Author's Note: This is a sequel of sorts to my novella Chasing Lolita, which was posted here in 2001. In addition to posting this new story, I have also completely re-edited the original and have reposted it. It isn't necessary to read Chasing Lolita to understand CL2, but it might give you better insight into the characters and their history ... Sam.
Kimmy Masterson sat on the white rattan bench seat in front of her big bay window and stared out at the house next door. It was where her boyfriend Sam had lived before he went to prison. At sixteen, Kimmy felt like her life was already over.
Twelve years! she thought. How could she wait twelve years for Sam to get out of jail?
She knew she would wait, though. After all, Sam had been her first ... in fact, her only.
Kimmy's mind drifted back to that hot day last September when she went next door to ask Laurie if she could use the pool. Laurie was Sam's girlfriend at the time, and though three years older than Kimmy, the two girls had hit it off right from the start.
That sultry September afternoon, when Sam told Kimmy that Laurie had moved out, Kimmy started to cry. She really liked Laurie. Not that she didn't like Sam, too. Even though he was forty, she had always thought he was hot, especially when she ogled him through her bedroom window swimming laps in his sexy Speedo. It never crossed her mind at the time, though, to make a move on him. After all, Laurie was her friend.
Sam had looked terrible that day, and he had reeked of booze. Kimmy still didn't know exactly what triggered their tryst. Sam joined her in the backyard for a swim, she asked him to put sunscreen on her shoulders, and the next thing she knew he was lathering it all over her body. He seemed out of it, in a daze. Maybe that explained how his fingers ended up in her pussy, Kimmy wasn't sure. Regardless, it had felt delicious, naughty, and Kimmy had experienced her very first orgasm that day under Sam's probing digits.
Afterward she felt she owed him a similar turn, so she jerked him off until he sprayed her body down with cum, even shooting some onto her face and lips. That was when she discovered she liked the taste of it. And when Sam carried her like a weightless marionette up to his bedroom, she discovered she liked fucking even more.
They tried it all that day—oral, vaginal, anal—and Kimmy fell totally, irretrievably in love. If not for that slut Nikki, she and Sam probably would still be together. Kimmy didn't know whether a thirteen-year-old girl could technically seduce a forty-year-old man, but she was sure that was what Nikki had done with Sam. And the Sam she knew would never have abused drugs the way the newspapers reported at the time of his sentencing. It must have been Nikki's influence, of that Kimmy was positive.
Now Kimmy had no one left to talk with, no one to help her work through this morass of confusion that was darkening her soul. Her parents had divorced when she was five, and during the week her mother trotted the globe for Centrodyne Inc., a local high-tech firm. Kimmy couldn't talk to her mother about this anyway, even on the weekends when she was home. Mrs. Masterson didn't know about Sam, didn't know that he and Kimmy had been living together during the week, fucking like two school kids at summer camp. And Kimmy couldn't confess that to her now, she just couldn't.
Kimmy was sure Sam had protected her from the maelstrom that surrounded his arrest. The police had interviewed her, but they obviously didn't know she and Sam were lovers. She had sent numerous letters to Sam in jail, but he hadn't replied to one. What did that mean? Didn't he love her anymore? Or was he still trying to protect her? Damn it, she didn't need protecting! She was sixteen, almost a woman. All she wanted was an indication, some small sign, that he still cared for her, and she would wait for him like a stoic princess would abide her Prince Charming. Or at least she would try. Now that the sexual floodgates had been opened, she didn't know if she could go without fucking for twelve years. But she would take that challenge as it came, one day at a time. Twelve years. Four thousand, three hundred and eighty days. Oh God!
If only she had a confidant. Other than Sam and Nikki, her only other close friend was Laurie. But Kimmy had spoken to Laurie only once since she left Sam for that black boy. What was his name? Oh yes—Junior. Kimmy couldn't understand why Laurie would trade someone as sexy as Sam for another man, let alone a black one. Not that Kimmy was prejudiced. Black men had just never appealed to her. Granted, she hadn't been exposed to many, but the ones she had met seemed so arrogant, so full of themselves. Luckily, living in the whitebread section of the city she didn't have much to do with them.
Kimmy reached for the telephone on the dark oak stand beside the bench. Her hand trembled for a second, and then she grabbed the receiver and punched in Laurie's number. She had looked it up earlier but was hesitant to call. But now that she had examined all her options, she realized she didn't have a choice. Laurie was the only one she could talk to. Kimmy didn't know if Laurie knew about her and Sam. She hoped it wouldn't come as too big a shock, wouldn't turn her friend against her. She didn't think it would. After all, it was Laurie who had walked out on Sam, not vice versa.
The phone rang twice, three times, and a deep basso voice answered. "Hello?"
Kimmy didn't reply. The shock of hearing what was obviously a black man's voice rattled her. She had expected Laurie to pick up the phone.
The voice growled, "Who is this?"
"I—is Laurie there?" Kimmy asked.
"Just a minute."
She heard the man holler, and then Laurie came on the line. "Hello?"
"Hi, Laurie. It's me ... Kimmy."
"Kimmy! How are you, girl?"
"Okay, I guess."
"You sound a little down. Is everything all right?"
"Yes ... I mean, no ... I mean ... well, some things have happened. I really need to talk to somebody. I thought maybe we could—"
"Absolutely!" Laurie said. "I haven't seen you in so long. Let's get together and have a good old chinwag."
Kimmy was relieved, at least for the moment. She still wasn't sure how Laurie would take the news that she had fucked her ex-boyfriend. Kimmy didn't want to break that to her over the phone, though. "Great," she said. "Can you come over this afternoon?"
"Over there?" Laurie hesitated. "Gee, I don't know. I mean, with Sam's situation and all. Is the neighborhood still crawling with cops?"
"They still come around," Kimmy said, "but not as much. I think they've got everything they need."
"I just don't want to get involved in that mess. You know?"
"Sure," Kimmy said. She tried to keep her voice light, but her heart felt like a block of cement.
"Why don't you come over here?" Laurie said. "Bring your PJs and we'll have a sleepover, just like old times."
"I-I don't know..." Kimmy hesitated. Not only was she apprehensive about being under the same roof with a black man, she was responsible for looking after her house while her mother was out of town.
"Come on," Laurie said. "It'll do you good to get away from there for a while."
Kimmy didn't speak for several seconds. Then: "Well ... okay, I guess."
"Good," Laurie said, and gave her directions.
Laurie lived on the far side of town. It would take two or three bus transfers to get there. Kimmy would have to get ready first—shower, pick out some clothes, pack an overnight bag. With the time on the bus, she figured it would be mid-afternoon before she could arrive.
"How does three o'clock sound?" she asked.
"Great," Laurie said. "That'll give you a chance to meet the guys."
"Yeah. Junior, Dearl, and James."
"Oh." Kimmy hadn't realized Laurie was living with three men. A lump swelled in her throat. But she couldn't back out now.
"Three o'clock?" Laurie said.
"Three o'clock," Kimmy agreed.
Goodbyes were said, and Kimmy hung up the phone. She had best get started. She couldn't wait to bare her soul to her friend, and hopefully get some direction to help her navigate through this dilemma.
Laurie replaced the handset in the cradle and returned to the kitchen to finish the previous night's dishes. Kimmy! Imagine! She hadn't heard from her little friend in such a long time. In fact, she could only remember speaking to her once since she'd moved in with Junior and his housemates, and then for just a few minutes. It was going to be nice having some laughs over old times. Maybe Kimmy could give her the straight poop on what had happened with Sam. All Laurie knew was what she'd read in the newspapers. After leaving Sam for Junior she had never spoken to him again nor tried to keep up with the goings-on in his life. The accounts she'd read had come as quite a shock—possession of cocaine, pimping, sex with minors. The papers reported that the two girls involved were thirteen and fourteen. Laurie knew that Sam liked them young—she was only eighteen herself the first time they fucked—but, geez, these were little teenyboppers! Oh well, she supposed Sam would have the next twelve years to reconsider his faux pas.
Laurie rinsed a plate under the tap and was setting it in the dish-rack when she felt something hard poke against her butt. Before she could turn around, two big black hands encircled her from behind and smothered her breasts through her T-shirt. A blue onyx ring the size of a robin's egg sat on the pinky finger of the right hand.
.... There is more of this story ...