Chapter 1

God, yes, I remember every detail of my extraction!

I was on a adrenalin high for a week after I had taken my CAP test and got a 6.9 score. I woke up every morning almost giddy. All that time and pain at the dojo and my geeky military gaming hobby had to have helped. I didn't brag, really, much, but I did let a couple of friends see my CAP card. I didn't mind that they let the news out, because my social standing grew quickly. With the new laws passed, I was legally an adult, but I knew that was just a fiction. I hadn't finished high school, much less college. I didn't have a job, I couldn't drive a car. I was still a kid on everything but paper.

Being 15 years old, I had spent a lot of time in daydreaming. But where I would formerly daydream about getting my driver's license or saving Lucy Babcock from a burning building, now I dreamed about fighting in space, saving my shipmates with my quick thinking and cool head.

And, of course I spent a lot of time, much of it with the bathroom door locked, thinking about which of my classmates I would choose for concubines. Again, being 15, other than movie stars, I thought about my high-school freshmen classmates, barely daring to think of the girls who were seniors.

This was pretty early on in the public's introduction to the concept of aliens, the Confederacy, the Sa'arm, and pick-ups. There were television news shows with talking heads debating how real it was and how concerned we should be. Some people had taken the whole situation very seriously. There were a few picketers in front every government building, demanding that the government ensure that everybody who wanted to go got a ticket off planet. But most people were still acting as if it weren't real, or if it was real that they would deal with it later.

Maybe someone had had the idea of getting together a pre-pack, but it wasn't me. And the girls at my school didn't drop if you flashed a qualifying CAP score. A lot of those that believed in the coming danger thought that they'd be able to land a qualifying guy from the football team who made them moist. Besides it was early May, the school year was ending soon and there were Proms to get dates to and summer bathing suits to shop for. It was early days, yet.

I was surprised when, a couple of weeks after I had passed my CAP test, I got home after school and I saw that my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. O'Brian, was waiting on our front porch. "Hello, David!" she greeted me.

"Mrs. O'Brian! It's nice to see you. Uhh ... my parents are out and won't be back for a couple of hours, but I'm sure that they would want me to ask you in."

"Thank you, David. That's very courteous of you."

Mom and Dad both worked. Mom had been a librarian since forever. Dad had worked for a defense plant in our town until recently, when he had been hired by a new high-technology firm. Mom's hours were steady and regular. Dad's were now erratic. When I got old enough, I was given my own key to the front door with the warning that I wasn't allowed to bring home schoolmates unless I had cleared it in advance with Mom or Dad.

I fished out my house key and opened the front door. I showed her to the living room and asked if she would like something cool to drink. Memorial Day was just a week off, and the weather had been holding clear and warm.

"Thank you for asking, David. I'll have whatever you are having." I walked back to the kitchen and poured each of us a glass of iced tea. Because Mrs. O'Brian was 'company, ' I placed each glass on a cocktail napkin on a saucer. I've got to admit that I had had a fierce crush on Mrs. O'Brian back when I was in fourth grade. She was someone who encouraged my reading in military history and always treated me as if I were grown up. It was because of her I learned how to find my passion in history and how I wound up an honors student years later.

"Thank you again, David," Mrs. O'Brian said as I placed her tea in front of her, "I see that your parents have placed a high priority on hospitality and courtesy as you have grown up." See what I mean? ' ... have grown up' as though I was already an adult.

As Mrs. O'Brian sipped her drink, I sipped mine and tried to covertly look at her over the rim of my glass. She was was my fourth-grade teacher, so she was, in a sense, ageless. But with my newly-found high-school sophistication I could see that she was early-forties, starting to thicken in the waist, but still had her glory, her thick head of hair, red with occasional strands of yellow that made it look like beaten gold. That red gold was wound up into a braid that wrapped around her head like a crown. Her face wasn't classic oval or pixie triangular; she had strong jaw line that provided lower corners to her face. Her complexion was a redhead's, creamy pale, with a dusting of faint freckles across the bridge of her nose. She had faint crow's feet crinkling at the corner of her green eyes. I noticed again how deep sea-green her eyes were.

Her eyes. Which were looking at me staring at her. I nearly choked on my tea. I set my class down and tried to pretend I wasn't staring.

"I'm sorry that my folks won't be home for," I looked at the clock on the mantle, "About an hour and a half, maybe two hours."

Mrs. O'Brian set her glass down carefully on her saucer. She delecately dabbed her lips and, taking a deep breath, looked directly into my eyes with her sea-green ones. "I didn't come here to see your parents, David. I came here to see you."

My response to this was a blank. I could not understand why a grownup wanted to talk to a kid instead of another grownup. I didn't have any response to this, but my parent's relentless drilling of polite behavior kicked in. "Well, then, I am glad I was here to meet you. What would you like to talk about?"

Mrs. O'Brian hesitated, made a couple of false starts, nervously licked her lips, then blurted, "I heard that you took your CAP test recently and did well."

I beamed. "I sure did!" I pulled out my wallet and showed her my CAP card with the 6.9 score in print big enough to read across the room. I handed her the card and she took it, examining it with an expression both wistful and relieved. She handed my card back and reached into her purse.

"As you can see, I did not score so well." Her score was a 6.2. I was stunned. How could this woman who was my hero, who had launched me into becoming an honors student, score lower than me? Mrs. O'Brian sighed. "Apparently, the pedagogy of children is not of major concern to whoever designed these tests."

Mrs. O'Brian returned her card to her purse, and then turned to face me. She seemed to be uncertain, but then squared her shoulders and asked, "David, have you given much thought to who you will take with you when you leave?"

I blushed. It was as though Mrs. O'Brian had read my mind. But, as she was always someone whose opinion I trusted, I decided to tell her what I had been thinking. "Well, I was thinking that I might ask Lucy Babcock. You remember that she sat behind me in your class? She seems to be a good person and she's, well ... pretty."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I remember Lucy. She seemed a little stuck up to me. If you weren't in her crowd, she was frightfully rude." Mrs. O'Brian took another breath and said, "I want you to consider taking me."

Again, I was stunned. I could take her? She would want to go with me? Over the horizon of my conscious thought, feelings, demands, and wild speculations were piling up like thunderheads, ready to pour down when I was alone to think. "But, but, Mrs. O'Brian! You would go with a kid like me?"

She smiled. "Of course I would, David. Remember, though, you are not a child anymore. At least that's what the law says." Her green eyes flashed and she smiled. "It's a law with which I agree."

"How much experience do you have with girls, David?" She asked.

"Well, I've gone out on dates for a year now. I've kissed girls. I've had all the health classes. But I don't drive yet, and so I don't go on dates alone with a girl. My parents are very strict, you know. If you weren't someone they knew and approved of, they would be very upset that I let you in."

Mrs. O'Brian nodded to herself, glanced again at the mantle clock, then stood up. Suddenly, with her above me like that, I felt as if I were back in the fourth grade. "David, I am very serious about wanting to go with you. I have two daughters, one of them just turned fourteen, one is nine. The fourteen year old, Tina, just took the CAP test yesterday. She got a 5.8." She looked at me with burning eyes. "I would do anything, anything to get myself and my girls off this planet before the Sa'arm attack."

I hadn't noticed that she had stepped out of her shoes. They were sensible flats, so she was still almost the same height. But I did notice when she reached to her waist and started unzipping her skirt.

"You've never seen a woman naked before, have you David? Not just on a computer screen, but alive, in the flesh, close enough to touch?" I nodded in agreement. It was true and I didn't want her to stop what she was doing. Her skirt was in a heap at her feet and she began unbuttoning her white blouse. "So, you are a virgin, David? You've never known the pleasure that comes from a woman?" I nodded and then shook my head, mute at what was happening in my own living room.

Her blouse, now tossed aside, Mrs. O'Brian was wearing a bra and a half-slip. She reached up under her slip and pulled off her panties. It struck me that there was nothing between me and her womanhood but a thin piece of nylon. I suddenly realized that I was sporting an almost painful boner, the biggest boner that I had ever experienced. Which, considering that I was 15 years old, wasn't that big. Mrs. O'Brian looking down at me saw the tent my pants were making and smiled to herself with satisfaction.

"Now David, I need to know, do you find me desirable?"

"Uh," I blushed, looking down at my crotch, "Yes, ma'am."

"David, have you ever had a woman touch your penis?"

Yes! A thousand thousand times in my daydreams. "No, ma'am."

Mrs. O'Brian knelt before me. I could see the generous swell of her breasts in her rather conservative bra. I looked into the depth of her cleavage. I felt dizzy, as if I could fall into that cleavage and disappear. I felt that would not be such a bad fate. Mrs. O'Brian reached for the buckle of my belt. Her arms reaching forward did pleasant things to her breasts, pushing them together, making her cleavage more pronounced.

She unfastened my belt buckle, undid the button at my jean's waist, and slid down the zipper. My cock pushed my tighty-whitey underwear up through the open fly. I groaned at the release of pressure. I felt Mrs. O'Brian's fingers slipping under my pants and the elastic band of my underwear at my hips and pulling my pants down. After a moment, I realized that I needed to lift my butt to let the pants slide off.

My cock sprang free. It felt exposed in the open air, exposed to Mrs. O'Brian's view. I felt myself blush, but I also felt proud of my manhood, rigid and erect. Mrs. O'Brian mmmmm-ed and crooned, "Oh David, you DO find me attractive!" She reached out and let her fingers rest lightly on my cock's shaft. The part that, I had discovered through patient exploring alone in my bed, had the least sensation.

Even there, on the least sensitive part of my cock, her touch felt as if there was an electric circuit of pleasure in my body, and she had closed the switch. I could feel the ripples and echoes of her touch down to my toes and up to my scalp. She leaned forward and, so lightly!, kissed my stammering lips. Her face was so close to mine, all I could see was her sea-green eyes. Her eyes. I fell into those eyes. I saw the minute striations of color, some blue, some gold.

Chapter 2 »