I opened the door as Kristy came up the driveway. She lived just a block or two away, so as usual, she just walked. Kristy was my babysitter, well, my baby sister’s baby sitter. Me, I’m 15 now, so I don’t need no babysitter!

I had known Kristy for three years now, ever since mom first started hiring her back when I was just 12, and she was 15. My sister, well, half-sister, was only 6 months old then and now 3 (and a HALF she reminded us constantly). Kristy babysat for us loads of times over those years.

Mom was gone again for a couple days on another business trip, and she always had Kristy come over during that time. Kristy was such a fixture around our house that mom let her use the basement bedroom for herself. She even kept some clothes and stuff here. Kristy said she liked staying over to get away from her own “madhouse” at times. She also said that we were such good “kids”, which I hated.

It was after I turned 15 that things shifted for me. Originally, Kristy was just “the babysitter”, then she was kinda like a big sister, but now, well, she was a ... Girl! Thus, I met her at our door.

“Oh, hi, Rick! I thought you were going to be out.”

Kristy greeted me, closing her umbrella and knocking the water off her rubber boots. Yes, she had a key to the house, but I wanted to be a gentleman...

“Ah, well, it’s ‘sposed to rain all night tonight, and Dan’s mom didn’t want to drive us...”

“ ... but I didn’t mind!” I blurted a little too quickly, then embarrassed, holding the door for her.

Kristy at 18 looked, well, fine! More than fine. Her 5 foot 6 inches of perfectly shaped female body that young women can have, particularly those cheerleader types with their blond hair, blue eyes, tanned legs, muscular tummies, and firm rounded, ah, well, just everything.

I can’t believe that just a year or so ago, I was such a brat that I didn’t like being around Kristy because she was ‘The Babysitter’, and I was NOT a baby. Ok, back then, I wasn’t going to babysit my little sister either, so I put up with Kristy, and she put up with me, I guess.

Jesus, I was dumb back then! A year sure changes a guy’s perspective!

“Rick, you can close the door. I’m in,” she giggled at my awkwardness.

She had to slide by my 5 foot 8 inch body, half blocking the door and totally fixated on her to the point I had forgotten I was even standing in the doorway. Luckily, my lean, if rather lanky body wasn’t blocking too much. Soccer kept me in pretty decent shape, I figure.

It was then I noticed her eyes were wet ... and not from rain.

“Are you ok?” I tentatively asked, trying not to pry.

She gave me a depressing kind of a face and wiped her tears.

“Sorry. I just broke up with my boyfriend.”

She had taken her raincoat off and placed it on a hook and was taking off her boots as she looked up at me.

“Oh,” I said, sorry, not sorry.

“Yeah, he cheated on me ... with one of my best friends! The louse! Both of them!”

She had on her typical shorts and tee shirt. Sports shorts and a loose tee, that is. Long legs and now barefoot. I had a hard time keeping with the conversation.

“Oh ... sorry,” was all I could think of to say.

Personally, I had not had many girlfriends, ok one girlfriend and that was a year ago, and she had ‘moved on’. So...

“Well, you have me!” I exclaimed, as a kind of a joke.

She laughed but looked at me.

The Brat, my baby sister, came running down and into Kristy’s arms with a big hug. I wanted a big hug too, but not from baby sister. Ok, her name isn’t Brat, but Kitty, well Katherine, Kat, Kitty.

Mom had said I could order pizza for us, which was typical for our Kristy, Kitty, and Ricky dinner. (Mom, DON’T call me Ricky! It’s ‘Rick’ now.) Anyway, Kristy likes all-veggie pizzas, and I like all meat. Kat likes anything; she just picks off the stuff she doesn’t want, which is usually everything.

Usually, I order a half and half, but trying to impress Kristy, I ordered an all-veggie this time.

As I tentatively picked at the vegetables on my piece, looking more like Kitty’s finicky eating, I glanced at Kristy. She was just smiling at me, knowingly. I’m sure I blushed, so I proceeded to eat the whole piece. No more picking for me. Amazing what a girl can make a guy do!

After dinner, Kristy took Kitty up for her bath and bed while I cleaned up ... yes, true story! I cleaned up the table, tossing the uneaten half and went to the bathroom, and brushed my teeth, yes, mouthwash and all. Even looked at my face in the mirror, combed my hair with my fingers, smelled my breath ... and my underarms, now where was that deodorant? Jesus, you’d think I was going on a date. I sat on the couch in my typical spot, turned on the TV to some movie already in progress, and zoned out.

Our basement had a family room with a couch, TV, and some games and stuff along with a bathroom and the bedroom, Kristy’s bedroom. Ok, I admit I had investigated it once, twice ... Anyway, she just had a few clothes there as well as a couple photos and a stuffed toy. Oh, and underwear; Bra and Panties, with a capital B and P. Without an older sister, I never got exposed to that kind of stuff.

There were a few other items of clothing like socks and such. Oh, back to those Bras and Panties. I blushed as I touched them, felt them, ok, yes, sniffed them. They were wonderful, like perfumed detergent. Washed. I’m sure I was beet red as I stuffed them away, trying to arrange them the way I found ‘em and then hurried out of her sanctum. That was a few days ago. I still felt embarrassed when I glanced toward there. So I avoided looking and focused on the TV.

Kristy came down the stairs in her cute little gallop, plopped down on the couch ... beside me! Not her usual place on the other end of the sofa. She folded her beautiful long legs under her. I had to adjust myself.

“What ‘cha watching?”

I hadn’t a clue as I had utterly lost attention to the TV.

“Ah, nothing in particular.” as I handed her the remote, “You pick something!” being gallant.

She did. Something that had handsome guys and virtuous women and horses and whatever.

She watched intently. I was intent on other things. Tears came to her eyes again. The ex-boyfriend, not the movie.

“Ah, are you ok?” I asked, yet again.

Her hand patted mine. “Boys are so MEAN sometimes!”

“Uh, not me!” I quickly offered as a witty return.

She responded with a cute little giggle, a smile, and another pat on the hand. Her hand remained now in mine.

“Yes, you are not mean, Rick.”

She smiled again. She called me ‘Rick’ not ‘Ricky’!

Her face was still intent on the TV. The lovers kissed ... TV lovers, that is. Kristy’s fingers laced through mine. I didn’t move a muscle, other than to remember to breathe. We were holding hands!

She started quietly talking and went into more detail about her ex-boyfriend, before and then after, including their rather heated debate on the virtues of monogamy and trust. I listened to her voice, watched her face as she continued to watch the TV show while she talked. The TV lovers broke up as she slapped him. The TV girl cried, and then Kristy cried.

My free hand went to her face. I wiped a tear with my knuckle. I felt her hand tightened around mine. Outside, the rain had started to increase. Raindrops beat against our windows while wind swept the Irish countryside of the TV show.

Her head leaned onto my shoulder as she continued to watch the show. My heart beat louder in my ears than the horse’s hooves of the soldiers in the movie. Her face turned slightly towards mine, eyes still on the movie. Oh God, she can be kissed! I can kiss her, right here, right now. Inches from my lips are hers. I start to turn.

“Rick, you are a good boy.” She said abruptly, still watching the TV.

Boy. Boy! BOY! I am a GOOD BOY! I want to yell, ‘I am NOT a BOY, I am a Young Man! A young man who loves you! Yes, I LOVE you, Kristy McPherson!’

I said nothing, but leaned away, holding back my passion and my anger.

But then she kissed me. Ok, just on the cheek. But it’s a kiss. HER kiss. I can’t hold back. I go for it.

I kiss her. On the lips.

Just a quick peck. Not very good. Untrained and boyish. I’m angry at myself. I’m also waiting to be slapped.

She looks at me. Surprised, then pensive, then puzzled, as if something confused her. Her eyes are no longer on the movie. They aren’t on me exactly but are staring through me. Focused on something else. Thinking. They focus back on me.

I blubber, “Uh, sorry, ah, I didn’t ... It just...”

She looks at me with ‘shush’ eyes. I shushed. Her hand squeezes mine. She leans in. We kiss. Not a long kiss. Just a second or two that lasted an eternity. Her eyes are still watery. We kiss again. And again. I’m getting pretty good at this. No, I’m not. I am sweating all over, my mouth is dry, my palms sweaty, my heart racing. I’m scared and excited at the same time. She, Kristy McPherson, 18-year-old hottie, is kissing me! On the couch, in our basement, without parents anywhere to be found.

My arms go around her. I resist my body saying ‘grab the titties’. I hug her. Her arms are around me. She has moved more onto me, pushing me back and down into the corner of the couch. I have a girl nearly on top of me. Kissing me. We are making out!

She suddenly stops. Rats! Her brain has caught up to her body. She looks at me. Intently, studying me ... her eyes narrow, thinking. I feel her warmth on me. I smell her perfume. I smell her hair beside my face. She is still just inches away. A decision is made by her. I don’t know what it was.

“Rick,” she starts in a whisper, “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of COURSE!” I try to contain myself.

Is she going to reveal some intimate detail of her life?

“Really, really keep a secret. Even if we do something?”

“Yes, absolutely! I would NEVER tell.” (tell who what?) I don’t have many friends to tell anything to anyway.

She looks straight at me, “Make love to me.”

Now, this is modern times, and modern women are more forward and well, assertive. But a 15-year-old boy (YOUNG MAN!) being asked to perform something that he has only dreamed about but never ever actually accomplished is, well, pretty significant.

“Ok,” is all I could squeak.

I think I came in my pants as they all of a sudden got rather sticky.

Rebound lover. I am her rebound lover. Ok, that’s fine. I’m fine with that. I like being rebounded upon!

She kisses me again, deeper this time. Our lips part and squeeze together. I’m glad I brushed my teeth. I don’t care that she hasn’t. She tastes wonderful. Heavenly. Her legs have shifted over my legs. She is straddling me, lying on top of me. Her body pressed against mine. Only our clothes keep us chaste. I want to tell her I love her, that I have loved her for months, all my life. I want to tell her about being in her bedroom, touching her underwear. No secrets. I say nothing because we are kissing and kissing.

She pulls off her top. Just her bra remains. I look at her tatas, then her face.

She breaks off, “Are you ok with this? I mean...”

I nod my head affirmative, very affirmative. My lips move towards hers. She kisses me. Her tongue touches my lips. I open my mouth to her tongue flicking in, touching mine, sparks all over. My underpants feel wetter. Outside it’s raining harder. Luckily Kat sleeps like a rock, very unlikely to awaken. What would Kat’s tender eyes see if she did? ‘Mommy! Ricky and Kristy were doing funny things on the couch!’

Kristy pauses again, a worried look across her face. “Do you like me?”

Surprise crashes across my face. ‘Like’? Hell, I LOVE YOU! I’d marry you right now if I could!

“Kristy,” I start; girls like hearing their name, “Kristy, yes, I do. I, ah, I...”

She puts a finger to my mouth. She knows I want to say the L-word. She knows a 15-year-old boy can’t really know what love means. She kisses that 15-year-old boy, and he stays quiet.

She feels comfortable with him. Me. She had felt comfortable with him for a long time, even an attraction. He is funny. He is cute. He is tall and ... built. She knows he is attracted to her. That he is kind and gentle with her and in recent months, attentive. Very attentive. Puppy love. No ... it’s more than that. She felt herself blush many times around him. They had played little games for months; a look here, a touch there. Had she not been dating ... But now.