Chapter 1

Love at first sight. Say the phrase and many people scoff, claiming it's simply lust disguised as longing. A false sense of belonging. A product of hormones and pheromones in some sort of crazy dance. They say love is more than visual, and of course it is, but still...

Talk to the rest of the world, the people who know what love at first sight really is... and you'll get an entirely different response.

I am in the second group.

Love at first sight exists. Sometimes it even works out.

Who was it in my case?

It was Emily Hubbard.

I saw her for the first time the day I graduated from junior high. She was shy and pretty and pale and beautiful, and I knew I had to get to know her.

I knew the boy she was standing with was her brother Kyle, and assumed the two adults off to the side were their parents. I knew Kyle enough to know his name, but aside from that we had probably talked less than a handful of times in our eight years of schooling. That didn't slow me down in the least.

"Kyle!" I shouted across the courtyard, drawing some stern looks, no doubt, "we made it!" I reached him as he was closing in the punch bowl, where four or five of his friends had also gathered.

"John, right?" he asked, undoubtedly confused as to who I was and why I was so excited to see him. I nodded.

"Yep, high school next year. Gotta love that, right?"

He gave me a look, but nodded at me. He quickly turned and began talking with his friends, a mob of adolescent boys standing next to the punch bowl.

This wasn't going the direction I had hoped, so I played my next card. "Those your parents over there?" I asked, jerking my head toward where his family was standing. Subtlety was never a strong point with me.

He looked to where I had motioned. "Yeah... Damn. It's almost time to go." I looked again and they were indeed making the general hurry-up-we-have-to-go-or-we're-going-to-be-late gestures.

"What are their names?" I asked, hoping. Hoping he would say...

"Do you want to meet them? You could. My dad is the coolest." Turning around, he addressed the group of friends he was abandoning. "You're in charge of the punch, got it? Make sure everyone has a good time."

He leered as they gave him knowing looks. It wasn't until that exchange that I saw the thin silver flask being passed from hand to hand, just out of sight of the chaperones. A good time indeed. Distracted, I wondered just how drunk an entire group would get on such a small bit of alcohol, when I noticed Kyle standing there. What was he waiting for? Oh!

"Uh... yeah, sure. I'll meet your parents." And your sister! I silently shouted to myself.

We walked over to where his parents and sister were standing, a little bit back from the rest of the reception. As we drew closer, I was able to hear Mr. Hubbard, a man I would grow to despise, chastising Emily, although for what I wasn't able to tell.

"Now you will not let this happen again. Not today, not ever. Do you understand?"

Emily nodded her head.

"I didn't hear you, Emily. Answer me when I ask you a question. And look at me. Always look a person in the eye when they're talking to you. Do you understand?" Emily raised her head, and I could see her eyes were puffy from crying.

"I understand."

"Good. Boys! Congratulations. Kyle, who's your friend? I don't know if we've met." Kyle went through the introductions, and I shook Mr. and Mrs. Hubbard's hands and accepted their congratulations. If they wondered why they were suddenly being introduced to me, after Kyle and I had been in school together for so long, they were tactful enough to not mention it.

When it came time to meet Emily, Kyle simply waved his hand and muttered 'this is my sister.'

"Emily," she provided, smiling at me and reaching out to shake hands with me.

Suddenly my mouth was as dry as a desert. It was all I could do to squeak out a very unmanly "hello," while all the blood rushed to my face.

Damn puberty!

To my horror, I quickly realized not all the blood was heading north, as a fair amount appeared to be heading straight to my dick. I felt my pants grow tight and my face grow hot as I realized the power Emily already had over me. The simple act of seeing her smile, hearing her voice and feeling her soft hand in mine had given me an erection!

Emily giggled, whether from my predicament or the sudden octave shift in my voice, I don't know. Happily she said nothing, and no one else seemed to notice.

Suddenly her father turned on her. "God dammit Emily! What did I tell you? I work too hard for this family to stand around empty handed and hungry. Margaret," he added, turning to his wife, "why don't you teach your daughter some responsibility for once? Go get me and Kyle some food."

Suddenly the gracious host, he turned back to me, "Did you want anything? John, right? It wouldn't be any trouble."

I admitted I'd already eaten a plate, but would be more than happy to help Emily get the food, 'so you and your wife can talk with Kyle.' This got me a funny look and the assurance that Emily would be more than happy to get everything by herself, but before he was finished I shot after her, earning a look of gratitude and a quiet 'thank you, ' that I alone could hear.

Glancing back I saw Mr. Hubbard and Kyle giving me odd, unsettling looks, but I ignored them.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For helping out with the food, and getting me away from my dad. He can be pretty mean sometimes."

"It was no problem. I'm glad to help." This again earned me a dazzling smile. If it hadn't been love at first sight, I would have surely been smitten after this. I was awestruck. She and I talked while waiting in line, and I learned she was eleven to my fourteen, and would be starting junior high in the fall.

As she talked about her friends, I looked her over more closely and began noticing the small details. A wisp of hair slightly out of place. The way her pony tail covered, but managed to accentuate her long, elegant neck. How when she was listening to me talk she would never look directly at me, instead glancing out of the corner of an eye. How the dress she was wearing, a simple spring dress, hung on her. She was still very much a girl but beginning to blossom into a woman. From the slight bumps of her new breasts to the way the dress curved when it hit her hips, to the way the smooth fabric clung to and accented her round buttocks, I was in love. At least in as much love as a fourteen year old boy can be.

As Emily and I were nearing the first table of food, an elderly lady ahead of us suddenly lurched backwards, nearly colliding with the two of us. Emily took a quick hop back, and I put a hand out to steady her. To my dismay, as soon as we touched, I realized that the blood had again rushed to my penis, and when I felt the soft pillows of her ass brush over my crotch, I immediately had a full blown, very embarrassing erection.

This time I knew she noticed, as her eyes grew wide in surprise and I saw her quickly glance at me, but there was no outrage in her eyes, only faint amusement. Glancing around to see if anyone was watching, she took her hand and cupped it over my engorged penis, gently squeezing with her fingertips. The feeling was electric, and I involuntarily pushed back, enjoying the illicit contact.

Sliding my hand down her back, I eventually let it rest on her hip, sliding up and down as far as the first hint of the swell of her firm ass.

I was fascinated with her dress. At first it had appeared to be a simple gray linen material, but as my hand slowly moved over her hip and ass, I could feel it was much smoother, almost like silk. I also noticed the material had a subtle sheen to it, so while I was cupping her buttocks in my hand the color appeared to move from gray to silver to almost black. My heart was pounding and I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, but Emily didn't cry out, instead pushing herself closer to me, continuing to rub my still hard cock.

Soon enough, however, the line cleared and we quickly pulled our hands away. Before we grabbed plates to bring back to her family, she again looked back and quickly kissed me on the cheek.

"Thanks, John." She blushed slightly, as I looked down on the top of her head, not sure why she was thanking me. Assuming she was grateful for my help with the food, and that she simply didn't want to cause a scene about my erection, I answered slowly.

"Um... no problem... you're welcome."

As we walked back to her parents and brother, I heard my name called out and turned to see my parents walking up. I quickly introduced them to Emily, explained what we were doing with the plates, and found out that we were just about ready to go. I walked back with Emily and handed her mother the plate I'd been carrying. I quickly said my goodbyes to Kyle and his seemingly distracted parents, and went back to my mom and dad, and the three of us quickly headed off to our car.

As we were driving back through the parking lot, we happened to pass nearby where Emily and her family were standing. I again heard her father, and Kyle too, chastising her about something, the food no doubt. As she turned away from them, tears again filling her eyes, she saw me looking out of the back window of our car. I waved and gave her a smile. She gave me a small wave, blew a kiss my direction and turned back to her father.

That was the last I saw of Emily for seven years.

Like for many kids, high school was pretty much a blur. I remember the first day of school, finding out that Kyle's family had moved out of state a couple weeks after graduating middle school, and of course that meant that Emily was also gone. No one I knew was good enough friends to even know where they had moved, so Emily, at least for me, was gone forever.

I don't know what I was thinking would have happened, even if they'd stayed. Kyle and I were not that close as friends, and I don't know how long I would have lasted pretending to be buddies, if it was only to be around Emily. And because of our age difference, we wouldn't share a school building until my senior year. I'd be eighteen, and she would be fifteen. So I convinced myself it was for the best, although I never stopped thinking about her.

In addition to the first day of school, and the sadness at learning Emily had moved away, I also remember the last day. The excitement, the anxiety, and more than anything the elation. It was almost beyond my comprehension that I would no longer have to sit in a homeroom class, or be forced to attend study hall, or take all the stupid classes "they" thought I should take, in order to be a well-rounded individual.

In between though, it was a lot of late nights, studying just enough to get by with grades my family would accept, and good friends. Mostly good friends. I was not, and never have been a womanizer, and because of the sudden disappearance of Emily from my life, I believe I shied away from dating even more.

I had good female friends, and we would hang out, and on one memorable February in the middle of a snowstorm, I had my virginity willingly ripped away from me by a good friend. We were doing each other a favor, and it was most definitely nothing to write home about! But I had a good solid support system in place, and they were kind enough to mostly ignore me when I pined for the girl that got away, and gentle enough to not pressure me when I decided drugs and alcohol were not for me. I was young and carefree and one day in June, I became my own free self.

So what did I do, to show my newfound independence? What did I do, now that I was free of any education requirements? Absolutely correct... I went to college.

I didn't have much of an idea what I was going to do with my life, only that it would be noble and important, probably dangerous, and would undoubtedly lead me to fame and fortune, piles of money, respect and love. Obviously the hubris of the young.

But off to college I went. My nod to my parents' wishes was to attend a four-year school, instead of a 2-year technical or vocational institution. It would mean more money on tuition, but they were chipping in and they felt it important to receive a liberal arts education. Again with the well-rounded line of crap.

College also started out similar to high school. My first semester I met my best friend Caleb, and his girlfriend Mary. They were a sweet couple, and constantly badgered me, good-naturedly of course, about my seemingly celibate and woman-free lifestyle. I swore it was by choice, and for the most part it was, but in the back of my mind I was still nagged by the thought of fifteen minutes I'd spend with a pre-teen more than four years ago. I couldn't get Emily out of my head.

But I kept busy, involved in extra-curricular activities, which is where I met Stacey.

Stacey and I met our second semester in an introductory music class required of all liberal arts students. I'd had some music background before, but Stacey hadn't, and as luck would have it she needed tutoring, and I volunteered. We became good friends, and started dating later that spring. Nothing serious for either one of us. I refused to commit myself emotionally, and she claimed to have a high school boyfriend back home.

We were exclusive enough that it was comfortable for each of us. We were a ready companion, so neither of us felt any pressure to find a date for the big event, but we were always friends first, so there were no hard feelings if something didn't pan out.

We kept in contact during the summer, something I'd never done before, never having had any kind of pen pal through my growing up years. When our sophomore year started we picked up as we'd left off. Comfortable enough in our own skins to be there for each other, without being needy or pushy.

As Thanksgiving came around we found that we were very much in the minority on campus, most of the student population having gone home for the long weekend. I was in the middle of a falling-out with my parents and had no desire to live with them, even for a long weekend. I was tired of my mom telling me everything she thought I should be thankful for, while my dad sat and glared at me over his newspaper, so I stayed on campus.

Stacey would have loved to go home, but her on-campus job wasn't providing enough hours or money for much spare cash, and she was unable, and her family unwilling, to buy a plane ticket to the opposite coast, for a simple two day vacation.

So as it happened, the two of us, along with a couple athletes, had the entire dorm to ourselves. In a way it was nice. We enjoyed each other's company and for that I could truly give thanks.

On the big Thursday we tramped through the snow to the dining center, which was thankfully open over the holidays. While I'm not sure the original pilgrims ate a meal of turkey loaf, mashed potato flakes and processed cranberry sauce, the meal was a passable facsimile of what I'd grown up eating on Thanksgiving, so I was happy.

After stuffing ourselves, Stacey and I planted ourselves on the couch in my suite. As is now customary, Thanksgiving marks the official first day of Christmas season, so there was plenty of holiday entertainment to watch. "Miracle on 34th Street" was first, and then "It's a Wonderful Life."

As soon as the film started, I began thinking of Emily. In the movie, as everyone knows, James Stewart plays a man who falls for Donna Reed, a girl barely a woman when George Bailey is home from college. I thought of where Emily might be now, and how old she'd be (I was 20 so she would be 16 or 17), and then immediately got mad for not letting her go.

Stacey must have felt my mood shift, and commented on it.

"Are you okay John? You seem a bit out of sorts."

"I'm fine, it's just sometimes the holiday... you know." Not my best lie, but hopefully effective.

"Yeah, me too. I hate being alone, but this year we have each other, right?" She smiled hopefully at me.

"Yep, that's right," I agreed. I smiled back and she slid down the couch beside me and buried her head in the crook of my arm, which had been thrown up over the back of the sofa. Seeking to comfort her I brought it down around her shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze.

As we watched the rest of the movie, and as George's angel finally got his wings, I realized that her hand, which had squeezed mine, was still in my lap and was moving in lazy circles on my upper thigh. I also noticed for the first time that as she burrowed into me for warmth, Stacey was thrusting her tits into my chest, and thru our thin t-shirts, I could feel the nipples quite clearly and wondered if indeed she was wearing a bra.

The moment I thought this my cock sprung to action, and it wasn't long before Stacey noticed. With her proximity as a start, and since we'd both changed into sweat pants and t-shirts after lunch, there was little I could do to hide my arousal from her.

"Mmmm... someone's a bad boy. Aren't you?" She giggled at my discomfort, but I knew she was playing.

"Guilty as charged, ma'am. I do apologize if I have offended," I offered my most humble apology, all the while grinning and blushing madly.

"There's no reason to be sorry, John. I like it." With that her hand, already dangerously close to brushing against my balls as she drew her lazy circles in my lap, slowly rubbed my hard member. Without conscious thought I pushed my cock upward, pressing it more fully into her hand, which she closed gently as she started a slow up and down motion. "No reason to apologize at all. I think I may be a bad girl before this is over."

Feeling a bit uncomfortable, as the two of us had never behaved this way before, I took my arm from around her shoulder and pulled her chin towards me, so we were looking at each other. Seeing only a deep longing in her eyes, one which I'm sure mirrored my own, we silently nodded and leaned in close.

We made love together for the first time on the couch, and it was as if I was sitting above, watching us as we kissed and touched and moaned our desires.

Like every first kiss in my life it is always a brilliant surprise when my lips touch another's. This was no different. Even before the kiss my lips began to tingle and I could feel them swelling a bit, as blood rushed where it is needed. I felt Stacey's breath on my face as we neared each other, each exhalation prodded me on as my own pulse quickened. Finally we touched and there was the familiar charge of electricity, made even more arousing, as her hand was still stroking my erection.

We kiss deeply, tongues touching and playing, until we have to breathe. When we break the kiss, our breathing is rapid and ragged. I can still feel her hand on my cock and the other on the back of my head, drawing me in for another kiss, but I need to explore. With one hand I gently pull her t-shirt from the elastic band of her sweats and pull it tight. I can easily see the outline of her nipples, still unsure whether they're contained in a bra, but when she leans in again for a second kiss, I feel them push against my chest, the little pebbles burning hot, even through our clothing.

Finally I reach under her shirt and my hand begins its slow journey up her body. I begin by splaying my fingers out and gently caressing the skin between her sweat pants and her belly button. I can feel silky soft hair, and as I tease it can feel her abdomen twitch in response.

I lean down to kiss her breasts through the shirt as my hand gently pushes up the front of her body. I move until I feel the back of my hand lightly brushing against the bottoms of her breasts, and begin sliding against the tender flesh. She is wearing a bra, but it feels smooth and soft, like her skin, and is hardly constraining her.

"Ohh," she moans into my neck, "keep touching me like that. It's been so long, and you're so gentle."

Feeling my passion peak, I suddenly pull my hand from under her shirt, ignoring her whimper of disappointment, and reach both hands around her back. Grabbing at the sway of her hips, I pull her on top of me, her legs straddling mine, and I find that her tits are now easily accessible to me.

Still waiting her to stop, I look once more into her eyes. "Is this what you want?" I ask.

"Oh God, yes,"

With that I slowly start pulling her shirt over her head. Realizing she will need to relinquish her grip on my cock, she releases it and pulls my own shirt off as well. I see her bra now, and as I draw her close for another kiss, I toy with the thin straps, running my fingers under and around, but never quite touching what she wants touched. Finally I give in and pull the straps off her shoulders, baring the smooth skin underneath, and touch my tongue and lips to her shoulder. Her skin is hot to the touch, and I can see the moisture left behind from my kisses quickly evaporate.

She is more incessant now, rubbing my cock more quickly, and I worry about lasting, so I gently pull her hands away and put them around my neck. Leaning towards her, I lower my head and make love to her tits. First with my hands and then alternating between the two, teasing and nipping at her nipples until both pink buds stand tall, engorged with blood and more sensitive to my touch. Finally, groaning with the sensations, she pushes me away and stands up, quickly pulling off her sweats and panties.

I can see she is already moist, and the hair around her pussy is beginning to mat from her secretions. I realize I can smell her, more clearly than I've ever smelled a pussy before. Tart, earthy, the scent goes to my head and I lean down to swipe her slit with my tongue, dragging up as much of her slick lubricant as I am able. She shudders with the contact and quickly kneels to help me remove my sweats and shorts. In the position she's occupying, when my shorts finally clear my erection, my cock bounces once or twice, nearly hitting her cheek. I try not laugh at her surprise, but she sees the look on my face and giggles anyway.

We look at each other, naked and exposed. The desire must be painfully evident on our faces.

"You're beautiful."

"So are you."

Sitting back on the couch, I position myself near the edge and lean far back. She carefully sits down on me, trapping my cock between our bodies, and we lean in for another kiss, grinding our bodies together, enjoying the hot feeling of her skin touching mine. My hands, which until now had concentrated on her breasts, slid around back and down to her ass, each hand grabbing hold of one wonderfully soft cheek. As we continue to push against each other, I can feel our bodies begin to grab hold of a rhythm, as we mimic the act without being joined.

Bringing one hand from her ass to her front, I began playing with her slit, gathering moisture from the bottom of her pussy from behind and passing it up to the front thru her legs to my waiting hand. I slowly drop my hand through the crevice between her cheeks, gently dragging a fingernail over the pucker of her ass.

She gasps at this, but only thrusts harder at my hand, causing my finger to go partially inside her tight hole, causing her to shudder in pleasure.

"Oh God, that feels so good. Keep touching me. Keep touching me." I continue pleasuring her hot pussy, dragging her own moisture through the labia and coating her clit with her juices. She is beginning to lose herself to the pleasure now, and her movements and breath become less controlled and more ragged.

Knowing she is close, I grab her by the hips and lift her up. It's obvious she is ready for me, so with a nod from her, I position the distended lips of her cunt over the dripping head of my cock and let her guide herself down.

Mewling with contentment, she begins riding my cock, up and down in my lap. I continue to hold her by the hips, tweaking her nipples as they range into my view. I can feel her thrusts getting more and more anxious and know she is close. Suddenly she grabs hard around my neck and pulls me close. I first feel a rush of new juices coating my cock and balls, and then the inside of her cunt flutters against my shaft, nearly bringing me to my plateau. As she comes down, limp in my arms, I lower us to the couch, and we lie together, face to face, her legs intertwined with mine.

Giving her time to relax, I wipe her damp forehead. "Stacy, I need to turn you around now." Not waiting for a response, I pivot her in place, the cheeks of her ass now fully encasing and caressing my cock, still wet with her juices. Lifting her right leg, I reach for the point of our joining, and slip back inside.

I take my time now, slowly sliding in and out, enjoying the sensation of softly pushing against Emily's soft ass cheeks, and I look over her shoulder and watch as, with each thrust, her breasts quiver from the movement, and her mouth opens slightly. I can hear a low moaning coming from each time I withdraw my cock, and small sound of contentment every time I fill her up again. We go on like this, slow but insistent.

Feeling my own imminent release, I pick up the pace on my thrusting. I can feel her arousal growing around me, and as I draw close, I reach around and grab a breast with each hand, feeling her hot nipples in the palm of my hand. I thrust again and again, and finally all my nerves, my entire being is focused in the seven inches inside her hot pussy, and suddenly I am gone. I spurt rope after rope of sticky semen inside her and slowly the pressure drops and my explosion slows and dies.

I stay hard in her as long as I am able, and she works in inner muscles to keep me aroused, but finally I grow limp enough that I pop out of her warm sheath. Quickly, before we stain the couch, I grab my t-shirt and put it between our bodies to catch and wipe off our combined juices.

We shift around to get more comfortable, me on my back and Stacey leaning against me, one beautiful leg thrown up over mine, so I can still feel the furry hairs on her mound brushing against my leg. I gently caress her back and bottom as we slowly drift away towards sleep.

The next morning was uncomfortable, to say the least. I awoke to the unfamiliar feel of another person sharing my bed, and slowly the afternoon came back to me. I smiled at the memory.

"What?" a voice beside me asked. I started, and quickly looked at Stacey. She was awake and had propped herself up on one elbow. The sheet had slipped down her torso, exposing her breasts. I reached out and slowly filled my hand with her pliable flesh, enjoying the heat and feel of her.

"I was just thinking that I hope this wasn't a big mistake. I enjoyed it too much for it to be wrong."

"Mmmm... no mistake here. Keep touching me like that." She took her free hand and threw off the rest of the bedding, revealing our nudity. Kissing the tips of her breasts, I slowly worked my way down her body, tonguing her belly button and drawing a throaty laugh from her. Nearing her sparse bush, I pushed my chin town hard into the top of her mound, drawing a sharp breath from her as she began heating up, and lightly kissed the pale skin of her abdomen. I continued my journey south.

"No. Stop. We need to talk." I looked at her in mild surprise. It wasn't totally unexpected, though. I knew there were many things we would have to discuss at some point. I was just surprised it was while I was eating her out.

"Please... stop now before I... oh God. Stop. Stop!"

I stopped licking her clit long enough to pout at her, before getting off the bed and offering a hand to help her up.

Still naked, she sat on the edge of the bed, trying to look prim and proper, and for the most part succeeding. She sighed and looked up at me.

"What happened last night?" I must have had an odd look on my face, as she continued. "No, don't get me wrong, I loved it. It was wonderful, but where do we go from here? Are we friends anymore? More than friends?"

I knew exactly how she felt.

"I know. It was unbelievable. No one has made me feel like that since... since a long time ago. But you're right, if last night ends up coming between us, I'd regret it. I love you as a friend, and don't want that to change."

"Can we be more?" She looked scared now, more a little girl than the woman I knew her to be. "I've always felt like we belonged together, and last night... wow."

I nodded, I felt the same way. She brightened immediately and hopped over to where I had propped myself up in the doorway. She leaned in for a good morning kiss. Our tongues again played together while my hands grabbed her ass, squeezing the meaty flesh, before she put a hand on my chest and pushed herself away, grinning.

"Nope, none of that this morning. You need to ask me out on a proper date first! What kind of girl do you think I am, anyway?" She laughed at the expression of disbelief on my face.

"Besides, I really need a shower."

During the next days and weeks and months, Stacey and I saw more of each other. Intellectually, I realized it was silly to hold a place for a girl I'd known, years before, for half an hour, but it still felt strange to me, as Emily, or at least my idealized memory of her, was very important to me.