Chapter 1

“When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. When I became a man, I put away childish things.” 1 Corinthians 13:11

I was born and raised a Catholic. I saw things as black or white when I was growing up. One day that changed. I thought I understood what St. Paul meant in that verse. I understood the verse as a child. One unexpected day I learned the world is not black or white but many shades of gray.

I am Katie North, the fourteen year-old younger daughter of Jeremy and Kathy North. I am a ninth grade student at the Avon Grove High School, raised by my loving parents. They were childhood friends, high school sweethearts and college lovers. They celebrated the twentieth anniversary of their marriage this past February.

Two facts have defined my family. My Dad is a football player and coach. My parents are deeply committed members of the Roman Catholic Church. My eighteen year-old sister, Allison, and I were raised in the Faith.

Dad currently works as the defensive coordinator for the Philadelphia Eagles under head coach Kyle Martin. To me he’s Uncle Kyle. Uncle Kyle and Aunt Penny aren’t really my aunt and uncle but they are long-time family friends who are too close to be Mr. and Dr. Martin to my sister and me. The situation is similar with Uncle Ed and Aunt Rose. Uncle Ed, properly, Ed Fritz, works for Uncle Kyle as the Eagles quarterbacks coach. My Dad, Uncle Kyle and Uncle Ed played football together as kids. All three made it into college football, where they excelled.

Dad attended Notre Dame University, playing linebacker for the team. The Chicago Bears drafted Dad and he went on to have a thirteen year, Pro Bowl career manning the middle of the Bears’ defense. Uncle Kyle set just about every receiving record in college and was drafted by the Denver Broncos. Uncle Kyle had a Hall of Fame career there before going into coaching. Uncle Ed’s career was not as acclaimed. He played in Arizona, Tennessee, Minnesota, Jacksonville and Los Angeles in his career as a journeyman quarterback. Uncle Ed made one Pro Bowl, the year he took the Jacksonville Jaguars to the playoffs.

Allison and I were born when we lived in Chicago. Dad retired after thirteen seasons and took a job coaching linebackers at Notre Dame University, his old college. I loved living in South Bend. It was much more of a country setting than our old home in Chicago. Dad did well as a coach. He was promoted to defensive coordinator for the Fighting Irish after three seasons coaching linebackers.

My family’s life changed dramatically three years ago one February night when Uncle Kyle called. He was hired to restore the Philadelphia Eagles to winning ways. Uncle Kyle asked Dad to coach linebackers for the team, a big promotion from coaching in college. Better yet, Dad would have Larry Czarwinski, known to all as “Coach C,” as his boss and mentor. Coach C would coach the defense for two years and then turn the job of defensive coordinator job over to Dad. Dad was hesitant about taking the offer. He loved working at Notre Dame.

Uncle Kyle’s daughter, Jessie, texted me when she heard the news and welcomed Allison and me to “horse country” as she termed southern Chester County, Pennsylvania. Allison and I have always loved horses and wanted to have our own. That was impossible in Chicago and would have been difficult in South Bend. Allison and I pushed Dad hard to accept the new job. Mom liked the idea of living closer to our grandparents too. Both sets of grandparents live on the same street in Paradise, PA, the next county west of Chester County. In the end Dad accepted Uncle Kyle’s offer and we got our horses. Aunt Penny, a veterinarian, helped Mom buy Jersey Boy for me and Delphia for Allison.

We settled into our new home in Chester County. I went to St. Mary’s Elementary, the local Catholic school nearby in West Grove. Unfortunately my sister Allison couldn’t stay in parochial school. The Catholic high school was located in Downingtown. We live in the southern end of Chester County, nearly into Delaware and Maryland. The high school was too far for Dad or Mom to drive us before work. The church runs a bus from the center of West Grove to Bishop Shanahan but it would take over an hour to get to school and another hour to get home again. The local public school, Avon Grove School District, was well regarded, so Allison became a public school student.

Allison started dating when we moved to Kemblesville. That drove Dad crazy. Thankfully for me, he calmed down by the time I started dating last year when I was in eighth grade. I did some group dates with my friends from school. My first solo date was with Dylan Reynolds last spring. Dylan was a cute boy with a kind personality. I knew Dylan through his dad, the offensive coordinator for the Eagles. Dylan was in eighth grade at the local public school, Engle Middle School, rather than St. Mary’s.

Dylan took me bowling. We had a fun time. His mom gave him a minute to walk me to my door at the end of the date. We kissed. Oh God! Dylan was a good kisser. He asked me for a second date before he parted. We went to the movies the next weekend. We spent a good part of the movie kissing. It was amazing. By our third date, Dylan asked me to go steady. I accepted.

The two of us learned about kissing, making out and more. Allison counseled me on what was proper. She felt it was OK for an eighth grader to allow the boy to feel up her titties. That felt even better than kissing! We went together for over two months. By last May we were getting more and more intimate. One night I allowed Dylan to put his hand up my skirt – strictly hands outside my panties. His caressing and rubbing felt amazing. Too amazing.

I am a dedicated Catholic believing in the teachings I learned from my priests and nuns. I believe it is a mortal sin to fornicate outside of marriage. Dylan was not a church goer, Protestant or Catholic, so he did not have those qualms. He kept putting moves on me to go further. I resisted. Dylan wanted us to go all the way – to fornicate. He teased me about me calling it fornication. He said it was just a little recreational sex and everyone was doing it. I refused. He tried to put his hand inside my panties. I blocked his move. He called me a cock tease and said I was frigid. We broke up that night because he insisted we have sex and I refused categorically.

A week later, on the last day of school, Colin Cavanaugh, a cute boy in my class at St. Mary’s, asked me for a date. I accepted. We had a good time. He asked me to go steady after our fourth date. I had to teach Colin some of the things I learned from Dylan about kissing and making out. He was a quick learner. It was an idyllic summer for both of us. I got to feel the lump in his pants more than once. He always got hard when we made out. My boyfriend was well endowed. Colin accepted my limits of second base. He didn’t push to go further.

Colin’s parents were in the same bind as mine with regard to Catholic high school. We started public high school at Avon Grove at the end of August. Colin and I were afraid the students at the school would be undisciplined. They were fairly well behaved. The teachers and principals were good. The choice to go to public school turned out to be a good one. It beat wasting a couple hours a day on buses riding to and from Downingtown.

A few of my Catholic school friends made the same choice as Colin and me. I also got to see more of my non-parochial friends. One of those was Edward Fritz, Junior, better known as EJ. EJ is Uncle Ed’s oldest. Colin and I even double-dated with EJ and his current girlfriend, Ava Mullins. I also got to see more of Uncle Kyle’s third child, Danny Martin. Danny was in eleventh grade, two grades ahead of Colin, EJ, Ava and me.

I reconnected with Dylan Reynolds again. I let bygones be bygones. Dylan was “in love” with his current girlfriend, Lydia Ferguson. Rumors around school said Lydia relieved Dylan of the burden of his virginity at a Labor Day Weekend party. Colin and I planned to stay true to our Faith and stay celibate until we grew up and married.

My childish outlook on life changed one Friday afternoon just before Halloween. The teachers had a conference after school, so Colin didn’t have soccer practice like normal. We got permission from our parents for Colin to ride his bike over to my house after school so we could go out riding. Mom would feed Colin supper and then give him a ride over to Tony Russo’s house for the rest of the weekend. Colin’s parents were going out of town.

We enjoyed Indian summer through much of the week. Temperatures were in the mid-seventies, flirting with breaking the 79 degree record. The weather was perfect for Colin and me to ride Jersey Boy and Delphia through our neighbor’s woods down to the creek, follow the creek to the township park and then back again. It was a seven mile ride, perfect for after school and before dinner.

Colin showed up fifteen minutes after the school bus dropped me off at my house. We saddled up the horses and rode off. We ignored the dark clouds to the northwest, a fateful mistake. Colin and I were about half way to the park when the dark clouds blew in, dropping the temperature nearly thirty degrees in minutes. The clouds cut loose, drenching us with heavy, cold rain.

If we have been closer to the park we could have rode on and taken shelter in one of the pavilions. As it was we were halfway between home and the park. I turned back and led Colin and Delphia back to our barn. We ended up soaked to the bone, shivering and nearly hypothermic when we got back. We put the horses away quickly and headed into my house. The laundry room doubled as the back entrance to our house.

“What now?” Colin asked me.

“Let’s strip off these wet things,” I suggested. “We can run them through the drier in half an hour.”

“Um ... OK,” Colin agreed. I pulled off my soaked sweatshirt and T-shirt in one motion. My boyfriend hadn’t made a move.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“You expect me to get naked in front of you?” Colin said.

“Keep your boxers on,” I replied. “Jeez ... I’ve seen as much when we went to Danny’s [Martin] swim party on Labor Day.”

“Yeah ... I guess,” Colin conceded reluctantly. He undressed, tossing his clothes into the drier after mine. Soon we standing there, me in panties and a sports bra and Colin in a light blue pair of compression boxer/briefs.

I should describe my sexy boyfriend. He’s 5’-4” tall and weighs in at 106 pounds. He is well muscled, as you would expect from a gymnast and soccer player. His tight boxers accented what I considered his best feature – his cute butt. What I’d like to do if I had my hands on that butt. I’ll have to do a couple Hail Marys for that impure thought.

“Let’s go upstairs and look for some robes,” I suggested after Colin shivered. He followed me upstairs. “Try Dad’s robe,” I suggested pointing at my parents’ bedroom door. “It’s usually hanging on the inside of the bathroom door.” I went to my bedroom and grabbed my robe and put it on.

I had to laugh when Colin joined me in my room. My Dad’s robe hung down and dragged on the floor. “What do you think of my look?” Colin asked, laughing too.

“Try this robe,” I replied, still laughing. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Dad’s robe didn’t fit Colin. My dad is 6’-3” tall, and still goes about 210 pounds, down forty pounds from his playing weight when he was a linebacker for the Chicago Bears.

My mom and I are about the same size, 5’-2”. Thankfully my older sister Allison, who inherited Dad’s height, also inherited Mom’s build. She is 5’-11” tall and 135 pounds. Allison also inherited our father’s athleticism. She is a freshman at Syracuse, on their basketball team.

My boyfriend looked worse in Allison’s robe. It was too short, coming down to his mid-thigh. Worse, it didn’t come the whole way around to meet in the front. My boyfriend’s hard penis tented his boxers, splitting the robe open.

“What do you think?” Colin asked, modelling the robe.

“Someone is thinking sinful thoughts,” I responded.

“I’m a guy,” Colin said. “What do you expect? I am in my girlfriend’s bedroom dressed only in boxers. You’re wearing panties and a bra.” He dropped the robe to the floor.

“There is another way we could stay warm,” Colin suggested. “We could generate our own heat. What do you say to picking up where we left off last Saturday night at the movies?”

“Now there is a sinful idea I can go along with,” I agreed. I pulled Colin into my bed. We lay on our sides, facing each other. We hugged and began making out. Our lips locked together and our tongues sought each other. Touching and twisting, exploring and probing, our lustfulness grew as we stimulated each other.

Colin and I had been making out since soon after we started dating. Colin and I had a slow start but we knew how to maximize our pleasure deep kissing. We went on quite a while, lost to everything but each other.

Colin started wiggling his hips as we made out. Wouldn’t you know that his boxer-covered, swollen penis found its way right against my camel toe? God! That felt good. I started humping my hips to continue the pressure his penis was making against my vulva.

“May I play with your breasts?” Colin asked. His bulge rubbed right across my clitoris.

“Ooohh! Yes!” I gasped. Before I could explain myself, Colin slipped a hand between our bodies, slipped my sports bra up and began caressing my breasts. The “is this too much?” I wanted to ask turned into “This is nice,” as he felt me up. Colin’s hip wiggling become more organized as he hunched his hips and slid every inch of his hardened bulge across my vulva.

I knew I should be taking control now. Mom and the nuns said that it was essential for a girl’s purity to make sure a boy doesn’t overwhelm us with good feelings and bring us to sin. My control of this situation was growing tenuous but it felt too good to call a halt to our activities.

Colin sat back on his haunches. His other hand pushed my sports bra up so he could play with my right breast too. “Why don’t you take this off?” my boyfriend asked politely. I didn’t object as he pulled my sports bra over my head and tossed it on the floor.

My guy leaned down and began kissing me again while he used both hands to stimulate my breasts. I had no idea they were so sensitive. I could feel my vagina tingle and grow wetter as Colin felt me up. After minute or so of deep kissing, Colin shifted his kissing to my cheek, then to my ear lobe and finally down across my neck to my cleavage and then right onto my left breast.

Mmmmm ... Kissing and nipples go together well. Colin kissed and licked around the nipple and finally sucked it into his mouth. I felt a gush of juice in my vulva. He suckled at my sensitive nipple for about thirty seconds before repeating the process with my right breast. I knew Colin had to feel how wet I was becoming as his hardened penis bumped against my vulva.

My boyfriend continued playing with my breasts for a few minutes. Colin rubbed my belly with one hand while the other continued playing with a breast. He slid the hand lower until he reached the hem of my panties.

My eyes flew open as I realized what Colin planned. “We can’t go all the way!” I insisted as I grabbed his arm and pulled it away.

“Please!” Colin begged.

“Fornication is a mortal sin,” I replied. “What would we say to Father Kelly during confession this weekend?”

“What we are doing now is a sin too,” Colin retorted. “Lust in thought is just as bad as lust in deed. You can’t tell me you aren’t tempted to try sex.” He stared directly into my eyes. I couldn’t lie. This all felt so good. I was tempted to allow Colin to continue lower. I understood where allowing more could go.

“If I am going to do penance for lust, I am going to get maximum pleasure from my sin before I confess to the Father,” Colin said.

“That not how you’re supposed...” I started. Colin leaned down and drowned out my objection with a deep kiss. He hunched his hips up and down my vulva again, spreading a tingle through my vulva as he stimulated me. I wiggled my hips in time to Colin’s thrusts.

Colin’s rubbing at my bottom felt wonderful. The deep kissing was fantastic too. My vulva seemed saturated. I could feel it making Colin’s boxers wet and slick too. His penis felt so nice rubbing against me. No wonder boys called them boners. Time passed in a swirl of kisses and hunching our bottoms together, overstimulating both of us.

Once when we paused kissing to catch our breath, Colin asked, “Could I see all of you? I know we aren’t going all the way today, but can I at least see how beautiful you look?”

“Look?” I said, blinking my eyes quickly. Could that hurt? “OK, just look.”

Colin climbed off me. He reached down for my panties. I raised my hips off the bed and allowed him to remove them, leaving my bare-assed naked. I lay back on the bed and allowed my legs to fall open. I knew I was completely vulnerable now. If Colin choose to force me into sex, I had no defense left. I also knew Colin would never force the issue. I allowed him to stare at my vulva.

“I can’t see much, except for the wet slot,” Colin said. “Could I touch you so I can see better?”

“Just touch with your fingers?” I asked. He nodded yes. “OK, be gentle.”

He used two fingers to pull my outer vulva open. “It’s pink inside,” Colin commented as he dipped his fingers between my outer lips and inner lips. He moved his two fingers up and down my slot. “It’s really soft and really wet.”

“You have me excited,” I explained. “It happens when my body thinks it is about to have sex. Which we are NOT going to have.”

“No of course not,” Colin agreed. His fingers continued exploring my vulva. “Where does a boy go?”