Part 1

Chapter 1: The Beginning

On February 17, 1970, Catherine Butterfield, with her mother Jean at her side, gave birth to a healthy baby boy. There was no birth announcement in the Lexington newspaper and there was no celebration when Catherine and her baby came home from the hospital. Catherine, better know as Kate by her family, had been in a car accident when she was fifteen years old and had suffered a head injury that left her with some minor physical impairments and some not so minor mental problems. Basically, Kate was left with the mental maturity of a ten year old and was never able to progress beyond that. Kate was able to keep up in school but she just wasn't very wise in the ways of the world and when she was seventeen years old one of her classmates took advantage of her and got her pregnant. It was at the end of the school year and the boy that had impregnated Kate had joined the Army and was gone before anyone knew that she was pregnant.

My name is Warren Butterfield and I am Kate Butterfield's son. I was named after my grandfather who had died in the car accident that had caused my mother's injuries. Kate was not capable of being a mother so my grandmother had to take care of both of us. For Grandma Jean it was like having two young kids in the house. I loved Kate but she was more like a sister to me than a mother.

When I was in the fifth grade some of the kids at my school found out about my mother and began to tease me about her.

"Was that your baby sister I saw you with last night? Oh, no. That was your mother, wasn't it?"

I heard something like that almost every day, along with many other stupid comments. I tried to act like it didn't bother me but it did.

Bill McCarty and Craig Mason were in my class at the time and they lived in my neighborhood but I didn't know them very well. Bill was the biggest kid in my class and Craig wasn't much smaller. I was a big kid too but I was a little intimidated by them so I avoided them as much as possible. On my way home from school one afternoon I saw Bill and Craig standing in front of Grandma Jean's house talking to Kate but they left before I reached them. When I asked Kate what they wanted she told me that they were her friends but I didn't trust them. I figured they were making fun of Kate and she just didn't realize it. The next day at school I confronted Bill and Craig. I was really hoping that I wouldn't have to fight Bill because I knew he would kick my ass but I would stand up to him if I had to.

"Stay away from Kate," I said.

"What if I don't, what will you do about it?" Bill McCarty asked.

"Whatever I have to," I said.

Bill just smiled and said, "Don't worry, we're not hurting your mother. She's kinda cool."

"What do you mean by that?" I said.

"She's what? Twenty-eight years old but she acts like one of us. That's cool." Bill said.

"We aren't making fun of her, if that's what you're worried about." Craig said.

"You better not be," I said.

"We better get out of here before he kicks our ass," Bill said and the two of them walked off and left me standing there with my heart pounding so hard that I could feel it in my throat.

A few days after my confrontation with Bill and Craig I finally lost my temper when three other boys from my class started calling me, "the bastard child of a retarded whore."

I lit into them and was able to land several punches before I found myself on the ground with all three boys punching and kicking me. I had curled up into the fetal position to protect myself as best I could when suddenly the attack stopped. When I looked up I saw Bill McCarty and Craig Mason slapping two of my tormentors around and the third was running down the street as fast as he could. When Bill and Craig let the other two go, they were both crying as they ran away.

Bill extended his hand and helped me up and said, "Nice try but maybe you should have tried fighting them one at a time."

I was grateful for their assistance but when I asked them why they came to my aid Craig said, "How would it look if we let those punks beat up a kid from the neighborhood?"

That was the last that was ever said about it except for when Bill or Craig occasionally teased me about my strange fighting style of falling to the ground and rolling into a ball. They never once acted like I owed them anything for their assistance and from that day on the three of us were inseparable

Every night after school and on the weekends we would get together at one of our houses to play. Bill and Craig both had very nice parents, who accepted me as if I was a member of their families. My Grandma Jean treated my friends as their parents treated me, so we all felt welcome in whichever house we happened to find ourselves.

Often on Saturday afternoons in the summer Bill's father would play baseball with us. One day he was hitting fly balls to us and I made a pretty nice diving catch. Bill's father yelled "Nice catch, Butter," and from that moment on my nickname was Butter. Soon after that Craig's nickname became Mace and Bill's became Buck. Those names have stayed with us all these years.

When I was seventeen Grandma Jean's health began to fail and she was having a difficult time taking care of Kate who had developed some slightly more severe mental problems. I wanted to help more but Grandma Jean insisted that I concentrate on my schoolwork so that I would be able to go to college. In the end we had to have Kate institutionalized. It broke Grandma Jean's heart to have to send her daughter away but she just couldn't take care of her anymore.

I didn't know how to feel about my mother being sent away like that. I was relieved that I didn't have to worry about her anymore but I felt guilty at the same time. I hated the idea of visiting her at that mental hospital but I forced myself to go and I always felt better afterward. Kate was perfectly happy with her new surroundings. The drug therapy they were using on Kate had relieved the anxiety that had been the cause of her recent problems. Seeing that Kate was well taken care of and seemed to be happy relieved my guilt and I was sure it eased Grandma Jean's mind.

I tried to visit Kate at least once a week at 'The Home, ' as most people referred to the mental hospital, and often either Buck or Mace or both would go with me. Kate thought of Mace and Buck as her friends so their visits always made her happy.

In May of 1988 Buck, Mace and I graduated from high school. We had talked a lot during our senior year about what we wanted to do but I was the only one of the three of us that had a definite plan. I was going to attend the University of Kentucky to study Marketing. The only thing I knew for sure was that Buck and Mace were not planning on going to college.

On graduation night the three of us were at an all night party at the Radisson Hotel with several other friends. We were drinking beer and having a pretty good time when Buck suddenly became serious.

"Guys, I have decided what I am going to do now that I am out of school."

"I know, drive a truck for the sanitation department," Mace said.

"Come on, I'm serious. I am going to join the army," Buck said.

Mace and I were stunned. Buck had never mentioned joining the army before. "Are you shitting me?" Mace said.

"No. I have been thinking about this for more than a year but I never wanted to tell you guys because I knew that you would try to talk me out of it," Buck said.

"Of course we would, you asshole," I said. "You can't run off and join the army. You belong here with us."

"Yeah, right," Buck said. "You're going to college and who the hell knows what Mace is planning. School's out and it's time for us to become men. Besides, I already signed up. I leave for basic training in two weeks."

We were all quiet for a few minutes.

"Listen, you jerk," I said. "If you go off and get yourself killed in some far off place, I'll come over there and kick your ass."

"How you going to kick my ass when you are rolling around on the ground like a big ball?" Buck replied.

We all laughed at that memory.

"All right, so our man is going off to join the army," Mace said as he stood up and climbed onto the bed. "Could I have everyone's attention," Mace shouted.

The rest of the partiers in the room turned to see what Mace was shouting about. When everyone was looking at him he lifted his beer bottle into the air.

"A toast," he said. "Our good friend Buck is going off to join the army. Let's all wish him well and ask that he return to us with lots of medals and no battle scars. Buck, keep your head down low and your ass lower and come back to us in one piece."

Everyone drank to Buck and then went back to their previous conversations.

"Okay, Mace," Buck said. "It's your turn. What are your plans?"

"Long term? I don't know. For now I am going to work for my uncle," Mace said.

Mace's uncle owned a small but growing trucking company and had offered Mace a job in their dispatch office up in Covington. To Mace it was just a job so he wasn't very excited about it.

"Maybe in a couple of years I'll go to Lexington Community College but for now I'll just work for my uncle.

That June, Buck left for the army and Mace moved to his uncle's house in Covington and started working at Bluegrass Transport. I ended up getting a job waiting tables at Applebee's working six to closing. It felt strange not having the guys to hang out with on those long summer days and nights.

When classes started that fall I quickly got into a routine. I attended classes during the day and studied at night except when I was working at Applebee's on Wednesday, Friday and Saturday nights. On Saturday afternoons I visited Kate at the home but in spite of my busy schedule I managed to keep up with my schoolwork and get good grades.

In the fall of 1990, just after I started my junior year at UK, Grandma Jean died of cancer. The cancer had been discovered when I was a senior in high school and she had fought for her life for nearly three years. Living at home, I helped Grandma Jean around the house as much as I could. The hardest part for me was trying to explain to Kate why her mother was no longer able to visit her. I got Kate out of the home and took her to the funeral. She cried the whole time.

After Grandma Jean's death my time was taken up by my schoolwork, my job and my visits with Kate. The doctors at the home told me that Kate was stable now and that she could leave the institution if there was someone to take care of her. As often as I could I would take Kate out to a movie, for a picnic or for dinner at Applebee's but I wasn't in a position to take the responsibility to care for her full time. Grandma Jean had left me the house and enough money to cover the cost of Kate's care for as long as she needed it. I felt bad about leaving Kate in the home but she seemed to be happy there so that relieved some of my guilt.

Chapter 2: Megan Forester

It was on my twenty-first birthday that I ran across Megan Forester and I mean that literally. It was February 17 and we had one of those rare Lexington snowstorms over night. The storm had left only three or four inches of snow on the ground but it made everything slippery. I was running across campus trying not to be late for my nine o'clock class when suddenly there was someone wrapped in a big brown coat right in front of me. I tried to slow down and change directions but I lost my footing and took both of us down.

It wasn't bad enough that I had knocked someone down but when she turned to look at the idiot that had knocked her off her feet all I could see were her beautiful, big blue eyes. It was obvious that she was in some pain but didn't want anyone to notice.

"I ... I am so sorry," I said. "My feet slipped out from under me on the ice and ... I really am sorry."

Luckily, when I slid into her she fell on top of me. This kept her from getting hurt badly but now I had to get her off me before I could get up and I didn't dare move her until I was sure she wasn't injured by the fall.

"Are you all right?" I asked. "Can you stand up?"

She seemed to be stunned by the shock of the sudden impact. After a minute I was able to get out from under her and stand and then I helped her to her feet. I tried to apologize again but she just turned and walked away.

I felt really bad for the rest of the morning. I wanted to find her and apologize again but I didn't know who she was and I didn't get a good enough look at her face to be able to recognize her if I saw her again. All I could remember were those big blue eyes.

Later that day I was sitting in the student union having a cup of coffee. I had only been there about fifteen minutes when a group of girls sat down behind me.

"He just knocked you down?" I heard one of them say.

"Yes."

"Do you think he did it on purpose?" It was the first voice again.

"I don't think ... No, I am sure he didn't do it on purpose. You should have seen his face. He was so embarrassed. He kept trying to apologize."

"What did you say to him?"

"I didn't say anything. When we fell I landed on top of him but I hit hard on my tailbone and it hurt quite a bit. I was afraid that I might cry and I didn't want to embarrass myself. I just walked away trying to act like I was okay."

"You should have told him what an asshole he was."

"Maybe."

"Well, when you see him again, make sure you tell him he is an asshole."

"I don't know who he is and I don't think I would recognize him if I ever saw him again."

I felt terrible knowing that she had been in that much pain. I thought, "at least she doesn't know who I am," but that didn't help my feelings of guilt.

I don't know what made me do it but I got up and walked around to where the girls were sitting. There were four of them in the group but I had no problem identifying the one I had run down that morning. She had dark brown hair and a very pretty face with the most beautiful blue eyes. The other three girls had brown eyes.

I stood directly in front of her and when she looked up at me I said, "My name is Warren Butterfield and I am the asshole that knocked you down this morning. Now that you are feeling a little better, perhaps you would like to tell me exactly what you think of me and my careless behavior."

Her face began to flush and then she laughed. "You heard us?" she said. "Well, if you heard us I guess I don't have to tell you what I think of you, do I?"

"No, I guess you don't," I said. "But if you would like to tell me off to my face I am at your disposal."

All four of them were laughing but I didn't know if they were laughing at me or with me.

"I would like to make this up to you if I could," I said. "Could I buy you dinner?"

I knew as soon as I said it how stupid I sounded.

"Is this how you go about getting dates. You knock girls over and then ask them to dinner?" She was smiling as she said this, which gave me hope.

"Not usually," I said, "but in your case I am making an exception."

Her smile got bigger. "I am Megan Forester, your victim for the day."

"Well, Megan, can I buy you dinner?"

"When?"

"When ever you like," I said. "How about tonight?"

Megan looked at her friends who were all laughing and said, "Okay. Tonight."

I took Megan to Applebee's of course. I got an employee discount there. When I told Megan that it was my birthday she kissed me on the cheek and said, "Happy birthday, but don't expect a present later."

During dinner I found out that Megan was from Frankfort, Kentucky and she was studying to become a nurse. I told her about my mother and what I was studying and by the time we were finished eating Megan and I had become very comfortable with each other. After dinner I took Megan back to her apartment and asked her for a second date. She said yes.

At one point during our second date I mentioned to Megan that I knew how to cook. I told her that when Grandma Jean got very sick toward the end I did all of the cooking. I could roast a chicken; broil a steak, steam fish and many other meals. From the expression on her face I wasn't sure if Megan was impressed or skeptical.

Apparently she was skeptical. When I asked her what she wanted to do on our third date she said, "I want to come over to your house and watch you cook dinner."

For our third date I made baked salmon with green beans and almonds and scallop potatoes. To say that Megan was impressed would be an understatement.

"If I hadn't seen you do this with my own eyes I would never have believed it," she said. "I have never met a guy that could cook, let alone prepare a meal like this. You are definitely a keeper."

After dinner I poured us each a glass of wine and we sat on the sofa. As we sipped our wine I looked into Megan's eyes and saw something unexpected. It seemed to me that her eyes were telling me that she wanted me. I already knew that I wanted her. I took the wine glass from Megan's hand and set it aside. Then I took Megan in my arms and kissed her. Having sex with Megan on our third date was something that I was not expecting. I had gotten as far as feeling her breasts on our second date but that was with her clothes on. Just the thought of what we were about to do was getting me so hard it was making me uncomfortable.

We kissed and fondled each other as I began to slowly remove her blouse. When I had her blouse opened and her bra unhooked I looked at her naked breasts for the first time. They weren't large, maybe the size of a large apple but they were beautifully shaped with big hard nipples. I put my hand on her breast and Megan took a deep breath and closed her eyes as I bent down to take her right nipple in my mouth.

While I sucked and teased her nipple with my mouth and tongue Megan made little sounds of pleasure as she lay against the back of the sofa with her eyes still closed. After I paid homage to both of her breasts for several minutes, Megan pulled me up and kissed me.

"Can we go to your room?" she whispered.

I took her hand and led her into my bedroom where I quickly stripped down to my underwear. While I was undressing Megan had finished removing her blouse and bra. She had also taken off her skirt and was now standing in front of me in just a pair of white cotton panties. The panties weren't very sexy but Megan sure was.

Megan looked down at herself and laughed. "If I had known that I would be taking my clothes off in front of you tonight I would have worn some sexier panties."

"They look plenty sexy to me," I said.

"I can see that," Megan said as she looked at the tent in the front of my jockey shorts.

I pulled Megan to me and held her for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her breasts pressing against my chest.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" I asked.

"No ... Yes. I mean I am not sure if this is the right thing to do. I know I have very strong feelings for you but I barely know you. I am willing to take the risk here because I think you have strong feelings about me too," Megan replied.

"I do. I just don't want to rush you into anything that you will regret later."

"I don't think I will ever regret anything I do with you," Megan responded.

I guided Megan to the bed and she lay down and held her arms out to me in invitation for me to join her. I climbed onto the bed next to her and our kisses went to a whole new level of passion. It felt as though we were trying to become one person. While we kissed I slid my hand inside her panties and slipped a finger inside her. As I rubbed my finger on her clitoris Megan tried to stick her tongue down my throat.

When she broke off that kiss she whispered, "I think you better do it now before I explode."

I retrieved a condom from my bedside table and quickly slipped it on over my erect cock. Megan lifted her legs as I pulled her panties off then she spread them so that I could get between her thighs. I positioned the head of my cock at the opening between Megan's labia. Megan was tight and I proceeded slowly so that I wouldn't hurt her but when I was all of the way in, Megan bit my ear and whispered, "It feels wonderful."

Then she wrapped her arms around me and held me so tight that I couldn't move for a couple of minutes. When she relaxed her grip I began pumping my cock into her slowly and she started lifting her hips to meet each thrust. We soon had a rhythm going that allowed us to pick up the pace. Suddenly Megan dropped her hands to grab a hold of the sheets and then pushed her hips up into me as hard as she could.

She had her eyes closed tightly and licking her lips and quietly whispering, "Oh ... Oh ... Yes ... Oh."

When her orgasm passed, Megan put her arms around me again and pulled me down and mashed her mouth against mine. While our tongues wrestled with each other I picked up the pace and finally climaxed.

As I lay on top of her with my shrinking member still inside her, Megan began kissing me all over my face. "That was wonderful!" she said, nearly out of breath.

I pulled out of Megan and slipped off the bed to dispose of the used condom in the bathroom. When I got back into bed Megan began to play with my limp cock and asked, "Can we do that again?"

"In a few minutes," I said. "I need a little time to recover."

For the next several minutes we talked about what we had just done and then Megan asked, "Have you had a lot of girlfriends? I mean have you had sex with a lot of girls?"

"I have only dated two girls that I had sex with before this," I said. "And it has been a long time since the last time. What about you?"

"There was only one guy. I dated him for most of my freshman year. We broke up before the end of the spring semester. I think we only stayed together because we had both been virgins and the sex was something new and exciting," Megan said. "Tonight was much better for me than any time with him."

I was quiet for a minute while I digested what she had just said. Was she just trying to make me feel good or did she mean it?

"Warren, when you were with those other girls, did you always use a condom?"

"Yes. I didn't want to take any chances," I said.

"I always made my old boyfriend use a condom," Megan said.

Megan look at me and then down at my nearly fully recovered erection.

"Warren, I'm on the pill," she said. "This time I'd like to do it without the condom. I want to feel you cum inside me."

So we made love again, without a condom and it was even better than the first time.

By the end of the spring semester Megan and I were definitely in love. When we were together we couldn't keep our hands off each other and when we were apart we spent a lot of time talking on the phone. I started taking Megan with me when I visited Kate and the two of them hit it off. Megan became Kate's new best friend.

By exam time I was already thinking that Megan was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I wasn't sure if Megan felt the same way until a week after we finished exams and she invited me to come to Frankfort and spend the weekend at her parents' house.

I picked Megan up at four o'clock on Friday afternoon and we headed to Frankfort. The drive was less than thirty miles and I could feel the butterflies in my stomach getting more active the closer we got to her parents' house. I had never been this nervous about meeting the parents of a girl I was dating. Of course, before Megan I had never been this serious about a girl I was dating.

Megan had told me about her parents and there didn't seem to be any reason for me to be worried about meeting them but I was. Megan's mother was forty-two years old. She had been a schoolteacher but gave up teaching five years earlier when Megan's little brother Brandon was born. Her father was forty-three and he owned an appliance store in Frankfort.

The house was on the northwest side of Frankfort overlooking the Kentucky River. The house wasn't a mansion but it was pretty big. It was a large two-story brick home with a circular driveway in front and a three-car garage around to the left side of the house. As I pulled to a stop in front of the house I saw the view of the river beyond the house. I remember thinking at the time that the view of the river was beautiful and how nice it would be to have a house with that kind of view.

As Megan and I started to get out of the car the front door opened and a small red and blue rocket with a brush cut flew down the steps and into Megan's arms.

Megan scooped up the fast moving object and turned to me with a big smile on her face.

"I guess this must be Brandon," I said.

The small boy with the blue shorts and red tee shirt looked at me.

"How do you know my name?" he asked indignantly.

"Oh, I know all about you," I said. "Your name is Brandon, you are five years old and you like to collect Hot Wheels cars."

Brandon's brown eyes got real big and he looked at Megan.

"How does he know all that?"

"He is very smart, Brandon," Megan said as she put him down.

Brandon stared at me for a moment as if he was trying to make his mind up about something and then he came over to me.

"What's your name?"

"Warren."

"You want to see my Hot Wheels collection?"

"Sure. Right after I meet your parents, okay?"

"Great." Then like a flash Brandon was headed back into the house yelling, "They're here, they're here."

As Megan and I got to the front door Brandon was back with his mother. Megan's mother was built a lot like Megan. They were both tall, about five feet seven inches. They both had trim figures although Megan's mother had a little more meat on her bones than Megan. Both women had the same dark brown hair although Megan's mother had some gray showing. Other than age the biggest difference between the two women was the color of their eyes. While Megan's eyes were blue her mother's were green.

If you can judge a woman's future looks by her mother, Megan would be an attractive woman for a long time.

"Warren, this is my mother, Trish," Megan said. "Mom this is my boyfriend Warren.

Trish gave me a hug and began to pull me into the house as she talked to me.

"We have heard so much about you from Megan," she said. "It is great to finally meet you. Megan tells me you're from Lexington and you are going to be a senior at UK this fall..."

The conversation or rather Trisha's monologue went on like that for almost twenty minutes until Megan's father came home from work. As soon as he saw Megan his face lit up. Megan ran to him and they hugged each other. Megan's father lifted her off her feet and swung her around.

"How's my little angel?"

"I am great, dad."

Megan turned to me and signaled for me to come over.

"Dad, this is my boyfriend Warren. This is Harold, my dad."

Harold's handshake was firm and his welcome was sincere. Harold Forester was a big man: six feet two inches tall and about 205 pounds. His hair was brown but thinning on top. The most remarkable thing about him, as far as I was concerned, were his eyes. They were the same size, shape and color as Megan's.

I think Harold was just about to ask me something when Brandon took my hand.

"Come and see my cars. You said you wanted to see my cars as soon as you met my parents."

I felt like I had no choice.

Brandon had more than 100 cars and he seemed to have a story to go with each one. Megan finally came to rescue me and to say that dinner was ready.

It was funny. I felt very welcome in the home and the conversation at the dinner table was mostly directed at Megan and me but I sensed something odd even though I couldn't put my finger on it at the time.

After dinner, Trish put Megan to work in the kitchen and I followed Harold into his den. It had become obvious to me that Megan and her father had a very close relationship and his opinion of me was going to be important so I wanted to make sure I got on his good side.

"Mr. Forester..."

"Please call me Harold. We are not that formal in this house."

"Okay, Harold. I don't know if Megan told you but I am studying marketing," I said.

"She mentioned that."

"I was wondering if you would mind if I asked you some business related questions?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Megan told me that you own an appliance store. Now I don't mean to bring up a sour subject but I was hoping to get some first hand feedback on this. How much have the big new discount stores like Best Buy and Circuit City hurt your business?"

For the next hour Harold explained his business. He said that while it was hard to be price competitive with the big chains he was able to make up for that with his services. He said that he had a second business that helped offset his losses to the big chains. Harold said that he had a second hand appliance store.

He said, "People buying new appliances were often replacing products that still had a lot of life in them. We fix these up and resell them. It might surprise you to know that we make almost as much from our used appliance sales as we do from the new products."