Chapter 1

I'm a good man ... I swear that I am! At least all of my life, I have desperately tried to be.

Despite a somewhat wild and unruly childhood and adolescence, in college I actually grew up and matured into a good, responsible adult. Though in no way was I ever religious, in my own humble opinion I always had a strong personal moral compass and a rather honorable, upright character. With the years, I became a loving family man, a faithful husband and supportive father, a loyal, hard-working employee, and an all around boring, law-abiding citizen.

And I was completely, one-hundred percent OK with that. But then one fateful day, I knew real temptation...

God in heaven was it sweet.

I didn't give in though. No sir, I stayed strong.

Well ... at least I did at first.

The thoughts and images running through my mind were pervasive, always there, calling out to me, enticing me away from what I knew to be right, steadily weakening my resolve over several days, weeks and months. The lustful and carnal feelings and impulses they awakened in me were like nothing I had ever experienced before or since.

I see it now that it was inevitable that I would eventually give in.

I'd love to say that it wasn't my fault, maybe even that "the Devil made me do it", but that would just be a copout. Sure, I was tempted, but I ultimately made a choice. I don't consider myself particularly weak willed or evil – I honestly believe that any other red-blooded, straight male would have also succumbed. I make no apologies for myself, nor do I ask for anyone's forgiveness.

If I am destined for hell and damnation, at least I have the comfort of knowing that it was damn worth it.

It all started just outside my apartment, very late one Friday night.

That wasn't all that unusual. I normally stayed at work after hours at the end of the week in order to go over my department's accounting and paperwork, making sure all of the i's are dotted and t's are crossed. The couple of people I wrangled into assisting me every week were never quite thrilled about the chore, even if they did receive overtime for the extra work. They couldn't help but admit though that things tended to move much more smoothly thanks to those few additional hours.

My wife Tracey, on the other hand, was very understanding and supportive about my working the occasional late night. I always made sure to make it up to her later on by not complaining whenever she decided to go out on one of her girls' nights, inevitably coming back home supported by a couple of friends, more than a little bit drunk.

So, there I was, casually walking down the hallway of my apartment building. I had just loosened the much hated tie around my neck and my mind (as well as my stomach) was focused almost solely on sating the hunger growling deep in my belly. Though I knew that the family was all snug and asleep in bed by then, there would undoubtedly be a full plate of tasty, home cooked, if only lukewarm, dinner waiting for me in the oven.

I was just about to reach the door to my apartment, one hand fumbling in a pocket, searching for my keys, while the other was busy with my briefcase, when the noise of a door's lock startled me.

Glancing to the side I noticed a door across the hall opening very slowly and completely without a sound. It was the Johnson's apartment, my neighbors. I stopped, curious to see who was up and about at this time of night. A knee-jerk decision I almost immediately regretted making.

For a split-second, I gauged the distance to the door of my own apartment and wondered if I could make it safely inside before being spotted.

Don't get me wrong, I liked the Johnsons just fine and I considered them family friends. Maybe not "close, personal friends" though, the type that you invite over for parties, or even the occasional weekend away, but at least "neighborhood friends", people you shoot the shit with as you pass each other on the way to some other (more important or interesting) place.

It's just that it was pretty fuckin' late (well past midnight), and I was damn hungry and tired, with very little patience to spare to deal with them. Also, for them to wait for me to come home, you could just bet your sweet ass that it was for some sort of favor. Maybe Joe wanted me to lend him a hand with some sort of home repair project yet again, or perhaps Susan, his wife, wanted to complain about the noisy young couple on the floor above us, trying to get me to go along with "doing something about it".

To my surprise, instead of Joe or Susan, a petite and lithe looking young woman exited the Johnson's apartment, moving carefully and silently backwards out the door. And to my never-ending delight, she was a very good looking, scantily clad young woman.

I couldn't help the quite pleasant and unexpected stirring in my pants.

She was wearing a matching set of faded yellow boyshorts and crop tank top, both prominently featuring the children's cartoon character SpongeBob SquarePants. It looked as if the outfit was at least a few years old, now being way too small and tight to be really considered appropriate attire for going out in public. The fabric was worn and molded perfectly to every curve of her body, leaving it clear to see that there was no way that she could have been wearing a bra or panties underneath. She damn well could have been naked.

I certainly wasn't about to complain about it though.

Her long, straight hair – I couldn't tell if it was dark blond or light brown - was currently held up in twin, loose ponytails. My eyes longingly traveled downwards, taking in her slightly curved, but tight and toned figure. Reaching her long legs I noticed a pair of white knee socks and fluffy bunny slippers on her feet.

Strangely, she also seemed to be carrying two large, full black plastic trash bags.

'Damn lucky bastard, ' I thought, cursing the Johnson's seventeen year old son. I guessed that the young woman was one of Dan's new girlfriends sneaking out after a late-night rendezvous.

Now that I had a daughter of my own, soon to be entering high school, I hated teenage guys like him with a raw burning passion. Which, in a certain point-of-view was pretty damn funny and ironic, seeing as I used to be just like him - a popular, good-looking jock, with no problems whatsoever at getting a date and later getting her to do whatever I wanted.

The Johnson boy was a basketball player, the pride and joy of his parents and his school. I'm not sure if he was any good, seeing as I've never actually seen any of his games, but he certainly was very popular. The fact that he was handsome and charming (though not that bright, in my honest opinion) didn't hurt his popularity any. Even though I seldom saw him, I vividly remembered every single time that I did, seeing as he always seemed to be in the company of some new, sexy and obviously very affectionate girlfriend.

This was the first one that actually seemed to live in the apartment complex though. I wondered who she was and what the deal with the trash bags was.

After very carefully shutting the door behind her, the girl hefted the fairly large garbage bags and turned around. Finally, I got to see exactly who this sexy young thing was.

"Aaahhhhh!" Cindy, the Johnson's oldest daughter, gave out a short, high pitched cry of alarm and dropped the bags right back to the floor as she finally noticed me.

But ... it couldn't have been her. She was just, what? Around thirteen years old, the same age as my own daughter Casey.

I was stunned and felt more than a little bit guilty.

Gone was the thin prepubescent body I vaguely remembered. She'd gained a couple of inches in height, making her on the tall side for her age, but I still towered over her. Her legs were no longer knobby toothpicks, but shapely calves leading up to long, smooth, muscular thighs. Her boyish hips had spread and rounded out nicely, along with a perfect firm heart-shaped ass. Her smooth stomach showed a hint of muscular abs, and her flat chest had sprouted a tempting pair of breasts. Not very big ones, true. They might have been a small B cup, at best, but they were very clearly perky and completely unfettered. Even her face had changed, having lost some baby fat.

No, this was no little girl. This was a nubile teenager ... an incredibly cute and sexy young woman.

When the hell had this happened?

Oh, I know that it hadn't happened overnight, at least intellectually. I guess that I never really paid that much attention to Cindy before.

She and my daughter were friendly and occasionally got together to talk, or whatever else teenage girls do together behind the closed doors of their rooms. But apparently they had different cliques at school and weren't that close. They each had their own separate cliques and groups of friends. While Casey and most of her friends had always been the quintessential girly-princess types, Cindy was going through a tomboy phase for the last couple of years, seeming to prefer dressing in baggy jeans, shirts and sweaters.

Perhaps she had been simply trying to hide her budding and maturing body from the people around her?

'And what a budding body... '

The guilt that had flared within me just a second ago, was promptly squashed and swept away by an avalanche of by pure, unadulterated arousal. I reveled in the feeling of my cock shifting, slowly hardening down my pant leg.

"Oh ... hi Mister Craft." Cindy eventually said with a shy smile on her face after recuperating somewhat from the unexpected surprise. Her soft, sweet voice was still noticeably shaken.

"Hello Cindy." I said, sounding much calmer and composed than I actually felt. "Just what are you doing out and about this lovely evening?"

As I spoke, my eyes were glued to her, slowly traveling up and down her entire body. I was doing my level best to burn every single enticing curve into my brain. I didn't really care what her answer was – I just wanted to prolong this encounter for as long as I possibly could. In a strange moment of clarity, I knew that I would use this memory as a masturbatory aid for years to come.

"Well ... ummm ... you see..." She hemmed and hawed for a while, glancing nervously back at the closed door to her apartment a couple of times. Eventually, she simply sighed and let her shoulders slump.

"This morning, before leaving for school, momma told me that I was supposed to take out the trash before dinner, but-"

"You forgot and now are trying to take care of it before your parents notice tomorrow morning." I finished knowingly. I did have a girl her age, after all. Her mildly abashed expression, with a half smile confirmed it.

She had probably been planning on quite simply slipping out of the apartment while her family was all asleep in bed, heading towards the garbage chute down at the far end of the hallway, and then slipping back home and into her room before anyone could have possibly noticed her absence, or the fact that she had forgotten to do her chore. And why should she have bothered getting dressed just for that? At this time of night, she certainly couldn't have thought that she would cross paths with anyone out in the hallway.

Lucky, lucky me!

The girl was clearly uncomfortable. I'm certain that the mere fact that it was me that had caught her made things even worse. You see, I'm a big guy - big and broad shouldered – taller than most adults, not to mention kids. I know that it gave me a naturally intimidating air, which I admit to having served me well from time to time.

But not only had she been caught, she had just realized how scantily clad she was. She couldn't keep her eyes fixed on me for long, there was a slight flush of embarrassment on her cheeks and her hands kept fidgeting, tugging on her shorts and top, desperately wanting to cover up. That really didn't help - all it did do was pull her clothing even tighter against her and slightly shift what particular slice of skin was exposed to my appreciative gaze.

I know that I should have saved her from that discomfiture. I could have simply said goodnight and let her go about her business, while I went home, had dinner, and then went to bed. If someone else had been there with us, or if I had been anywhere in my right mind, I certainly would have done that.

OK, OK, I would have had to stop by the bathroom to jack off, while thinking about her, before I could get to sleep.

But I didn't. I just ... couldn't look away, let alone leave.

Not yet anyways.

This young girl was just so fucking adorable and enticing. I hadn't felt this turned on in ... damn, probably a couple of years.

A part of me definitely knew that it was wrong to stare at her like I was a starving man and she was a piece of prime rib, and I was horribly troubled at my body's reactions.