Chapter 1

Modern Day - Christmas Eve

The family and I sat by the Christmas tree, having popcorn and hot cocoa with my nine grandchildren. I was glad all of us lived in the same town, so it was easy for them and their parents to visit often. When I checked on the kids’ most precious gifts a few minutes before they were sitting on blankets in my bedroom closet. I gently petted the two mother cats’ heads, as they licked and fed their seven kittens. I knew the next day would be an extra-special Christmas.

Little three-year-old Lisa was sitting at an awkward angle, with her elbow poking me in the stomach. I tickled her ribs and moved her around a little. She happily smiled and put half a handful of popcorn into her mouth. I smiled and giggled along with her, as the rest fell in her lap.

Everything was happy and calm, until ten-year-old Stacy asked; “So Grampy Dan, how did you and Grammy Elise meet?”

Elise and I both coughed, then blushed furiously for a moment. I thought a bit and fibbed, “I met your Grammy at a coffee shop when she was twenty. Remember, you should never kiss anybody or fall in love until you’re at least twenty.”

Thirty Years Earlier - June

As I woke, a firecracker of pain exploded behind my eyebrows. My mouth felt like I had eaten a bucket of sand. I reluctantly forced an eye open. I saw that I was laying on the hotel bed, wearing nothing but a single sock. All the lights were on and there was a thin ribbon of sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains, right into my burning eyes.

There was a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin on the table next to me. I drank a little water and downed three of the pills. I must have known I would have a hangover and left it there, as I usually did the few times that I drank much. I finished the water and had to pee. I rolled off the bed and fell on the floor as I tried to stand. I was still a little dizzy. I carefully got up, leaned on the table, then staggered to the bathroom. I held the sink with one hand to keep my balance. I fervently wished the room would stop spinning.

With my other hand I reached for my penis. It was half erect and I had a hell of a time starting to piss. When my bladder was finally empty, I noticed lipstick on my chest and a coating of dried filth on my cock and belly. It was obviously shower time, as soon as I was able to stand safely. What the HELL happened last night? Did I shit myself? Did I sleep with somebody?

I staggered back to the bed. Nope, I was alone, and the bed was clean. I had to move something out of the sink before I could wash the dried crap off my hands. It was a pink hat. Was I with a girl last night?

I saw a note on the table, but it was in small cursive writing. My eyes refused to work well enough for me to read it. I decided a shower and maybe some food would be good. On the phone I saw the sticker with large lettering “DIAL 333 FOR ROOM SERVICE”

I was very hungry, so I ordered a number six and a number eleven. I had no idea what that was, but 6 and 11 were my lucky numbers. I also ordered two large coffees. I didn’t think just one would do the job.

I felt a little steadier on my feet. I closed the curtains and shut off most of the lights, and my poor eyes were very grateful. Ok, time for a shower. I leaned on the bathroom wall and started to doze off a moment.

I remembered a bizarre scene from the night before. I was nude and a naked girl was on the floor in a strange position. She had her face down and her ass sticking up in the air. A fountain of diarrhea sprayed out of her butt! She squealed and laughingly announced, “Chocolate covered bananas!” Liquid poop landed all over her, and on my crotch and belly. After that mental image, I was sure I’d never eat a chocolate covered banana again! Or ANY banana! I felt like throwing up, but my stomach was empty.

I opened the shower door and panicked. There was a girl laying at the bottom of the shower! Was she DEAD? OHMYGAWD! She was face down, leaning against the wall, with her filthy butt in the air. Her ass, back, and legs had dried, crusty shit all over them. There was dried vomit on her face, hair, and the shower floor.

When I recovered from the shock a bit, I looked closer. I didn’t see any blood or obvious injuries. I nudged her hip with my sock-clad foot. I saw her breathe and she mumbled something. She wasn’t dead! YES! I struggled to remember. Did I know her? Who was she? Did I have sex with her?

A bit more memory flashed to me. I was sitting at a table in a bar and a beautiful blonde girl was laying on her back on the table, wearing one of those funny French hats, a beret or something. It was pink and she had her t-shirt pulled up. I could see her belly and the bottoms of her massive breasts. She poured some tequila in her navel and I lapped it up. I hated tequila, but she was very hot.

She had a tattoo below her navel. There was an arrow pointing down and “Property of Daddy”. Twisted, sick, and slutty. The type I would never go near when I was sober, but usually ended up with when I drank too much.

I nudged the girl in front of me with my foot again, “Hey, time to get up.”

She mumbled, “mmmerremb ububurrr BANANAS!”

I pushed on her leg, “Hey, wake up!”

She rolled partway over, but some of her long blonde hair was stuck to the floor with filth. “Ow! My hair!”

“Take it easy, I’ll help you get cleaned up.”

We smelled horrible, like a booze-soaked ashtray on a dirty toilet. I turned on the shower and washed us. As I cleaned her body, I noticed she was cute and shapely, but not quite like I remembered. Her boobs were nice, but medium-sized instead of huge. Under all the dried poop, she had a very sexy little ass, and I was surprised at how large her anus was. There were scars from several old injuries around it, and on her upper thighs. I got sad and angry at the same time, as I saw that.

I checked her belly several times, but she didn’t have any tattoos. The previous night, she was wearing big hoop earrings. The girl I was washing had small silver earrings, with just the letters “U” and “F”. I chuckled as I realized, “Oh, F - U! She’s a little rebel!”

She was mostly unconscious, and no help at all. Once we were clean, I half-dragged her to the bed and covered her with a sheet.

I threw on a bath robe as there was a knock at the door. “Room service!” I brought the coffees and food in and set them on the table. The delivery guy stood at the door waiting for something. I was slow to realize he expected a tip.

“Just a sec, let me find my wallet.” I found it under a tiny pair of red panties. I handed him a twenty and he left.

I smelled one of the food boxes. It was something Italian, pizza or pasta? Whatever it was smelled nice, but my stomach was suddenly queasy again. I carefully put the box down.

I wondered again, who was she? What did we do last night? Why did I have a wedding ring on?

WEDDING RING! I wasn’t married! Was I? No, I’ve never been married. She only looked about 14. Why did SHE have a wedding ring? Even if she’s married, why did a KID have a ring with a HUGE ROCK like that?

KID!!!

FOURTEEN!!!

FUCK!

What have I done?

I’M GONNA DIE IN PRISON!

I looked in her purse. Under a speeding ticket and two empty packs of cigarettes, I found a student ID. “Elise Grennart - Sophomore - Date of birth...”

NO! NO! NO! According to her license, she was 15! But at least 15 would get me weeks in jail and a big fine, instead of a decade or more in prison.

I tried to calm myself as I went to look at the note on the table again. Mercifully, my eyes worked this time.

“You married the little bitch, now she’s YOUR problem! Leave a message at 312-**** with your address, and maybe I’ll send you a Christmas card! Hugs and kisses! Now fuck off and go away! Elsy”

Under the note was a folded-up copy of a marriage license, fully filled-out and signed. It had my signature on it! Oh shit!

‘Elsy Grennart’ was written on the line for ‘Parent or Guardian’s permission’, but ‘Elise Grennart’ for one of the ‘Spouse’ lines.