Chapter 33: After Summer Comes, Winter Comes

November 3, 1996, Chicago, Illinois

Summer played beautifully, but I could tell she wasn’t in the same league as Fawn. I also realized I didn’t have the same infatuation with Summer as I’d had with Fawn, though that didn’t change my assessment of Summer’s violin skills. She might not be Juilliard material, but there was no disputing she was very good.

I was both surprised and impressed with her boldness - inviting me to her house when she was alone. Of course, part of that might be that she’d have trouble explaining why she invited me to the house, given the ancient lecherous dad/nubile babysitter trope. As one classic piece moved to the next, I wondered how her desire for me had developed. If Birgit had told me the truth, and I strongly suspected she had, and Kara had told me the complete truth, of which I was less sure, then I had to wonder how Summer developed her crush.

The thought about Kara jarred me a bit, because if I didn’t believe what she’d said, then we’d regressed in our relationship, which was a frightening prospect. I hoped it wasn’t true, but even that stray thought portended trouble ahead, as did Kara’s current struggle with her sex drive, and the fantasies which were dancing around in her head. We’d need to talk about it, in depth, very soon.

After four songs, Summer lowered her violin and bow and looked at me expectantly.

“Wonderful!” I exclaimed. “I recognized Beethoven and Vivaldi, what were the other two?”

“Audition pieces I learned, one by Seitz and one by Massenet. Do you like classical music?”

“Very much. What are the names of the four pieces? I recognized two, as I said, but don’t know their names.”

“Minuet in G by Beethoven; the third movement of Concerto No. 2 by Seitz; the first movement of Concerto in A Minor by Vivaldi; and Méditation, from the opera Thaïs, by Massenet.”

“Would you like to play something else?”

“Sure. I have a new piece I’ve learned. It’s long, if that’s OK.”

I nodded, “Sure.”

“This is The Lark Ascending by Ralph Vaughan Williams,” she said, taking up her violin and bow.

The piece WAS long, at just about sixteen minutes, but it was fantastic and varied, and I only detected a few mistakes which were obvious despite not ever having heard the piece. I applauded when she finished and she beamed.

“One more?” she asked with a sly smile. “Shorter, but fun.”

I nodded and she started playing. By the tenth note I was laughing. She was playing The Devil Went Down to Georgia by The Charlie Daniels Band, a piece written for the fiddle. Of course, I realized that the ‘fiddle’ was a violin, and that ‘fiddling’ referred to style; as I understood it, ‘fiddles’ were usually less-expensive, less expertly-constructed than good violins. I was no expert, but given where Summer lived, the obvious wealth of her parents, and her skill, I suspected her violin was a very good one.

“I suspect you don’t play that for your violin teacher,” I chuckled.

“No way! That’s one I learned at school. My private violin teacher would lose her mind if she heard me play like that!” her voice changed to a mocking imitation of an older woman, “‘Now Summer, your violin is a masterpiece, and must only be used to play masterpieces. You must treat it with the utmost respect.‘“

I noticed she was far less nervous, which wasn’t really surprising. When she was playing, she was focused on her music, and everything else took a back seat. In my mind, it was similar to my ‘zone’ when I was programming, something I hadn’t experienced in a LONG time because I wasn’t getting nearly the opportunity to program that I hoped I would in just over a year’s time.

“Well, I liked it and found it both fun and amusing, because it was SO different. Counterpoint, if you will.”

“That’s what our concert band director said. You play some beautiful flowing pieces that have people going ‘wow’, then totally turn everything on its head with something like that.”

“I think you’re very good.”

“I need a drink. Would you like something?”

“Just ice water, please.”

“We have Coke and stuff.”

I shook my head, “I avoid those.”

“Because of karate?”

Now THAT was an interesting comment. I didn’t recall telling her about karate, but then again, Birgit probably had mentioned it at some point, or perhaps my wives when Summer had interviewed for the babysitter position.

“I certainly can do without any excess sugar,” I replied, deciding she didn’t need to know my medical condition.

Summer placed her violin and bow in the stand, got up, and beckoned me towards the kitchen.

“You exercise a lot, right?”

“I run every weekday morning.”

“I’ve seen you run in the park. And I’ve seen you practice karate, too.”

“Oh?”

“The day your school had the ‘Open House’ Mom and I came to watch, and I’ve watched you sometimes on Saturday mornings.”

And I’d NEVER noticed. I thought back, but couldn’t remember a time when I’d seen her. That did answer the question, at least partly, of how her infatuation might have developed.

“You must have been careful because I don’t remember seeing you.”

She laughed nervously and blushed slightly, “I, uhm, didn’t want you to.”

She put ice into a glass from the dispenser on the fridge, then used a separate dispenser to fill the glass with water. She handed it to me and her fingers brushed my hand, the first physical contact we’d had. Summer’s breath hitched, and she turned quickly to the fridge to get a can of Coke. She opened it, poured it into a tumbler, and turned to face me.

If there was EVER a moment I rued the switch away from glass soda bottles, it was then. Watching her wrap her sweet lips around the bottle and drink would have been incredibly erotic, even if she had no idea what it might symbolize. The other regret I had was that the beautiful formal gown she was wearing hid the contours of her body. That wasn’t a surprise, as ‘Steve-type’ girls were never going to fill out the bust of a formal gown.

“So, you were spying on me?” I asked lightly.

“No!” she replied quickly, words tumbling from her mouth, “it, uhm, wasn’t like that! Honest! I just wanted to see you! I would have died of embarrassment if you saw me!”

“Relax,” I soothed. “I wasn’t upset. I was just surprised.”

“You’re almost never home, and so I never get to see you,” she said softly.

“You can see me now,” I replied.

She choked a bit on the Coke she was drinking, and a bit of Coke dribbled down her chin. I grabbed a napkin from a holder on the table next to me and dabbed it for her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I smiled, wadded up the napkin, and correctly guessed that the trash can was under the sink, a guess that would be right more often than not in just about any kitchen in America. We both finished our drinks and Summer rinsed the glasses and put them in the sink.

“Do you want to stay?” she asked softly. “I could play more, or...”

I waited, wondering if she’d complete the thought, but also wondering what I would do if she did. There was a giant, insurmountable problem of which she probably wasn’t aware, and her personality, behavior, and bashfulness gave me serious pause about whether she’d have even considered an STD test. There hadn’t been a time to raise the issue, and now I might be in a tough bind. Of course, there was also Kara’s usual comment that such things always seemed to work out in my favor. It was just in THIS one, I couldn’t see it.

Summer blushed deeply, “ ... I could show you my room.”

I couldn’t spoil the moment, especially the first invitation, with testing. But at some point, and before we even got close, I’d need to say something.

I smiled, “I’d really like that.”

Summer’s face lit up, and she took my hand, and led me to the back stairs. The front room had revealed a wide, sweeping staircase up, but this was narrow, and probably intended for the servants, or for the children to come down for breakfast. The wooden stairs creaked a bit as we ascended in dim light from a window about halfway up.

When we reached the second floor, she turned into the first doorway on the right, and I entered a very elegant bedroom, complete with a four-poster canopy bed. I wondered what her parents did, because this was definitely the room of a very well-off young woman, in contrast to Emmy’s simple apartment. I liked my creature comforts as much as the next guy, and maybe more, but there was something ‘homey’ about Emmy’s apartment, while Summer’s room was more like a museum showpiece with expensive art, an expensive Persian rug, and fine furniture.

“It’s very nice.”

“I think it’s a bit too stuffy,” she said. “I like your daughters’ room.”

I nodded, “If you can overcome the ‘pink’!”

Summer laughed softly, “I prefer purple, but other than the canopy and the bedspread and sheets, there isn’t much purple.”

The canopy and bedspread were lavender, but the pillows, and the bit of sheet I could see were a deeper purple, though with a bit of a reddish hue.

“Purple was always my favorite color growing up. But I tend to have more blue now than anything.”

“Should I put on some music?” Summer asked, sounding slightly nervous once again.

“Sure.”

She went over to a very nice stereo system, pressed a button to open the drawer of a five-disc CD player, and quickly put in five disks. Another press of a button, an adjustment of some dials, and the sound of soft strings filled the room.

“You can sit, if you want,” she said.

I sat down on the loveseat and Summer walked over and sat down next to me, close, but not quite touching. We sat quietly, listening to Vivaldi, and I waited to see what might happen. Summer fidgeted a bit, and I could see her stealing glances at me from the corner of my eye. It seemed as if she was working up to something and I would let her, though I did have to find a point to raise the issue which might derail everything, at least for today.

The first piece ended, and the second began before she said anything.

“Don’t you want to kiss me?” she asked.

Oh, I did, and a whole lot more, but that meant dealing with the potential torpedo which would sink our ship.

“I do,” I replied. “But it has to be safe.”

“My parents won’t be home before the game is over,” she replied in a quiet voice.

That WAS an important consideration, but not the main one.

“That’s good. But I meant something else. You know about diseases, right?”

“You mean the ones you can get from...” her voice dropped to where it was barely audible, “sex?”

“Yes.”

“I, uhm, had those tests. Doctor Jessica said I had to if I wanted to babysit the kids.”

I nearly lost it and laughed out loud, but I managed to hold it in. I could see Jess saying that, and having both an overt AND a secret agenda, especially when hiring a pretty blonde ‘Steve type’.

“So she made you?”

“Yes. A physical, a TB test, a test for hepatitis, a test for HIV, and for the other stuff because it was included.”

Jess was good, very good. She’d done something that made perfect sense, and tossed in the HIV test, which would also bring along with it the other STD tests. Intended or not, if things played out the way they appeared to be going, Jess was going to get a VERY special reward!

“I assume you shared the results with Jessica?”

“Yes, of course. Everything was clean. I mean, I never...”

“There are other ways to get some of those.”

“That’s what the doctor who did the tests told me, but said it was unusual.”

“True. And yes, I really do want to kiss you.”

Summer smiled and nodded, and I moved so that our lips just barely touched in the softest of kisses. Not wanting to be aggressive or push things, I drew back and saw starry eyes, almost as if she was in a trance. I waited a few seconds then repeated the soft brush of our lips, before sitting back. Summer sighed and I felt her lean slightly towards me, and her shoulder brushed mine.

I moved to give her a soft kiss, but the moment our lips touched, she threw her arms around my neck and pressed her lips firmly to mine, kissing me hungrily. Her tongue probed and I parted my lips and we began French kissing - gently at first, but then fiercely, our tongues battling for supremacy. Summer, who had been tentative, was now the aggressor, seemingly attempting to devour me.

She was breathing heavily when she broke the kiss, and now I saw only raging desire in her eye.

“Do you want me?” she asked, her voice full of longing and desire.

“Yes,” I replied, looking deep into her eyes.

She got up from the loveseat and shut the door, turning the key to lock it. She moved to both windows, pulling shades down most of the way, darkening the room, though there was still more than enough light to see. She turned and stood, obviously waiting for me to get up. I did and moved across the room to stand in front of her.

“Turn around,” I requested, keeping my voice soft.

Summer turned and I grasped the black metal zipper and slowly drew it down, revealing the smooth, bare skin of her back. I pushed the dress from her shoulders and allowed it to fall away until it bunched around her ankles and calves. Naked, except for lavender panties and short, black leggings, Summer stepped out of the dress and turned to face me, her hard pink nipples standing erect from her small, round breasts. She was only about an inch shorter than I was, and it seemed as if most of her height was her gorgeous legs.

I smiled and moved my fingers to the buttons of my black polo and Summer watched intently as I unbuttoned the three buttons, then pulled the shirt over my head. Thinking it was best to keep our states of undress roughly equal, I unbuckled my belt, then unbuttoned and unzipped my black slacks, pushing down so they fell to my feet. I stepped out of them, and stood before Summer in black boxer-briefs and black socks.

I held out my arms, and she melted into them, pressing her lithe body against mine. Our lips touched and then our tongues. Summer’s soft hands caressed my back as I held her firmly against me, one hand on her upper back, the other on her extremely firm buttock. Summer pressed her mons forward, seeking the pleasure that would come with the pressure. I shifted slightly so that my erection provided the point of contact and she moaned softly into my mouth.

As we kissed, I moved my hand upwards, then slipped it inside Summer’s panties, feeling her smooth flesh. I lowered my other hand and slipped it into her panties as well, and pulled her groin tightly against mine. Summer wiggled her hips, rubbing herself along my shaft through two thin layers of cotton. Her moan turned to a groan and I felt her tense, then exhale strongly into my mouth.

I broke the kiss, knelt down, and slid the lavender panties down to her ankles, revealing thin, wispy blonde pubic hair and plump, glistening labia. Summer put her hand on my shoulder and stepped out of her panties, and then I removed her leggings one at a time. I stood, looked into her eyes, and saw a mix of lust and trepidation I’d seen many times before. With a slightly evil thought, I carefully removed my socks, then stood again.

Summer made a face at me, and with a grin I quickly dropped my boxer-briefs and stepped out of them. She gasped and stared at my newly freed erection, which, while the object of her desire, was now before her, ready to complete the act for which she’d brought me to her house, and then to her room. I slowly put my arms out and gently wrapped them around Summer, who sucked in her breath at first contact, but then mashed herself against me as we began another fierce French kiss.

We kissed, her breasts pressed against my chest and my shaft pressed against her soft pubic hair, while our hands roamed over each other’s backs. We broke the kiss to take a breath, then engaged in another deep French kiss, full of longing and promise. I broke it, lowered my arms and stepped over to the bed. I drew down the bedspread and top sheet, then turned and took Summer’s hand.

“I had a vasectomy,” I said softly. “I can’t get you pregnant.”

She nodded, bit her lower lip, and allowed me to lead her to the bed. She lay back, her gorgeous, golden hair splayed over the pillows, and her body stretched out, beckoning. I knew what she was waiting for and decided that everything else could wait. I carefully got into bed then moved on top of Summer. She spread her legs for me and I nestled my glans against her soaked labia. I reached down and grasped my shaft, then slid the tip along her labia to coat it with her slick juices.

“Just wrap your legs around my thighs,” I said, then kissed her softly.

Summer did as I asked, opening herself fully to me. I pressed gently forward and had no trouble slipping through her slick, plump labia.

“Oh!” she gasped, and her eyes opened wide.

I didn’t feel a barrier, so I kissed her again, then looked into her eyes and slowly pushed my hips forward.

“Ungh!” she groaned as I slid further into her tight, slick tunnel.

I pulled back, made a gentle thrust, then, that repeated twice, I ended up fully embedded in her. We began kissing deeply and Summer began wiggling and raising her hips. With that encouragement, I began slowly and gently stroking in and out of her. She tightened her legs around my butt and wiggled and humped, encouraging me to go harder and faster.

“Oh!” she gasped, breaking the kiss. “Ungh! Oh! Ungh!”

She squeezed me tightly with her arms and legs, held her breath, and a few seconds later, her first orgasm crashed over her. She breathed out explosively then groaned deeply as her muscles spasmed around my shaft as I moved rhythmically inside her. She was moving enthusiastically now, so I pushed up on my hands and thrust harder and deeper, doing my best to prolong her orgasm. I was rewarded with another loud groan and even stronger spasms as her orgasm intensified.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Oh! Oh! What are you doing to me?!”

“Making you feel really good,” I replied.

Her orgasm finally subsided, but it was simply one waypoint on the way to our final destination. We hit another waypoint a few minutes later, then a third one a few minutes after that. At that point, Summer seemed to lose control and began wildly humping and wiggling. I increased the speed and strength of my thrusts as we moved inexorably towards the crescendo which arrived five minutes later with a thunderclap, with Summer and I both groaning loudly as we achieved a tremendous mutual orgasm.