Chapter 4: Rhett Butler Had it Easy

For a couple of moments, a fully dysfunctional silence held sway. Realising that she was completely naked still, Tracy tugged the coverlet up swiftly. She wasn’t so much blushing as utterly transfixed with embarrassment. I was long past that stage!

“Can I talk to you in the kitchen Kathy?” I muttered. Despite my probable imminent arrest, I was determined to make the most of my one phone call. Eyeballing me steadily, Kathy retreated from the room closing the bedroom door behind her.

“I’m so sorry Bill,” Tracy whispered. The onset of a few preliminary tears adding to her mortified expression. “I never wanted to get you into trouble.”

A total sucker for any female in distress, I brushed a few locks of hair from her forehead and kissed her gently.

“I’ve been in a few tricky situations in my life Trace.” I told her. “Always managed to extricate myself somehow, so let me go talk to your step-mom. Worst that can happen is that she keeps a shotgun in the broom closet somewhere.”

That at least brought a smile to her pretty face.

Kathy though was not smiling. I sat myself down at the breakfast table. The Crown Prosecutor was considering her opening address.

“She’s just seventeen Bill, how could you?”

“A moment of unheralded weakness Kathy,” I replied. “Maybe I’ve been single too long ... maybe not long enough? Perhaps the offer – and truly Kathy, the suggestion did not come from me – flattered my ego.” I could see I was not helping my case, to judge by Kathy’s expression.

“Maybe you’re just an entrenched pedophile Bill?” she rounded on me. “Just how many other ‘moments’ like this have there been in the recent past?”

“Why none Kathy.” I lied outright. Sure, she’s been flirty ... they all have to be honest, but hey that’s just young girls for you – you know that!”

She looked me over a couple of times. “The only reason I’m not calling the Police Bill is that I know Tracy well enough to believe she is hardly likely to have been a completely innocent party, not that it excuses what you did to her you understand?” I nodded dutifully.

“However you look at it though, you still took advantage of a technically underage girl Bill – and that just isn’t acceptable ... even if she did make it easy for you. I thought better of you than that.”

Just for a second she lowered her eyes and I can almost swear I saw the look of a girl whose boyfriend she had just discovered exiting the girls’ locker room with a pair of panties hanging out of his trouser pocket.

I looked up at her. She really was a fine looking woman...

“Kathy,” I began, but she held her hand up. “No Bill, don’t say anything else, I’m really upset about this.” My instincts told me that it was somewhat more than just Tracy she was upset about!

“Look,” I said eventually, “I know nothing I can say will make things right Kathy, and I can never justify my actions with Tracy, but would you let me at least take you to dinner tonight?”

She looked across at me with a healthy, if not understandable degree of scepticism. “Just give us an opportunity to talk between ourselves - away from the kids for a while.” I continued. “I’d really like that.”

I watched as her mind ran the numbers. Was this just my pitiful attempt to smooth over the situation? Would accompanying me on a date fatally undermine her position of authority? How long was it since any man had asked her out?

“If I agree Bill, it doesn’t mean that I’m happy about what’s happened,” she answered deliberately. “Or that I’m just gonna forget about it.” She added spontaneously.

“Deal,” I said. “Think the worst of me all night ... I probably deserve it anyway.” I added grinning.

The three girls were not overly delighted at being left alone for the evening. Tracy was looking at me with quite obvious distrust. Mandy left the dinner-table early and slunk back to her room, while Mary wanted to know if she could stay awake till we got home?

For a town with barely three thousand population, Greensboro offers a pretty comprehensive range of eating options. At Kathy’s suggestion we made it to the “Lucky 32 Restaurant” on Westover Terrace. The food was up there with the best New York has to offer and the service pleasingly efficient.

By the time we had disposed of the shared appetiser - pan fried crab cakes - Kathy had recalled in detail the early years with the girls’ father. Hadn’t been anything you would particularly want over by the sounds of things.

For mains, Kathy opted for the ‘Southern Crescent Chicken’ smothered in pimento cheese while I took delivery of one enormous ‘Kentucky Ribeye,’ marinated so they advertise, in bourbon overnight. This freed up the conversation further and by the time we had emptied the bottle of Veuve Clicquot Yellow Label also, there was little either did not know about the other. I was beginning to imagine Kathy in positions other than those that might be referred to as demure!

Although my wallet took a substantial beating at the check-out, courtesy of the Veuve one must admit, no-one has ever exited a restaurant world-wide, more replete or better serviced gastronomically. I held her hand as we made our way back to the pick-up and the messages I was getting, bespoke anything but confrontation.

It being well after eleven thirty when we got back, we checked on the girls. All were sound asleep. I gave Mary the lightest kiss on the cheek. “Such a little cutie,” I muttered.

“Such a little manipulator you mean?” Kathy half-giggled. I looked up at her. The war on terror was not foremost in my mind let’s say!

Can’t say for certain now what triggered the ensuing activities. I recall giving Kathy a goodnight kiss at her bedroom doorway. Perhaps the Veuve had one last kick in its tail, but no more than five minutes later I was unzipping her dress mid coverlet, and with Kathy adorned suddenly in no more than her bra and panties, I really could think of no good reason for going back to my own bed.

Even with the lights out, the room played host to sufficient moonlight that I could clearly make out the urgency in her expression. She gasped as I slipped the bra straps down her arms and as her breasts were freed of their constraints, I realised abruptly the yawning gulf that exists between a pretty teenager and an experienced woman.

Slipping her panties off I eased her down alongside me and kissed her with all the passion so beautiful a female demands. She clung to me, yet it was I felt the student. Her nipples had grown noticeably erect and as I manipulated them between thumb and forefinger she began issuing sighs of obvious pleasure, all the while encouraging me to further exploratories.

I allowed my hand to slip between her legs where a trimmed softness welcomed my inbound invaders to the city outskirts before leading inexorably to those delicate moist folds that like rose petals confronted by the morning sun, opened up their inner secrets releasing their enticing scent.