Chapter 1

Me and my dog, Greg, walked into the park. Greg was excited, happy; like a dog should be.

And I felt the same way, which was a bit more complex to judge.

Anyway, Greg saw his pal Henry and ran to meet him. I saw Sheena, her gleaming blond hair, her face turned, she saw me, and she smiled.

My heart sort of jumped; well sure, she was gorgeous, sexy, and her eyes were like jewels. No, that’s not right; Jewels try to look like her eyes, but can’t match the lustrous beauty of them. That was when I realized that I loved her. Well, that was really silly. Funny even.

She was very pale, her skin almost milk white. Her hair light yellow to the scalp, a true natural blond. Her face was child-like, and with her small size, you might think she was pre-pubescent but for her large breasts. Her mouth was exquisite, the perfect curl of her lips, her straight white teeth when she smiled. She was too beautiful, too sexy, too desirable.

I almost laughed, because there was absolutely no way a gorgeous 17 year old girl like her could love an old guy like me, not in a romantic way at least.

It didn’t matter; we met almost every day, the dogs played, we walked and we talked. Well, mostly she talked. Sheena talked in a sort of continuous monologue, a non-stop prattle that most people found extremely annoying. I liked it; I enjoyed listening to her happy young voice. I had her that way, and it was really very nice. I didn’t need more. I didn’t expect more.

I got more though. Yeah, I got everything.

Anyway, her smile, genuine happiness as she saw me. Familiarity, safety. Because even though I’m old, I’m also big, strong, and a karate black belt. She was safe with me. She could relax, prattle, bounce, laugh, and enjoy the beautiful day and our happy dogs without fear when Henry and I were with her. Even I felt that way, a girl like her pretty much needed a bodyguard all the time. It made me nervous to think of her out by herself.

Every day, almost. For months. It was sweet, innocent. At first I mean. Slowly, her story came out. Some I read on the internet, because she’d been an actress as a child, a small part in a big series. Her mother had passed and she’d lived with her dad. The series came to an end when she was 13, and she hadn’t found work since. Her stepdad invested her money, badly, and lost it all in the last economic crash. He’d tried to cover his losses with fraud, and ended up in jail for 10 years.

So Sheena, at 16, was made homeless. She moved in with her lover. He was a man she knew who lived nearby, the step dad of the kid who had played her older brother in the series and married to the writer.

He’d seduced her when she was 16, telling her he was separated from his wife, even though they still shared a house. When the girl turned up with a suitcase, the wife told a different story, the end result of which was a messy divorce, and then Sheena and the guy moving into a small apartment near where I lived, which is why I met her.

“So how old is this guy?” I asked.

“Really old, like, 35.” She told me. “I like him ok, it’s all pretty weird I guess. I just needed a place for a few nights, I was going to go live with my aunt in Philly, and now we’re like, living together because I broke up his marriage.”

“It sounds like he did that himself.” I said. “He told you lies and seduced you.”

“That’s true.” She conceded. “Anyway, I made my choice. I wanted to stay here near the studios so I have a shot at a role when I’m 18. I still get some residuals, not enough to live on in California, not by myself.”

It’s cheaper for studios to hire young looking adults to play teenagers. Lower costs and less red tape than having minors on contract. As a result, there is practically no work for actors aged between 15 and 18.

“And what does he want?” I asked.

“What all men want.” She laughed. I couldn’t dispute her.

Me; well, I was once an actor too. I landed a few small roles when I was young. I never made it though, and then I was offered a role in a Japanese TV series. I lived in Japan for 30 years, had some good and bad experiences there.

The Japanese are openly and unapologetically racist. Some people over-compensate, so as a rare black man living there, I had a niche. And a lot of sex. No long term relationships, maybe that’s on me, I can’t say.

Anyway, one night after some drinks, I went to a hotel room with a married couple to have sex with the wife; the husband was supposed to just watch. She got into it; she was a beauty too. She fondled my stiff cock as we kissed, and then he went a little nuts and attacked her, and for a brief moment, I lost my temper. I stopped my foot just before it struck his face; so I merely knocked out a couple of teeth.

He accused me of rape and assault. I didn’t take it seriously; the judge did though, and I got 5 years, even though the rape charge was dropped. Japanese jail is severe; prisoners are not allowed to talk. 5 years of silence. Well, not even that, because there was all sorts of noise. Just no talking.

I was released and deported at age 63. I had a small pension, and moved back to the USA. I was a stranger in my own country; I had nothing, no friends, no family. I owned an apartment, I evicted the tenants and moved in. And adopted a dog.

Sheena talked incessantly; she practically never stopped from the moment we met until we parted each day. What other people found irritating was pure pleasure to me. Her sweet young voice poured into the void that was my soul, slowly filling my dark emptiness with her consciousness. She was aware that she talked too much, that it drove people away. It was one of the things she talked about.

So we were sort of in the same place; not really poor, yet without any wealth either. A girl who needed to talk, and a man who needed to be talked to. And she needed a friend, because she had a stalker. More about that later.

She had a nice BMW car her dad had given her for her 16th birthday when they still had money. We went to the beach, the dogs ran in the sand. We went walking in the mountains, and she stumbled, and I took her hand.

Her small beautiful little white hand; and she looked into my eyes with her jewel eyes, and looked slightly shocked, and then smiled, and a line was crossed. Not sexual, not yet. I still didn’t even imagine it could go there. It wasn’t really important to be honest. I just wanted to be with her, to spend time, to look at her, listen to her sweet musical voice, bask in the glorious light of her gorgeous young smile. She saw me, she gave me attention, made me feel human again.