Hath Eyes
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2018 by Uther Pendragon

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Hath Eyes. Cheryl had had a crush on Jake since he'd been her big sister's boyfriend. Now, that she was trying to afford law school, he saw the worst of her. Contemporary story in 3 chapters, Tues, Fri., Tues.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   First  

But, howsoever love be blind,
the world at large hath eyes.

A Code of Morals
Joseph Rudyard Kipling


“Now, remember,” Cheryl Benson told Lori. “If Mom calls, say I’m in the bathroom. Call me immediately. I’ll call her right back.”

“I just hope you’re protected.”

Cheryl took the cell from her ear and gave it a look of disbelief. Well, the phone wouldn’t convey looks. She’d try to express reality in words. “It’s not like that,” she said when it was back in place.

“Sure, Cheryl. You’re going to spend all night with this guy, Dale, and nothing’s going to happen. I’ve stopped believing in the Easter Bunny, too.”

“And you’ve never made out with a guy?”

“I never said that.”

“It’s just that Dale has his own place, and cars are so cramped, and Mom and Dad would never let us have privacy here. I’m a college graduate, for God’s sake.”

“Look,” Lori said, “I’ll back you because I’m your friend. Still, Dale’s a guy and guys don’t have an off button.”

Cheryl remembered this when she got to Dale’s place. “Look. We’re only going to go so far,” she said.

“Of course, Doll. Don’t you trust me?” And, really, she did. She felt a little guilty towards Dale. He was the first guy who had asked her out after she got back from college. He was a nice guy, but she suspected that he felt much closer to love for her than she felt for him. She had been mourning her break-up with Ted, and her ardent welcome for Dale’s advances was more a response to the sign that she was over Ted than to Dale himself. Now, if Ted had had his own apartment, then she might not have wanted to stop.

Then, too, at 5’ 11”, she didn’t have all that great a choice of men. Lots of short guys were attracted to her, but she wasn’t attracted to them. Dale was 6’ 1”, and the two inches made her feel that the couple they made was respectable. She liked him; she liked being with him. She just didn’t think that the liking was going to turn into love.

They shopped at a grocery store near his place. She selected the stuff, and he paid for it. At his apartment, she cooked him a meal. It wasn’t fancy: chicken breasts, scalloped potatoes, broccoli, and a tossed salad. Dale set the table and cleaned up.

Then he put on some soft music in the living room. The only light there was from the kitchen. He brought them each a glass of rum and Coke, and they sat next to each other on the sofa to kiss.

“Drink up,” he said some time later. He drained his glass, and she did, too, though the drink seemed awfully heavy on the rum.

“Now,” she said later. She pulled his hands away from her belt, “you have to stop.”

“But you are so pretty. I want to see all of you.” He’d done more than see her breasts; he’d been stroking them and kissing them all night. She didn’t believe that he would stop at looking if she bared more.

“That is the limit. You said that you would respect limits.”

“I’m feeling thirsty,” he said. “Want another rum and Coke?”

“I’ve reached my limit.” Indeed, she was feeling a bit tipsy. One drink didn’t usually do that to her. He must have mixed those with a heavy hand. “Go right ahead.”

“Well, I don’t want to drink alone. Why don’t we both cut out the booze? I have some tomato juice in the ‘fridge. Want some?”

“I’ll get it.”

“Nah! You cooked, and we said that was all you’d do.” He was on his feet, and she took the break to visit his bathroom.

When he brought the tomato juice in, he brought new, larger glasses with ice cubes in them. The juice tasted different, perhaps because of the ice. The more she drank, the thirstier she got. Anyway, she wanted to finish the glass before too much ice melted. His kisses now were all for her breasts and none for her mouth. She could drink any time she wanted. There wasn’t even much to do with her hands except stroke his hair.

Before she was done with the glass, though, she began to feel queasy in her stomach. She was dizzy, too. It couldn’t be the single glass of rum and Coke. Her reactions to the dizziness and queasiness took all her attention away from Dale’s hands and lips on her breasts. Could she break off now? Well, that would be awfully mean to Dale, and she couldn’t go home, anyway. She was going to finish the night on the couch. Having him take her home because she felt sick would be one thing. Banishing him to his bedroom so she could go to sleep early on his couch would be quite another.

While she was thinking this, and having a hard time getting through those thoughts, she felt his hand on her belt buckle again.

“No, Dale.” She pushed his hand away, and he resisted. When his hand slipped out of her grip, it shoved into her stomach. It wasn’t a hard punch, but it tipped the balance in her stomach. “Oh!” she said. Then all the tomato juice came back up.


Jake Warren glanced at the time as he got up from his terminal. It was 10:14. Even at the height of summer, the windows were dark as he walked toward the break room. He still had another hour of writing code, maybe even two, in him. He needed a break before he went back to the program, though. When he wandered into the break room, Larry the team supervisor and Greg -- younger than Jake, but another guy just starting his second year -- were there drinking coffee. One of the pizza boxes was shoved into the trash. There were three pieces of pepperoni left, but only one piece of the vegetarian special.

“Are you going to want that?” He asked Greg. He preferred the taste, but Greg was an actual vegetarian.

“No way! My stomach is getting cramps already. I spent the last twenty minutes staring at the monitor without typing a thing.” Jake had been in that situation.

“Go home while you’re still safe behind the wheel. You’re not going to get anything productive done tonight.”

“I just might. What do you think, Larry?”

“Going home is right.” Larry watched Greg head out the door, and Jake started gnawing on his pizza. “You, however,” Larry said to Jake, “were wrong.”

“Huh?”

“Look I’m his supervisor -- yours, too. If he decides to go home after hours, that’s his business. He should, maybe, tell me when I’m available. If he asked your opinion, I wouldn’t mind your giving it. It sounded, though, a good deal like you were taking my place.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you down.” Jake knew that Larry was right. He wasn’t a platoon sergeant any more, and he should quit acting like one. His job was taking care of programs, not men -- not even that. Larry’s job was taking care of the program they were writing, and Jake’s job was taking care of one single module of that program. He just missed taking care of people after five years away.

“No sweat. It’s not like you contradicted something I said. You write good code. The hardest thing I ever learned was moving up from writing code to supervising people. In a couple more years, you’ll make that transition. I’ll bet you make it more easily than I did.”

Driving home later, though, he thought about it. He’d been a platoon sergeant, taking care of the men while the lieutenant gave the orders. He’d gone from physical therapy straight to school. After a while, the students worked together on projects, and his fellows had often let him mother-hen them. Now, it wasn’t on his job description.

Larry had been great about it, and Jake had been careful to work until he didn’t trust his results. Then he drove home.

He felt lucky that he could park only two blocks away from his parents’ building at this time of night. The neighborhood definitely needed more parking. He was striding along and getting close to home when a car stopped ahead of him. Someone got out of the passenger side. He saw the car drive off and the passenger weave up the walk towards his parents’ building. The guy seemed to have difficulty getting the key in the lock.

He’d grown up being the landlord’s son. He was just another of his parents’ tenants, now, but the years of military service and college hadn’t damped his feeling of being responsible for the building. Was this a tenant who’d had too much too drink, or was it a drunk trying to get in the wrong building? It was, he saw now, a woman.

Then he knew who it must be, Eve’s younger sister. Cheryl had been a nice kid, and she’d grown up. She had turned into a looker, too. She didn’t appear to be behaving well, though.

“Cheryl?” he asked.

“Oh, Jake. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sick.”

“You’re drunk as a skunk.” That wasn’t her only resemblance to a skunk. She smelled like she’d thrown up.

“I can’t let Mom and Dad see me like this,” she said. He sympathized. His parents had wanted him to move back after college the year before. He’d wanted a little privacy -- not that he’d got much use for privacy recently with the hours he was working. Still, he could bring girls back to his own apartment. They had compromised on his renting one of the small apartments that they’d cut out of the third-floor ones.

“Come on. I’ll get you cleaned up.” He unlocked the door expecting to carry her up. He rethought making that offer. Back when he’d been going with Eve, he’d carried her little sister up to her apartment several times. Still, two and a half flights was more effort than a half flight, and she was a woman now instead of a junior-high girl -- a big, tall woman, too. The real problem was that his left leg hadn’t -- even five years out of the hospital -- regained all its strength.

It seemed that Cheryl, however, was able to navigate the stairs with a little help. He had one hand on her upper arm and pulled her straight every time she stumbled. When she did, she shushed him -- or maybe herself. The noise wasn’t that great, and nobody came out of an apartment to see what was happening.

Upstairs, he got her into the bathroom and out of the blouse, which had only one button buttoned, and the rest of her clothes. The belt, which had a trick buckle, gave him some problems. Somehow, she had been sick inside her bra. He got her into the tub with the shower on her. Then he rinsed her clothes in the toilet before storing them in the washbasin. When he flushed, she yelped. He reached around the shower curtain to move her around under the water. Soap was too much to ask. When she was as clean as she was going to get, he turned off the hot water.

“Hey!” She was a little more awake. He turned off the cold water, pushed back the shower curtain, and started drying her where she stood. Cleaned up, Cheryl was a remarkably attractive woman. He’d sort of known that. He’d seen her once in a while in the past year, and not always bundled into a coat in winter. Still, she looked better in her skin with her breasts unbound and only the gold hair shielding her femininity. She looked, in fact, delectable. Well, he wasn’t going to get this woman into his bed this night. Really, he was, but not in an enjoyable way.

“Do you think you could step out of the tub?” he asked. She took the hand he held out, and he helped her keep her balance. When she was standing there, and quite close to him, he put the seat down on the toilet. “Sit there. I’m going out, and you should use it.” That wasn’t the sort of decision you made for another adult, but he didn’t trust her judgment right then.

He closed the door and went into the bedroom. He straightened his bed a bit, grabbed an extra sheet and a blanket. The apartment held three rooms, bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. If Cheryl were going to sleep in the bedroom, he’d sleep in the kitchen. When he heard the toilet flush, he went in and led her to the bedroom. He let her down in the bed, and regretfully covered that beauty.

He emptied her pockets and draped her clothes over the shower curtain. He opened the bathroom window and closed the door. Then he folded the blanket on the kitchen floor for a pad and tossed the sheet on it. He undressed, turned off the light, and covered himself. He took a bit of time getting to sleep, reflecting how soft he’d got in civilian life.

Eve’s kid sister sure had grown up. When the Bensons had moved into the building, he’d been a sophomore in high school, which would have made Eve a sophomore, too. Cheryl had been a scrawny kid. Even then, she’d been nice. Even though Eve had referred to her as “the brat,” there had been less ill feeling between them than between some sisters. Then, in the summer after his junior year, he and Eve had become a couple. Cheryl seemed to be in favor of that, so long as he treated her decently when they were all together. Once, Cheryl had caught them kissing up against the wall near the back door. “Mom’s coming,” she had said. Eve had enough time to get her blouse buttoned and tucked into her jeans before Mrs. Benson came out.

Eve had found another guy before the end of senior year, but the break-up left them friends. When he went off to basic, Eve had kissed him good bye. Even Cheryl had. He hadn’t been home much after that, between the army and college. The second hospitalization had delayed starting college until the second semester, which had kept him making up courses for two summers. Well, enough memories. He lay flat and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

When the morning light woke him, he lay perfectly still until he remembered how he’d got into this predicament. He was running late, but nobody would bitch about his getting in late considering when he’d left the night before. He was sleeping naked, as always. It might be an embarrassment if Cheryl woke up. Well, she was sleeping naked, too, and would be more embarrassed about that. He got up and went into the john. With the open window, it didn’t smell too bad in there. He hung the clothes back on the shower-curtain rod after he was finished showering.

He put his trousers and yesterday’s shirt on to go into the bedroom for his clothes, though. He needn’t have bothered. Cheryl was dead asleep. She’d curled up on her side. That had pulled the sheet partly off her, leaving her tush exposed. It was a very nice tush, too. He got his shirt and underwear without waking her. Then he selected another -- heavier -- shirt and a pair of shorts to leave for her to wear home. He didn’t think she would want to put her jeans or blouse on before putting them through the wash.

Was he being generous and looking so often at the bed just to check that he wasn’t waking his guest, or was he just enjoying the sight of that tush? Her hair wasn’t bad, either, and that was almost the only other thing he could see. That thought reminded him of the other hair he had seen the night before, which convinced him that he was being a voyeur. He went back to the kitchen to dress and to make himself coffee and breakfast.

Between stripping and dressing, he did his pushups. He skimped exercise when work was hectic, but he always got his pushups in. After nearly five years, his left side was still weaker than his right.

He left a note telling her about the clothes he had left on a kitchen chair, the OJ in the refrigerator, and about nuking the coffee. He left that under the aspirin bottle on the kitchen table. He’d nursed hangovers, and he’d seen others with them. He had a little sympathy.

He drove to work thinking about the dreamboat he’d left in his bed. He was definitely getting old if he was driving away from that girl with that tush. Well, work called. Besides, he’d had hangovers. She would be neither interested in him nor good company when she woke up. By the time he got to work, he was ready to concentrate on the program they were writing this week.


Cheryl woke up with a serious headache. She was also naked in a strange bed. She needed to go badly and got to the bathroom just in time. She sat on the commode facing her blouse and jeans on the shower rod. Slowly, she remembered some of the details from the night before.

She was in Jake’s apartment! He’d seen her plastered. He must have been the one to undress her. She could remember, now that she was facing the tub, his putting her in the shower. And she could still smell her vomit from the clothes.

This was absolutely horrible. What had she been thinking the night before? Sure, Mom would kill her. She’d lied to Mom, gone out intending to spend the night with a guy. Mom would never believe that she hadn’t intended to have sex with him. She’d gotten drunk, and come home pie-eyed. Mom would kill her. Still, Mom would find out, anyhow. And Mom would forgive her. That’s what family did; they forgave but never forgot.

Jake, on the other hand, had seen her at her worst. She had had a crush on him for most of her life. She had been the kid sister of his girlfriend, and a quite little kid, too. She might have been able to overcome that; he had to know that little kids grew up. Now, he’d seen her as an adult, but not as a sexy adult, not even as a serious adult. He’d seen her as a drunken woman covered by her own vomit. He’d never speak to her again.

Staggering out of the bathroom, she saw the aspirin bottle. It was on a sheet of paper. She took two aspirin. Jake had been smart enough to leave a glass on the table, too. She didn’t feel up to looking through his cabinets. Carrying the glass to the sink to fill it had been a major effort. The note was quite explicit. First it mentioned the shorts and shirt he’d left on the kitchen chair.

While the aspirin were taking effect, she dressed. The shorts were big on her, but he’d taken her belt out of her jeans, and that cinched them to her waist. The shirt was tight across her breasts, but not too tight. The tails fell low across the shorts, and she had to roll up the sleeves. That just reminded her how big a guy Jake was.

As directed, she poured herself a cup of coffee and nuked it in the microwave. She got the orange juice out of the ‘fridge and poured herself a glass. He’d emphasized that she was dehydrated. There was no pretending that she hadn’t tied one on; he was full of directions about dealing with it. He offered her toast, recommending that she eat it without butter. He even told her to help herself to the eggs, but she couldn’t face eggs this morning. The juice and toast were all her stomach could take. After drinking the coffee, she nuked another cup.

He’d left his number, and asked that she call. She sat there a long time staring at the paper before she went in search of her cell. He’d left it on the tank of the commode. She took it back to the kitchen to make the call.

“Just a second,” he said when he took the call. There was a pause. “Okay. I can talk at work, but the other guys would rather I go out into the hall.”

“This is Cheryl. Look, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Hey, I’ve tied one on, too. Who left you off, anyway? Driving off when you’re in that state wasn’t kosher. Was he as bad off as you?”

“It was Dale. I’d just thrown up on his couch. When I said I wanted to go home, he didn’t object. I only had one rum and Coke. I get drunk easily, but not usually that easily. I must have been sick already.”

“You don’t sound sick. You sound remarkably good for a hangover. Did you have anything else to drink?”

“No ... Well, to drink, but not alcohol. He gave me a huge glass of tomato juice.”

“A Bloody Mary?”

“No. Just tomato juice ... I think it was just tomato juice.” On the other hand, she had gotten drunker as she drank it. “I’m not sure.”

“Maybe not vodka. Maybe Everclear.”

“What’s that?”

“Almost pure grain alcohol. For when you want to get drunk without the interference of all the other liquids. That’s fine. Giving it to an unsuspecting girl isn’t fine. Look, do you want to introduce me to that guy as your honorary brother? He needs to understand some things.”

“Couldn’t you get in trouble? You’re not in high school any more. Fist fights are police matters now.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning to use my fists, but you’re right. Anyway, if you’re going to go out with him again, you don’t want me to rearrange his features.” She wondered what rearranging Dale’s features involved it Jake wasn’t planning to use his fists. He sounded dangerous, not angry, but his tone was low.

“Well, I don’t want either. I’m not going out with him again. If I never see him it will be too soon. Still, I don’t want you fighting my battles. You’ve done more than enough for me.”

“Hardly anything. I was just being a good neighbor.”

“‘Hardly anything?’ I’m sitting in your kitchen wearing your clothes after having eaten your food and swallowed your aspirin. For that matter, I slept in your bed last night. Where did you sleep?”

“On the floor. Don’t worry. I’ve slept in worse places and been damned grateful that I got sleep. You were quite welcome to the bed, though you make it sound much better than it was.”

“Much better?”

“You slept in my bed last night -- really this morning. That sounds wonderful, but, unfortunately, the reality was that you slept there alone.”

She wasn’t going to go into that, not with his shirt pushing against her nipples -- which was another sentence which sounded much sexier than the real situation. “You spent the night beside the bed. I didn’t hear a thing.”

“I spent the night in the kitchen. But you wouldn’t have heard a thing anyway. I came in the bedroom to get some clothes in the morning, and you were dead to the world.”

“In the kitchen? I don’t know how to repay you.”

“It was under a roof, and there were no chances of attack. Afterwards, I had a warm shower, coffee, and breakfast. That was sleeping in luxury, and I can give you the names of guys in Afghanistan right now who’ll tell you so.”

“I didn’t know you were in Afghanistan.”

“I wasn’t -- only in Iraq. But some guys I served with were permanent, and they’re in Afghanistan as we speak.”

“Well, I’m keeping you from your work. One more imposition.”

“I put in nearly two full days on Monday. The hours we work, nobody nags about taking a break. What is your work schedule? You said you were still in my kitchen.”

“I’m still looking. I was going to search the Internet today. I’m just as glad I don’t have an interview the shape I’m in.”

“What was your major?”

“Pre-law. I’m trying to get a paralegal job and pay down some student loans before incurring more.”


Jake said, “Good idea.”

“Thanks, and good bye.” So he went back to work.

She wanted to repay him, did she? Well, she was now minus a boyfriend, and she could repay him by going out with him. He couldn’t ask her, however, before this job was ready to ship. She might be willing to go out with him, but she wouldn’t be willing to go out with him after midnight. Where would they go? Well, okay, he could think of a nice, warm, comfortable place. She, however, wouldn’t be willing to get into his bed again, not sober and with him as company. Well, he had code to write.


Cheryl rinsed her dishes and put them in the dishwasher. She left him another thank you on his note. She went downstairs and changed. She washed her clothes in the laundry room. She decided against putting anything else in that wash. She was afraid of contamination, but -- actually -- the stuff just smelled of the detergent when she put them in the dryer. Upstairs, she made herself lunch and hid the clothes Jake had lent her.

After fixing herself lunch and a full pot of coffee, she felt better. She got on the ‘Net again, and looked for more places to apply. She already had her resume written, and she sent it out to every Chicago law firm that had openings and an e-mail address. She broke off to start dinner for her parents.

When Mom came home, she wasn’t shocked by her appearance. Now, if only Jake would keep the secret. Still, she regretted the impression she had made on him. Lori had been absolutely right. Sensible girls didn’t visit boys’ apartments unless they were prepared to have sex with them. She’d visited two boys’ apartments the previous night. Unfortunately, the one who wanted to have sex with her was Dale. While they were setting the table, her cell rang. It was Dale and she went into her room to answer it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “the number you have reached has been disconnected.”

“Cheryl is that you?” He’d recognized her voice.

“That’s right. And this number has been permanently disconnected as far as you’re concerned. Please remove it from your directory. What did you put in my glass last night?”

“It was just tomato juice.”

“Yeah, sure. Was it Everclear?”

“How did you know? Anyway, I only used a little in the rum and Coke. I just wanted you to get a little mellower. Then, when you kept insisting about the belt, I just gave you a little more.”

“I know a little law. That’s statutory rape, you know, getting a girl drunk so that you can have sex with her.”

“We never did it. You got sick first. You should see my sofa.”

“No thanks. I will picture it, though. That’s the most pleasant picture I have from that night. If you call me again, I’ll report you for telephone harassment.”

“Okay. I won’t. Good bye.”

“Good riddance.” But he had already clicked off.

Dad came home right afterwards, and they had dinner. She wondered whether Jake was home yet. She still had to return the clothes he had lent her. She went out the back door and looked up. If she had his rooms right, there was no light in his windows. Still, there was a flickering from one of the windows on that floor. Somebody was watching television, and it might be him. She had put his number in her directory before calling it. She punched it again.

“Hello, Cheryl,” he answered. He must have put her number in his directory when she called the first time.

“Am I interrupting anything? I still have your clothes in my room. Is this a good time to bring them up?”

“Not really. I’m still at work.”

“Still?” she asked.

“Why do you think I was coming home at two in the morning? I’m a junior programmer, and we’re running behind schedule.”

“I shouldn’t interrupt you, then.”

“On the contrary,” Jake said. “I need some breaks, and hearing your voice is the best break I’m likely to get in this office.”


Jake had meant that. Cheryl had a lush contralto. She hadn’t sounded bad when he’d been dating Eve, but she sounded much better now. He would like to hear her in person. He would really like to hear her gasp passionately in his ear. That, however, was taking it much too far. After she hung up, he adjusted himself before turning back to his work.

Ken was one of the guys working on the same project. They were around a big conference table instead of in their own cubicles because the project was at a stage where they had a lot of questions for each other.

“Phone sex instead of working?” Ken asked.

“I wish! It was a call from a girl in the neighborhood. She just has a sexy voice. That’s all. She wasn’t even saying anything erotic.” He wasn’t going to tell Ken about the previous night. Ken didn’t know Cheryl, but her reputation was important to him. There were snorts of disbelief around the table, and then they went back to work.

He didn’t speak to or see Cheryl until Thursday afternoon. He didn’t see many people outside of the company. About two, Thursday, they all figured the current project was as good as it was going to get. He went out in the hall to call Cheryl.

“Is this a good time to talk?” he asked.

“Fine. I’m at home. I’m planning to go out on an interview in a few minutes, though.”

“Congratulations. That’s the hardest step. Well, you said that you owed me.”

“And I still haven’t given you back those clothes,” she said.

“There’s no hurry about that.” Indeed, as long as she had the shorts and shirt, they had a connection, and a connection which was a favor he had done her. “I don’t wear that shirt much in the summer. I figured that you would prefer opaque to light-weight.”

“That’s for sure.”

“Anyway,” he said, “if you want to say thank-you in a nice way, why don’t you let me take you out Friday?”

“Friday, like tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I know it’s short notice, but I’ve been working night and day on this project. I’m about to head home and crash. I’d have happy dreams it you said yes.”

“Well, it’s hardly a thanks for you to take me out ... Yes, though. What time?”

“I figured a meal and then dancing. I’d have to find a place for the dancing, though. What’s your schedule like tomorrow? My schedule calls for me sleeping ‘til noon. I already worked maybe eighty hours this week.”

“I have another interview tomorrow. I expect to start home at five, but you can’t walk out of an interview until they are done with you.”

“Well, it doesn’t make sense for you to come home at rush hour, meet me, and then go back downtown to eat. Why don’t you tell me where? I’ll pick you up there. I’ll get somewhere close, and then you can call me when you’re ready.”

“That’s putting too much on you. You’ve done so much for me already.”

Jake said, “No, I haven’t, and no, it’s not. It’s just efficiency.” So, she told him where, and he wrote it down. Then he went home, stopping for a pizza on the way. He’d had the air conditioner on low when he was coming back in the middle of the night. He needed it cooler now, though, and he turned it up. Then he ate the pizza hot for dinner and put the rest in the ‘fridge. Last, he set the alarm for noon and crawled into bed.

Friday, he ate first and got the dirty clothes to the laundry room second. He showered and got the dishes washed while the clothes were on the wash cycle, and got the kitchen minimally clean while they were on the dry cycle. He got them put away and the apartment in order. Last, he shaved and brushed his teeth again.

He got to the loop at 4:30 and the car in a parking garage not too far from Cheryl’s interview. Then he found a wall closer and leaned against it to wait.


Cheryl realized immediately that this firm was a bad fit for her. She saw the woman interviewing her get the same realization three minutes later. Then they spent an hour being polite to each other. She got out in the hall at 5:10 and called Jake.

“Sorry to be late,” she said.

“Well, an interview’s running late sounds like good news. Clark Street entrance?”

“Clark Street entrance. As for the other, we’ll talk.”

There were three revolving doors out into Clark Street, and apparently no other entrance. When she came out the central one, she saw him striding towards her. Jake was tall; she’d grown inches since she’d been Eve’s little sister that he’d carried up the stairs, and he shouldn’t look as tall as he’d looked then. He still looked tall. He also looked rugged.

“Well,” he said when they came close enough to talk comfortably, “you look impressive. I’d hire you in an instant.”

“Too bad you’re not in the market for paralegals. These guys wanted a file clerk who was going back to high school in September. I knew I didn’t fit; she knew I didn’t fit, but both of us made nice just in case something else came up later.”

“Tough luck. You mind walking a couple of blocks?”

“Not at all,” she said. If they were going to spend the evening dancing, walking a bit before dinner wasn’t an effort.

She found, however, that the pace strained them both. She had to push to keep up with him, and he made an obvious effort to slow down to her level.

Conversation at dinner, however, was quite comfortable for a first date. Instead of, “And where do you come from?” he asked her about Eve’s kids.

The music they danced to was too loud for conversation, and she enjoyed that experience, too. She didn’t need to get to know Jake. She needed to get to know that he was her date.

The place closed at midnight, and they had danced the last dance.

“It’s been a long time since dinner,” Jake said. “Do you want more?”

“Not really. I can’t afford more pounds.”

He helped her into his car and headed for home. He found a parking space not too far away and helped her out. They walked up the stairs in silence.

“Thanks for taking me out,” she said at her doorway, “and for a hell of a lot of other things.”

“Thanks for coming.” He bent to kiss her, and she looked up to accept the kiss. Although his kiss started gently, it scorched her lips. Then he licked them, and she opened to his tongue.

He pressed her against the doorframe as he conquered her mouth.

He lifted her by the ass, and their heads were level. She could feel his hardness pressed against her thigh and his chest pressed against her suddenly-hard nipples. A fire burned deep in her stomach. Time went away.

“I’ll give you more warning next time,” Jake said letting her down. He turned suddenly and headed up the stairs. She took another minute before she looked for her keys and let herself into the apartment.

Luckily, her parents were already in bed. She did the minimum before dropping off herself.

She awoke with a smile on her lips and the sun streaming in her window. She got to the john and back, dressed for the day, and remembered it was Saturday before she had to face her parents.

“Late night last night?” Dad asked when she got to the kitchen. “Don’t fix breakfast. Your Mom will serve lunch in an hour.”

“Not so much late as exhausting. We went dancing, and I did more than I’ve done since I got out of school.”

“Who with?”

“Jake,” she said. She could have predicted his answer.

“Eve’s Jake?”

“Jake Warren. Last time I looked, Eve was still married to Keith Portman.”

“Okay,” Dad said. “But still that Jake. I didn’t know you two were dating.”

“First date. And you know him, and he’s a fine guy.” She was more descriptive when Lori called that afternoon.

“I now know what it’s like to be kissed,” she said.

“That’s your line for him. I know how far you’ve gone with guys, and it’s a hell of a lot farther than kissing.”

“It’s further than their kissing. It’s not as far as that kiss. I almost came in my panties.”

“Question is, ‘Did he?’”

“You have a dirty mind, Lori. We were both fully dressed.”

They talked about her interview and Lori’s life.

Soon after the call was over, she heard a soft sound which was a pattern of thumps carried through windows and the room door from the back yard. She went through the kitchen to the back porch. From there, the sounds were loud, and she could see Jake practice his basketball moves.

He was shirtless, and he seemed to be having trouble with his left leg. He kept going with it, though.

She got the shirt and shorts he’d lent her into the back pack she dug out of the closet. She put a book in there with them and carried it down with her to the bottom of the back stairs.

“I think I’m winning,” she said to Jake. It was Tigger’s line, and she was teasing Jake about playing against himself.

“Hey! I’m better competition than any other available,” he said. He had a t-shirt hanging on the porch, and he came over to put it on. That hid a lot of very male chest, but it also hid a bunch of shiny scar tissue around his shoulder.

“If that’s a challenge, I’ve gotten better in the last ten years.” Jake had taught Eve’s little sister to shoot buckets. It had done wonders for her score in gym class.

“Okay. One on one. You have to bring it out to the edge of the bare area after each bucket or out-of-bounds. Two points a basket, and I give you twenty-to-ten odds. I get a kiss when I beat you.”

“And what do I get?” she asked.

“As if! If you win, you get anything you want. Go out.”

She went to the scrawny strip of grass. He tossed her the ball and came at her. She dribbled twice before he was in front of her. There was a lot of Jake, and he blocked her quite effectively.

She dribbled and turned so she was backing into him. Her butt touched his leg, and it was like backing into a wall.

Well, he had taught her to use every advantage. While still dribbling, she rubbed her butt against his leg. She started left, hitting the ball that way with a wicked backspin on it. She could feel his leg moving to his left.

When the ball came up heading to her right, she broke that way. His leg wasn’t strong enough to push him back, though it had been strong enough to hold him up through hours of dancing the night before.

She got a step on him, and the court was shallow. She sprinted towards the basket, dribbling long. She got off a jump shot, but too soon. It bounced off the rim as Jake caught up with her. His height and arms snagged the ball.

He pivoted and headed out towards the grass. He stopped just at the edge of the bare dirt, and started backing towards her. She backed up four steps before she figured that she didn’t have to. She stood up straight and let him back into her.

When his back pressed against her breasts, she became aware that her nipples were diamond hard -- and agonizingly sensitive.

While she was jolted by this realization, he slipped to his right, pivoted in the clear, and sent off a jump shot.

Nothing but net.

He grabbed the ball as it came down and threw it to the ground. It bounced high, and he was under it when it came down close to the grass. She was near, but he had six inches on her. He grabbed it while she was in the air, and dribbled it behind her before she could turn. She chased him, but he got an easy lay-up before she could catch him.

“Four-Zero,” he said. He batted the ball off to the right corner, but he let her chase it down ahead of him.

When she got the ball, though, he was all over her. She kept backing closer and closer to the backboard, but he was always between her and the net. Indeed, although one person couldn’t surround another, she felt surrounded by him. She dived to the left and came up ready to shoot for the basket. While she was coming up with the ball in her hand, he grabbed the ball with both hands, one under and one over.

For one second, she was dangling from the ball. Then she let go, and he took one dribble and sank the ball.

The line went through her head, “Basketball is the body-contact sport in which body contact is strictly forbidden.” Well, they’d had body contact which would not only bring a whistle from an umpire, her Mom would ground her.

She’d brought the score to fourteen-six and she was gasping for breath. “That’s going to make the kisses too short,” Jake said. What kisses? She had agreed to wager just one.

He took his next shot from fairly far outside. The ball hit the rim, but it went in. “Sixteen-six,” Jake said. They each needed two baskets, and he’d made nearer three for each of hers than two.

He batted the ball high in the air. When it came down at the edge of the dirt part, he was there. So was she, but not as high.

He was half way to the basket when she caught him. She pressed close on his right, forcing him to go left. He was almost out-of-bounds when he took a step back. She passed in front of him, but he gained ground to his right. When she got in front of him, she saw the pole holding up the backboard almost looming over them. He dribbled once, followed the ball down, and jumped from way down with the ball in both hands. He was unbalanced coming up, but he got the ball in anyway.

She got the ball, dribbled five feet, and took her shot. Jake was still getting up.

“Eighteen-eight,” he said. She got the ball, but she went to the outside of the bare area -- as Jake had said, and as she hadn’t done earlier. She drove in, and he was in front of her. She took a desperate jump shot. He grabbed it out of the air, turned, dribbled once, and shot.

It hit the backboard, and he was on the rebound faster than she was. He drove in, and she stood in his way. He went into the air and shot. She saw the ball go in just before they collided.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’ll live. What about your leg?”

“It’s been worse.” Well, it had put him in the hospital for months. Of course it had been worse. They got themselves gingerly to their feet. He led her to the steps coming down from the porch. There, almost nobody in the building could see them. He pulled her arm until she had climbed two steps and was a little above his height.

With his hands cupping her cheeks, he moved against her and kissed her. Heat built in her stomach until she broke to breathe.

He ran his hands down her sides until he was holding her butt. This kiss involved their tongues, and who cared about breathing?

They stood there with their lips touching tenderly, their tongues dueling, and his hands roving everywhere.

When Mom called from the porch behind her, they broke guiltily. She went in, and Jake climbed the stairs to his place.

“You’ve heard the basketball bounce on the ground and hit the backboard?” Mom asked.

“Yeah.” Why did Mom think she’d gone out?

“If you can hear it in action, you can hear it stop.”

Oh.

Mom and she made dinner together and then ate it with Dad. She had to clear and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Only when that was running did she escape to call.

“Before I got distracted, I had planned to ask you to the movies next Saturday,” were Jake’s first words on the cell.

“Yes.” She shouldn’t be too eager. On the other hand, after those kisses, she didn’t think she could fake reluctance. “I put your shirt and shorts in my back pack. Then I forgot to give them to you. I think it’s still on the porch.”

“I’ll get it.”

After a fairly long time, Jake knocked on the back door. He was carrying her bag and the basketball.

“I went down to get the ball,” he said, “and I found this, too. Is it Cheryl’s?”

“Thanks.” Just by looking at it, she could see that only the book was in it now.

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