Chapter 9

Bob’s turn:

Succumbing to the inevitable. A few weeks of taking care of Carolina Angele Williams and I’m solidly in love. Would be the makings of tragedy if not for one fact.

She loves me. My soulmate. Way young, sure enough, but horrible punster, bright, funny, happy, curious.

Devoted. She used to go out to meet friends on Wednesdays and Saturdays. She quit that.

“Why aren’t you going out?” I asked her.

“Because what I want to see is here, Bob.”

We’re getting married.

That’s the latest. She’s sitting in my lap, lame excuse was her report card. I’ve wished...

I would have never made the first move. I could wish, I could imagine, I could want, but no ... had to be her move.

Once the ice was broken, a layer at a time, then I possessed it, but I didn’t initiate. She said, “I love you.” Now, ‘I love you’. I’m free to say it. Between the two of us, I have that freedom. Blonde, blue-eyed, that sleek hair tossed in a carefree way across her forehead. I’m free to love that.

Now, we’ve passed the ‘holding hands’ stage and the ‘friendly kiss’ stage. My arms are around her. Bad. Her arms are around me. Good. Better. A kiss. Best.

A date on the calendar. She turns seventeen. That’s legal age of consent. Somewhere in the nearest future, we’ll get married. She’s not trying to gain a sugar daddy or whatever. I was with her when we set up a bank account and an investment account, and if she plays things conservatively, she won’t have to work unless she wants to.

The happy girl didn’t stay on my lap long. We both have things to do. Acquiring dinner is one of them.

“Why don’t we go out and celebrate?” I said. “You’re the winner today, so you choose...”

“That little Italian place. They have great lasagna.”

“Lasagna it is, then.”

“I’ll be right back.”

When she returned, her already sleek hair was brushed to perfection and a wisp of perfume assailed my senses.

“Let’s go!”

We headed up the road and into town. Pleasant meal. Conversation about her school activities. She asked about the work I was doing.

“Neat, working from home.”

“Yeah, I kinda like it. A decade of cubby-holing every document I could lay my hands on. I can pick and poke and put together some things pretty fast.”

“Pay’s good?”

“The pay is pretty good for sitting in my own house.”

“Our house,” she corrected.

“Yes, our HOME. It was just a house until you showed up. Like a den so I had someplace to get in out of the cold...” I smiled. “And then one day I went to the bus station...”

She giggled. “Once upon a time...”

“Almost is, baby.”

“I like being ‘baby’. It’s different being ‘baby’ to you than it was with Grandma.”

“I love you differently than your Grandma.”

“I hope so, Bob,” she said.

We paid the ticket, left, had a discussion about whether we needed to stop anywhere on the way home.

“Nope. Take me home.”

Not that much of a discussion.

Once home, we went in separate directions, me to my bathroom, she to hers. I’m fast. Shower, shave, etc. Okay, she likes this aftershave, so a splash ... I like the way it feels.

When I get out, she’s still in her process. I hear the hair dryer running. Sometimes she dries with it, sometimes not.

I turned on the TV, not expecting much to be on, certainly giving her the chance to make a choice.

I was in my recliner, wearing the pajamas that had become de rigeur since Carlie moved in. Carlie bounced out wearing her customary knit cotton nightshirt, loose, down to just above her knees. I’m happy with that choice. She has others. She bought a couple of pairs of thin cotton pajamas like mine.

“Men’s clothes are cheaper,” she laughed when she bought them.

Wearing them that night, she observed that they didn’t fit exactly right.

“You have protrusions where the average guy doesn’t.”

“I see that now...”

“Too uncomfortable?”

“Noooo,” she said. “How’s it look?”

“Good. Suitably chaste. Cute.” Also gives a man with normal libido a whole checklist of things to think about. The top was loose over her breasts. She’s not big-breasted, by any measure. ‘Perky’ is the operative term. A safety pin from my stash took a hitch up in the waistband so they’d stay above her hips. She’s slender, sylphish.

Tonight, though, in the nightshirt, she’s a fantasy in a different wrapper. Knit cotton has the ability to stretch and form if it’s not given the chance to flow on its own. As she sat back on the sofa, that fabric formed over a titty in perfect display.

The kissing and snuggling earlier caused me to think that I could take a little more time to actually view and appreciate the joy of having a pretty young girl around the house.

“You’re staring...”

“People stare at the Mona Lisa,” I said. “And she is but a shadow, compared to you.”

“Stoppitttt!” she squealed, her smile showing what her words meant. “And why are you in that recliner?”

“I’ve been in this recliner every evening since you’ve known me. You have the sofa. I have the recliner. Order in the universe.”

“I could understand that when I first got here, before we figured each other out,” she said. “Now, though, I wouldn’t mind being close to you. If you came over here...”

I tried hard not to skip, crossing the room.

“Where do you want me?”

“You stretch out on this thing, then I’ll make myself fit.”

As she stood, she ‘bumped’ into me. Octopi don’t throw arms around their prey that fast.

“Mmmmm. I love that scent.”

“You oughta. You told me to buy it.”

Giggle. “And you follow instructions well. Lie down.”

I positioned myself on my side, my back solidly against the back of the sofa. A quick assessment of the amount of room left in front of me meant this was going to result in close contact.

She looked at the same space and she smiled, wiggled her butt into place, pressed her torso back into my chest, grabbed the hand of the arm that was underneath her.

“Hold me so I don’t fall off while I get comfortable.” And wiggles. Entirely too many wonderful wiggles.

Ol’ Dickie thought life was taking a definite upturn, so he did his thing – full, diamond-cutting erection. I shuddered, wiggled myself, trying NOT to poke him against her.

Got, “Be still!” and she wiggled all the way back against him. At least he was pointed in the right direction.

The giggles that accompanied the wiggles told me that she knew.

“Feels good to be held again, Bob.”

“I was just holding you a while ago.”

“You know what I mean.” She dragged the hand of the arm I had over her waist tighter, using her free hand, looking for a place to land it. finally, her fingers laced into mine, she put it between those perky breasts. “Mmmmm. You feel so good, holding me.”

“You do realize...” I started.

She wiggled in response, adding, “Yeah ... I kinda am, too. Wonderful glow...”

“You KNOW what you do to me?”

“I’m not stupid, Bob. I know that guys get aroused. Do you know that girls get aroused?”

“I’ve heard that.”

“You do that to me. It’s only fair that I do that to you.”

“Just so you know...” and I nuzzled the back of her head.

“You really do love me, don’t you?”

“I do,” I said. “But right now, there’s an awful lot of lust...”

“I know. I’m not teasing you, baby,” she stated. “I really do like this. Just being held. Being important to you.”

“Important? Try ‘essential’. You do understand, sweetness, that while my head and my heart are trying to be all high-level about us...”

Giggle. “That thing’s got other plans?”

“That thing doesn’t have a plan at all.”

“But we’re not subject to those parts, right?”

“Trying not to be,” I sighed.

“Couple of weeks, baby,” she said. “You have to know that I’ve thought all this through. Every part of me will belong to you and every part of you will belong to me and it will be wonderful.” Another wiggle. She released my right hand while it was right on top of her right breast. Patted my hand. “Watch TV.”

“TV?!? With this?” I gave the object of my immediate adoration a gentle caress.

She patted my hand again. “Don’t get radical.”

Okay. I’m being granted a privilege. Bob, it’s not time to act like a pig. I settled down. I can do this. Watching dinosaurs eat random employees is calming.

Commercial.

Giggle. “You did settle down, didn’t you.”

“I am master of my universe,” I said. “Against insurmountable odds, I have prevailed.” I paused. “And you stopped wiggling.”

“Oh. So if...”

She wiggled a quite attractive heinie. It’s not one of those exaggerated round ones, it’s actually a bit of the lithe, dancer-like variety.

Ol’ Dickie woke up and said ‘Hi there!’

“I feel that. I’ll stop.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“Just seeing if I really have the power.”

“You have the power.”

She twisted around, kissed me, then at the roar of a dinosaur, rolled back over.

It ain’t over until the T-rex screams. We came to that part, having swapped ends once and having swapped places, well, kinda. She ended up lounging halfway up the sofa with my head in her lap, but it’s bed-time.

The good-night kiss before she headed to her room was hotter than last night’s.

I have a perfect mattress, it’s my bed, the room is cool, a little fan provides white noise to ease me into sleep very easily.

I didn’t even hear the door open. Didn’t feel the bed move. Realized what was going on when I rolled over and there was...