Message-ID: <47478asstr$1082027401@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <news@newsread1.news.pas.earthlink.net> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Path: 57bc646b!not-for-mail From: Magi <baner1@earthlink.net> X-Original-Message-ID: <8f2s70tu2h4mcpp4puaa6anb9v909j53a7@4ax.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 14 Apr 2004 21:05:30 PDT X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 15 Apr 2004 04:05:30 GMT Subject: {ASSM} "Pete" A Young Man's Story Chapter 53 X-Original-Subject: "Pete" A Young Man's Story CHapter 53 Lines: 671 Date: Thu, 15 Apr 2004 07:10:01 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2004/47478> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, IceAltar CHAPTER 53 When Mom said, "Oh, Nicole was here," it didn't register for a minute. Then I thought to myself, 'Wait! Could she be Nicole Fell, the banker's wife from Cantil? I have to get hold of Karen and talk to her.' Dad went back into the house, and as Mom was leaving, she said, "Take your time. It'll take us a while to get ready." I was tying my shoes and thinking about what Mom had said, when the phone rang again. My silent question was answered when a voice said, "Hi Pete; it's Nicole." It took me a second to gather my thoughts. Then I said, "Uhh, hi Nicole. It's good to hear from you. What's up?" A serious-sounding Nicole went on, "Pete, I just left Karen and I'm calling you on my cell phone. Karen tells me that you and she have been seeing each other and that you like each other a lot. I'm happy for both of you, but I need to talk to you about something. "She's my sister's child, and she and I have been close since she was a baby. I've never been able to raise a child of my own, so I gave her all the love I would have given to my own daughter. "However, I've kept my private life a secret from her. She thinks I'm a married woman who talks a good game, but would never follow up on anything. And that's the way I'd like to keep things. "But, you know better. You and I have been together; you saw me with her father in the room over the garage, and you know about my feelings for other women. If she found out about any of this, I'm afraid it would destroy our relationship, and that would break my heart. "I'm going to ask you a big favor. Will you please promise you won't tell her about me?" I had never before heard a grown-up ask for anything with such emotion in her voice. I immediately said, "Of course I promise. You have my word." There was quiet for a few seconds. Then she said, "Thank you, Pete. I believe you, and I owe you." There was such relief in her voice that I wanted to cheer her up a little, so I said, "You don't owe me anything, Nicole. The time I spent with you in Cantil was wonderful, and I think about you all the time." Surprising me, she asked excitedly, "Do you really, Pete? Do you really think about me?" I was about to answer her, when what she said earlier finally hit me! SHE was the girl whom Mr. Gilroy was making love to, the night I saw Dad and Clair, in the room over the garage. For a long time, I thought it was Mom, and I remember how relieved I was when I found out she wasn't. Suddenly, Nicole asked, "Pete, are you there?" A little flustered, I answered, "Oh, uhh yeah. You must have been driving through a dead area. Yes, Nicole, I had a great time that night, and I miss you and think about you often." "I miss you, too, Pete. Can I give you a call the next time I get into town?" I told her, "I'll be looking forward to it." Then I hung up and sat thinking about that night in Cantil, and how she looked in Kate's big bed. Karen showed up a few minutes later, and we all went out for breakfast. It was a beautiful day, and we went to one of the up-scale Sunday-brunch places that California is famous for. We sat outside and everyone was laughing and joking. The mood was light, but I could tell that Mom was a little nervous. Karen got along well with everyone. At first, I was surprised that Kate knew her. Then I remembered that she and her family had been to Cantil. She was talking with Erin and Amy, and they seemed to be having fun, so I watched Kate and Ben for a while. They looked wonderful together. I've always heard that pregnant women can be radiant, and in her case, it was true. She really is more beautiful than ever. Somehow, even though her belly is getting big, it looks great on her. She looks like she belongs in one of those 'Family Living' magazines. I tried to remember her as she was when we were together, but she's almost a totally different person now. It's also really nice to see the way Ben behaves around her. Mom and Dad are pretty affectionate with each other, but the way Ben acts when Kate is around is amazing. He never passes her without touching her, and when they sit together, he often rests his hand on her belly. At first, that bothered me. I guess I was jealous. But, the more I see them together, the better I feel about things, and the happier I am for both of them. I still kind of miss her, though. We sat around for a long time after breakfast. I watched Erin, Amy, and Karen talking, and it struck me how beautiful my little sister has become. With her long blonde hair, her electric-blue eyes, and her tall, athlete's body, she could easily pass for the same age as the other girls. I thought about the time we had gone dancing, and the guy and his son had come to the table. The son had flipped over Erin then. If he saw her now, he'd probably have a seizure. We drove home after breakfast, and Karen stayed till about two in the afternoon. Then she said that her dad was coming home and she wanted to be there, so I walked her to her car. "You have a nice family, Pete." "Thanks. They seem to like you, as well." "Friday was wonderful, Pete. I haven't been able to think of anything else since then." "Yes, it was. You were wonderful to be with, and I hope we can continue seeing each other. But, you already know that Mom is going in for an operation, so I'll be pretty busy for a while." "I understand, and I talked to my dad this morning. He's pretty upset about Clair, so I want to hang in there with him for a while. But, you and I will see each other at school, and I hope we can date and talk a lot." I told her I was sure we would. Then I watched her drive away. Part of me wanted to run after her and start another boyfriend-girlfriend thing, and I was pretty sure that she wouldn't take much convincing. But, deep down, I knew it was better this way. I just wished this way didn't leave me feeling so lonely at times. 000 The next thirty days went by in a flash, but there were some surprises. Mom went to the hospital on Tuesday and we all went with her. Ben couldn't make it, but Kate and Dad were there. Erin, Amy, and I got excuses from school so we could be there, too. There were several phone calls before we left. One was from Sylvia. She wished her well and said that she was in New York, or she would also have been there for Mom. The first surprise was the doctor. He turned out to be Andy, the guy we met at the dance! I was pretty sure that the first time he met Mom was at the dance, and I made a mental note to ask her how he ended up being her doctor. Another surprise was Dad's cell phone. It rang throughout the day, and every time it did, he got up and moved far enough away that we couldn't hear his conversation. The operation took most of the day, and we sat on pins and needles the whole time. Karen dropped by after school to see how things were going. She couldn't stay, but she made me promise to call her after it was over. When Doc Andy finally came out, he said that it had gone very well. He made a point of telling everyone that the cancer had been confined to her bladder, and that he was able to remove it all. Then he informed us that Mom was in recovery and heavily sedated, so she wouldn't wake up until tomorrow morning, but she was doing fine, and we should all go home. Dad didn't want to leave, but the doctor promised us that if there was any change, he would contact us. Then he told us to come back by at seven in the morning if we wanted to be there when she woke up. We were exhausted by the time we got home. Amy and Erin put something together for dinner, and we all sat in silence while we ate. After dinner, Amy went to her room to work on Tomaso's stuff, and Erin went in to call Kelly, so Dad and I went into the living room to relax. I kept wondering about the phone calls he was getting, so I asked him. He answered, "It was Mariani. He's concerned about your mother." "Does that bother you?" "Yes." "C'mon, Dad. Tell me what's going on." He closed his eyes and sat there for a full minute or more. Finally, he sighed and nodded. He said, "Yeah, you deserve to know the whole story. Your mom has been ill for a long time. In the beginning, she would go to the doctor, and when she came home, she would say that everything was okay, that it was a minor thing, that it would pass. But our love-making grew less and less frequent, until -- until, one day, she told me that she just couldn't have sex any more because she had an illness that had no cure." Dad paused to clear his throat, then continued. "That was... That was when she told me to see other women. I refused for a long time, but she kept urging me to go ahead, saying that she was okay with it. I don't claim to be a saint, but I swear to you that I would never have done it, except that she insisted. For a while, it was exciting to be with another woman, and be able to talk to your Mom about it. I thought we were being avant-guard, or new-age, or something. But, before very long, I found I just couldn't do it anymore. Pete, I don't want to be with other women; I want to be with your mom. "So, I started looking into things. I found out that there IS an operation, but it's serious surgery and she was frightened. About that time, she met Andy Epstein. She met him that night you kids were with her at that restaurant in Universal City, and she said they ended up talking most of the night. "The next day, he called me. We talked about the surgery and he gave me his credentials. It turns out that he's one of the most respected urologists in the country, and he's done many of these operations. He encouraged us to have it done, but, as you know, I just changed jobs and we're having problems with the insurance. It'll come through eventually, but she needs the operation now. We can't wait any longer, and that's where Robert Mariani comes in. He's going to loan us the money." I was thinking about what he said, and I asked, "Is he doing it because he's generous, or because Kristen and I have been going together?" "Neither one. He's doing it because he's in love with your mother." I suspected that something like this was going on, but I was shocked that Dad knew about it. Right away, I asked, "And this doesn't bother you?" "Of course it bothers me. It drives me crazy! But, who am I to say anything after what I've done? The important thing is for her to get well. What happens after that is up to her." "You won't let her go, will you Dad?" "Not without a fight." ooo Kate and Ben were with us when Mom woke up the next morning. She was spaced out on drugs, and had a lot of tubes sticking out of her, but the nurse said that the doctor had been there already and she was doing fine. So we each kissed her, and as Erin, Amy, and I were leaving for school, Tammy showed up. I wanted to ask her what was happening with Tony, but we had to get going. We visited Mom every day after school, and we noticed that she received new flowers each day. She really liked them, but, by Saturday, the room was so full of flowers, she had to tell the nurse to give some of them to other patients. All of her friends and most of her dance students had sent some, and nearly all of them came to visit her. She liked the flowers, but she especially appreciated the visitors. Some of the nurses made comments about how good they were for Mom. I always checked the cards that came with the flowers to see who sent them. I would write down the names, and that night, Amy would write thank-you notes. The next day, Mom would sign them with a big smile on her face, and I would mail them. But, every day, a huge new bouquet would arrive, and it never had a card on it. I figured that it was probably from Mariani. Mom was shuffling around with a walker by Saturday afternoon, and she came home late Sunday. Some more flowers arrived during the next few days, but nothing from Mariani. I guessed that she had told him to stop. Mom was able to walk a little, but for the first week of recovery, she spent most of the time in bed. After school on Monday, Dr. Epstein came by and checked Mom. Then he came into the living room and talked with Dad about getting a temporary nurse. Amy was there, and she immediately said that she could take care of things. Doc Andy looked a little apprehensive, and warned that it would involve changing dressings and such, but Amy said that she could do it. Dad started to protest, but Amy said, "Dad, I can do this! I've taken care of my brother since he was born, and in later years I even took care of my biological mother." So she and Dr. Epstein went back into Mom's room, where he showed Amy what to do. Dad was home for another week and a half, and he watched Mom during the day. When Amy got home from school, she took over the nasty stuff -- changing dressings, emptying bedpans, etc. After Dad went back to work, Amy left as late as she could in the morning; then she drove home at lunch to check on Mom, and she came home right after school. It was almost five weeks before Mom was able to care for herself, and I never heard Amy complain once. The week that Mom came home from the hospital, I began looking in the papers and asking around for a job. Then, on Wednesday evening, Mrs. Devon stopped by. Dad and I had installed an intercom system in what I jokingly called my "apartment." It had two buttons on it. One was a buzzer to let you know someone wanted you; you pushed the other one when you wanted to talk. I was in my room when the buzzer went off, and Dad asked me to come to the house. I went there, and Mrs. Devon was sitting in the living room with Amy and Dad, showing them some pictures. Some were of her daughters and I, and she told us which ones the school had picked. They were great looking, and I really looked forward to seeing them in the yearbook and in the school newspaper. Then she showed us some others. The first group were the ones including the gorgeous girl with the long wavy hair. They showed her and I standing on the sidelines of a football field. In some, she looked like she was cheering for a play that had just taken place; in others, she was standing in different poses. I was in them, but the focus was always on her. I had forgotten how pretty she was. But, there were three others in the first group, and in every one of them, both of us were highlighted. In one of them, I was a little closer to the camera than she was. Whoever had done the photo work had outlined my body slightly, and in my football uniform, I looked twenty-five years old, and seven feet tall. She was leaning with her back against me, and I was looking down at her. The artist had put little stars in my eyes, and I looked like I wanted to make love to her right there. In the other two, she was facing me. It made me appreciate how good an actress she is, because the look in her eyes was pure, innocent love. I was shocked at how good we looked together. Actually, I didn't even recognize myself at first. I looked at Mrs. Devon to say something, and she was staring at me with a very intense look on her face. It was as though she was trying to see what I was thinking -- and it was a little scary. The final set was five pictures of Margo and I. Mrs. Devon had been showing them to Dad, and as she handed them to me, she said, "The camera loves you, young man." The backdrop and the floor at the studio where we took the pictures was a medium shade of blue, but two of the photographs showed us standing in a field of flowers. In them, Margo was close to me and we were both smiling. In person, Margo is very pretty in a wholesome, all-American way. In the photos, she was drop-dead gorgeous, and amazingly sexy-looking. She has large eyes, and in the photos, they seemed have a life of their own. The next picture was one where I wasn't wearing my shirt and I was holding her up. It was taken low and from the side. The fluid they had sprayed on me looked like perspiration, and my muscles were standing out like those of a body-builder. When I first saw it, the photo looked like a still picture out of a "B" movie, but when I looked closer, it seemed to come alive. It looked like it was part of a scene, where the next shot would be, us in the flowers, making love. The last two were truly amazing. They looked like they were taken at night. The background was city lights, and we were in silhouette. You could barely make out our features. The first one showed us as though we were getting ready to kiss. Our lips were almost touching, and somehow, it radiated sex. I actually gasped when I first saw it. The final shot was even more unusual. The background was the same city lights, but this time, the foreground was a close-up of just our heads. Our faces were black against the background, and there were flecks of light in our eyes and on our lips. My mouth was slightly open, and Margo's tongue was snaking out, almost touching me. It was so sexy looking, it looked almost pornographic. As I stared at it, I became disturbed. It wasn't me there; it was a couple making love, and that made me want to see what happened next. Mrs. Devon's voice brought me back. She was talking to Dad when she said, "I don't like pornography. I'm very careful with my daughters, and I've raised them to know and respect my views on this. I'm also careful with the other people I manage, but times being what they are, especially in today's advertising, I sometimes have to place them in jobs that require mature behavior. Now, I want to assure you that 'mature behavior' does NOT mean pornography. It means suggestive poses like these last photos. And that's the reason I'm here. "Besides my daughters, I represent some other clients. Pete and Amy met two of them at the photo shoot. The first set of pictures are with a girl named Jasmine. She's a seasoned model, with a long resume. The second girl is named Margo. She's also a popular model and actress. I showed these pictures, and a number of others we took with her and Peter, to a client of mine, and he's interested in using them in an ad campaign." Dad asked, "What kind of an ad campaign?" "The company is called 'Perfect Care'. They have a line of personal care products aimed at a particular area of the youth market. They make hair care products for young people with blonde hair." "But the girls in the photos have brown hair?" Mrs. Devon replied, "I know. This is a brand-new product. It's an inexpensive, easy to use, hair bleaching process. It takes several weeks to work, but it's very gentle on your hair, and leaves it nice and soft. You can stop and maintain the color you want, or you can go completely blonde. If it sells like he thinks it will, it could be worth an awful lot of money. He plans a TV campaign where a dark-haired girl will gradually go blonde over a period of about a month, using the product. The company is the brainchild of Seth Greenberg. He's the stepson of Tom Erickson, the CEO of Erickson Foods." "You mean, the girl will have to dye her hair blonde?" "Yes, that's it -- and she'll get paid extremely well to do it." "Have they tested it?" "Yes, they have, with outstanding results." "Hmm, that's interesting. But why are you doing this? Erickson Foods is a giant company! Don't they have their own ad agency?" "Yes, they do. But, this is something Seth Greenberg wants to do on his own. I really think he wants to prove himself, and this product could let him do that. He wants to test market it locally and see how it goes." Dad sat thinking for a while. Eventually, he said, "Okay, but what about those pictures? That's pretty sexy stuff for a young person's hair-care product." "Mr. Baker, sex sells. Mr. Greenberg wanted to see how Pete acted in a sexy situation. He's a very handsome young man, but he's not a professional actor, and Mr. Greenberg wanted to see how he responded to a beautiful woman in an intimate situation. Some young men are very uncomfortable in these situations. Pete seemed to be at ease." Dad started to say something, but Amy put her hand on his to stop him. She asked, "Okay, Mrs. Devon, what's the deal?" Mrs. Devon stared at Amy for a minute, drumming the fingers of her right hand on her left wrist. Her eyes narrowed and she seemed to be thinking. Then she grinned and said, "My goodness. You really are a girl after my own heart. Okay, here's the 'deal'. Last week, I signed Margo to a TV show, so she won't be available for this thing. Jasmine knows about it and she's anxious to do it, and I have another girl who would love to do it. It would require that we re-shoot things, and present it to the client for his approval. However, I'm not sure either girl has the look he wants. Both Jasmine and the other girl are very pretty, but neither has that underlying sweet look that Margo possesses. Margo has the ability to look like a sexy beauty queen. Yet you always get the feeling that underneath it all, is the girl next door." Dad held up the picture of Margo with her tongue out, and retorted, "The girl in this picture doesn't look like any girl who lived next door to me!" "We'll, she's a good actress, and we had a good director. But let's get back to why I'm here. I'd like Pete to do a re-shoot with Jasmine and one of my other girls. It'll only take about an hour, but he won't get paid. If the client likes what he sees, we'll use Pete and the girl Seth likes best in the campaign." I asked, "When is it?" "Can you and Amy be there tomorrow around four?" Amy looked a little alarmed, and she glanced worriedly at Dad. He waved his hand and assured her, "Don't worry; I'll take care of Mom." Suddenly, Erin asked me, "Pete, please, may I come, too?" I looked at Mrs. Devon and she nodded. Then she wrote an address on a paper, handed it to Amy. "This is a small studio in Van Nuys. It'll be fine for what we need." Thursday The address she gave us is just a few minutes from school, so the three of us arrived early for the shoot. Mrs. Devon was already there, and smiled as she checked her watch. We followed her to a small office, where an older man was standing at a makeup table working on the girl named Jasmine. When the girl saw us in the mirror, she flashed me a big smile, waggled her fingers at me, and said, "Hi Pete!" It surprised me a little, because the last time I saw her, she wasn't all that friendly. But I waved back at her. Mrs. Devon pointed to me and said a few words to the makeup man. Then she spoke to me. "Pete, as soon as he's finished with Jasmine, he'll take a look at you. You don't need to change clothes; these are all going to be head shots. The girls and I will be back shortly." She left, and took Erin and Amy with her. I sat for a time, watching the makeup guy working on the girl. He would touch her up and stand back. She would look in the mirror and say, "I don't like this or that." Then he would touch her up some more. It was obvious to me that he was getting annoyed. Finally, he stepped back and said, "That's it; you're finished. Now, get up! I have other things to do." She flashed him a nasty look; then she turned to me. Her face instantly changed to a big smile, and she stood up and came over to me. She gave me a hug and an air kiss, and said, "Hurry up and get beautiful, honey. We have to go nail this thing down." "Aren't they going to try out someone else for this as well?" She leaned close and whispered, "Don't worry, sweets; looking sexy is my specialty. You tell the old lady that you want to work with me, and I'll uhh, think of a way to thank you properly." She was still holding me, and she slid her hand down and cupped the cheek of my butt before she turned away. She left the room, and the makeup guy spent a few minutes on me. Just as I was getting up, Mrs. Devon and Amy came back. They seemed to have been arguing about something, because Amy was shaking her head. Mrs. Devon said, "Go directly across the hall; we'll meet you in a minute." The place across the hall turned out to be a small, almost empty room. The walls, floor and ceiling were all painted that same shade of medium blue I'd seen before; the only furniture was a small table. There was a camera sitting on it, and several lights on stands were gathered around it. Erin was watching a guy with a light meter hanging around his neck. He was fooling with the camera, and Jasmine was talking with him. She seemed to be standing awfully close to him. In fact, when I came in, she moved back a little, flashed me the big smile again, and said, "This is Sully; he's my favorite photographer." The guy nodded to me, and continued working on the camera. Finally, I asked him, "Why is everything painted blue?" He answered, "The camera doesn't see this shade of blue. It turns white on the film, so you can add whatever you want, as a background." "Why not just paint everything white?" "It's a little complicated, but the simple answer is, it's difficult to get a white that's pure enough and even enough. There are too many shadows and things." Then I thought of something, so I asked, "The last time I did this, some of the pictures looked like they were taken at night, but I don't remember them turning the lights down?" Sully seemed to be warming to the subject. He grinned and stopped working on the camera to explain, "It's all done in the lab. We shoot under full light; we add a background; then we darken just the areas that we want." I think he would have gone on further, but just then, Mrs. Devon came in and said, "Okay, let's get going." Jasmine walked over to me, and Mrs. Devon said, "Okay, Pete, take her in your arms and look down at the girl you're in love with." I held her, and she looked up at me. It was startling to watch her change. From a nearly trashy-looking woman, she was suddenly a sweet-faced, sexy girl. She pushed her body against me, and almost instantly, I could feel myself getting hard. We held ourselves that way while the camera clicked away, but this time, Jasmine didn't pull away. Instead, she forced herself even closer. I must have smiled or something, because Mrs. Devon called out, "That's it! That's the look I want." The camera clicked some more. At last, Mrs. Devon said, "Good! That should do it. Thanks, Jasmine." The girl pushed herself against me once more. Then she winked at me, turned toward Mrs. Devon and asked, "When will you know?" "As soon as he makes a decision, I'll let you know." Jasmine turned without another word, and she left without saying goodbye. Mrs. Devon silently watched her go. Then, she looked at Sully, and they both shook their heads. I asked, "Uhh, what's that about?" Mrs. Devon replied, "Oh, nothing. She's a focused girl, is all. When she wants something, she'll do almost anything to get it." Mrs. Devon left, and the photographer glanced at Erin. Then he bent close to me and said, "She's right. That broad will do anything! We were doing a shoot last year, and she..." He was interrupted when the door opened. Mrs. Devon came back, and this time, she wasn't alone. Amy's hair had been combed, and she looked like she had makeup on, but she didn't look happy. Mrs. Devon said, "Okay, Peter, let's do it again." Amy looked over at her and started to say, "Uhh, Mrs. Devon, I don't think I..." "Hush, Amy! Pete knows what to do. Now, just be your pretty self, and we'll get through this." I was surprised, but I suddenly realized why Mrs. Devon had done this. Amy has the same kind of sweet look that Margo has; she's every bit as pretty, plus she's younger and fresher looking. I grasped her hand and gently pulled her to me. She looked up at me with a kind of nervous expression, and Mrs. Devon said, "Perfect!! Shoot it." The camera started clicking, and Mrs. Devon began saying things such as, "Wonderful! Amy, move closer; put your cheek on his." I was trying to be professional, and do exactly what Mrs. Devon asked. But it was so disturbing, holding Amy that close, that I had to concentrate to keep my mind from wandering. Finally, Mrs. Devon said, "Okay, that'll do," and Amy stepped back. She looked like she might be blushing, but I guessed it was probably the makeup. I looked at Mrs. Devon and she was talking to the cameraman. I was about to ask her if we were finished, when she pointed to Erin and said, "Come here, dear." Then she turned to me and said, "Pete, let's get some shots of you and Erin, just for the heck of it." Erin's hair is the same color as mine, but hers hangs down to the middle of her back, and right now, it was tied with a rubber band. Amy took off the rubber band, and she and Mrs. Devon fluffed out Erin's hair. Then Sully took some pictures of us facing the camera standing side by side, and a couple from the back, with my arm around her waist. Finally, he took a couple of her alone, and Mrs. Devon said, "Okay, that's enough. Our hour is up; let's get out of here." The photographer left and Mrs. Devon said, "Thanks, kids. I'll let you know as soon as I hear something. It'll probably be a couple of weeks." We kept our makeup on until we got home. Erin excitedly started telling Mom and Dad about having her picture taken; then we listened to Amy complain about being shanghaied. She pointed her finger at me and said that there was no way she would allow her hair to be bleached, no matter what. The only other thing that happened in January was that Mr. and Mrs. Martin, the couple we pulled out of the burning car, stopped by. They both seemed fine. Mr. Martin shook my hand until it almost fell off, and Mrs. Martin hugged Erin before she kissed us both. They said they were going on a cruise, but as soon as they got back, they wanted to take everyone out for dinner. My job-hunting efforts finally paid off; I got a job at Van Nuys Airport. It's one of the largest private airports in the country, and it's where we park our plane. I worked at an aircraft repair and rental operation called Skypark. I worked there after school and on Saturdays, doing pretty much the same thing as I did in Cantil. For anyone who'd spent much time around small planes, it was a no-brainer, but it paid pretty well. Unfortunately, it also cut into my already lame so-called social life. Karen and I saw each other quite a bit, but we kept things low-key. We tried to get together on the weekends, but Karen worked in one of her Dad's pharmacies on Saturday evening until almost ten o'clock. And he didn't like her going out that late. I would drive over and wait until she got home; then we would sit in the car for a while, and make out. We didn't have sex, which meant that I was beginning to get excessively horny, but I didn't push it. One time, she called and said that a guy from another school had asked her out. I encouraged her to go. She called me twice that night. Once while she was on the date, and again when she got home. She said he was no fun at all. And I went out once with a girl from school, but all she did was talk about Kristen the whole night. I couldn't wait to take her home. Dad left for Chicago the last week in January. He called every night and talked to each of us, even if it was just to say hello. Then he talked to Mom for a long time. Kate came by a lot, and Tammy came by every day or so. I tried to talk with her about Tony, but every time I asked her about him, she would just shake her head. At the end of the first week in February, Dad came home for one day. He said the insurance had come through. He gave me a smile and thumb's up sign; then he went to Mariani's house to sign some papers. When he got back, he had a kind of subdued look on his face. Not much gets my dad down, so I asked him what had happened. He sighed, and told me, "Later, son. I need to sort some things out, first." Mom got better, but the recovery was slow. She was walking around by the middle of February, but she tired easily. Amy and Kristen talked every day. Once in a while, I would say hello, but it was obvious that Kristen and I didn't have much to say to each other. But she always said that she missed me before she hung up. I called Sam a couple of times, but she wasn't home, and she didn't call me back. I saw the Devon twins at school, and a few times I asked them if they knew anything about the pictures Amy and I had taken, but each time, they claimed that they hadn't heard anything. On a Saturday night, early in February, I met Karen after work and we went out for a Coke. We were holding hands, bemoaning the fact that we hadn't been able to get together since that night at her house, when I got an idea. President's Day is a three-day holiday in the middle of the month, and I asked her if she could get away. She said that she'd ask her Dad, but she was pretty sure that she could. I'd been wondering if the promise of the rooms and free stuff in Las Vegas was real, so on Sunday afternoon, I called the hotel. After a few minutes of trying to tell them who I was, I was put through to a special operator. As soon as I identified myself, her attitude changed amazingly. The first thing she did was to provide me with a special number to use when I called again. Then, when I asked about the upcoming holiday, she confirmed things within seconds. Immediately after that, she asked me if I needed to be picked up at the airport. I hadn't thought about that, so I told her I'd let her know. I asked Mom if I could use our plane, and she said it was a good idea. Mom is a pilot, too, and she knows that letting a plane sit idle for long periods of time is not good for it. I called Karen and asked her if she had talked to her Dad. She said that she had, and he wanted to talk to me. So I drove to her house. They were standing in the doorway when I drove up. Mr. Gilroy had his arm around Karen, and they both looked happy. I went into the house and Mr. Gilroy asked Karen, "Honey, will you leave Pete and I alone for a little bit?" She nodded, and disappeared into another room. From the feminine furnishings I glimpsed, I figured it was her own room. He offered me a chair and sat next to me. He looked at me for several seconds before saying, "Pete, you're a remarkable young man. You have been intimate with the two most important people in my life, and I suppose that I should be angry with you. But I find it difficult to do so. If anything, I probably should thank you. Karen has told me about the first time you were with her, and what happened with Clair. She told me how both of them insisted on being with you, and I guess that in the same situation, I would have done the same." Suddenly, he got up and faced one of the windows. His voice broke for a second when he admitted, "No, I KNOW I would have done the same, and that's one of the things I want to talk about. The first thing is, that night you saw your dad and I in the garage was my doing. Your dad has told me that he talked with you about his reason for being there. But I have to tell you something. Your dad didn't really want to be a part of that, and it would never have happened if Clair and I hadn't insisted on it. And as you well know, she's a beautiful woman, and very hard to resist. "Another thing is, you saw how she behaved that night with you and Karen, and you may have been with her other times. It doesn't matter now, because that's also my fault. I should have gotten her into treatment a long time ago. "Then I saw the way you handled things that time at the motel. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you said and did that day. It made me come to my senses, and forced me to change my life. Of the two of us, I'm the one who has been acting like a teenager." He turned from the window and faced me; then he went on, "But that's changed now. I'm going to start being the father that Karen needs, and I want to begin immediately. So, let's talk about Karen. She's grown up to be a wonderful young lady. When I look at her, I'm constantly amazed by her being as smart and beautiful as she is. I wish I could take credit for it, but, I can't. Frankly, I don't know why she turned out so well. "She has more character in her little finger than I have in my whole body, and I'm proud to call her my daughter. However, she has asked for my consent for her to go away with you for several days. May I ask where you're going to take her?" I told him it was to Las Vegas. I said that I was going to fly her there, and I gave him a short version of how I had free rooms and accommodations at the hotel. As I talked, his eyes got bigger and bigger, and he ended up shaking his head. He made a face and said, "I thought you were going camping or something. Do your, uhh, folks know about this?" "Yes sir." He sighed and looked at me. He kept shaking his head, and I think I saw a little smile for a split second. Finally, he muttered, "Damn, to be your age again." Then he sobered and said, "Pete, I'm not going to ask what you and Karen will do, but would you submit to an STD test? I can have my lab do it, and I'll ask Karen if she'll take one, too." "Sure, Mr. Gilroy. Does that mean she can go?" "If the tests come back okay, I uhh, guess so." "Great! But could you do me a favor and not tell her where we're going? I'd like it to be a surprise." He said, "Sure." Then he went to Karen's room and tapped on the door. She came over to me, put her arm around my waist, looked at her father, and asked, "Is everything okay?" "Yes, dear. I asked Pete to take an STD test. Would you mind taking one, too?" "No, Daddy. Does that mean I can go?" He looked at us standing together, and he got kind of a wistful look on his face. After no more than a second or two, he nodded and in a low voice, said, "My goodness, you kids grow up quickly." Then he shook his head and said, "I'll be right back." He went into another room, came back with two small containers, and handed them to us. We each went into the bathroom and put a urine sample into one of the containers. I found the whole business kind of embarrassing, but Karen didn't seem to be bothered by it. Then I remembered that she helped out at the local hospital once in a while. On the way back home, I started to think about what I was doing. I was going to be with a sweet, beautiful girl for a long weekend. Was I starting another relationship? Was I getting back into the same situation I just got out of? Did I want to be tied to one girl again? These thoughts were rolling around in my head, when a picture of her, lying naked on her bed, holding her arms up to me, popped into my mind -- -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+