together, crept into the kitchen,
and finished the dishes together. It was done in a cloud of subdued
passion that only cemented us more strongly together. We should have
been feeling deep guilt – and indeed later did – but at that moment
of afterglow, we just plain felt too good to worry about what we had
done. We didn’t even talk about it. We chatted instead about the
thousand and one inconsequential things that close friends find each
day to discuss. After a long and tender leave-taking, I went to my
apartment, slept, and awoke the next morning still dreaming of her
body pressed into mine, still in awe of what we had done, and what
she had so willingly given me.

Kate was even more tired than I was. She went directly to
bed and fell asleep with my seed still bubbling happily inside of
her, and slept as deeply and well as I did, waking with the same
feeling of ease and satisfaction that I had. Like myself, the
ease went away as she had time to fully realized what had happened,
what we had done, and that it had not been a dream. She checked
herself and found that she still had the dried residue of our love
in her pubic hair. That – she said later – was the only thing that
convinced her that it had all not been a dream.


I was in a daze all morning long, almost still in a dream
state. Finally, about an hour in to the day’s work, I came to my
senses, and crashed back into my chair in shock. I had just had
sex with a sixteen year old girl. Not only that, but she was my
best friend’s daughter. And if that isn’t enough, we are very
religious people, and are not supposed to think that sex before
marriage is right. Never mind sex with a child! I sat there in
shock, thinking, “Oh my god, what have I done. What did I do?
How did this happen?” I really couldn’t figure it out. The
phone rang as my poor overloaded brain spun in confusion.

It was Art. He asked, “Will, did Katharine say anything to
you last night as you were leaving?”

“Huh?” I said. “What?”

“Damn. Not you too. She was okay when we first woke her up.
Then about half an hour into the morning, she came unglued, started
crying and locked herself in her room. Nobody can get any sense out
of her.” He said. “We’ve let her stay home from school.”

“Oh. Uh, well . . . ” I mumbled.

“Never mind. Geeze, You’re as bad as she is. Get some rest
for pete’s sake. I’ll call you later. Or better yet, come by for
dinner tonight. See ya then. (click)” he said, and hung up.

I muddled through part of the day, but gave up and left
early. I had to settle this. I went right over to Art’s house,
and found no one there to answer the door. I let myself in the
back, through that same kitchen, and headed up to Kate’s room.
I had to see her, and talk, and resolve this or something.

I went up the stairs, went to her room, and pushed the partly
open door the rest of the way open. Kate was lying on the bed,
face down, dressed in her old bathrobe. She was boo-hoo-ing softly
into her pillow. I felt as if my own heart were about to break.

“Uh – Kate? Can I talk to you for a moment? I’m really
sorry for what I did, and I really want to apologize and promise
I’ll make it up to you somehow.” (She rolled over rapidly, and
looked up at me. I looked down at the floor. If I’d had a hat
and it had been in my hand, I would have been wringing it.) “I
don’t know what came over me. I . . . ”

“You! It was me! I could have . . . I didn’t mean . . .
I . . . I . . . Oh, Will. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to seduce
you.” She mumbled through her tears.

I looked up at her. She was half lying, half sitting, on
her bed. Her hair was damp and going all which ways. The only
thing on her face was tear stains and a pained look. She was
the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She was so beautiful it
made my heart ache. I gulped as she sat up on the edge of
the bed and pulled the robe more closely about her. She bent
over forward and buried her tear-stained face in her hands. I sat
hesitantly next to her and put my hand on her shoulder. “Aw,
don’t cry, Kate. It was me. My fault. I should never have
kissed you. I should never have let myself even start in with
whatever happened. I don’t understand it. I’ve never felt like
that before. This kind of thing has never happened before. I
just don’t even do that kind of thing.”

“I know.” She said quietly, sitting up. She was looking
blankly at the same spot on the old wardrobe as I was. “That’s
why I feel like I was to blame. I know how you feel about that
sort of thing.” She gave a sad little laugh and added, “In
fact that’s how I feel about that sort of thing too.”

We sat in silence. Awkwardly. Then at the same moment,
we turned to each other – intending to say something – and we
found ourselves looking eye to eye again. Whatever each of us
had intended to say vanished. I felt something deep inside
stirring, and groaned “Oh god. Not again.”

“Oh. Please. No! Not again!”, she said at the same

We laughed in spite of ourselves. But we turned our
eyes away. I put my arm around her shoulder. We sat there.
Then finally, I said, “Kate, what are we gonna do? We can’t
pretend nothing happened, can we? We can’t avoid each other.
And I sure don’t want to do what we did again!”

She laughed another nervous little laugh, and said,
“What? Was I that bad a lover that you don’t want to have
anything more to do with me?” She was joking. I didn’t
understand that. My reply was too strong, and too fast.

“God, no! You’re incredible. I’ve never felt that
way before, I’ve never lost control like that. You’re
wonderful! Truly fantastic! If you were older, I’d . . . ”

“Do you really meant that?” she interrupted, and when
I turned to look at her again, her face and those incredible
eyes were there once more. And I looked again. Again I went
light headed, and felt dizzy. And was drawn to her. I was
again lost in her eyes.

“Oh. Yes. I sure do.”

And she kissed me.

That was all it took. I grabbed her up in my arms, and
again entwined her body in my arms, and felt the passion flow out
of me and into her body. Or perhaps it was the other way around.
All I know is that in that instant I knew that we were going to
make love again. I also knew that I never wanted anything else
out of life but her. She knew too. But we still struggled a

“Oh, please, don’t kiss me anymore.” she said, and stuck
her tongue deeper into my throat.

“We have to stop, Kate. We can’t do this!” I said as I
began to caress her sweet body. She had showered not long before
I had arrived and I tasted a tiny flavor of soap on her face
and then on her breasts, as I peeled back her robe and kissed her.

“Oh god, I know, We can’t. We mustn’t.” But she was trying
to get my belt off. And succeeded. Then she shrugged those
lovely white shoulders and the robe fell away completely.

“Get away from me!” She said fiercely, as she finished
removing my trousers and underwear, and pulled me over on top
of her on her bed.

“We have to stop!” I cried, as I dropped my shirt and
pulled her naked body close to mine.

“Yes, we do. But oh! God! Don’t! Stop!” Her cries
got weaker and weaker. Then she added “Don’t stop!”, and we
laughed, and held each other tight. Then we lay there in silence,
caressing, touching, kissing and tasting. For a long time.
A very long time.

Finally, she moved herself into alignment on top of me, took
my organ in hand and guided me once again to her opening. As I
once again prepared to thrust into her dear body, she added, “At
least don’t come in me this time.”

“Okay.” I said. And I thrust home.

She cried out in joy, and her body thrilled mine with an
instant response. Again we were simply overwhelmed with a desire
and attraction that we just weren’t prepared for. This time it
was even harder to avoid because it was daylight, and her beauty
was mine to see. It was indeed wonderful to behold. Her beauty
was glowing out of her as if it were a great internal light, and
it drew me deeper and deeper into her spell.

Making love to her was so easy and so natural that I felt
as if the wrong times were the times when we were not lying together
naked. The wrong times were those when I was not penetrating deep
into her body with mine. I felt as if I was supposed to be there,
and that she was supposed to be lying on top of me, tickling my
chest with her hardened little nipples. Even though we are both
always totally exhausted after we make love, when we are in the
act, it all seems so very effortless. And each time it seems
to get better.

And that’s the problem. I hadn’t intended to do that, and
she surely had not thought of doing it again. Yet here we were,
pumping madly away at each other, rolling from position to position
as if we were making a demo tape, and doing it as smoothly as if we
had practiced for years.

Then she began to vocalize her joy. She began to cry out
loud, making a rising and falling cry much like a siren. “Ah oooo
ah. AHH oooh AHHH! AoooAHHH AHHH AHHH AHH YAH!” and she
began to spasm mightily. I have no idea how many orgasms she
had at that moment, but she was having a wonderful time. Then
she fell forward on top of me. I held her close and kissed her
eyes, her face, and sniffed her shampoo scented hair. My hands
moved over her sweating body.

My erection stayed deeply penetrated. I waited until her
breathing was nearly normal, and began moving in and out of her
again. She moaned, “Oh god! That feels so good. You feel so
good in me. I like this. I like this a whole lot more than
I ever thought I would, than I ever thought possible even in my
wildest dreams.” She opened her eyes again, found my lips with
hers and we kissed.

“This is wonderful. You’re right.” I said. “I feel as
if I’ve been drugged. I think I’m addicted to you. I love you.
I want to keep doing this. I want to . . . ”

“God, how are we ever going to stop doing this? I don’t
want it to stop either,” She cried. “I want you to love me like
this all day, all night, every morning. Forever.”

I continued to thrust in and out of her as we said all
this, and she continued to push back with her perfect timing
and rhythm. And we steadily got better at it.

“Oh, Kate! We can’t let your parents know. It would
kill them! They’d be so disappointed in us.”

“I’m disappointed in us. I had no idea that this kind
of thing was so easy to fall in to. And I had no idea that this
kind of this would be so easy to want, and so hard to stop. I
like it. (kiss!) A lot!”

I rolled her over on her side and we continued. “Oh,
my dear one, it isn’t this easy. And normally it isn’t this
good. Nothing has ever been this good before. No one can
possibly be this good. If everyone had this much fun, There’d
be a lot fewer divorces.”

She adapted to the change. “Oh Will! I like this
way! Push up a little more. There! That’s it! Oh god!
That feels so good.”

We then made love in silence for a while except for our
grunts and cries that we couldn’t help making. We moved in
and out of several different positions, each one as much fun
as the other. Finally, with her on her back, and her legs
wrapped around my back and hips, and with me kneeling over
her, I announced, “Oh Kate, My love! I’m gonna do it again.
Here it comes. Let go so I can pull out!”

“No! I’m gonna come too! I want it inside me. I
want it there!”

“But I promised!” I cried. “I don’t want to knock
you up! Not til you’re older.”

“I don’t care! I want it in me, and I want it now,
and I don’t care if you do knock me up! I don’t want you to
pull out. It feels too good. Oh god! I’m gonna come too!”

So once again we spasmed against each other, crying,
almost screaming in our fulfillment. We pushed, pressed and
shoved and I blasted my seed deep into her wanting womb, not
with guilt, but with a joy that was so strong, that it must
have been – must be – part of our need for each other.

Finally, our bodies ran out of energy, and we fell over,
juiced out, tired and sweaty. We remained closely entwined,
adjusting only enough so that we could lie so without being
uncomfortable. We kissed, and nibbled, and caressed, and made
funny little love noises to each other. For a long time.

Then I said, “Well, that’s it. We are really lovers,
and it looks very much as if it’s going to remain so. I had
not thought we’d ever do this again. Now I don’t think we
can avoid it. And the worst part about it is that right now I
don’t feel the least bit guilty about anything. Later I

“Oh, yeah. I know what you mean. I feel so good
right now that it’s almost scary. But I don’t think that
I’ll ever feel as bad as I did this morning. I suddenly
thought ‘God, what have I done! I’ve lost my virginity!
And I did it with an old guy! And one that I didn’t even
use to like much.’ and I just sat down and cried.”

“Gee, thanks, I think.” I said.

“Oh silly! Stop it!” she smacked me gently with
her hand. “I guess I do love you. I think I love you more
than I thought it was possible to love, or we’d never be
doing this.” She smiled that incredibly sensual smile of
hers. I kissed it. “Oh. Oooo. I do love you. I love you
so much! Do that again!” So I did.

We smooched for a while. “Darn. I guess I’ll
never get a chance to feel awkward at my honeymoon, will I?”
She thought out loud. I laughed very hard at that.

“Well, assuming it’s me you want to marry, probably
not.” I said.

“And who else could I be in love with? Momma
says I’m not old enough to date yet except in a group. But
come to think of it, who needs to date now. Hey! Did you
kinda just ask me to marry you and didn’t I just say yes?”

“I guess so. I love you enough to do this with
you and risk getting killed! God, you are something
else. Let’s do it as soon as you’re old enough.” It was
her turn to laugh, then.”

“We already did it. And pretty darn good, too,
I suspect.” She kept giggling. “Twice, already!”

“I meant get married. You gotta be eighteen I
think, before we can get a license.” Then I added
ruefully, “And if we’re not careful we’ll have a kid
to be a witness.”

That sobered her up. “Oh. Yeah. Well, I’m sorry,
but when I feel that way, I just don’t want you to stop. I
know you should at least pull out of me, but I like doing it
like that. I like it a lot! I know it’s risky, but at the
moment we’re doing it, it feels so good I don’t care.”

I kissed her some more. “Yeah. I know. And I like
doing it inside you. But still . . . ” She shut me up with her
lips. They tasted so sweet!”

We cuddled some more. “do you think we’ll feel guilty
again tomorrow?” She asked.

“Probably. At least a little. But I don’t think it’ll
be as bad as I felt this morning. Your dad called and said you
were having a bad morning, and I was so bombed out I had trouble
talking to him. I ran right over, to apologize and try and make
amends. I had no idea that we’d do it again.”

“I had no idea we were going to do it the first time! And
I certainly had no idea that when I stayed home from school I was
gonna get a love lesson.” She giggled and kissed me. Her giggle
is like a tinkling bell. It is cute, sexy, and very pleasing to
my ear. And it is as pleasing now, twenty years later.

“Very funny. Your teacher is not amused. And he isn’t a
very good teacher, either, because he’s learned a lot from his
student.” I said.

“Can we do more homework?” She said as she nuzzled around
my neck. “I like my teacher. He’s really cool. And he smells
nice. He’s also really strong and smart, and makes love real good
for an old guy. When can we practice some more? If we’re gonna
do this, we may as well get as good at it as we can.”

“Greedy.” I said.

“Yup.” She replied.

“Horny.” I added.

“Probably later.” She giggled again.

“Sticky.” I said as I moved my fingers through her
sweaty hairline.

“So let’s take a shower.” She giggled back.

“Okay.” And we did. Good timing, too, because we had no
sooner gotten dry and dressed than people started getting home.
But our first shower together was nearly as much fun as making
love. It felt so good rubbing her soapy body with mine.

Kate was in such a good mood that afternoon that no one
could figure out what had happened. Thank god. But her mom and
dad were very grateful that I had “broken her out of her snit”.
I’m just glad that they assumed that I done so with talk.

I did stay for dinner, and had a grand time as usual.
Kate sat next to me this time, and we chatted and talked like
the lovers we now were. But no one guessed yet.

As I left that night, I met her in the kitchen. We snuck
out into the back yard. She bent over the picnic table, and I
slipped it into her from behind. It was the first of many
quickies that we would take over the next few months and
years. It was not as satisfying as the times when we could
take the time to fully satisfy and please each other, but it
was still damn nice.

I plunged in and out of her, making her cry out several
times. Til her dad came over to the window of the family room
which we could see into, and closed the window. “Damn cats.”
he said. We laughed until we came. Then we tenderly kissed
each other good-night. I made her promise to see the school
nurse and get some protection going. I figured that one more
risk that night added to what we had done the night before
and that afternoon wasn’t that much worse. But we had to
start doing something – if it wasn’t already too late – to
try and avoid pregnancy. She reluctantly agreed. I think
she may have almost wanted to get pregnant.

Sure enough, the next morning, she called me at work
from school, and let me know that she was feeling a little bit
guilty. But then she’d just think of how she’d felt, and right
away she’d start feeling better. As a matter of fact, getting
birth control had made her want to try it. We made arrangements
right then and there for meeting after school. I met her a couple
blocks away, we went to an isolated park, and we did it in the
back seat of my car. Made a stain there, too. Somehow, we’d
managed to mess on our clothing instead of the couch, and we’d
done it on her bathrobe so as to not soil her bedding. We
forgot in the car. Oh well.

I dropped her off at home and stayed away til later.
She “went for a walk” and we met as planned, and damned if we
didn’t get horny and do it again.

Sunday, we sat next to each other in church, and as
we felt guilty during the preacher’s sermon, we’d steal glances
at each other. When I looked up a couple of verses of “The
Song of Solomon” and showed then to her, she smacked me. But
she read them. Several times. I was invited to dinner, and
for one reason or another, we were just not able to be alone
that night. She called me at home, very early in the morning.


“Oh, Will. I need you.”

“Oh. OH! It’s you, sweety. I know. I haven’t been
able to sleep either. God I miss you. I want you so bad.”

“Yeah. Me too. I almost wish we hadn’t started. I
had no idea that I could want something so much.”

“I know what you mean. I don’t think it hits most people
like it has us. We’re just a very horny couple of lovers, that’s
all. Anyway, I didn’t know I could feel this way either, so
I guess we’ll just have to live with it.”

“God. I don’t think I want to live at all, without it.”

We made arrangements. I met her before school, and we
went to the park again and had sex. Then I took her to a
restaurant and we had breakfast. As I was taking her to
school, we found an alley and did it again. She spend the
whole morning walking around with my sperm in her. She was
delighted with the feeling. I went to work and had one of
the most productive days of my life.


This is the way things went for a long time, with us
finding moments and even seconds when we could have sex. It
was sometimes hard even to just cop a quick feel. Occasionally
we were able to do it in her bedroom on her own bed again. She
especially enjoyed that. We yearned for a chance to really spend
the time to try and wear each other out, and revel in our new-found

Kate is nobody’s fool. She talked her parents into
letting her house-sit for a couple going on vacation. As soon
as she knew it was okay, she told me. Then she talked her dad
into asking me to come over occasionally to check on her since
I lived quite close. I was “reluctant” but agreed to do so.

Those were quite possibly the finest two weeks of our two
lives until we finally got married. We not only slept together and
ate together as if we were married, we bathed and did our toilets
together, too. We were so deeply in love that we didn’t even
want to get out of sight of each other. She was out of school,
and spent her days working on the house. I’d run home from
work for lunch and we’d do a quickie. When I got home for
dinner, we’d sometimes let it get a little cold while we satisfied
other appetites. Bedtime was always early because it took us
a long time to make love and wear each other out for sleep.

Waking up in the night with her body cuddled next to
mine was a preview of heaven, for me. What a girl. Girl?
No way! What a woman! And she loves me, wants me and
needs me! Wow. How good life can be, I marveled.

From Friday night to Monday morning, all we did was
make love, in one way or another. We had sex two or three
times a day, but during the times when we weren’t, we were
holding and caressing each other, kissing and cuddling, or
simply lying there together nude, talking about the small
things that make life together for a man and a woman either
unbearable or a pure pleasure. One guess what it was for us.

It was also a mistake. I think our original idea had
been something like “Let’s do it a whole lot and get it out of
our systems.” All it did was make each of us desire the other
more. When we had to quit the marriage game and go back
to our old daily routine, it was hell. Neither of us could sleep.
We were both horny as hell all the time. We each missed our
mate, our partner, our buddy and our lover. We were (and are)
all of these things together and more.

We had to fall back on our old habit of stealing time
from the day and evening so that we could have sex. She made
up every story she could, and called in favors from school
friends like you wouldn’t believe so that we could sneak her
in to my apartment and have an evening and the occasional
overnight visit filled with wonderful love, and almost
non-stop sex.

It got very difficult, though. A big family dinner had
been planned, and everyone went out as a family group
to do the special shopping. Kate and I paired off with part
of the list, and did our part very quickly. We met with the
others, and got in line – just ahead of Art and Mary – and
started checking through. Me and Kate had Nelly, the youngest
of the family, in our cart. The checkout girl complemented me
and Kate on our obvious happiness as a married couple, and on
our cute child. Then she wondered out loud to Kate why she
wasn’t wearing a wedding band.

We were – needless to say – very discomfited. Will and
Mary were very highly amused. For a while. But over the next
few weeks, they started putting two and two together and getting
an answer that made them very nervous. One day, they casually
asked Kate why she wasn’t going out on dates any more. Without
thinking, she replied, “Don’t want to. Don’t need to.” Then she
caught herself, and realized that she had been about to say that
she had me and didn’t want or need anyone else, and stopped
just in time.

A couple of weeks later, they sat us down together and had
a long talk. They pointed out the grocery store incident, and a
dozen others of like nature. They pointed out incidents like the
time when the family was watching a “Popeye” cartoon, and he wound
up smooching Olive Oyl. Olive said, “Don’t! (smooch) Stop! (smooch)
Don’t (smooch) Stop! (smooch) Don’t stop! (smooch) Don’t stop!
(smooch . . . )” and Kate and I broke up laughing with a mutual
amusement far out of proportion to the actual joke. We’d remembered
our own similar dialogue during our second session. Art and Mary
quite calmly pointed out that we had been spending far too much time
together and were getting far too close. (If they had only known!)
And that they were worried that we were going to become involved.

We handled it quite well. We listened, looked surprised,
looked at each other and broke up laughing, saying “Us? Me and
Him? Oh, that’s funny! and so on as if we had rehearsed it.
They were convinced that we were telling the truth, but they
saw the signs of what they thought was an impending love affair,
between two people who were in denial. Chief among them I found
out later was that we had developed little ‘inside’ jokes like
the “Popeye” cartoon incident that nobody but us understood.
This is a characteristic normally found only (Mary said) in
long term, very happily married couples. They ‘surprised’ Kate
with a summer trip to visit her grandparents as a seventeenth
birthday present.

What could we do? We just gritted our teeth and tried to
practice being away from each other. Nothing has ever been more
difficult. We couldn’t do it. We were addicted. We had developed
a need for each other that we could no longer hide at least from
ourselves. We still had to steal time for the occasional quickie.
Then the summer came and Kate went.

Mary told me much later that when we saw Kate off at the
airport, I looked as if part of my soul was leaving, and that the
heart went out of me for the rest of the summer. I guess it did.
I tried, and so did Kate, but we just weren’t happy without each
other. By this time, it was far more than sex. I think that we
really had exchanged part of our souls, or something, because it
was terrible being apart.

We tried dating others. Kate won’t talk about her
experiences, and it’s probably just as well. For myself, it
wasn’t long before I realized that I just plain wasn’t interested
in other women any more. If she wasn’t Kate, then it was useless
to even try. I just couldn’t get interested.

Art and Mary are really and truly good friends, and soon
became deeply concerned about my loss of interest in life. They
didn’t know that Kate was spending most of her free time lost in
day dreams (of me), and in reading romance novels. Her Grandparents
thought that she’d become a quiet, studious child, and didn’t worry.

One day, I happened to walk in the door just as the phone
rang. It was Kate, calling home. Mary talked to her for a while,
and then said, “Will’s here. Wanta talk to him?”

Cool Kate said. “Well, okay. I guess so.” Her heart (She
said later) was doing backflips. I don’t think it fooled her mom.

I wasn’t so good at it. “Oh yeah! I’d love to!”

I think the phone conversation sealed our fate. Art and Mary
watched my face light up and saw the old Will come back to life right
before their very eyes. They were deeply touched by our devotion to
each other, even though (they thought) that we were still in denial of
having a very special relationship. The difference in our ages was
offset by our obvious affection for and need of each other. Plus
they had no idea that we were lovers. (Still don’t. That’s why
all the names have been changed. God bless ’em they think Kate
went to the altar a virgin. I’m not gonna tell ’em, and Kate sure
isn’t. Please, you don’t tell either, okay?)

They decided that they’d let us alone and see what happened.
They were still kind of hoping that we’d not continue, but they saw
the pain that Kate and I had felt when we were apart. Once she
came home, the joy that came into each of us in the simple presence
of the other became apparent. They became sympathetic. Against their
better judgment (perhaps), and with the compassion of two loving
parents, and as two very good friends, they didn’t try to keep us
apart any more.

We tried to hide our feelings, but by then everyone could
tell. I know my telling may make it seem like we were pretty
indiscreet, but we were actually pretty careful. No one ever
caught us making love. We finally started going out on real
dates, and we just kept on getting closer, and our lovemaking
just kept on getting better and better. Every time we made
love, we liked it more. Finally, a couple months after Kate’s
twentieth birthday, we got married.

Kids, money trouble, problems with people who think I’m a
rotten S.O.B. for marrying a young girl, and so on. Yet we are
still happy, still have incredibly fulfilling sex, and are just as
deeply in love now as we were on that first passionate kitchen
encounter. We still absolutely hate being apart. As we get older
we are finding that we’re starting to think about opening our own
business so that we don’t ever have to be apart again. Eat your
heart out, you jealous ones. And for those of you who
understand, may you be as lucky as Kate and Me.

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