Chapter 8

I was starting a new episode in life, unpaid intern in an architect's office. Mrs. B. was going to drive me to work every day, and I'd stay there until Mr. B. could pick me up. Officially, I was only going to have to work 20 hours. Unofficially, I was going to be there more like 25-30 hours, 'cause Mr. B. couldn't pick me up until he was done at the U.

On the rest of the weekdays, I decided to try and learn as much as possible about my finances. I called my dad's mentor, Alex Merriweather – now that he was my trustee – and see about getting my house paid off. I didn't see any reason why I should pay a mortgage company on the balance of my parents' old mortgage when I was rich. Well, not Bill Gates rich, but plenty rich enough. He called me back after his meeting. He congratulated me on getting my GED about four and a half years before I was due. I was ahead of other kids my age, that was a change. That gave me a nice feeling.

Imagine my surprise when I found out that dad and mom had something called mortgage insurance. The house was paid off. He pointed me at some websites, and said the U. had courses, so I could learn more about personal finances.

Two days later I called him and said I wanted to get a credit card. I wanted one that would pay me the highest cash back allowed, no fee, but the interest rate didn't matter. He asked me why not the air miles ones? I told him I could always use cash to pay for air miles but I couldn't use air miles to buy a car, and besides the air miles you could get were worth only about 0.8% instead of the 1%-3% you could get from cash back. Air miles, I thought were a rip off.

What was I going to use the card for? He didn't want me to spend a lot. I told him I'd need about a three grand limit. I was going to put utility bills on autopay with the credit card, and have the credit card autopaid from my checking account at the brokerage company. That way, not only would I get the cash rebate, I'd get to have the money that would go to the utilities for an extra month (getting more interest on my money), and I'd be building up my credit history.

He laughed. Then he said that he never thought of that, but it made sense. He also said he didn't think I needed any financial advisors. None of his financial advisors had ever thought of that.

I asked the B.'s for a meeting that night. I told them that I was going to pay their electric, water, and cable TV bills from then on. They said no, of course – I expected that. But I said that I had more than enough money, and I wanted to thank them for taking me in, and to put the money they'd save into Lu's college fund. I was also going to set things up to pay the utilities on my original house, of course.

Slowly, I started to spend more time at my old house. It was just across Fox Avenue, so getting there wasn't a problem. I started with the hardest: their bedroom. I eventually gave my parents' clothes to the local homeless shelters. Somewhere, there are people living on the streets wearing $2000 three-piece suits and fancy evening gowns. Or maybe the shelter sold 'em at their thrift stores and used the money instead. Whatever.

When the bedroom was cleared out, I made the bed with clean sheets, and then I laid down and cried. I was there for a long time. I woke up and found Mrs. B. stroking my hair.

I blinked at her and said, "Hi."

"Feeling a little better now?" she asked.

"Some. It just hit me when I was cleaning out the closets ... I found lots of old pictures. My grandparents, baby pictures of mom, dad's graduation from high school and college. I was sad. I found some love letters that dad wrote to mom when they were in college. They were all mushy, and I laughed."

"I'll bet," she said. "Those pictures are your connection to your family. You should start saving pictures that you think your grandkids will want to see." And she just held me for a long time.

Then we went back across the street to the B.'s house where we made chocolate chip cookies for after dinner. Tonight's dinner, meatloaf and salad, needed a little attention, so we did that. I took some pictures with my cell phone of us making cookies, of the dinner table, of all the B. family. I'd have to get them out of the phone and into the computer somehow.

Over the course of several weeks, Lu continued her little touches on me. It was strange, because that was the limit of what she did. I didn't expect that she'd do more, you know – like the girls who I'd had almost-sex with – although that sure would have been nice. I felt even more sure that I loved her in every way there was to love somebody, just from being around her. Maybe she loved me back and didn't know it yet. She still went out on Saturdays, and some Fridays, too. It wasn't with Anson, I think – which was good from my point of view – but some other guy. She came home pretty early from dates too, usually by 11 or 11:30. Best of all, her clothes weren't messed up.

Then one Saturday, when Mr. and Mrs. B. were out shopping together – they almost always went food shopping together on Saturdays together – Lu came into my room and had a strange look on her face. Like she had something to say and didn't know how to say it.

"Chris?"

"Yeah. Hi Lu."

"Uhm ... got a minute ... I want to ... I mean I have something to say to you." Well that was an interesting start.

I took off my headset and pushed a button so the website reader would stop. "Wassup?" She was wearing, what do you call it, like, a body suit. Tight pink leotards with no feet on her lower half, and a leotard top that almost met in the middle – same color – and it left a little strip of her belly exposed. And a droopy sweater with an extra wide neck, that hung off one shoulder. She was awful sexy, in a casual way.

"You know I stopped seeing Anson, right?"

"Yeah."

"And I've been going out with James ... James Wilbarton ... right?"

"No, I didn't know that. But okay. Is he an athlete or somethin'?" She always did the cheerleader thing and dated jocks – or rocks. LOL.

"Not really. Well, kinda. He's on the debate team ... But anyway, Anson and I were going at it pretty hot and heavy. You know?"

"No, I don't know." I didn't want to hear about my Lu doing anything with anybody. "I don't think I want to know."

"God. This is hard," she said almost to herself. "Okay. Well ... Anson was feeling me up almost every date. You know, on my boobs and stuff. And, well, on Valentines Day, he went down on me. You know, licked my pussy and stuff." She sat down on the end of my bed and looked at me. I was looking in her direction, but I couldn't meet her gaze. I didn't want to hear this.

"Why are you telling me this Lu?" I asked.

"After a couple of times where he ate me out ... God this is so embarrassing ... which I really liked. He forced me – well he didn't really force me, but he put his hands on my head and pushed. I could have fought him off, but I ... well fair is fair, right? So I took him in my mouth. I didn't really like it, but I did it 'cause ... well he did it for me."

I just sat in my desk chair and closed my eyes. WHY WAS SHE TELLING ME ALL THIS?

"And then after a few weeks, where we did it several times a week – in his car. He'd have me do him when he dropped me off at home. Or even when he picked me up in the morning. I'd have to give him a bj before school. It was okay, I guess, but I didn't like the taste I had in my mouth in school. I had to use breath mints, and still...

"Well," she interrupted herself but went on, "anyway, after a couple of weeks after that, we did it. I fucked him in the backseat of his car. I promised myself I wouldn't, but I caved in to the pressure ... Well after that he wanted to do it every day in his car, on the way home. I told him no, and I didn't really like it that much."

"Lu! Why are you telling me all this. I don't want to know. Especially if you fucked that asshole," I complained.

"He was an asshole, too. He said I wasn't that great, and that if I couldn't get to like it, he'd drop me. Like he was the hottest thing since, like, forever. ... That was it for me. I got out of his car and walked two miles to get home. That was three weeks ago. But the thing is ... I mean..."

We're finally getting to the point?

"I don't do anything with James. He's a really nice guy, right? ... Well the thing is, I miss it. The oral sex, I mean. Like when Anson was eating me out, it was the greatest thing ever. And then when we were doing the other stuff, he'd still do oral once in a while. Once I started having sex ... well, fucking ... the oral sex tapered off almost to nothing. At least from him. I was still expected to blow him whenever ... Uh. Anyway, I was wondering ... if you'd ... you know..." She stopped talking and started peeling off the bottom half of her outfit.

I was dumbfounded. She wanted me to lick her pussy, 'cause she missed it? Then I looked at her half-naked. She had a really lovely pussy, it was all smooth except for a strip of hair on the mound. It was beautiful. I looked at her, pants pulled almost off, naked from the waist down, with a skin tight top – her sweater was on the bed now. The landing strip on her pussy caught my attention. It looked soft and curly. It was half an inch at the top and Veed down so it was pointing straight at her pussy. Or her clit. I wasn't really sure about which, 'cause I wasn't sure if every girl was the same.

On the porn videos they were mostly the same – except for the she-males, they had a cock and breasts – that was strange. But the other girls, some had a big clit and some had a clit you could hardly see. But the clit was always at the top of the pussy. So I guess Lu's Vee was pointing at her clit.

All that went through my mind in about a second. Then I started to think. 'Use the big brain, instead of the little one in my dick' is the way it was usually described on the internet stories.

"Wait a minute, Lu," I said, stopping her from taking the leotard pants completely off. "Did you have a date with ... uh ... James last night?"

"Yeah. We didn't do hardly anything. I'm frustrated. Don't you want to do this, Chris?" she replied.

"Of course I do. But ... don't you have a date with James tonight, too?"

"Well, yeah, but it's just a movie."

"So you want me to give you a nice, frustration easing pussy licking and then you'll be set to go out with James? Right?"

"Well ... if you put it that way ... I guess ... yes. That's exactly what I want."

"Then 'no' is my answer. Come back and see me when the date is done. I'll take care of your frustrations afterwards ... if you haven't done anything during the date." I was kinda pissed off at her. Like, I should be the Chris-cream in her James-oreo cookie? I didn't think so.

She was surprised. Shocked even. She pulled up her tight, pink leotards, sniffed a little – okay, she was crying softly – and left. I had a boner that I had to take care of. Twice.

I didn't see her the rest of the day, until she came back from her movie date at about 10:30. She was wearing her pink leotard underneath skin-tight jean pedal pushers. You could see the pink second-skin under the bottom of the jeans going down to her ankles. And the second-skin pink top under the same oversized black sweater. HOT!

She went straight up to her room and closed the door. About half an hour later, the rest of the family went to bed. And thirty minutes after that, there was a small knock at my door. She stuck her head in around the door, without me saying anything.

"Chris? You promised. I didn't do anything. I was a good girl." She smiled sexily, and started stripping her pants off.

I looked over from my bed. I'm sure there was a good sized tent in my boxers. Lu was squirming out of her pink leotards. She had to put one foot up on my bed to get them over her foot, and I could see everything there was to see. Then she put her other foot up, and I got to see it all over again. She was still wearing her skin tight top and I could tell how many little bumps each breast had, beside the nipple.

I scooted over on the bed and threw back the covers. She climbed in and said, "Chris, we can't ... you know ... do it. Just some oral sex, okay? Promise?"

I was going to get my mouth on her sex. I'd have promised anything. And I hoped I'd be able to keep my promise.

I kissed her first. She was taken aback, a little, I think. She was expecting me to just eat her pussy. I wanted to finish there, but I'd make love to her on the way. I mean really... 'just eat me out?' Are you nuts?

She may have been a little put off at first, but she got the idea fast. I had never really kissed any girl before, but I'd seen it on the internet, lots. I even read on some site about 'How to kiss a woman.' I tried to remember, but then I was spending more effort trying to remember how, than actually doing it. I gave up on the article, and just did what she was doing to me. Tongue gliding across my teeth. Tongue stroking the soft part of my mouth and then dancing with her tongue. Teeth grabbing softly on her lower lip.

I rolled over her and wrapped my legs around her left leg. My cock staying in my PJ-boxers (with the tiniest of fly openings – what were the manufacturers thinking when they decided to put that size opening in there?) rubbing against her thigh. I rubbed her mound with my thigh, and I lowered my hand to her breast.

"Oohhh," she sighed softly. "You've done this before. That feels so nice."

"Nope," I said, the words coming when I had to take a breath, "I'm really a kissing virgin."

One of her hands coiled around my back and the other was on the back of my neck. She arched a little, pulling her pussy away, but her breast went into my palm.

"Well, you're doin' just fine." She laughed a bit.

"I like this leotard." My hand slid across her chest to her other boob, and my other was behind her back. It went to her far shoulder and twisted her a little so I could get to her other breast.

"It's a body suit, Chris," she said as she began to kiss me again. This time she was trying to see if I still had my tonsils.

Slowly, I separated from her and began to slither under the covers. I'm a big guy and I must have made a big hump down there. It was dark, but I navigated by sense of smell. She smelled good. A lot different from what I had thought. The internet movies never tell what a girl smells or tastes like.