Chapter 5: School Night

For the next few days, we did little but cut firewood, shoot targets, and get Cheryl ready for school. I grilled her about her background while we practiced shooting. The nervousness made her edgy and constantly at my side. The night before school, she spent the evening in my lap while I read ‘Dune.’ She didn’t say anything much all evening. Instead, she was content only with my company.

When I finally said, “Cheryl, it’s time for bed. You start school in the morning,” did she look up with a sultry yet innocent look that Betty Davis would envy.

Not breaking eye contact, she asked, “Can I sleep with you tonight? I promise I’ll keep my PJs on and be good.” It was a bit of an admission that her climbing on me naked and rubbing her pussy’s slit up and down my cock wasn’t her being good.

“You know my bed is too small for two people unless you are basically on top of me. And you won’t get the good night’s sleep you need.” I said, in the way of an answer.

“I can make a bed here on the floor. There will be lots of room then.” She countered.

“Cheryl, I understand you’re nervous. It is going to be fine. I’m sure you’ll have friends in no time. After all, you’re smart, fun, and funny.” I said again, not directly answering her question. I wouldn’t cut off the possibility, but I wouldn’t encourage it either.

“No, I’m not. I had friends once in Denver, but they all turned on me. They called me a slut and a whore.” She began sniffling. Tears filled her eyes, but didn’t run down her face. “I don’t think I can stand that again.”

“My beautiful and delightful young lady,” I started. “I’m sorry for what your brother and stepmom did to you. And what your former friends did wasn’t right either. You know you don’t have to worry about that here.”

“Yeah. But that is here, not at school,” she replied. “And the new kid is always picked on.”

“I’m sure they won’t do that,” I reassured her.

“I know they won’t, ‘cause I’ll cap their ass if they do.” She said, fairly flat.

“Not funny,” I said, “and no way to show me you’re mature enough to keep your presents. And definitely not a way to not make trouble for me.”

“You know I won’t do that. I appreciate all you have done for me too much to do something that would cause you or me trouble.” She tried walking back the imprudent comment.

“Good, I wouldn’t like to think I’m that bad a judge of character,” I stated. “Now go get ready and come back here and go to sleep.”

She did as asked and came back in wearing sweats that hid all of her fine figure behind the loose, heavy material. She looked at me with an apologetic smile and, in a quivering voice, said, “I know I don’t say it enough, but thanks for saving me.” She leaned down and kissed my lips. For the first time in a while, she didn’t try to French kiss me. It was a soft, sensual kiss, unlike anything she had done to date. It didn’t last long, but long enough for me to not want it to end.

I got up, turned off the lights, and went to get ready for bed. While I stripped off my clothes to climb into my small bed, all I could think of was Cheryl’s kiss. I felt like such a degenerate wanting to experience more kisses like the latest one while at the same time having her graceful, slender, and vulnerable body merged with mine. The yearning was just too strong to resist.

I gave in only a little, but it was proof that my willpower alone would someday totally fail me. That night, I put on my sweats without anything beneath them. Cheryl had her back turned, facing the back of the couch, when I came back into the room. Quietly, I put down covers and blankets, making a bed for two on the floor. Before I finished, she turned and looked up at me, “What are you doing?”