This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons is unintentional and strictly coincidental. If you're below the age of 18, or 21 depending on your locality, stop reading right now. If your government prohibits erotic literature, stop reading now and delete this. If you choose to continue, that is your decision -- and your responsibility -- not mine.

This is intended solely for adults, and any other rebroadcast, retransmission, and account of this game is strictly prohibited by the National Hockey League. Wait--The NHL doesn't care --I care. Any unauthorized redistribution of this is in violation of copyright. I expressly prohibit posting of this work on pay-sites, sites with advertising, and any type of site where a fee is charged. Any distribution without the author's permission is strictly prohibited.
 

Originally Posted 7/18/99

I'd love to know what you think, kind or critical. Positive or negative, I'll try to respond to everyone (except obnoxious flames). Thanks. My e-mail address is [email protected].

Authors Note: If you're looking for stroke, this isn't it. That's not to say there isn't sex in it. But strewn in between the sex there's quite a bit of plot and character development thrown in to muddy up the waters. Enjoy
 

"Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight" Christopher Marlowe
 
 

I wiped the sweat from my brow as I walked across the parking lot on this unseasonably warm early May day. As I was approaching the entrance to the Registry of Motor Vehicles, a teenaged girl was bounding toward the door at the same time. Being a gentleman -- or at least what passes for a gentleman in the 90's -- I held the outer door open for her. She walked through, thanked me, and then caught me by surprise by holding the inner door open for me, smiling coyly as she did. I grinned and thanked her in kind as I followed her into the RMV.

I let her get in front of me in line and casually looked her over; that is, I tried not to make my ogling obvious. The clothes she was wearing was the uniform of a local private high school. White blouse, grey pleated skirt, grey socks, and black and white saddle shoes. Alluringly innocent. Innocently alluring. Letting my eyes wander southward, I saw that she had lovely full legs, not like those of anorexic models or prepubescent girls, spindly and without form; hers were the legs of a woman, topped by beautifully formed hips and the ass only an 18-year-old could possess. My mind started to wander and I envisioned her in the short skirt of a field hockey player, thighs pumping and skirt swaying with each movement. Hell, if had to leave my office early just to wait in the interminable lines at the RMV, then I might as well have something pleasing to look at. 'What am I doing? How old can she be, you pervert?' I chastised myself for being such a lecher.

I logically thought that since she was at the RMV that meant that she was old enough to drive, so she had to be at least 16 1/2. However, the uniform suggested that she was still in high-school so she most likely was no more than 18. I had to be insane. This could have been the punchline to the old joke: sixteen will get you five to ten.

Then she turned to face me and spoke, freeing me from my inner turmoil for the moment, although catching me off guard, "These lines are really long, aren't they?"

Hardly the stuff of the Algonquin round-table but there was something about her voice; it was soothing and innocent and totally devoid of the cackle of the typical high school kid.

This was when I first noticed her face. Alabaster skin, blonde hair, and dark blue -- almost grey -- eyes. Their color was that of the western sky in the early hours of the morning, or the eastern sky just at twilight. That deep blue before the sun rises high enough to wash everything out or fades away to black. She had a bright face, full of life and looked to have a maturity that belied her youth. She also seemed to exude beauty. She was extremely attractive and I think I was becoming smitten -- yes, smitten described it nicely.

"Yeah. The registry is always like this," I smiled and responded not so intelligently. I was never any good at making small talk, and even less skilled at making casual banter with women, especially women I happened to be ogling at the time.

Still, she smiled and her eyes sparkled, and most of my feelings of social inadequacy vanished.

"Are you here for your driver's test?" I was actually interested in why she was there. Perhaps just so I could find something we could talk about together, my self-reproachful side thought.

"Oh no. I got my license last year," she giggled slightly, finding amusing the fact that I didn't realize that she was already old enough to be an experienced driver. "My parents bought me a car for graduation, and I'm getting it registered."

"That's nice. What kind of car is it?"

"A brand new Passat. That's a Volkswagen," she smiled excitedly but her tone wasn't that of a braggart. She obviously was overjoyed to be telling everyone who would listen about her new car. "What are you here for?" she asked tentatively, biting her lower lip, apparently more hesitant in asking me questions than revealing information about herself.

"Just renewing my license." This would be my sixth license; I suddenly felt ancient realizing that I was more than twice as old as my new friend.

"By the way, my name's Dan," I introduced myself.

"I'm Christine, but everyone calls me Chrissy," she smiled broadly and shook my hand firmly. She removed her hand slowly and the touch of her skin sent a shiver up my spine.

"That's a pretty name, Chrissy." What the fuck was I doing, flirting with a 17-year-old? Still, she was flirting with me, too; and it had been quite a few years since someone as young and pretty as Chrissy had flirted with me.

"Thanks," she beamed and began to blush. Her smile was genuine, open. It was a self-effusive smile that really lent a warmth to her character.

30

We reached an awkward point in the conversation but Chrissy didn't use the opportunity to turn around and face forward. Instead, she looked up at me smiling slightly, piercing me with her steel blue eyes, beseeching me to say something, anything. I couldn't turn away from her, but I couldn't think of anything to say. I'm an engineer, damn it; I don't talk to people, I write memos, I send e-mails. I did, however, find her charming and quite attractive and didn't want to look away, either.

Suddenly, out of the fog of my social ineptitude, a semi-intelligent thought popped into my mind, barely enabling me to continue the conversation. "Are you going to college next year?"

"Yeah, I'm going to Cornell." She gushed.

"Wow, I'm impressed." Pretty and intelligent. I was becoming more fascinated with this girl by the minute. Of course, the little head was doing more thinking than the big one. "What are you going to major in?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'm thinking about pre-law, but I'm also interested in economics."

"Well, you could always get your degree in economics and then go to law school." I offered.

"I never thought of that. I might do it that way. I won't have to declare a major until I'm a sophomore, anyway."

"Cornell's a great school," I understated. "But Ithaca gets pretty cold in the winter."

"I know," Chrissy smiled widely. "I love the snow." She paused, looking unsure about something; then she blurted out, "Did you go to college?"

At first blush, that question -- along with her hesitancy at asking it -- struck me as peculiar, but as I thought about it more it made sense on two fronts. First, to this point in her life, her college choice was probably the most important decision she and her friends ever made, and currently the focal point of many of their conversations, I was sure. Secondly, although I knew I went to college, she didn't and probably didn't want to offend me.

"Yes. BC '83. Mechanical engineering."

"Oh, wow! My best friend is going to BC," she said excitedly. "Math and science were my weakest areas. I struggled through AP Calc. this year. Physics wasn't much better, either." Her idea of struggling was probably different from most. Ivy league schools don't take kids who struggle. "So what do you do now, um, for a living?"

"I'm a senior engineer with Bartlesman and Davis, I mostly head projects now."

"That sounds cool."

"I like it, but I guess I'm kind of a geek." I chuckled.

"No way." She was emphatic. "I think you're cool. Not too many older ....I mean adults, would talk to a high school kid like this; you know, a strange girl in line at the RMV."

Her statement both pleased and saddened me. I was almost giddy that she found me engaging, but the word 'old' had come from her lips and that tends to put things into perspective. Old is one of those funny words that seems to be used only in the second and third person, never the first. He is old, you are old, they are old, but never I am old. But it was out there, for all to see. To her I was, indeed, old. Maybe I was, too, compared to her. After all, I graduated in '83 and she was going to be a member of a class in the next century; I graduated in a different millennium, for crying out loud -- that certainly put things into perspective.

"You're not a strange girl. I'm having a great time talking with you. This is the best time I've ever spent here."

She blushed and the corners of her mouth turned upward in that amazing smile of hers. "You're sweet, Dan."

At this point she was at the beginning of the line, turned and handed her papers to the clerk. The man behind the desk took them from her, made some entries into his computer, and said that she was all set and just had to pick up her plates from another line.

Chrissy turned and looked up at me, smiling.

"I'm almost done, Dan. I just have to get my plates. Thanks for talking to me." As she said that, she lightly touched my forearm, raising goosebumps from my shoulder to my wrist.

"No. Thank you Chrissy. Good luck at Cornell." I smiled at her as she headed off.

She walked to her new line as I stepped up and handed my papers to the clerk. He made some computer entries and told me to look into the vision testing machine. Apparently I passed, because he sent me to get my picture taken. Ten minutes later I had my new license in my hand, the Commonwealth once again giving me permission to operate heavy machinery for the next four years.
 
 

As I was heading for the exit, I noticed Chrissy hanging up the pay telephone. She had a distressed look on her face.

"Is something wrong, Chrissy?"

She brightened when she saw me. "No, not really. I just called my mother and she told me that she wouldn't be able pick me up. She wasn't at home, so I called her cell phone and she said that she had to take my little brother to the emergency room. He was playing baseball after school and she thinks he broke his finger. The ER is packed and they probably won't be out for a few hours. My dad's out of town on business so I'm stuck here until she can pick me up."

"That's too bad. If you want, I can give you a ride. I'll understand if you don't, though. There are a lot of crazy people in this world."

Chrissy knotted her face in confusion. "Thanks, I don't know if I should."

"That's ok. I really understand." I wanted nothing more than to spend time with this girl, but I fully understood her wariness. I smiled and held up my new license. "See, they say I can drive."

She laughed and her face relaxed. "Thanks. You've been so nice to me. But I live kind of far away. In Hingham, about 25 minutes."

"That's no problem, I'm out that way too. I live in Cohasset."

We walked out together and as we approached my car Chrissy squealed with excitement. "You have a convertible? I've never been in a convertible before. Can we put the top down?"

"Sure. It's pretty warm out today."

We pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road heading for the highway. Chrissy looked so pretty sitting in the passenger seat. Her long hair was blowing in the breeze and just a hint of her thighs showed where her skirt ended. I wanted her like I had never wanted anyone in my entire life and I couldn't have felt shittier about myself than I did at that moment.

It's not as if I was lonely. I'm a happily married man with three beautiful children. I had a nice, sane, secure life. I love my wife. The last thing I needed was to fuck up my family situation. But there was just something about Chrissy. She was both innocent and alluring at the same time. She ignited flames in me that I thought were long dead. I wanted her and I hated myself for it. Not that anything was going to happen with her, these were simply the delusional fantasies of a 36-year-old.

"Chrissy, if you live in Hingham, why were you at the RMV out here?" I wondered.

"Well, I go to prep school here at St. Mary's and I usually get a bus home, but today I walked to the registry from school and, like I said, my mother was going to pick me up."

"Did you transfer to St. Mary's for your senior year, or did you go for all four years?"

"I transferred for my senior year. It sucked...er, sorry. I mean, I didn't like the switch at all." She seemed slightly embarrassed to have used the word sucked. I was really impressed that she was mature enough that she would be concerned with her language, although 'sucked' is pretty tame as words go. 'She should hear me talk sometimes,' I thought to myself.

I chuckled and gave her my most reassuring smile. "It must have sucked going to a different school than all your friends."

She smiled at my acceptance of her. "Yeah. My best friend, Katie -- the one who's going to BC -- also transferred, so it wasn't too bad, and I've made a lot of new friends. And I still see a lot of my old friends on the weekend."

"That's good. Do you have a boyfriend." I asked, simply curious -- or was I?

"No," she looked wistfully out the window. "I did. We started going out last summer, but we broke up in November. I guess because I was going to school far away. I don't know. He was ok, I guess. Kind of immature, though. I needed to concentrate on school this year anyway."

"You have plenty of time for boyfriends. You'll have the guys eating out of your hands at Cornell."

"Thanks." Chrissy blushed and looked down with an ear to ear smile. "So Dan, are you married?"

"Yep. For almost twelve years."

"Do you have any kids?"

"Three. Two girls and a boy. Beth is nine, Patty is eight, and little Danny is almost a year. The joys of my life."

"That's nice." She said sweetly, seemingly genuinely interested in me talking about my family. For the next several minutes as we sat in traffic that wasn't going anywhere, we talked about our home lives.

I told her that my wife, Karen, had been an associate professor of European history at Northeastern before Danny was born. Karen had actually resumed her teaching career after Patty began preschool at age four, but then two years ago we were on vacation and Karen had forgotten to pack her birth control pills. We had made love the first night, before we knew of the forgotten pills, and as the next day was a Sunday, we were unable to get her prescription transferred to a local pharmacy until the next day. We crossed our fingers, but a week later Karen was throwing up at six in the morning and we knew we had better re-convert my office back into a nursery. Although, to be honest, I was very excited when we found out we were going to have a boy.

The conversation switched to school activities and among other things Chrissy told me that she was on the tennis team at St. Mary's.

"I was third team all-state in tennis when I was in high school. I played at BC too." I suppose I boasted. "Junior year I was undefeated in singles until I blew out my knee, and that was the end of my tennis career."

"That's so cool...I mean that you played tennis, not that you hurt your knee." Chrissy giggled. She really was adorable. She was so confident and mature, yet there was a refreshing touch of little girl in her that completed her perfectly. "I'm not that good though. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to play some doubles at Cornell. Do you play at all anymore?"

"I play a little, if I can get a partner. My knee really doesn't bother me anymore."

"I was wondering if maybe, um...you might want to play tennis with me someday?" Her question was tentative, hesitant.

"I'd love to. It would be fun." I said.

"Cool." She smiled broadly.

We rode the last several minutes in silence. Chrissy had closed her eyes and tilted her head skyward. The breeze, cooler now as we were close to the shore, was causing her hair to trail behind her, like a flag sitting high upon the mast of a clipper ship.

I also noticed another, more exciting, effect that the cool breeze was having. With Chrissy reclined as she was, her white blouse was pressed tightly against her small breasts and the cool air was causing her nipples to pucker through her shirt. She had lovely breasts and the little protuberances poking through the layers of material made Chrissy all the more seductive. I wondered if she knew the effect that she was having on me.

I tried to focus on the road as she directed me to her house. We pulled up in front of a nice Colonial in an upscale neighborhood. Chrissy reached down and grabbed her backpack as she prepared to exit the car.

"Dan, this was so nice of you. I can't thank you enough." Chrissy said, turning toward me.

"It was my pleasure. You were great company." I smiled

"Thanks," Chrissy said. "Hey, are we still on for tennis?"

"Sure. Here's my business card. Give me a call at the office."

"I will. Thanks again." Chrissy got out of the car and ran up the walkway to her house. I couldn't help but marvel at her legs as she was running away from me. They were so beautifully muscled in a sexy, healthy way and the way her calves and hamstrings rippled as she ran caused the stirrings of pressure in my groin..

She got to the door and turned and waved, and I tried to shove my lascivious thoughts to the back of my mind as I waved back and drove away.
 
 

While driving back toward home I got to thinking how silly I was becoming attracted to a 17-year-old. I was more than twice her age, and I was having all sorts of adolescent fantasies about her. I was really pathetic. She was no more interested in me than I was interested in my 75-year-old neighbor, Mrs. Bernard. Chrissy was just friendly and polite and was bored with the RMV, so we talked. Nothing more than that. I suppose after 12 years of marriage I needed to feel attractive to someone other than my wife. Male ego. Silly. Still, her attention made me feel better about myself than I had in a long time, so where was the harm in it?

And she wanted to play tennis with me. That wasn't just being polite, my ego told me. Hell, maybe she was interested in old, married men, I chuckled to myself.

At that point, my ego self-stroking was stopped in mid rub as I noticed her brand new license plates on the floor. They must have slid under the seat as we were driving and Chrissy forgot them. I turned around and headed back in the direction of her house, delighted that I was going to see her again, yet feeling pretty awkward about the whole thing nonetheless.

Chrissy answered the door looking nothing like I had left her. Now she was dressed in a green one-piece bathing suit, pasted to her body with water. And if I had thought she was pretty before, now she was absolutely gorgeous. Her body was fantastic; tight and curved in all the right places. Her wet blonde hair shot straight down to the middle of her back and it accentuated her beauty even more, if that was possible. Much the way models have a sultry, alluring quality when they're photographed while dripping wet, Chrissy had the same effect on me. She greeted me with a smile, but in all frankness I think I stared at her beautiful form for a few seconds too long, oblivious to whatever it was that she was saying.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I muttered, embarrassed that she caught me staring. "You forgot your plates, I didn't want you to have to wait another day to get your car on the road."

"Oh thanks, Dan. That was so nice of you." She gushed then paused and continued. "I was just having some iced tea by the pool. Would you, um, like something to drink while you're here?" Her eyes implored me and I couldn't refuse.

"Sure, iced tea would be great," I said, following her into the house.

She got me my drink and told me to join her out by her pool. It really wasn't so much a question as it was a directive. Her pool area was very well kept, with a nicely trimmed lawn and beautifully manicured gardens. It was a peaceful, relaxing setting and I found myself becoming comfortable very quickly.

We sat and talked some more about inconsequential things. I know that I was just filling in with mostly inane conversation, just to keep from running up against the awkward pause and I was quite sure that she was doing the same. Still, the backing and filling of the conversation could only last for so long, and we inevitably reached the point at which we both wanted to say something, yet neither one of us could come up with anything that could pass the 'how moronic does it sound' test.

But sweet Chrissy saved us as only a kid could, I suppose. She put her glass down on the table, gave me a mischievous look and took a cannonball leap into the pool, splashing me in the process and fairly wetting the shirt, tie, and pants I was wearing.

"Did I do that?" Chrissy asked in her most angelic voice, trying to hide her grin.

"You're lucky I'm dressed like this, or I'd be forced to dunk you until you begged for mercy." I joked.

Chrissy laughed and jumped out of the pool and stuck her tongue out at me and said, "First you'd have to catch me." With that she kicked some water off her foot in my general direction and squealed in laughter as she ran away from me.

The challenge was laid down, and, if for no other reason than I was having such a great time with her, I took up the hunt in her expansive back yard. I chased her around several old growth oaks and maples as Chrissy shrieked and giggled as I came close to catching her on several occasions. I followed her to the far corner of her yard where I cornered her near the eight-foot stockade fence which divided her yard from the neighbor's.

She feigned fear of her impending capture, but her eyes were shouting joys of laughter as I approached. I grabbed her in my arms, which startled her for an instant, and lifted up her squirming body.

"Now we'll see who gets dunked, smartypants." I kidded.

"Oh please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it." She giggled as she overtly batted her eyelashes at me. While flashing her eyes innocently she grasped me around my neck as I cradled her lithe body, carrying her toward the pool.

"Oh you're going to get it, all right." I said with less conviction, slowing my pace while staring into her beautiful eyes, just inches from my own.

"What am I going to get?" Chrissy's voice was barely audible, no more than a whisper. I could hear her breath now, deep and heavy as she leaned her head on my shoulder.

"Well, you have been a naughty girl." My voice was weak as well, and I could feel the nervousness creep upward from my feet as I knew we were about to pass the point of no return.

Chrissy was filled with anticipation as she looked up at me, her steel blue eyes as big as saucers. I knew that she was too timid to take any initiative herself so I gently placed her on a chaise lounge and gave her a tentative kiss on her lips.
 
 

A first kiss is always a leap of faith. You never truly know if the time is right and the doubts begin with the moment you decide to venture forward into the breach. Yet there are few things in life as sweet or as pleasurable as the first kiss with a new love. And so it was with the first time I kissed Chrissy. When my lips brushed hers, I could hear an audible sigh escape from her nose, and Chrissy's lips tenderly sought mine out.

I really didn't know for how long the kiss lasted. I closed my eyes shortly after it began and was oblivious to the rest of the world. The only thing that existed for me was Chrissy. We were lost in each other. We embraced tenderly. I lightly caressed her thigh as she wrapped her arms around my neck. Our lips intertwined and they tenderly danced with each other. For fear of waking up from this wonderful dream -- or at least the fear of being confronted with reality -- neither one of us dared release the kiss.

I climbed next to her on the lounge chair as I kissed her again, extending my tongue with some hesitancy. Chrissy eagerly accepted it into her mouth, wrestling it with her own tongue. Our tongues dueled a hidden battle beneath the cover of our lips and, after many long minutes, it was only our sheer exhaustion that forced the ending of our passionate kiss.

This was the point at which reality set in, and my guilt over kissing a girl half my age went to the forefront of my mind. What bothered me most of all was how thoroughly and completely I enjoyed it. Chrissy wasn't a great kisser, nor was she terrible. I wondered if the fact that she wasn't such a great kisser made me feel better because she didn't have a lot of experience, or worse, because she was so innocent. I suppose that on some level we all want the women we're with to have just enough experience to know what to do, but not so much that it's intimidating. There is probably, for most of us, a psychological comfort zone of experience in which we're comfortable to enjoy our partners fully. A girl below the zone is too innocent for us to enjoy fully what we're doing and above which she's too experienced for us to feel that our being with her is a special event. I would imagine that the zone for different people varies greatly in what is considered above and below the acceptable levels of experience; but I would think to some degree everyone has one.

Although I fully enjoyed making out with Chrissy, I feared that she was probably pushing the limits of the lower boundary, and my guilt at this was weighty, to say the least. "Chrissy, I'm sorry....I didn't mean..." I was tongue tied, and not because the beautiful girl beside me had worn it out with hers.

Chrissy looked up at me with a most peculiar expression. It was almost one of reverence. I didn't know whether to kiss her again, or to run as far away as possible.

"Shhh. Dan. That was wonderful. That was the most amazing kiss I've ever had." She blushed, "not that I've kissed too many guys."

She looked deep into my eyes and I knew running wasn't an option. I dismissed whatever reservations I had and kissed her again, more passionately, with more urgency and she responded in kind. Our tongues entwined again as our hands began to roam over each other's bodies.

I tentatively reached out for her breast, and as if to answer my question, she thrust her chest out, pushing it into my palm. Her small breast was maybe the size of a baseball -- and quite firm -- and felt wonderful in my hand. Its nipple was rock solid and I loved the feeling of rubbing my thumb over the protrusion. Meanwhile, Chrissy forced her thigh in between my legs and began dry humping me for all she was worth. My hard cock, bent awkwardly under the confines of my clothing, pressed agonizingly against her leg as she ground her pubic mound against me. If this had kept up for too long, I was going to come in my pants.

Trying to regain some composure, I broke the kiss and said, "Maybe we'd be a bit more comfortable in your room."

Chrissy smiled wanly, but looked down. "Dan, I...I've never done that before."

Her face turned several shades of crimson and I felt like a jerk. "I'm sorry. I guess I just figured...I mean kids today...I don't know what I mean."

I felt terrible, propositioning someone as sweet and young as Chrissy -- a virgin no less -- for sex in her parents house. At that point I felt that the slugs that crawl around on their bellies wouldn't even want to associate with me. I was frozen in my tracks, too afraid to slink away, too embarrassed to stay.

She chuckled lightly easing the tension somewhat, "I never wanted to just do it. I wanted it to be special. It's not like I've had this fantasy of waiting for my wedding night or anything like that. I just didn't want to rush into it just for the sake of doing it, and then regret it."

I began to get up from the chaise, my erection now thoroughly deflated. I spoke in an apologetic tone. "I didn't mean to put any pressure on you. If you've wanted to wait for someone special..."

I was cut off in mid-sentence by her, "No, Dan wait. I didn't mean it like that. I do want it be with someone special, but I'm just not ready today, ok." She stroked my arm as I sat next to her. "I don't want you to think I was being a tease. That's the last thing in the world I want to do. I really like you Dan. It's crazy, I've only known you for a couple of hours, but I feel as if I've known you for all my life. I can't explain it. I'm just so attracted to you....and when I'm ready -- if you'll still have anything to do with me -- I think you're someone very special." Chrissy looked up at me hopefully and I knew I was in way over my head. But I didn't care. I knew that I could wait an eternity to have her.

I took her hand in both of mine and stroked it delicately. I brought it up to my lips and gave it a tender kiss.

"I hope you know what you're getting involved with, Chrissy, because I have a funny feeling you're stuck with me for a while." I smiled.

Chrissy beamed and hugged me tightly. "You don't know how happy I am to hear that."

For the next several minutes -- or was it days, months, years -- we hugged and kissed tenderly, gradually becoming accustomed to the feel of each other's body.

I realized the time and looked at Chrissy with seriousness. "I hate to run, but your mother will be getting home soon, and I think we'd have a tough time explaining what I'm doing here." I laughed.

"Especially with you as wet as you are," she laughed.

We got up together and she walked me into the house and to the front door. We kissed again, this time different from our previous kisses -- as if we were sealing an agreement or cementing our new relationship.

"You know Chrissy, maybe you might think this is a mistake and..."

She placed her finger to my lips to silence me. "Shhh. You're not going to get rid of me that easily." She grinned slyly.

I smiled and kissed her lightly as I prepared to open the door. "When can I see you again?" I wondered.

"We'll think of something. I'll give you a call at work, or send you an E-mail."

"Good. I can't wait to hear from you. Bye."

I walked out the door, feeling a skip in my step that I hadn't felt in years. I turned to look back at the house and Chrissy was leaning against the door, looking at me smiling. I waved and turned back, heading for my car with my only thoughts being of Chrissy.
 
 

As I drove home from Chrissy's house, my feelings of guilt were increasing in inverse proportion to the distance I was from my house. I wracked my brain for a reason why I was considering an affair with Chrissy. Yes, she was pretty and vivacious and had an absolutely gorgeous body, but a lot of women were like that, and I'd never considered anything like this before. Perhaps it was because she was so young. Well, that's not entirely true -- perhaps it was because the fact that a 17-year-old was attracted to me made me feel young again. I'd only spent a couple of hours with her, but she made me feel more alive than I'd felt in years.

But what of my wife and family, I wondered. Surely they were too important to me to risk doing anything to hurt them. But what would the chance be that my wife would find out? Chrissy was going away to school in September, and that would be the end of that -- if it even lasted that long.

As I got closer to home, my guilt was overwhelming and I resolved to break things off with Chrissy before we got in too deep. I was a 36-year-old married man who was -- and this was important -- not at all unhappy with his own life. Yes I decided, when Chrissy called, I needed to tell her that we were making a big mistake and the best thing to do would be to end it before anyone got hurt.

My reverie was snapped as I found myself absentmindedly pulling into my driveway. I felt guilty as hell as I was about to face my wife. As I walked around to the back yard I realized that to compound the problem, I had to think of something to tell her for why my clothes were all wet.

"Daddy. Hi daddy." My two daughters yelled to me.

"Hey kids, having fun in the pool?"

"Yeah. Mom's in the kitchen making dinner." Beth answered and then turned to continue playing with Patty.

I walked through the French doors on our deck into the kitchen where Karen was pounding flat some chicken breasts. I looked at her a little longer than normal for someone married as long as I'd been. Her shoulder length brown hair was tied in a little ponytail that I found so attractive. There were little wisps that escaped the band's embrace as they gently framed her still beautiful face. Her figure, while no longer the tight form I remembered from when I first met her at 22 -- giving birth to three kids will have that effect -- was still, to me, as beautiful as ever. Her legs, exposed below the shorts she was wearing, were as sexy as I could remember. And while her ass wasn't quite as firm as I once remembered it to be, it was still quite shapely and the slight added curviness just accentuated its sexiness.

She interrupted my ogling. "Hi honey, how was your d...what the hell happened to your clothes?" Karen asked chuckling.

"Oh, the wetness...those morons at Papa Gino's had their lawn sprinkler facing the street. I had the top down and was stopped at the light while the sprinkler doused me." I laughed to hide my nervousness in hopes that she wouldn't see through my lie.

Karen chortled at my fabricated misfortune. "Why don't you go upstairs and change and join the girls in the pool. Supper won't be ready for about an hour."

"I think I will. It's awfully hot for May."

"Be quiet though, I just put the baby down for his nap about twenty minutes ago."
 
 

After the kids went to bed, Karen went to lie down in our bed to watch television while I went into my study to get a little work done. I needed to send an E-mail to a colleague about the schedule for a project we were working on. I also, with a little tentativeness, checked my own in-box to see whether or not I received an E-mail from Chrissy. I'm not sure whether I was relieved or disappointed that none of the E-mails was from her. How old was I anyway? I was beginning to think that I was the one in high-school, checking the E-mail like some love sick kid. And I still wasn't sure what I wanted either. Chrissy excited me more than I could imagine but my guilt led me to thoughts of my wife and I knew I still loved her.

I was going to attempt to get some work done, but all of my conflicting thoughts were causing too much confusion for me to think straight. Turning off the computer, I went to lie down with my wife. I made small talk about the program that she was watching, hoping to God that my secret wasn't transparent.

"You're in bed early. No work tonight?" Karen asked.

"It'll wait for tomorrow. I thought we could...snuggle a little." I said.

"And what makes you think I'm in the mood to...snuggle?" She giggled.

Karen's most sensitive area is her neck; and nothing arouses her more than being licked there. This was where I first directed my attentions and within a few seconds Karen was writhing on the bed, moaning through her nose. When I added nibbling her ear lobe, she went over the edge, shooting her hand out for my hardening cock and fishing it out of my shorts. I abandoned her neck as we started to kiss hungrily. With our lips and tongues intertwined, I reached out for her breast, marveling at the way her nipples always swelled at the slightest touch.

My mind wandered a bit at this point as I reflected on the feel of Karen's breasts compared with Chrissy's. From what little contact I had with them, Chrissy's were smaller and a little firmer than my wife's. Karen's breasts were a little more than a handful and they always seemed to fit nicely in my palms. Her nipples were also much more responsive, but in fairness to Chrissy, I hadn't really spent a lot of time fondling her breasts.

What the fuck was I doing, my mind screamed at me. Here I was immersed in foreplay with my wife, and I couldn't help but think about a teenaged girl I'd known for half a day; comparing her breasts with my wife's for christsakes. I had to end this thing with Chrissy before I was too far gone. This was going to eat me up alive. I fought to force all thoughts of Chrissy out of my mind as I struggled to focus my attentions solely on my lovely wife beside me.

I slid down the bed and removed her pajama shorts and lowered my face to her lush vulva. Her lips were already wet and swollen due to our heavy petting and I lapped up her juice greedily. I loved the deep musky smell of her excited sex, and inhaling it never failed to get me excited. I traced my tongue up and down her labia and just teased her hooded clit. I thrust my tongue into her vagina and twirled it around as best I could. Karen was squirming beneath me and pushed her hands down on my head, urging me on. I removed my tongue and licked up her overflowing river. I raised her legs and Karen quickly got the hint. I began fingering her clitoris as I lowered my tongue to her nether hole and began licking it. This always drove her over the edge. It was only a matter of a couple of minutes of anal rimming and fingering her clit until she was panting and gasping in orgasm. As it often did, Karen's orgasm lasted for about five minutes straight and I continued working on both holes until she could take no more and pushed my head away, giggling and gasping for breath.

I slid up the bed next to her and we wrapped our arms around each other, kissing tenderly. Karen broke the kiss and had a little gleam in her eye as she pushed me flat on my back and proceeded to straddle my hips. She grabbed my erect cock and placed it just under her entrance as she lowered herself and engulfed me completely. I could feel the walls of my wife's pussy stretch as my prick inched its way upward. When I bottomed out -- or topped out, in this case -- Karen coyly smiled at me as she began to squeeze my cock with her internal muscles. When she was younger, she used to be very good at that and it always gave me such intense feelings, but having three children does a lot to the vaginal muscles, I suppose. She knows that I've always liked it and although she's not nearly as talented in that regard anymore, I think it's special that she still makes the effort.

Karen leaned over, letting her breasts hang pendulously over my face. She rocked her pussy back and forth on my cock as I alternated between her two beautiful swinging globes, sucking first the left and then the right one into my mouth. She knew that I always got a special thrill sucking her breasts. I suppose I have a bit of a breast fetish; nothing overt and consuming, but I loved to suckle on my wife's breasts. And since she was still breast-feeding little Danny, this feeling was made even more special. The feeling of drinking the sweet flavor of mothers' milk was intoxicating to me and always seemed to shift my excitement into overdrive.

Tonight was no exception. At the first taste of Karen's milk passing my lips I disrupted my wife's rocking rhythm by thrusting up as forcefully as I could into her vagina. Our hips were meeting in violent collisions as I could feel the familiar tingle start to boil up from my toes. The pace of our furious fucking threw me off the suckling of Karen's breast as we breathlessly pounded our pelvises together. My cock reached its boiling point and its semen shot into Karen's awaiting pussy in pleasurable wave after wave. Karen, too, stiffened and I could tell by the pattern of her moaning and breathing that she was also at the apex of her pleasure.
 
 

We lay back on the bed breathing heavily, trying to catch our breath in the aftermath of incredibly physical sex. After a couple of minutes of silence Karen spoke.

"What got into you tonight, tiger?"

I chuckled at her use of the word 'tiger', it wasn't a common nickname she had for me, rather it was one she seemed to use when I 'performed' particularly enthusiastically.

"Oh, I don't know. When I got home tonight, I was looking at you making dinner, and you looked really sexy in those shorts and with your hair up in a pony tail. I guess you got me going then." It wasn't exactly a lie. I did find her sexy when I walked in. In addition, though, I was also a bit fired up after playing tongue hockey with Chrissy for an hour; it also didn't hurt that I was feeling guilty about my interest in another woman.

"You lie so bad." Karen said whimsically.

"What do you mean?" I stammered and my face turned ashen.

" 'You looked sexy in your shorts'," she mocked. "Bullshit. On your way home you must have seen some hot young girl wearing something far too tight and skimpy for her own good and couldn't get her out of your dirty little mind." Karen laughed.

I smiled broadly and was relieved that my secret was safe...for now. "What? I can't find my beautiful wife sexy?" I decided to take the offensive, I felt it would prevent me from giving anything away.

"Oh, Mr. Kleine, of course you can," Karen said, her voice dripping with saccharine. Then she continued with much more sincerity. "And I do love it when you say those things, even if you are lying. And I love you too -- TIGER."

Karen rolled over and kissed me as we said our good nights. It was only a matter of a minute or two before I detected her breathing settle into a steady rhythmic pattern. Sleep, for me, would not come as easily, however. How did my life get so complicated in one day? Yesterday, things were so much simpler. As the song said: all my troubles seemed so far away.

Surely I couldn't pursue a relationship with Chrissy. Yes, I was enamored with her, and she was an incredibly exciting young woman. But I was a married man, and very much in love with my wife, to boot. Moreover, I wasn't the type of person to have an affair. Although I supposed that you really couldn't pigeonhole people into neat and tidy categories like that so easily. More specifically, I wasn't the type of person who could betray the love and trust of my wife. Yes, I didn't often help out around the house. I had projects that I was supposed to get done that I'd let languish for months. Working seemed to come much easier for me than dealing with a lot of things at home that I should have. Our marriage wasn't perfect, but whose is?

But an affair was a whole different animal. Those other things were what could be said made me a bad husband, an affair would make me a bad person.

I got up from bed. I don't know whether it was because I couldn't sleep, or if it was because I felt guilty lying next to Karen. I knew that I didn't want to hurt her, but I couldn't get thoughts of Chrissy from my head, either.

I walked down the hall and looked in on Beth, sleeping as peacefully as an angel. Then I walked into Patty's room and chuckled as I saw the blankets in between her legs. Ever since she was a little girl, no matter the temperature, Patty has always slept on her side with her blankets stuffed between her upper and lower leg. Then I silently entered Danny's room. He had only been sleeping through the night for about a month, so I tried to be extra quiet lest I have the company of an eleven-month-old for the next hour or so.

I tiptoed out of his room and walked downstairs to the kitchen to get something to drink. I reflected about my wife and three kids, the four people in the world who mean the most to me. They were also the four people in the world who would be most affected by an affair with Chrissy. How could I do that to them? I'm sure people who have affairs convince themselves that they won't get caught. But they always seem to, don't they? Maybe not today or maybe not tomorrow, but eventually they do and it's always ugly and painful for all involved. I couldn't live with myself if I hurt any of them.

I headed back upstairs as I continued my musings. Karen and I had been through so much together. Parents' deaths, family problems, kids' sicknesses, money problems. But we weathered them all -- together. We loved each other wholly, completely; I couldn't risk losing that. How could I turn my back on her like that? Chrissy was sexy and cute as hell, but what kind of an idiot would screw up twelve happy years of marriage for a few rolls in the hay with a teenager? Yes, she was a babe, but not worth losing my entire family for. I relaxed for the first time all night as I resolved to explain all of this to Chrissy when -- if -- she called me.

When I got back in bed, I looked at Karen sleeping so tranquilly. Sleep came much more easily to me on this second attempt of the night, relieved that I had seemingly resolved my situation in my mind.
 
 

Over the next couple of days my thoughts of Chrissy began to diminish, taking up more space in the thirty-something-guys-part- of-brain-reserved-for-delusions, and less space in the more lucid centers of my mind. She had not called, and obviously had thought things over a bit more rationally too.

I was beginning to think that I wouldn't even have to find a way to let her down easily. This was going to be much easier for me than I expected. Here's a switch for the ego: I was actually relieved at being rejected. My, what a mature and emotionally secure man I was, I chuckled to myself.

All of my smug self-confidence came to a screeching halt when I got back into my office from a project meeting just after three o'clock on Thursday afternoon. I checked in with my secretary for my messages, as I always did, and among the three slips of paper was a message from a Ms. Christine Miller.

So much for being mature and emotionally secure. When I walked into my office I was a sweating, palpitating mess. If my secretary noticed anything amiss with me, she didn't let on. She was a rather severe woman, whom I thought had not cracked a smile, or shown any emotion, since Johnson was president. But I know I was visibly shaken. I quickly returned the two work related calls, putting off Chrissy's call for as long as possible. Procrastination is the better part of valor -- or something like that. I was in favor of anything that allowed me to put off calling Chrissy, even if it was a mal-adapted aphorism.

Forty minutes later the message was still on the center of my desk. If my eyes were lasers I would have long before ignited the paper into flames and bore a gaping hole in my desktop. Having done nothing but stare at the paper for all that time, I decided that I was being ridiculous and no good was being served by putting this off any longer. I wasn't looking forward to telling Chrissy that whatever it was we had was over, but the sooner I did it the better for all involved.

I dialed the number on the message and could hear my heart pounding in my chest as the phone was ringing.

"Hello."

"Hi, Chrissy. It's me Dan."

"Hi Dan! I'm glad you called back. I hope you weren't too busy." Chrissy's voice was lilting and sweet. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Not really. I was in a meeting until a few minutes ago," I lied. "But the rest of my afternoon is pretty free."

"Oh Good. I was thinking about how we were, um, talking about playing tennis." Chrissy's voice trailed off.

"You know Chrissy. I was thinking about what happened the other day, and I'm not so sure that it's -- well, you know -- is such a good idea...." I couldn't finish my words.

"Oh God, me too. That's kind of why I've put off calling you for a couple of days. I mean, you're married and I'm still in high school -- well for another couple of weeks anyway." She laughed and seemed relieved. "I would like to get together to play tennis sometime and.....talk about what happened, though, if that's all right. We just can't pretend that it didn't happen." Her voice was apprehensive.

I was very relieved. Chrissy had let herself down for me. She realized that what we were considering was a big mistake too. I was even more impressed with her maturity.

"You know what? I'd love to play tennis."

"Great, when do you want to play?" Chrissy asked.

"Well, Karen is taking the kids to visit her mother Saturday afternoon, is that good for you?"

"Yeah. Saturday is great. How about one at Cramby park?"

"Terrific. I can't wait. I'll see you then." I said.

"Bye. See you Saturday." Chrissy said.

I hung up the phone and it seemed as if a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. No longer did I have to worry about endangering my marriage, and to make things even easier for me Chrissy had come to the same conclusion about our now preempted relationship. I was relieved and could now focus my mental energies on the more routine and mundane aspects of my life.
 
 

The rest of the week seemed to fly by, now that my mind wasn't constantly preoccupied with the 'Chrissy dilemma,' as I had begun to think of it. I had tried on a couple of occasions over the previous few days to think about how to bring up what we needed to talk about, but nothing concrete came to mind and I didn't dwell on it.

Saturday morning greeted us with temperatures in the mid-60's that were expected to rise to the 70's with very low humidity. It would be a perfect day for tennis. Karen got the kids ready to visit their grandmother, while I took the opportunity of the mild morning weather to mow the lawn. I rarely went over to my mother-in-law's house. It's not as if we disliked each other, in fact our relationship was as good now as it had ever been. But Lillian was one of those women who remembers that she's was angry long after she's forgotten what she was angry about.

What she had been most angry about was our 'mixed marriage' as she had put it. Karen's family was Roman Catholic and her mother was furious because Karen was going to marry a -- gasp -- Presbyterian. Even Lillian's priest brother didn't have as big a problem with the marriage as she did. We assured her that any children would, of course, be raised Catholic. She at least became civil to me, mollified that our children weren't going to be 'little heathens', as she had once put it. This wasn't a great concession on my part, though. I had never been overly religious myself, and it was just as easy for me if Karen would deal with those issues.

Karen's father, on the other hand, and I became fast friends from almost the first time we met. Both big Red Sox fans, Harry and I used to go to several games a year. We also had played golf from time to time and generally got along as well as any son-in-law and father-in-law could hope to. Harry was like a surrogate father to me, since my own parents had retired to Florida the year after I graduated from Boston College. His death three years ago hit me almost as hard as it hit Karen and one of the saddest things was that he never got to know his grandson, Danny.

Karen now spent a lot of time helping her mother out around her house and running errands for her. Saddled with arthritis, Lillian used to rely heavily on Harry to drive her everywhere and do a lot of things around the house, but since his death she's needed a lot of help. There were some weeks that it seemed that Karen spent more time at Lillian's house as she did at ours. Today was one of those days where she was going to take her mother grocery shopping and clean her house for her.

As I was changing Danny's diaper, she had asked me what I was going to do today, and I told her that I was going to play tennis with a friend -- though, which friend never came up. I know I was skating a thin ethical line, but I hadn't really lied to her, I tried to convince myself. I finished the lawn about an hour after Karen and the kids left for my mother in law's house and then I got ready to meet Chrissy at the tennis court.

I was a little apprehensive on the ride to Hingham to meet Chrissy at the park. Sure, we had both agreed that it was a mistake for us to be together, but there was no hiding the fact that I found Chrissy extremely attractive. Looking out toward the water as I drove along route 3A, I was just hoping that everything wouldn't be too awkward with Chrissy. How ironic that would be, since the day when Chrissy and I met everything was just so comfortable.

As I approached the parking lot near the courts, I noticed that a red Volkswagen Passat was the lone car there. Pulling in, I looked to the courts and saw Chrissy taking some practice serves against an invisible opponent. She was wearing a simple white t-shirt and a pair of spandex shorts that looked as if they were painted on her legs. To top it off, a long blonde ponytail stuck out the back of a baseball cap. God, she was gorgeous. This was not going to be easy.
 
 

"Hey, Chrissy." I called to her as I walked to the court.

She spun around, smiling brightly, and waved her racket at me. "Hi Dan, how are you doing?"

"Not too bad. You?" At this point, I had walked up to her and we had our first uncomfortable moment. This was something I hadn't considered. Monday when we left each other, we had finished about an hour of tonsil hockey. But after deciding the whole thing was a big mistake, a lip lock would not be an appropriate greeting today. Neither, however, would a handshake.

Chrissy, true to form as the more mature -- or at least confident -- of the two of us, stepped up and gave me a friendly hug hello. It was a nice 'uncle' hug that acknowledged our friendliness, yet placed a healthy border between the two of us, establishing our 'relationship boundaries' better than words could ever work out. Still, the feel of her firm body against mine made me question my resolve not to get involved with her.

We talked for a little while, mostly about nothing, and then decided to hit some practice balls back and forth to warm up. It was apparent to me after a few strokes that Chrissy would be a formidable opponent -- hell, she was going to work my ass off. In truth, the past several years I hadn't played much tennis at all. I had been a very good player in my college days, but those were 16 years and one major knee operation ago. Lately, my only play has been against my daughters, whom I'd been teaching for about a year or two. They were getting much better too, especially Beth -- she seemed to have a real aptitude and love of the game whereas Patty played because she had some fun and it gave her a chance to spend some time with daddy. However, their improvement had been at the expense of my game. There's nothing that will deteriorate athletic skills like playing at the level of beginners. That didn't bother me in the least, though; the loss of tennis ability was nothing compared with the great time I had with my girls. What it did mean, in today's context however, was that I was going to have my hands full in my game against Chrissy.

We decided to play a best-of-three match, which in retrospect worked out well for me. I think if I had to play five sets, they would have had to cart me off in an ambulance.

In terms of skill level, Chrissy wasn't that much better than me. In fact, I probably had more tennis skill than she did. The difference in our play was that Chrissy was in so much better shape than me. The phrase 'ran circles around me' came to mind. For the entire three sets, she ran me ragged with relentless ground strokes. When it was my serve, I tried to use power to make the points as short as possible, but whenever she could, Chrissy would try to get me in long protracted rallies, which served to exhaust me.

As the match went on, I found myself getting progressively sloppier on my points. I won the first set 6-2, and led in the second 4-1, but at that point had just about reached the limits of my endurance and ended up losing 7-5. By the third set, I was running on fumes and Chrissy beat me easily, 6-3. Actually, I was fairly pleased with my play. Chrissy had been the most serious competition I'd faced in well over a year and I played her pretty evenly. I snickered ruefully to myself as I thought of my underused 36-year-old joints and muscles that I'd have a tough time walking for the next couple of days.

"Wow, that was tough. You played well." Chrissy joined me on my side of the net, smiling.

"Yeah. You're being kind, too." I panted through sips from a water bottle as I leaned against the fence.

"What? I'm serious. You're really good. You just got winded at the end." Chrissy rubbed my upper arm in consolation. Even through my exhaustion, the delicate touch raised my spirits and, yes, excited me a little, too.

"I suppose not too bad for an old man." I joked and Chrissy giggled slightly.

We each rested in silence against the fence, diffidently, neither one of us wanting to discuss what I know was foremost on my mind and I guessed was on hers too. Finally, not wanting her to hold exclusivity rights to maturity, I found the nerve to broach the subject.

"I suppose that we, uh, need to talk, huh." I said matter-of-factly. Sometimes I can sound like a real idiot.

"Yeah, we should." Chrissy smiled wanly.

I may have brought up the subject, but I was hardly prepared to continue it beyond stating the obvious that we did, indeed, need to talk. Things were getting too dour, anyway, and I decided to try to artificially boost the mood a little. "Hey. Why don't we go get something cold to drink and go somewhere else to talk. What do you say?" I tried to sound as buoyant as possible.
 
 

She agreed and we left in our respective cars. We went to a convenience store and picked up a couple of sodas and proceeded to a section of town beach that Chrissy thought would be somewhat deserted. Most of the regular beachgoers had long foregone this area of the beach in favor of much more sandy shores to the north. This was, in fact, a nice beach but for the over abundance of rocks that lined the water. This made the walk from sandy shore to water painful at worst, extremely uncomfortable at best, so this section was really only used on the busiest of summertime beach days.

Chrissy and I parked our cars and found ourselves on a virtually deserted section of beautiful beach. As Chrissy got out of her car, I noticed that she had taken her hat off and allowed her blonde hair to hang freely over her shoulders. Something about this look just made her seem older, more worldly.

"You were right, Chris. Nobody's here." I observed.

Chrissy smiled appreciatively. "I know most of the kids at school don't like it because of the rocks."

"We always used to come here when I was in high school. Of course the town hadn't cleared away all of the crap up there." I indicated the general direction of the more popular, and populous, beach to the north.

"I like this. It's so peaceful." Chrissy said as we removed our sneakers and socks and started to walk up the beach.

"Me too. The sunrise off the Atlantic is beautiful in the morning."

"You've spent the night at the beach?" Chrissy asked with surprise.

I laughed. "On more than one occasion. I probably shouldn't tell you this, but this is where I came with my date after the prom. Boy, did we get hell for that." I recollected fondly.

"Really? Now this is getting interesting." Chrissy turned toward me and winked obviously. She was at once half-pixie, half-enchantress.

"Well, there's not much to tell. My friend Jeff and I came here after the prom. There were no school-sponsored parties in those days." I winced a little at the age difference between Chrissy and me.

"Your prom date was your friend Jeff ?" Chrissy teased me with a look of mock astonishment. She really had a great sense of humor.

I laughed. "No, wiseguy. We brought our dates here." I clarified. "Anyway, we brought the girls here with some blankets and a couple of bottles of wine. Well, the two Romeos that we were, we all ended getting drunk and we all fell asleep." I chuckled at my misadventure. "But I woke up in the morning with the first light. My girlfriend woke up just as a tip of the sun was peeking over the horizon and we just watched it rise together, arm in arm. It was really nice." I looked out toward the ocean, remembering a simpler time.

"That's so romantic." Chrissy said softly. "I wish we had been in high school together."

I smiled at Chrissy, looking up at me. Her angelic face was seemingly trying to pierce through me. I thought about her previous statement, and things would, indeed, have been much simpler if we had known each other in different times. But we had to play the cards we were dealt, and unfortunately, my hand was dealt about 18 years before Chrissy's.

"I suppose we should talk about what happened the other day." I pried my eyes from her, afraid to make eye contact.

Sitting on the sand and extending my arm, I indicated for her to join me. She plopped herself down next to me with her knees to her chest and arms wrapped around her legs, almost in the fetal position. She appeared nervous, as if she was dreading this talk. I noted sadly that it was a look comparable to that a child will get when about to be given a lecture from a parent.

I really didn't know where to begin. I had thought for a couple of days about what I'd say to Chrissy at this moment, but, to be honest, I couldn't think of anything coherent.

We sat there, just staring out at the ocean for what seemed like hours. The sound of the waves gently rolling to shore was all that pierced the unbearable silence. My thoughts were as scattered as the breeze, at one moment thinking about the day in Chrissy's back yard, at the next picturing my three children. I was truly a man in over his head.

"Dan," Chrissy shattered the silence in a fragile tone. "I don't know why what happened the other day did, but I don't regret it. And I'm not upset at you, at all. I was really the one who came onto you." She looked down and her tone softened even more, if that was possible. "I don't know why I wanted to fool around with you the other day, I just did. I mean, you're good looking, and I find you really attractive. But you need to know that I'm not the type of girl who goes around doing that sort of thing."

"Believe me, neither do I." I said, venturing a gaze in her direction. "I'm not the type of guy who goes around kissing beautiful teenaged girls -- or any age girls for that matter. There was just something about you. You're incredibly pretty and intelligent and spending time with you was so much fun -- and not just the kissing, either.....and I suppose that being with you made me feel a little younger, too. I think it's been a long time since a young woman has found me attractive." I snickered.

Chrissy had blushed when I called her beautiful, but I meant it. I thought that she was as pretty and sexy as any teenager I'd seen in quite a long time.

Chrissy laughed and tilted her head upward to look at me. Her steel blue eyes were locking in on mine. Despite all of my misgivings, I couldn't help but be extremely drawn to her.

"I've never felt as good, or as special, as I did when we were kissing." She gazed up at me tenderly. "You don't know how close I was to making love to you."

What could I say at that point? I wanted to tell her how wonderful it was for me too, but she dazed me with the last thing she said. My estimation of her increased even more so that she used the phrase 'making love' instead of 'having sex', 'doing it', or even the more pedestrian 'fucking'. I don't know why that did it for me, there was just something innocent and wholesome about her when she said it. As if she genuinely did treat it as the 'special' event that she told me she wanted it to be.

"To be honest," I looked down, almost embarrassed to admit my weakness, "I had a tough time leaving too. I felt guilty that I put some pressure on you-- well, put you in an awkward spot anyway. But if you weren't a, you know, a ..."

Chrissy cut me off, laughing. "Virgin. You can say it. Your tongue won't fall out."

"VIRGIN. See, I can say it." I made a funny face and she stuck her tongue out at me. "If you weren't a virgin, I would have been very tough to get rid of. My big head wasn't exactly controlling things, you know."

Chrissy snorted and gave me a playful shove. "Most of my friends have already lost their virginity, and with a few exceptions, they really didn't enjoy it all too much. I guess knowing that, and combined with wanting to have my first time be with someone special, I didn't feel the need to rush. I've had the opportunity with a couple of guys I've dated but they weren't special -- and I could tell it wouldn't be special either. It's not as if I haven't done it for any kind of moral or ethical reasons -- although I really didn't want to be branded the town slut," she chuckled at her comment and then continued more seriously, "but I knew that I'd remember the moment for the rest of my life and I wanted it to be a happy memory with someone I cared about. And someone who cared about me, and not just because I was letting him have sex with me."

I looked over at her, the breeze blew a thin wisp of hair across her face. I subconsciously raised my hand to her cheek to brush it aside. I don't know what caused me to do it, but I let my hand linger on her cheek, caressing her skin. She was so sweet, and I felt so close to her, emotionally. She looked deep into my eyes and brought her hand up to hold mine. I had tried, resolved, vowed, hoped, and prayed, but when push came to shove, I could no sooner cut off my arm than to be without Chrissy. For all that I had convinced myself that I couldn't become involved with her, I was just too attracted to Chrissy to follow through with my resolutions.

I raised my other hand and cradled her face in my hands as I leaned in to kiss her. It was more tender, more loving than our kisses the first day. At the touch of my lips to hers, Chrissy just melted into my arms. I lay back in the sand and pulled Chrissy atop me, never disengaging our lips. We were tender and passionate and hungry and loving all at once, and I knew that things now could never go back. We walked down this path before, had the chance to escape and ignored it and now we were trapped on the road. Chrissy and I had forged the trail and now were mated to it.

After kissing for what was an indeterminate amount of time -- but could loosely be defined as being between ten minutes and forever -- we talked at length about the potential problems and pitfalls that we could meet. My wife, her parents, our friends, and the fact that she was going away to school all were just a few things that could get in our way. We knew it would be tough, but we also knew that for some odd reason we needed each other. Why two people such as us were so attracted to each other was beyond our comprehension. Maybe Chrissy needed the feeling of being with someone more mature and intelligent than boys her own age. For me, I know that ever since I first laid eyes on her, I found her incredibly attractive and after getting to know her I loved the way that she made me feel so young and vibrant again.

We talked about logistics and the need for clandestine meetings and secret moments and I felt like a character in a spy novel or something like that. Yes, I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I really couldn't help myself. There was something so daring, so risky about the whole thing.

Arranging times to be together proved more complex than we thought. Between Chrissy's school -- which would only last a couple of more weeks -- and my work and home lives, there really wasn't much opportunity to see each other. I knew we could find the time on Saturday mornings and afternoons, when I usually played golf. I could easily get away from my family then, but other times would be much trickier, and we'd have to play it by ear as to when we could find other opportunities.
 
 

I couldn't wait until the following Saturday came. All week, my thoughts were divided equally between whatever it was I was doing at the time and Chrissy. I couldn't get her out of my head. That's not to say that I didn't have my doubts and worries about the whole situation. Moreover, my guilt was overwhelming, especially whenever Karen and I were alone together. Bedtime was the worst. I found myself spending more time working in my study, waiting for Karen to go to sleep before I went to bed. I had a difficult time facing her.

Chrissy called me at work on Friday to discuss what we were going to do the following day. One of the things that we realized is that finding time to be together was not our only major problem. Finding places to go where there would be a small likelihood of us being seen together by people who knew us was as onerous a problem.

When discussing what we were going to do, Chrissy suggested that we play tennis again. She reasoned that we both enjoyed the game and I had mentioned to her last week that I wanted to get my game back in form. Afterward, she thought it might be nice to have a picnic on the same beach we went to last week. She thought it would be romantic, kind of like a hidden place, just for us.

My play was a little better this Saturday, although the result was the same, Chrissy beat me 6-4, 3-6, 6-4. After playing, Chrissy took a blanket and picnic basket out of her trunk and threw them in the back seat of my car. We left her car at the courts and drove my car to the beach. On the drive over, Chrissy reached out and took my hand in hers. It was amazing how incredible it felt simply holding hands with her.

When we got to the beach it wasn't as deserted as it was last week, but there were still few enough people there that we could have a great deal of privacy. Our date was fantastic. It was so elegant in its simplicity. We ate the sandwiches that Chrissy prepared, then took off our shoes and walked hand in hand along the beach, talking, kicking the sand, throwing stones into the ocean, and simply enjoying each other's presence. When we got back to the blanket, we sat and looked up and down the beach to see if anyone was in view. When we were sure we were isolated, our lips attacked each other's furiously and our hands groped at every inch of the other's body.

We kissed and talked and fooled around for a few hours and before we knew it, the time was getting late and we had to get ready to leave. We packed up our things and headed to the car. We rode back to the courts in silence -- just holding hands -- regretting that we'd soon part again.

I helped Chrissy put her stuff back in her car and we kissed once again, neither one of us wanting to leave. Chrissy leaned against her car, staring at me with an apprehensive look. Finally she spoke.

"I was wondering, Danny," she called me Danny for the first time. People didn't normally call me Danny, but it sounded so sweet coming from her. "Is there any time during the week that we can get together?"

I took a deep breath, "I'd love to honey.....I just don't know if I can arrange it.....I'm sorry."

I truly didn't know what to say to her. This was really the first point at which the magnitude of what we were doing really struck me.

Chrissy smiled sadly, in resignation. "I guess this is what it's like being the other woman."

"Chrissy, I'm sorry. If there was something..."

"It's ok Dan. I know what I'm getting into," then she chuckled, "I can't for the life of me explain why I'm getting into it, but I am, and I understand."

We hugged tightly and kissed each other goodbye. I watched Chrissy drive off, and I reflected on the many obstacles that she and I would encounter, and they made no difference to me. I was completely entranced by her. She was smart, funny, completely gorgeous, and an enormous amount of fun to be around. I was falling for her and I couldn't stop myself, even if I had wanted to.
 
 

The next few dates were much of the same. We went to relatively secluded or out of the way places, and we'd find ourselves lost in each other. One day we took a drive to the White Mountains of New Hampshire and did some hiking on Mount Washington, another day we went to Newport and took a tour of a couple of the mansions. On one date, we went canoeing on a local pond. We had a fantastic time, no matter where we went. Just being together was all we needed to be happy.

Chrissy's high school graduation and her eighteenth birthday, within two days of each other, had fallen during this quasi-courtship of ours. We both agreed that it wouldn't be prudent for me to attend her graduation, and it saddened me to have to exclude myself from one of the milestones of Chrissy's life, but such was the lot we chose. We also regrettably knew that this wouldn't be the last event that one of us wouldn't be able to attend. It was a small consolation for me that I got to watch Chrissy's valedictory address on video tape. Even though I wasn't watching it live, that didn't quell the pride I felt seeing her on the stage giving her speech.

A few nights after her graduation we were actually able to arrange an evening date. I had told Karen that I had an evening meeting with another engineer concerning a project I was heading. While it was rare that I would have an evening meeting, it wasn't unheard of, either. So Chrissy and I were free to go out for dinner and a to a movie. It was nothing particularly distinctive, but I think it was that date which really made Chrissy feel more secure in our relationship, such as it was.

Up to that point I always had the feeling that Chrissy thought I was on the verge of breaking up with her. After we went out last Wednesday evening, she seemed much more at ease, as if being on a 'real date', as she had put, had cemented our relationship. Maybe it did, too. For the following few days, she was effervescent whenever we talked on the phone and couldn't wait until this Saturday's lunch date at Boston's Faneuil Hall.

As Chrissy was becoming more and more secure in our relationship, I was getting more frustrated. Not with Chrissy, mind you. She was wonderful and every moment that I spent with her was fantastic. The more time I spent with her, the more time I wanted to spend. She was intoxicating to me; I couldn't get enough of her.

My frustration, in reality, was more of a sexual nature. Being with someone whom I cared about so deeply, who also happened to be as beautiful as Chrissy, yet not being able to make love with was dispiriting, to say the least. It's not as if she was holding out, or stringing me along, or anything quite so sinister. She had talked, sometimes at length, about wanting to be able to find a night when we could be together. She was steadfast about wanting it to be special, but also told me in no uncertain terms how much she wanted to feel me inside of her. In fact, during some of the more intense make out sessions, Chrissy would get quite explicit in her descriptions about what she wanted to do to me and what she wanted me to do to her. If I hadn't known her better, I'd say it was a different girl I was with at those times. Those conversations only further served to add to our frustration and strengthen our resolve to find a time we could be together.

When Chrissy had said that she wanted her first time to be special, she didn't mean special with bouquets of roses and champagne and a string quartet or anything like that. Rather, special as in the two of us being alone for the evening, with no one else in the world for either of us, at least for that night. I fully agreed with her too. The last thing I wanted to do was take her virginity in the back seat of my Saab. She was special and deserved something nice that she could remember pleasantly for the rest of her life. However, Chrissy wasn't real comfortable with sneaking around her parents to arrange a night away from home, and frankly it wasn't easy for me to come up with any plausible explanation for Karen why I had to spend the night away from home. Thus, our situation was still unresolved as I got ready to meet Chrissy at Quincy Market.
 
 

We met Saturday morning a little after eleven at Boston's historic Faneuil Hall/Quincy Market shopping and dining area. She was waiting for me where we agreed, on the bench near the bronze and copper statue of legendary Boston Celtics' head coach and general manager Red Auerbach. When she saw me approaching, she jumped up from the bench and ran toward me, not giving poor Red a second thought.

She ran into my arms and we kissed, thrilled to be together once again. There were a lot of other people around, but it didn't matter to the two of us. I think we were getting tired of hiding. I'm not sure if we were being brave or foolish. Perhaps those two words really only have their definition based on the end result. If you're caught then you were foolish, if not then you were brave. I know I certainly didn't want to get caught, but all the sneaking around was making me uncomfortable. And I didn't want Chrissy to feel as if she were my 'girlfriend in a closet', some sort of a leper, unable to be taken out in public.

Faneuil Hall, which was used as a meeting place during revolutionary times is now a food court of sorts. More than thirty different shops reside inside the old building selling just about any type of food that you could imagine. We walked inside, browsed the different restaurants before buying our lunch and taking it outside.

After we ate on one of the benches outside, we got up and walked around, window shopping the many stores that made up the Quincy Market's two main buildings. As we passed by a jewelry store, Chrissy stopped to look in the window. She had told me once that she wasn't one for wearing a lot of jewelry, and, indeed, she usually preferred to wear only a pair of earrings and occasionally a simple gold necklace. At the window she was looking long and hard at a beautiful diamond pendant. It was a simple gold chain with a diamond pendant. It was classically elegant yet not ostentatious. It just screamed out Chrissy.

"Oh look at this. I love diamonds," Chrissy paused and then said flippantly, "Yes, I know all women are supposed to love diamonds, but I like them because they're so simple but so beautiful. They're not real flashy like some other stuff. I'd love to get a pair of diamond earrings someday."

"Do you like that?" I asked her, pointing at the pendant.

"Oh, it's beautiful, don't you think?"

"I do. Would you like it?" I offered, not figuring how I was going to hide such a large purchase from Karen, who always made out the monthly bills and would easily see the purchase listing on the credit card statement.

"Are you serious?" she stared at me in disbelief.

"Absolutely."

"You're crazy. It's over a thousand dollars." she said, shaking her head.

"No I'm not. If you want it, it's yours." I really wanted to buy this for her. I guess I felt that giving her something tangible would add a level of solidity to our relationship. Maybe I wanted to show her what she meant to me. "Besides, what did I get you for your birthday? A couple of novels. That's hardly a proper gift."

"I loved the books. What was really nice about that was that you knew exactly what to get me and I didn't have to give you any ideas at all. Besides, I don't want you spending a lot of money on me." She protested. It seemed as though Chrissy wouldn't know how to react to a present of such magnitude.

"What if I want to?" I pressed.

"No Danny, please. I think it's so sweet that you're offering it to me but I can't accept. It's just too much. Now before you get all worried, this has nothing to do with our relationship, ok. And another thing, how would I explain to my parents why I'm walking around with a $1400 diamond around my neck? I couldn't very well leave something that pretty in my drawer and not wear it," she said.

I couldn't agree with her more. As always her logic was impeccable, and I marveled at how truly grown up she was. Chrissy and I had been dating for a little more than a month and I didn't know of a handful of women who would turn down a gift of that magnitude at this -- or any -- stage of a relationship. I winced when I thought that Karen, too, was the type of a woman who could turn down something like this.

Before I sunk into a guilt-induced depression, Chrissy piped in. "I'll tell you what. Instead of getting me the necklace, how about if you take me to Swenson's for an ice cream cone?"

I chuckled and smiled. "I think this date just took a turn for the inexpensive. Let's go."

As we ate our ice cream cones and walked, we talked about how difficult it was not being able to see each other on a regular basis. Chrissy, I think, was as frustrated as me and desperately ached to come up with a solution to our problem.

"You know, now that I'm out of school for the summer, I'd like to be able to see more of you. I only have a few months before college starts." Her tone was not demanding, nor was it a simple statement of fact, either.

"It's complicated honey, you know that." I explained, knowing full well that she wouldn't be mollified with so simple a statement.

"I know, your precious wifey." She said with more than a little acid dripping in her voice, emphasizing the word 'wifey'.

I must have given her an expression of pain -- and her comments did sting quite a bit -- because her look immediately turned to one of contrition. "Oh. I'm sorry, Danny. I didn't mean that. I just want to be with you so badly, I guess I got a little bitchy. It's tough having to share you. Do you forgive me?"

How could I not, with her looking up at me with her steel blue eyes wide as saucers, reaching out for my acceptance.

"It's ok, Chrissy." I said softly. "I want to spend time with you too, but what can we do?"

"Well, I was thinking. You know how you sometimes have to go out of town on business trips? I just got a great idea." She bubbled, tugging on my arm like a kid in a toy store. "I have my freshman orientation at Cornell for a couple of days the second week in July. I was thinking maybe you could come with me and we can get a hotel room...." Her words trailed off, perhaps leaving the remainder as an unspoken promise or maybe not wanting to finish the sentence for fear of rejection.

Chrissy had made a huge proposal and I was not about to let her twist in the wind waiting for my reaction. I simply leaned in and gave her a light kiss on the lips and then smiled broadly. "I'll work something out."

She leaned in and squeezed me tightly, jumping up and down as she did so, unable to hide her excitement. "Oh Danny, are you serious?"

"Yeah. You just let me know what the dates are, and I'll arrange to have to be out of town. I must be nuts you know, but I can't help myself."

"Oh, I love you Danny." She hugged me again and them abruptly pulled back and looked at the ground, her face flushed. "I'm sorry....I didn't...." She buried her face in her hands.

I peeled her right hand from her face, and lifted her face with my right hand under her chin, forcing her gaze upward. There was the hint of a tear rolling down her cheek.

"God help me, I love you too Chrissy." The die was cast and, much like Caesar, I had crossed the Rubicon of my relationship with Chrissy. There was no turning back. Next stop: Rome.

Chrissy simply looked into my eyes, smiled and had a very elated look on her face. We clasped hands, like lovers do, and walked around happily, blissfully unconcerned about our actions -- past, present, and future.
 
 

Summer vacation from school was just about a week away for my girls when we had our vacation planning family meeting, discussing where we would go on our annual summer trip. It was hardly as formal as it sounds, though. We actually just sat around the living room with as many brochures, maps and travel books as we could find and tried to hash together a few ideas of where we could go.

Patty's answer to all of the questions was of course, Disney World, until we reminded her that we had just gone there for April vacation and weren't going back so soon. Florida in the summertime is not exactly a pleasant place to go, anyway. It's not that we hadn't done it before, it's just something I'd rather avoid. After being told that Florida and Disney World were out of the question, she predictably flashed a mischievous smile and changed her answer to Disneyland. Beth, on the other hand, took after her mother and was fascinated with history and was becoming a budding geographer in her youth, and would come up with out of the way or tremendously exotic locations that she had heard of.

Thus, after about forty-five minutes of bouncing ideas around, the girls came up with such suggestions as Disneyland; Istanbul and the Bosporus; Disneyland; Italy's Lake Como region and the Swiss and Austrian alps; Disneyland; the pyramids of Egypt; Disneyland, Paris --which Patty also liked, since they, too, have a Disneyland; Disneyland; Oslo and the fjords of Norway; and of course, Disneyland.

This was much more tiring to me than it usually was, and Karen noticed it. Since I loved to travel, I was usually very excited when we did this, but this year was different. The thought of being away from Chrissy for two weeks was weighing on me and I felt guilty that I was putting my own desires ahead of my family's happiness.

"What's wrong, babe?" Karen asked with a concerned expression on her face.

"I'm sorry honey. I guess my mind is preoccupied with work." I lied.

"Try to forget about work for now." Karen smiled warmly. That didn't help to ease my guilt at all.

"Yeah daddy, smile." Patty jumped on my lap. "Besides we have to decide when we're going to Disneyland." She had a devilish smile on her face and I began tickling her until she begged for mercy.

"Ok." I smiled. "I won't think about work...or anything until we decide where we're going."

"Good," replied Karen. "Now, Beth, honey. You know we can't go anywhere really elaborate while Danny is still so young. I mean, he's only been walking for a little over a month."

"All right mom. I guess you're right." Beth sighed dejectedly.

"I promise, Beth. In a few years we'll go to back to Europe, but Danny's just too young now." I tried to placate her, but was unsure of my success. We had taken the girls to Spain two years ago and that was, I think, the catalyst for Beth's love of exotic -- and expensive -- travel.

"Daddy and I were talking about a couple of ideas," Karen offered. "Yellowstone, the Canadian maritimes, maybe the outer banks of North Carolina and Williamsburg, Virginia. And yes Patty, don't worry, Disneyland is one of the choices.

After discussing the relative merits of the choices that Karen and I had offered, both Beth and Patty decided that they wanted to go to southern California. Patty was overjoyed at the prospect of going to both Disneyland and the San Diego zoo as well as the other attractions in southern California. Beth, too, was excited at the prospect of going west and did seem almost as thrilled as Patty to be going to the theme parks. Karen and I were happy that our girls were in agreement with the decision, and we wondered privately how many years we had remaining before one or both of the girls would lose their enthusiasm for the family vacation.

------------

Karen and I put the kids to bed and retired for the night, ourselves. She'd been looking at me askance all evening, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before she questioned me. Karen was not one to keep things bottled up inside of her for too long.

"What was the deal with the way you were behaving earlier?" She asked, a little irritated.

"What do you mean, hun?"

"Don't give me that. You usually get more excited than the kids when we're discussing vacations. I have to rein you in more than the girls. What's up? And don't just feed me the work line." Karen pressed me and I felt my face begin to get hot.

"Well, it is work that's bothering me. I might be put in charge of a new project, and it might take me out of town quite a bit." This wasn't entirely a lie. We often had projects out of town, and I may indeed have been in line to be assigned one. I know I was walking the truth tightrope, but despite all of my activity with Chrissy, I still had a difficult time lying blatantly to Karen.

"You've done that before. It's not the greatest thing in the world, but we get through it." Karen tried to be sympathetic. God this woman was a saint and I was such a shithead.

"I know," I agreed. "I don't even know if I'll be assigned to it yet. But old man Davis wants me personally to conduct the initial meetings in Syracuse in a couple of weeks. I have to go to that, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to get out of the project itself." Yes, we were up for a project in the Syracuse, NY area that was slated to start later this year but that hadn't been assigned yet. With Ithaca only about an hour drive from Syracuse, it was an ideal project for me to head. Instead of trying to turn the assignment down, I'd eagerly accept it so I'd have to be in Syracuse a couple of days a week and get to see Chrissy during the school year -- if things even lasted that long. Despite being uncomfortable with lying to Karen, I was apparently becoming pretty skilled at underhanded scheming, and was horrified that I found myself taking pleasure in my ability to be duplicitous.

In fact, there hadn't even been a meeting in Syracuse in a couple of weeks, but I used that as an excuse to arrange to go to Ithaca with Chrissy. I felt shitty about lying to Karen, and wasn't sure for how long I could keep up the charade, it was tearing me apart. I truly loved my wife with all my heart, but I also had a powerful ache to be with Chrissy, whom I also loved. This conundrum was causing me fits.

Karen looked at me sympathetically and tried to cheer me up, "Hey, relax. It'll be ok. You'll go to Syracuse, have a miserable time, and then come back home to your family and we'll leave for vacation at the end of July and you'll forget all about work."

"I know. You're probably right." I tried to smile at her consolation, but my guilt was just too strong. I was getting in over my head. I wasn't a good liar to begin with, and trying to juggle two lives was getting to be more than a bit overwhelming.

"Come here. Let me give you a back rub," she began rubbing my shoulders as I lay on my stomach.

I felt her backrub gave way to another sensation. She apparently had removed her nighty and was letting her firm nipples glide all over my back, the delicate points tracing themselves over my back in pleasurable torture. She leaned over, pressing her bare breasts into my shoulder blades as she gave me little kisses on my neck. Her moist, hot breath was tickling the nape of my neck as she inched her face up a bit to begin nibbling on my ear.

I turned over and Karen greeted me wearing nothing but a smile. She slid my shorts off and took my already turgid cock into her mouth. After bobbing on it for a few minutes as I reached my hand out to play with her pussy, Karen straddled my torso and enveloped my prick with her moist sex. I held onto her hips and tried to steady her as she rode me, her tits bouncing happily with every gallop. Within just a few minutes she brought herself off in a moaning, panting orgasm and collapsed on top of me.

I rolled her on her back and plunged my cock into her waiting hole. I sucked on her milk filled breasts as my hard cock thrust into her repeatedly. I was so hot, it was only a matter of a few strokes before I felt that familiar tingle in my balls and emptied my seed into her waiting sex.

We kissed each other tenderly and snuggled together as Karen rolled over on her side and I pressed myself to her in the spoon position. As we drifted off to sleep my troubles were -- at least temporarily -- pushed to the back of my mind.
 
 

Over the next couple of weeks, Chrissy and I wove a web of deceit that would have made the members of the Nixon administration proud. Chrissy had convinced her parents that they didn't need to accompany her on the ride to Ithaca. She told them that the school had given her a list of girls from Massachusetts who would be attending Cornell as freshmen in the fall, and she had contacted one from Plymouth with whom she'd ride. Then she had to contact the orientation staff at Cornell and tell them that she wouldn't be needing a room in the dorms during orientation, she'd be staying in a nearby hotel with her mother, who was going to accompany her for the ride.

With Chrissy's part having been accomplished, I had to arrange a few days off from work. I wasn't worried that my office would try to contact me at home. Normally, when they had to contact me away from the office, they'd usually just E-mail me, unless it was relatively urgent in which case they'd page me. Just to be on the safe side though, I instructed my secretary not to call me at home, just contact me by pager -- and only if it was necessary.

If Karen needed to call me, she, of course, had my cell phone and pager numbers, and rarely called me when I was on the road anyway. Usually, on a business trip, I would call my family and talk for a few minutes every night before the kids went to bed. Seemingly, I was safe there as well as she would have no reason for her to call my office.

Thus all of our lies were braided carefully, a clever string of deceptions all concealing an even larger one. But we chose instead to focus on our upcoming trip, ignoring the fact that we had deceived so many people. I had deluded myself into believing that as long as no one had found out, all of my little lies weren't harming anyone.

I found myself rationalizing my actions more and more. 'Skating the ethical line' is how I referred to it before. Whatever I wanted to call it, it was essentially lying. Yes, technically nothing had happened between Chrissy and me, but I knew in my heart of hearts that I was betraying Karen. And it was only a matter of time before something did happen between the two of us. After all, this latest series of lies were simply to ensure my ultimate act of infidelity.

It's funny how we convince ourselves that what we're doing isn't wrong, that we're just skirting the boundary of propriety. Sophistry. Bullshit. My intention was never to hurt Karen or my kids, but wasn't simply betraying her trust doing enough damage? She may not have known what was going on between Chrissy and me, but I sure as hell did. Despite the fact that she didn't know what I was doing, weren't my actions enough to hurt her, hurt our marriage? Moreover, I certainly had ample opportunity to stop it if I had wanted to.

I really couldn't put my finger on the reason why I was risking a happy 12-year marriage. Maybe it was being with such a fun, beautiful, young -- let's not deny it -- and intelligent girl; dammit, I loved her. Chrissy was the type of girl that most guys would have died for and I had her; that was more than a little intoxicating for my ego. Whatever it was, and however I wanted to sugarcoat it for my own conscience to swallow it, what I was doing was wrong and no amount of excuses or rationalization would change that.

However, all that being noted, I was still powerless to end my relationship with Chrissy. Despite all my misgivings, all my guilt, all my self-loathing over the whole situation, I got genuinely excited whenever I was with Chrissy. And ending it here with her would cause her pain too, and I couldn't do that to her. Maybe I did love her -- I mean, really loved her. I was certainly too old for crushes or infatuations, and Chrissy excited me more than I could ever imagine. I know I loved being with her. Simply walking with her, hand in hand, gave me more than a lifetime of thrills. I lit up, I burst to flame, whenever she was with me, and despite knowing how wrong it was I was far too weak, and I suppose too much in love, to stop it.
 
 

I left my house to pick up Chrissy at nine o'clock on the Tuesday morning that she and I were going to New York. Her parents were both at work and her brother was at camp so I was able to pick Chrissy up at home. It's funny, we had become so accustomed to all of the sneaking around that we hardly gave arrangements like this a second thought anymore.

When Chrissy answered the door, I was taken aback at her appearance. She was wearing a simple light yellow sundress that came down to her knee and her blonde hair hung loosely off her shoulders, bouncing with each step. It was incredible how Chrissy could wear no makeup at all and still look more beautiful than glamour magazine cover-models. It seemed everywhere we went, other men would always try to sneak surreptitious glances in Chrissy's direction. Yes, it was annoying, but on some level it fed my ego like nothing else could. It was quite a feeling knowing that just about wherever we went, the most beautiful girl in the place was with me.

"What do you think? I just got it the other day," she interrupted my staring, biting her lower lip, seeking my approval.

"You look amazing. You get more beautiful every time I see you."

"You're so sweet. I was hoping you'd like it. I went shopping the other day with Katie and I bought some new clothes.....including something to wear.....for bed." Her face turned crimson -- or perhaps more fitting for a matriculating freshman at Cornell, Carnelian red.

I smiled a goofy grin, unsure of what to say at that point. I was certain that jumping up and down yelling 'goody, goody' was a little on the inappropriate side. So I said nothing and simply threw her bag into the trunk of my car as we began our journey to Ithaca, New York.

Never before in my life had a seven-hour ride gone as quickly and smoothly as our trip to Cornell did. We had a fantastic trip. We talked about everything imaginable and joked almost the whole ride there. We played silly car games; seeing how many different states' license plates we could spot and other similarly inane activities to pass the time.

Shortly after four we pulled into the parking lot of our hotel, which was about three miles from the Cornell campus. As we were about to get out of the car, Chrissy seemed a little uneasy.

"What's wrong, Chris?" I reached my hand out for hers.

"I don't know. I guess I'm a little nervous checking in," she paused, looking a little sheepish. "As if everyone will know what we're up to. I know I'm being....."

"If you want, I can go check in by myself and you can wait in the lobby." I tried to comfort her.

"Really? You won't be mad and think I'm acting childish?"

I chuckled and smiled to reassure her. "No. It's fine. Let's go in, I'll check in and you can sit in the lobby and wait for me, then we'll go up and rest for a little while before we get ready for dinner."

We entered our room, threw our bags on the floor, and collapsed on the king sized bed. After a couple of minutes, Chrissy rolled over and put her hand on my chest.

"You know," she said, with a sparkle in her eye, "this is the first time we've ever been in bed together."

"I guess you're right. What do you think we should do about that?" I smirked at Chrissy and then pulled her on top of me.

We kissed tenderly, rubbing our bodies against each other. I hiked her dress up a bit and began playing with her panty-covered pussy. Chrissy's juices were flowing heavily as she bucked her crotch hard against my fingers. While keeping our lips entwined, she took her hand and began stroking my hardening shaft through my pants.

Our kisses became more tender and deeper and Chrissy's bucking against my hand became even more insistent. Her panties were soaked through and I could hear the sloshing of my fingers against her pubic mound as her release was imminent. Chrissy ground her pussy hard into my hand and her breathing became very rapid. She began grunting and moaning uncontrollably as she released our kiss and let out a series of short, high-pitched squeaks before collapsing limply on my chest.

Chrissy lay limply on top of me, trying to regain some rhythm to her breathing. After a couple of minutes she looked up at me and smiled broadly. Her smile was infectious and I couldn't help but smile along with her.

"You feel good?" I asked.

"Mm-hum," she purred. "But you were left out. Let's see what we can do about that."

Chrissy again reached for my cock but instead I took her hand in mine and hugged her tightly.

"Why don't we wait until later, Chris? We'll have all night. Let's go get something to eat."

She pretended to pout and then pushed off of me and pounced off of the bed. "Ok, but first I have to change my panties." She flashed me an overtly flirtatious glance while lifting her dress playfully over her ass. "I have no idea why, though."

We drove downtown near the campus and looked for a restaurant nearby, which wasn't tough since Ithaca seemed to have more restaurants than houses. We settled on a bistro that served Northern Italian cuisine and were seated in a corner booth. As we ate dinner, we flirted with each other shamelessly. We held hands above the table and played footsie below. The sexual tension between us was palpable.

We passed on dessert as well as the walk around campus that we had originally planned in favor or a quick return to the hotel. On the five minute ride back, Chrissy was quiet and appeared a bit nervous. The truth be told, I was nervous, myself. It's not as if I didn't have plenty of experience with sex, but for the last 14 years all of that experience was with one woman. A new sexual partner always brought forth a certain amount of anxiety to go along with the excitement. And tonight's anxiety was magnified even more for me in that this was going to be Chrissy's first time. I knew that she was extremely excited about tonight and I wanted so badly that everything would be perfect for her.

I thought back to my first time, back in the summer between my junior and senior years of high school, in the back seat of my father's Oldsmobile Cutlass. The event lasted all of a minute, two if you count foreplay. Melissa Cohen was her name; what a cutie she was. We dated for that summer and a couple of months into our senior year. Looking back, I really felt bad for her. It was her first time too, and I had no idea what the fuck I was doing -- neither of us did, really. It hurt her, it was messy, and I think we both had much higher expectations for the event than actually came to pass.

Well, it would be different for Chrissy. I wasn't a fumbling 16-year-old anymore. Not that I had the experience of a porn star, but I certainly knew what it takes to make a woman feel good. Tonight was, without any reservation or second thought, all for Chrissy; my feelings were secondary to hers and I was going to concentrate on her needs at the expense of my own. I suppose to some small degree tonight was also for Melissa -- or rather to placate my guilt over how lousy things were that first time for her -- too.
 
 

We rode the elevator up to our floor in silence. Fortunately, we were only on the third floor, if we had to watch the lighted floor readout for much longer I know I would have gone nuts. As much as Chrissy and I loved each other, neither one of us could come up with anything to say on the elevator to break the tension, knowing what was upcoming. When we entered the room, Chrissy took a deep breath and grabbed her overnight bag and brought it into the bathroom with her, quietly saying that she was going to jump in the shower.

I took the opportunity to call my family and say good night to the kids and Karen. Danny was already asleep -- and at thirteen months wasn't much of a conversationalist anyway, he'd much rather chew the phone than talk into it -- so I listened to my girls' accounts of their day's activities and said good night to them before I spoke with Karen. I took a deep breath when she got on the phone, astounded at the audacity I had in talking with my wife while my girlfriend was in the bathroom showering.

I made up a story about the ride and talked about my fabricated meetings over the next couple of days and was amazed at how easily the lies were starting to flow. I guess it's true that one lie begets so many others. At first I was so apprehensive about lying to Karen, and now it was becoming second nature to me. What galled me was how good I was becoming at it and how much pleasure I took in that.

We talked for a few more minutes before we said how much we missed and loved each other. I told her that I'd call her tomorrow and that I couldn't wait to get back home. Hanging up, I knew that I truly loved her and did, indeed miss her and I was beginning to wonder where the lies ended and the truth began.

After I hung up. I turned on the TV and got undressed, throwing on a pair of gym shorts that I wore to bed. I had thought about not wearing anything, but didn't want to intimidate Chrissy when she got out of the bathroom. After all, tonight was for her, and I didn't want her uncomfortable with any stage of the evening.

I lay on the bed and was watching a lousy sit-com on the television when I heard the bathroom door click open. Chrissy walked into my view and I thought my heart would stop; she was absolutely stunning. I now knew the thrill of throwing a no-hitter or painting a renaissance masterpiece; well, maybe not doing those things, but being in the presence of someone doing them. Chrissy was, to me, a great Dutch or Italian painting -- a Van Gogh or a Raphael, every brush stroke exact, every shadow perfect -- and I was truly in the presence of greatness. She was wearing a peach satin chemise that went down to mid thigh and caressed her every curve as if she were an angel. Her hair was down and cascaded over her shoulders, framing her beautiful face perfectly. She was breathtaking.

Like a goddess, she floated out of the bathroom and approached the bed tentatively. I reached out for her hand and kissed it delicately.

"Do you like it?" Chrissy looked at the nighty and then at me, questioningly.

"If I live another hundred years, I'll never see anything as beautiful as you are right now."

She blushed, then smiled and placed her arms around me, giving me a gentle kiss. "Oh Danny, I love you."

"I love you too." I meant it, completely. "Come here."

Chrissy sat down next to me on the bed and leaned her head on my chest and stroked my abdomen with her left hand. "Why don't you, um, take your shorts off." She didn't look at me as she said it, nervously.

I was already hard at this point, and smiled at Chrissy as I slid my shorts down my legs, releasing my engorged cock from its cloth prison.

"Oh," she gasped and then giggled as she tentatively reached her hand out to touch it. "I didn't expect it to be so big. I'm not sure how that's all going to fit inside."

I tried to stifle a little chuckle and then reassured her. "It's really not that big, maybe just a little bigger than average. You'll be fine honey. I'll be careful." I smiled.

We kissed for a little while, before I sat her up and began to remove the nighty. Slowly raising the diaphanous material over her head, I marveled at how her nipples stiffened as the smooth satin rubbed delicately over her firm buds. This was actually the first time that I had seen her naked. If I had thought she looked like a goddess earlier, then words couldn't describe her beauty now.

I moved my head down and heard her gasp as I sucked her right breast into my mouth. I gently nibbled on the tip of the ever enlarging nip, circling her entire breast with my lips. I flicked her nipple gently with my tongue as Chrissy squirmed and gasped in ecstasy. I alternated breasts as I lowered my hand slowly toward her dark blonde bush. Flicking my tongue over her nipples, I lightly traced the perimeter of her vulva with my hand. Like the petals of a tulip in the early morning sun, Chrissy's labia were opening themselves up to me.

Removing my mouth from Chrissy's exquisite breasts, I traced my tongue down her tanned abdomen and encircled her navel. Chrissy writhed as I licked in and around her sensitive belly button. Her breathing got heavier as I added fondling her breasts with my left hand to the light pussy massage I was giving with my right.

Chrissy began moaning through her nose and ran her hand lightly through my hair. After a few more minutes of kissing her trim belly, I moved my mouth down lower, toward the golden triangle at the apex of her thighs. As I approached her pussy with my mouth, Chrissy stopped rubbing my hair and I could feel her stiffen.

"Danny, what are you doing?" Her voice was high pitched, almost in a panic.

"Relax, honey. I promise you'll love this......Trust me." I tried to reassure her as I kissed her lower abdomen gently.

Chrissy didn't respond but relaxed a bit and spread her legs slightly. I moved down between her thighs and gently traced her outer lips with my tongue. I darted my tongue in and around the folds, just teasing her hooded nubbin. She began to moan and started running her hands through my hair a little more forcefully than earlier. Her hips also started bucking toward my mouth.

"Ohhh, God. Danny, this feels so good. Mmmm. This is incredible. Ohhh, yeah," she groaned.

I redoubled my efforts at Chrissy's encouragement and could taste her juices flowing freely. I noted that she tasted different than Karen, not as tangy, more subtle I supposed. I couldn't believe that I was comparing the taste of my girlfriend's pussy juice with my wife's, I had to be nuts. Still, I found the contrast fascinating.

I brushed my tongue along her inner lips, pressing lightly against her maidenhead. She moaned in delight and began humping her pussy up toward my face. I took this as a definite sign of encouragement and I started to focus my interest on her clitoris. I used my hand to expose the sensitive head and licked and sucked and nibbled until Chrissy was forcing my head into her crotch with her hands and was squealing in orgasm. I kept up my oral assault for a couple of minutes until she could stand it no longer and clamped her legs shut and pushed my head away, panting and gasping for breath.

"Oh my God!" Chrissy gasped after taking a few minutes to catch her breath. "That was amazing. You're incredible. I've never felt that good in my life." She leaned over and kissed me. She broke the kiss and paused for a second as she detected her juice on my lips, but dismissed her doubts and kissed me again.

"I thought you'd like that." I smiled broadly at her.

"One of the girls in my class, Tiffany, was telling Katie and me about her boyfriend doing that to her and how great it felt. We thought she was weird, you know, like some sort of a freak to let a guy.....eat....her down there." She paused to snicker at herself. "Were we wrong. That was the most amazing thing I've ever felt in my life."

"Do you think you're ready for the next step?" I wanted to make sure that Chrissy was totally comfortable with this next step; after all, once done, there was no going back.

"Oh, yes. After that you can do anything to me that you want," Chrissy paused and looked into my eyes. "You don't know how much I've dreamed about this moment. Please make love to me Danny."
 
 

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" I looked down at Chrissy as I moved myself into position over her. I began rubbing the head of my cock against her engorged labia, fairly confident that due to the lack of stimulation on my penis that I'd be able to hold out for a while.

Just as I was positioning my dick over her vaginal opening Chrissy spoke hesitatingly. "Danny I, um, I'm not on the pill or anything like that. Don't you have a condom?"

"Well, I.....do you remember me telling you how little Danny was conceived?" I asked hesitatingly, moving off to the side.

"Yeah."

"Well, after that, I had a little....." I hesitated. I was a little uncomfortable talking about this. "I had a vasectomy."

Chrissy instinctively looked down at my penis, as if she could see any outward evidence of the operation, and then obviously realized what she did. She blushed and quickly brought her gaze up to my eyes. "Oh, well that's good. But I was also thinking along the lines of......safe sex." Her tone was mouse like, unsure.

I chuckled. Not at Chrissy, but more at implication of her question. Then again, I was about to commit adultery, so perhaps my background should have been questioned by her.

"Chrissy, I'm about as safe as you can get. I haven't had sex with someone other than Karen in about 14 years." I tried to reassure her.

"I'm just nervous about everything. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just thinking too much." She smiled and tried to get playful. "I suppose since we do have the room, we might as well use it. I'd hate to see it go to waste."

I sensed Chrissy's discomfort, despite her best efforts to hide it. It made sense to me too; the need to practice safe sex has been drilled into everyone's mind over the past several years, and Chrissy was simply responding to very well founded fears. Even though I knew that I was 'safe', tonight was for Chrissy, and I was going to do anything that I could do to put her mind at ease.

"Wait a minute." I jumped off the bed and Chrissy looked at me strangely. I told her that I'd remembered that in many hotel honor bars in hotels I'd seen something they call a 'marriage enhancement pack', which essentially is a package that contains condoms and some sort of packaged lubricant. I chuckled to myself at the naming of these packs. They probably led more to the detriment of marriages than their enhancement.

I looked through the bar, past the incredibly overpriced items and found what I was looking for. It was called an 'intimacy package' and it contained three condoms, three one-time-use packages of KY Jelly, and several moist towlettes all for the bargain basement price of $14.95.

"Got it," I eagerly said to Chrissy and returned to the bed, rolling the condom over the length of my erect penis.

I smiled and again positioned myself over Chrissy. The look on her face was almost indescribable. She was at once frightened yet excited. She looked equally like a woman whose every desire was about to be fulfilled and a scared little girl about to be scolded by an angry parent. I could only imagine all of the conflicting thoughts that were going through her mind.

As I rubbed my cock over her labia, I looked warmly down at her and, for the sake of my own conscience, had to ask Chrissy's approval one final time.

"Are you sure you want this, honey?"

"I know I seem a little nervous. I'm sorry. I've never wanted anything more than I want this now. Make love to me, Danny."

So I did.

I pushed the head of my cock against her barrier and leaned forward ever so slightly. I saw Chrissy's face wince in a ball of tension and her fingers clutch the sheet of the bed tightly as I broke through her hymen. I paused, just barely beyond where the barrier once guarded her most precious of treasures, to give her a chance to recover. I looked down at her, questioningly, and her face relaxed. I leaned over, keeping my penis in the same position it was in, and gave Chrissy a light kiss on the lips. She managed a slight smile and brought her hand up to caress my check.

"Are you ok," I asked, concerned about her pain.

Chrissy sucked in a breath in a pained expression. "It's not too bad. It hurts, but going slowly like you are, I'm starting to get used to it."

Moving forward even more slowly, I pressed myself in by another half-inch. I paused to allow her to adjust to the intruder before I continued. God, she was tight. After a couple of minutes she seemed to relax, and I began to work my way in, inch by inch. Stretching her out ever so slowly, not wanting to cause too much discomfort, I pushed onward. After about ten minutes of methodical penetration, pausing periodically whenever she seemed to be in discomfort, I finally reached bottom. She relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief as I held myself motionless within her, allowing her to become accustomed to the full feeling.

After several minutes of holding myself steady and just exchanging little kisses with my teenaged lover, I saw Chrissy look up at me with a smile as she began to move her hips ever so slightly. I took this as a signal that she was comfortable with the feel of my invading member and gently started a slow rhymthic thrust. I pulled out about a few inches and then plunged in once again. We kissed deeply as I initiated a steady, slow fucking rhythm. Chrissy became adjusted after a while and spread her legs even wider, trying to get more of me inside her. She ran her hands up and down my chest while I brought my lips to her neck and earlobe, eliciting moans of passion through her nose.

She returned my pelvic thrusts with ones of her own and brought my face down to hers to kiss me deeply. Grabbing my ass with her hands, Chrissy broke our kiss and began grunting and urging me onward faster.

"Fuck me Danny. Ohhh, fuck my pussy with your big hard cock. Harder. Fuck me harder." Chrissy grunted. I had no idea where this dirty talk was coming from. It's not that Chrissy didn't swear, she was no prude; it's just that she wasn't the type to throw around swears just for the sake of swearing. And with most of our conversations about sex, she had always been on the coy, shy side -- almost uncomfortable discussing it. But now she was swearing up a storm that would make a longshoreman blush and it was having the most incredible effect on me.

After about forty minutes of delicate and tender love making, Chrissy started to squeal as she started to feel the beginnings of her orgasm. She wrapped her legs tightly around my torso and lust won out over tenderness as I gave up every pretense of being gentle. At the peak of her climax she looked up at me with her deep blue eyes and, with the most devilish look on her face, grunted, "Oh Danny, fuck, you're amazing. This feels so fucking good. Don't stop."

I continued pounding into her, reveling in the pleasure I got from watching her expression of pure joy. Within a couple of minutes I could feel the spasming of her pussy walls as she was again coming. Once again she let out a stream of expletives as the moment hit and again urged me loudly to continue.

Perhaps ten or fifteen deep thrusts after her previous orgasm she was coming again, this time louder than the previous two combined. She wrapped her powerful legs around me and begged me to fuck her hard, spitting out a litany of near-unintelligible expletives. I could feel the pressure building in my balls and I intensified my stabs into her tight pussy until I exploded in wave after wave of extreme pleasure. Chrissy's clutching vagina seemed to squeeze every last drop of semen out of my spasming penis.

I collapsed on top of her and we lay like that, breathing heavily, for what could have been about five minutes, before my weight on her got too painful for her and she nudged me off. Chrissy and I lay quietly, still gasping for breath, trying to come down from our sexual high.

"Thanks, Danny." Chrissy said reverently a few minutes later.

"For what?"

"For making it live up to my fantasy. I didn't think that would happen. I love you, Danny." She kissed me gently on the cheek.

"I love you too, Chris. I'm really happy that it was all you hoped it would be. If I can confess, I was a little nervous too."

"Really? Danny, you were incredible." Chrissy rested her head on my chest.

I simply smiled and let the compliments feed my ego as we lay together on the bed, snuggling warmly with each other.

"You know, I love it when you call me Danny." I said, after a couple of minutes of reveling in the feel of Chrissy's smooth skin against mine.

"Why?"

"No one calls me Danny, It's always Dan, or Mr. Kleine. I feel young again. I guess that's the way you make me feel."

Chrissy squeezed me tightly and then leaned up on her elbow and looked at me pensively.

"Danny, I'm, um, sorry about what I was saying before, the way I was talking when we were.... you know. I don't know what came over me. It was like I was another person, saying those things." Chrissy seemed embarrassed at her dirty talk during sex.

"Chrissy, honey. Don't be embarrassed. To tell you the truth, talking dirty during sex is kind of a turn on for me. You're not the first woman to talk dirty during sex." I paused as I held her tightly to me. "I really didn't expect it from you, but it was very hot."

"Really? You're not just trying to make me feel better?" She got quieter, "I felt like such a slut saying some of those things, though. I don't think I've ever been as turned on as when I was.....coming when we were having sex." She was so cute when she was being coy. I could hardly believe that this was the same girl who was saying such dirty things just a short while earlier.

Chrissy excused herself and went to the bathroom as I got up and grabbed a couple of $3 sodas from the honor bar and marveled at the prices for some of the items. Soda, $3; a can of beer, $5; a small bag of chips, $2.50; a nip of Dewars, $6; a candy bar, $3. Amazing. I chuckled at myself as my frugal -- ok, cheap -- nature made a mental note to go to a convenience store to buy a six-pack of Pepsi for $2.50 to replace the sodas I just got.

I heard the shower start so I brought the cans into the bathroom with me and thought I'd surprise Chrissy. I pulled aside the curtain and Chrissy shrieked in fright.

"You scared me Danny." She tried to feign a pout, but couldn't hide her grin.

"I thought you might be thirsty. I brought you a Pepsi. Mind if I join you?"

"Well....since you did bring me something I guess I'll let you come inside.... Although I suppose you've already done that." She blushed at her double entendre and I couldn't help but laugh at her joke.

The shower was a standard hotel bathtub/shower so when I entered there wasn't a lot of room for us to maneuver. We drank some of the soda and then placed the cans on the edge of the tub. I grabbed the soap and started to wash Chrissy's back.

"Oooh. I think I like this." Chrissy purred as my hands wandered down to her ass.

I brought my soapy hands around to her front and lathered her breasts as I pressed myself against her. "I know I like this!" She grabbed the soap in her hands and lathered them thoroughly.

She turned around and began laving my flaccid penis, "I wouldn't want to be the only one getting clean here."

"You're so thoughtful, Chrissy. What would I ever do without you?" I grinned as her stroking was getting me hard again.

"Well, for one thing. You wouldn't have anywhere to put this." She gave my cock a playful squeeze.

We kissed and fooled around in the shower for a few minutes more, before getting out and drying each other off. I retrieved the half full soda cans and placed them on the nightstand as we lifted back the covers to get into bed.

Chrissy frowned. "Ugh. This sheet is a mess. I guess I bled more than a little, huh?" she said sheepishly. "What will they say about it?"

"This is a hotel, sweetie. It won't be the first set of ruined sheets that they've had."

Fortunately the messy item was the top sheet, and we removed that and the rest of the bed was none the worse for wear. When we jumped under the covers Chrissy began fondling my penis and within seconds I was erect again.

"What can we do with this?" Chrissy tried to sound innocent.

"I think I have an idea." I said coyly as I rolled Chrissy on top of me. We began kissing as I moved her hips over mine. I felt Chrissy's pussy and it was moist again. Grabbing my shaft, I placed it at her entrance and took her hips in my hands and lowered her onto my cock.

Chrissy grunted as I filled her up but sat motionless atop my penis. After about a minute of adjusting to the intrusion and figuring out that she needed to control the movement, Chrissy began rocking her hips over my penis. She reveled in the pleasure that she was bringing herself, panting and groaning incomprehensibly. I lay there marveling at her intensity while Chrissy increased the strength of her pelvic thrusts, bucking and grunting in orgasm.

"Fuck me Danny. Fill me up with your cock. Fuck my pussy." Her dirty talk returned with yet another orgasm as I tried my best to accommodate her from below.

The next several hours were a blur. We made love in every imaginable way that night. She rode me to another orgasm, then I positioned her on all fours and mounted her from the rear. As I was fucking her from behind, she remarked that she felt so dirty and sexy doing it that way. We experimented with several other positions and by the time we finally finished at about three o'clock in the morning Chrissy had achieved at least twenty orgasms of varying intensity. Her appetite for sexual discovery was as deep as my lust for her and one seemingly fed off the other in an erotic circle of exhausting proportions. I was amazed that I was actually able to come twice more and by the time we were finished we barely had the energy to kiss each other good night.
 
 

The wake up call came at 7:30. I'm not sure how many times the phone rang before I managed to answer it -- I distinctly remember a ringing phone working its way into my dream -- but when I did lift the receiver to hear the automated recording, the clock by the side of the bed read 7:34.

Chrissy was still dead to the world and I took a minute to gaze at her. She looked so innocent in her deep sleep, her hair splayed wildly over her pillow. God, she was beautiful.

I staggered to the bathroom, letting Chrissy sleep a little longer. Her orientation at Cornell was going to begin at 9:30, so she wasn't going to be able to sleep too much longer, I just didn't have the heart to awaken her quite yet.

I had just finished peeing, somewhat uncomfortably -- it had been a very long time since I'd come three times in a night -- when I heard Chrissy groan out in pain.

I ran out of the bathroom to check on her. "Chrissy, what's wrong?"

She was sitting on the edge of the bed with an extremely pained expression on her face. "It hurts to sit down. Everything is sore.....down there."

"Come on, let me help you up. Why don't you soak in a nice warm bath. That might help." I tried to give her a sympathetic look.

"Will it always feel like that?" Chrissy asked worriedly.

"It will if we do it for six hours straight like we did last night. Plus, I think it hurts a lot more because it was your first time and that was the first time those muscles were stretched out."

"Actually, now that I'm moving around, I feel a little better. But I will take that bath." Then she winked overtly, "want to join me?"

I gave her a kiss, and I playfully spanked her ass. "If I do, you won't get to your orientation on time. And if you think you're sore now...." I chuckled.

Chrissy bathed and went into the bedroom to dress while I showered, shaved, and brushed my teeth. When I went back into the bedroom, Chrissy was dressed simply in jeans and a polo shirt. If my own equipment wasn't also sore from last night's activities, I think she would have had a difficult time getting out of the room, I chuckled to myself.

We went down to the hotel restaurant and ate breakfast before leaving to bring Chrissy to the campus. Chrissy had orientation from 9:30 until 4:00 today and again tomorrow from 10:00 to 11:00, which was essentially a meeting the incoming freshman members of the tennis team had with the tennis coaches. She was still walking somewhat gingerly as I left her at the student center and went to the I.M. Pei designed Johnson Museum of Art, located right on the Cornell campus, to pass the time. Going to an art museum isn't the usual way I pass my time, but I'm not averse to the idea either. I spent the morning wandering the halls of the museum, looking at some of the 27,000 pieces in their collection, went for a late lunch and then strolled around the campus until it was time to meet Chrissy at four.

I suggested that we go for the walk around campus that we skipped last night. As we walked, Chrissy told me all about her activities at orientation. We walked to the south edge of campus and I showed her Cascadilla Creek, which I discovered on my brief walk earlier in the day. The creek, fed from Cayuga Lake, has several waterfalls and frames one of the more scenic college campuses I'd ever seen.

Chrissy and I ate at another restaurant in town, tonight's choice was seafood, but afterward decided to take a walk around instead of heading back to the hotel right away.

"You know, Danny, I feel a lot better than I did this morning, but I still don't think I'm up as much as we did last night." Chrissy chuckled.

"Well, to tell you the truth, last night was the first time in about five years that I've been able to, uh, rise to the occasion three times in the same night."

"Really?" Chrissy had a funny grin on her face, as if she were proud of being able to excite me so much.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I'm usually a one-and-done type of guy. Of course with three kids, I'm lucky to have the energy for one."

Chrissy snorted and couldn't stop laughing.

"Hey," I yelled in mock protest. "I'm not a young man anymore. I'd like to think that quality is better than quantity."

"I'm sorry, babe," she tried to stop her laughter. "We'll have to see what I can do to get you ready tonight."

When we got back to the hotel, Chrissy called her folks and updated them with the G-rated version of her activities and then went to the bathroom to give me some privacy while I called my family again. As I hung up the phone, Chrissy walked out of the bathroom wearing the same peach chemise that she wore last night.

"I'm sorry I don't have something else to wear," she was truly apologetic, "but those things are expensive, and I really needed to get other, more practical, clothes."

"Don't be sorry, Chris. I think it was wonderful that you bought something sexy to wear for me." Then I deadpanned, "but you know I'd love you even if you didn't wear anything at all."

She came over and hit me with a pillow. "Smartass." She stuck her tongue out at me playfully.

I pulled her down and tossed her playfully on the bed beside me. I took her in my arms and our lips met. We made love with far less intensity than last night. It was slow and tender and there wasn't the urgency of the prior night. We took the time to explore each other's body slowly, tenderly, lovingly. When we were through and basking in our post-orgasmic bliss we cuddled and caressed each other, tenderly snuggling until we fell asleep.

Morning came much less painfully for Chrissy, and I too, was much more rested than I was yesterday. Chrissy took my car to campus for her meeting with the tennis coach while I stayed in the room and caught up on some work. I logged in for my E-mail and wrote a couple of memos before I decided to call it a day -- or half hour, as it were -- and play some computer golf while I waited for Chrissy to return.

Although her orientation was officially over today at eleven, we had decided to stay in Ithaca for another evening. We didn't know when, or if, we'd get another chance to spend an evening together this summer and we certainly didn't want to waste the opportunity.

We drove to a market near campus and bought some items for a picnic lunch. We went up to a state park on Cayuga Lake and spent the afternoon. Everything was so peaceful. We rented a canoe and rowed leisurely on the lake, lazily whiling away the afternoon.

We returned to town just after sunset and stopped for a pizza before heading back to the hotel room for our last night in Ithaca.

"What are you doing?" Chrissy asked.

"What do you mean?" I was replacing several Pepsis that we'd gotten from the honor bar over the past couple of days.

"Why are you putting soda back in there?" Chrissy was obviously unaccustomed to someone as miserly, er, frugal, as me. I explained to her about the cost of the honor bar and tried not to laugh along with Chrissy at my stinginess.

We called our families and then went to bed and made love again. We were starting to learn the little things that each other liked. Chrissy was still fairly passive in bed, but, to be fair, it was just her third night having sex, and tonight she seemed to be moving with slightly more aggressiveness in pursuit of her orgasms.

Friday, we drove home, leaving our fantasy retreat and once again returning to the reality of stolen moments and secret dates. It wasn't a great situation by any means, but we were resigned to it, and we were grateful for the few days that we had in Ithaca.
 
 

The remainder of the summer was fairly nondescript. A week after Chrissy and I returned from Ithaca, my family and I were flying to California for two weeks of vacation. Apparently, Karen didn't suspect a thing was amiss about my trip to New York and I was somewhat relieved that we were going to be away from home. While out west, I was able to fully concentrate on Karen and my family. Despite my love for Chrissy, I had never ceased loving my wife and this trip allowed me to concentrate my attention on her fully. Though I thought of Chrissy every day we were out there and managed to call her a few times, there wasn't the constant distraction of trying to fit in both her and my family, so in many respects this was even more of a vacation for me than Karen could have known.

Beth, and Patty especially, were thrilled with Disneyland and little Danny squealed with delight whenever he saw any of the large costumed Disney characters. We spent a week in Anaheim, and a week in San Diego and as the vacation went on and I was having so much fun being with my wife and family, I started to question my relationship with Chrissy. I wondered why I was risking such a happy life for an affair that had no future. I loved Chrissy, but where, realistically, could this relationship go?

Whatever doubts about my affair with Chrissy, they were immediately dispelled almost as soon as I got back home. We landed back home on Saturday and on Sunday, Karen took the kids to visit her mother. I took the opportunity to get together with Chrissy, and as soon as I saw her, I knew that there was no way that it would be humanly possible to break up with Chrissy. I'd had these doubts before, and every time I did, just being with Chrissy was all it took to vanquish them from my thoughts.

August seemed to fly by for both Chrissy and me. I was dreading Chrissy's departure in September to Cornell and Chrissy was, understandably, torn. While she didn't want to leave me, she was also extremely excited about beginning her college career.

One Saturday in late August, I had arranged to borrow my friend's beach house on the Cape for the day. I met Chrissy at nine in the morning at our usual meeting spot, and drove down Route 3 on the way to Cape Cod. I had kept my plans a surprise, all I told her was to bring a bathing suit.

"Where are we going Danny?" Chrissy pressed.

"I told you, it's a surprise." I teased.

"Well, I have a surprise for you too, but I might not let you know what it is." Chrissy chuckled.

We joked and teased each other for the rest of the ride to Dennisport, where we pulled up in front of my friend Jeff's beachfront home. Jeff was a very successful architect in Boston and had built a summer home on the Cape that he rarely used.

"Did you buy a house on the Cape?" Chrissy squealed as we pulled into the driveway.

"No, I don't have that kind of cake." I chuckled. "But a friend of mine has given me free use of his house for the day. I thought it would be a good place to get away....."

Chrissy cut me off, "I know what you thought it would be a good place to get away to do." She stuck her tongue out at me playfully.

"Well, it is such a big house, and we will be alone."

"You know, sometimes I think you're just a dirty old man," she grinned. "That's one of the things I love about you."

We went into the house and Chrissy went into the bathroom to change into her swimsuit as I fixed us a couple of drinks.

"I told you I had a surprise for you. Surprise!" Chrissy did a pirouette, wearing a white French bikini that stunningly complimented her deep tan and did very little to hide her charms, but did a great deal to get my heart racing. "Well, how do I look?"

"Amazing. Chrissy you're gorgeous."

She smiled and then pranced past me, heading out the sliding door to the deck. "I love when you say things like that to me."

We lay on the beach for a couple of hours, periodically frolicking in the water to cool off, before going in to eat lunch. When we finished with lunch and had cleaned the kitchen, Chrissy walked up behind me and gave my ass a frisky squeeze. "Race you to the bedroom."

I chased her upstairs to the master bedroom, nipping at her heels. When we got to the room, Chrissy started giggling and backed up to the bed. I took her in my arms and placed her gently on the bed. I untied her bikini and removed what little cloth there was covering her body. I brought my lips to hers and kissed her down her body until I reached her pussy. Since the first night we had made love, Chrissy had become quite fond of cunnilingus and whenever we were intimate, I always started off by going down on her. I spread her lips gently, discovering her to be already quite wet. I flicked her clit with my tongue, and felt her buck beneath. It was only a matter of a couple of minutes before she was screaming out her orgasm.

"Hey, get up here with me," she beckoned. "And get those shorts off."

"What do you have in mind, Ms. Miller?"

"You know damn well what I have in mind." Chrissy grinned lasciviously as she grabbed my cock in her hand and while I hovered over her, placed it at her entrance.

I plunged in and thrust into her forcefully, which I had discovered gave Chrissy the most pleasure. She liked to be fucked powerfully and deeply when I was on top, but she liked to control everything slowly when she was on top. Pumping away for the next fifteen minutes or so, I could hear Chrissy's breathing getting deeper as her moaning was getting louder. I felt the pressure building in my balls as well, and as I noticed Chrissy go over the top, I released my own brakes, and shot my load deep within Chrissy's pussy.

I rolled off of her, sweating and trying to catch my breath. Chrissy leaned over and kissed my nose before jumping up to run into the bathroom. After a couple of minutes she returned to bed, finding my breathing to be a bit more relaxed.

"Have I told you how hot you really get me?" Chrissy asked.

"I have a pretty good idea." I said, tracing circles on her flat belly with my fingers.

"No. I'm serious. I mean, you know you get me hot when you lick me or play with me down there, but what I'm talking about is just when we're together, or talking on the phone." She paused, "Even on the ride over here today, I was getting wet just being with you. I'll never love anyone as much as I love you. It's going to be really tough going away to school. And that's only a week away."

I had no idea what to say to her at this point. I felt a little bit like a schmuck, knowing that I also loved another equally. I figured that now was as good a time as any for my good news.

"Speaking of school. Do you remember me telling you about the project that my firm was bidding on in Syracuse?"

"Yeah! Did you get it? Well?" She was extremely bubbly and impatient.

"Yes, and I'll be heading it up. It'll start in early October. I'll be in Syracuse two or three days a week. There'll even be some weeks where I'll have to be there all week."

Chrissy rolled over on top of me and lavished me with kisses of happiness. She was really excited and her attentions brought my flaccid penis back to life. I positioned her correctly and entered her from below. She rocked herself on me and we made love for hours, relishing each other, in what was probably the last time we'd be together until October.
 
 

From the beginning of September, when she left for school, through mid October, Chrissy and I had to resign ourselves to E-mails and the occasional phone call. Every day was a new experience for Chrissy and her excitement and enthusiasm in each call and E-mail just burst outward like the bloom of so many flowers. She was absolutely enamored with her first year of college life and I had to admit that I was feeling a certain amount of longing for her -- and maybe even jealousy that she was having so much fun without me.

On the other hand, my guilt over my affair with Chrissy made me much more attentive to Karen. Without having to make time for Chrissy, I was able to concentrate my attentions solely on my wife. I became much more romantic than I'd been in years; I bought her flowers for no special reason, I'd do little things around the house without her having to ask me...three of four times. I'd arrange for a babysitter and then prepare wonderful candlelight dinners for her and follow them with passionate lovemaking the likes of which we hadn't done since we were in our mid twenties.

If Karen suspected that my attentions were to hide anything, or for an ulterior motive, she certainly didn't let on. I think she felt that I was doing all of these little extra things because I felt guilty about the upcoming project in Syracuse, and the amount of time I'd be spending away from home. Which was partly true. I did feel guilty about the whole situation, and I guess my extra attention was how I placated my own guilt about my double life.

However, when October came, I was as happy as a kid on Christmas morning at the prospect of being reunited with Chrissy. The first night I was in Syracuse, Chrissy left campus after her last class of the day and an hour later met me for an early dinner at a restaurant in Syracuse. Hardly able to contain our excitement, we rushed through dinner, after which we returned to my suite and proceeded to make love all night. We tore at each other wantonly as soon as we entered the bedroom. Our lovemaking was at first animal-like, then tender, then playful, but above all and throughout it was the passion of two people deeply in love, reunited after a long absence.

When we had finished after about four hours, Chrissy raised her head to look at me, "You know, I have a class at nine and it's already one. I'm going to be exhausted."

"Well you were a naughty girl tonight." I teased.

"Maybe I need a spanking..." Chrissy winked overtly. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" she shrieked as I was starting to roll her over.

Over the next several weeks, despite my three day a week presence in Syracuse, Chrissy and I really didn't have that much opportunity to see each other. By December, things on my end were moving smoothly enough that I didn't need to work fourteen hour days, and was able to have some free time to spend with Chrissy. However for Chrissy, finals were right around the bend and the last thing I wanted to do was distract her from studying for her first semester's exams.

As it turned out, during the eight weeks that I'd been coming to Syracuse for the project, we'd only gotten together six times; although, we usually found time to talk to each other on the phone before bed. Hardly a substitute, but simply hearing the sound of Chrissy's voice describe her day was almost enough for me. But my frustration was not limited to missing Chrissy, during my days in Syracuse I also dearly missed my wife and kids. I had taken the assignment to find a way to be closer to Chrissy, and I was grateful for the time I had with her, but it was also difficult for me to be away from my family several days a week. Yes, I had my cake, but all things considered, I would have rather been able to eat it back home.

Christmas break came for Chrissy, and she stayed at my hotel in Syracuse for a couple of nights after her finals were over. The first day we stayed in the room all day long making love, stopping only for naps and food we'd ordered from room service. On the second day, we actually ventured out of the room and braved the frigid December air to do some Christmas shopping. Chrissy and I had established early on in our relationship that our birthday and Christmas presents to each other would be of the more modest, personal variety. For Christmas, I bought Chrissy an original O. Henry collection that she had mentioned once to me, while she bought me a video that I had wanted and a couple of pairs of silk boxer shorts, which she said she found sexy on me.

The remainder of Chrissy's freshman year was a whirlwind, and though we got to see each other more often than first semester, between Chrissy's school work and my project, we didn't spend nearly as much time together as we had wanted. Chrissy got a job as an intern at a Boston law firm for the summer, and with me still going to Syracuse three days a week, got to see each other even less than in the school year. We talked at length about how we seemed to be drifting apart and Chrissy came up with a temporary solution. For her first semester of her sophomore year, she managed to arrange her schedule so that the bulk of her classes were on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. She had a three-hour class on Tuesday mornings, but that meant that she had Thursdays free.

Wednesday nights and Thursday mornings were our haven. Every Wednesday at three, after her last class ended, Chrissy would make the hour drive to meet me in Syracuse for dinner, after which we'd go back to my hotel and make love well into the night. I arranged my schedule so that I'd have Thursdays off. In fact I altered my schedule to arrive in Syracuse on Monday and would work Monday through Wednesday, and then leave for home on Thursday afternoon.

Thursdays, if we didn't have plans, Chrissy and I slept late, hung around the room, ordered room service and otherwise used the time simply to talk with each other and spend time alone together. It was like a weekly honeymoon, and these days and nights lent more solidity to our relationship and cemented it more than we would have ever thought possible.

I was truly leading a double life, however. Back home for three or four days, I was married to Karen; in Syracuse, at least for a day a week, Chrissy was my de facto wife. Amazing as it sounds, and despite the complexity required in keeping my two lives separate, I was deliriously happy during this time.

We weren't as lucky with Chrissy's schedule during the second semester of her sophomore year. She had chosen Economics as her major, and there were specific classes that she was required to take and the combination of which wouldn't allow for a free day. We were disconsolate, our one special day ripped from our grasp. We tried to get together at least once a week, but with our two schedules, the logistics at times precluded even that.
 
 

Early in February while I was home, Karen brought up our annual spring break trip to Florida to visit my parents and escape the harsh New England winter.

"Babe, I was looking at some airfares online earlier, when do you want to make reservations for Florida?" Karen asked Saturday night after we had tucked the kids into bed.

"Well, about that..." I had concocted a plan that I was deathly afraid of implementing.

"What? Don't tell me we're not going to be able to go this year. You know how much the kids look forward to going, not to mention how excited your folks are to see them. Danny is doing so many new cute things, every day. Why can't we go?" Karen scowled and her brow knotted up.

"Wait a minute, honey. Please, give me a second." I smiled in an attempt to settle her down. "I didn't say we couldn't go. But I don't think that I'll be able to go. I still think the rest of you should go."

"Oh Dan," she sighed, obviously upset with me. "This project is taking up so much more of your time than I thought it would. You're never home anymore."

"Karen, honey, what can I do. I can't very well quit, or leave the project. We're two-thirds of the way through."

"Well you have a family here, and we miss you. And it hurts that you seem to look forward to going every week." Karen's voice started to crack, despite her best efforts to hide it.

I tried to reach out for her to comfort my wife, but she would have nothing of it. "I'm sorry if I love my job. But that doesn't mean I don't miss being away from you and the kids."

"The whole thing just sucks. I can't wait until this project is over so I can have my husband back -- full time." Karen had no idea what a double meaning her statement had.

------

I drove Karen and the kids to Logan airport Friday afternoon for their flight to Orlando, where my parents would pick them up to start their week vacation. The kids were particularly sad that I wasn't joining them and that we'd be separated for more than a week. Little Danny, now 2 1/2 was going to be adorable to see in Disney World and I really questioned my sanity to miss those memories. However, I was in too deep with Chrissy and I was too entrenched in my double life to let some admonishment from my conscience get in the way. I watched with mixed emotions as their plane taxied onto the runway, its four o'clock takeoff right on schedule.

I went to an airport bar, attempting to wash away my guilt with a couple of Rum and Cokes as I awaited the arrival of Chrissy's flight from Syracuse, which was due at 5:15. I met Chrissy at the gate, not quite three sheets to the wind, but with four drinks in me, it was good that my only task for the rest of the evening was to sit back and relax.

Chrissy and I proceeded to our own gate, awaiting our flight to Miami, where we'd catch a connecting flight to St. Thomas in the US Virgin Islands. After spending tonight in Charlotte Amalie, we would take a water launch to the neighboring island of St. John in the morning. That was our plan, spend a week in the Virgin Islands, away from the pressures of everyday life in a place where the two of us could freely be together, without a worry in the world.

We settled into our seats on the half-empty flight to Miami and listened disinterestedly as the flight attendant went through her safety talk, showing us where the exits were how to use the seat cushions as life rafts. Let's face it, I thought, if the plane went down there were going to be 120 screaming, panicked people on board and the only thing the majority of us would remember to do would be to soil ourselves. Maybe I shouldn't have had anything to drink before boarding, it certainly gave me a very dour outlook.

Shortly after takeoff, Chrissy noticed my bleak expression. "What's wrong, sweetie? Have you been drinking?"

"I had a couple of drinks waiting for your plane to land." I hesitated telling Chrissy that I was upset about being separated from my family, but I suppose the alcohol had an effect on loosening my tongue. "I shouldn't say this, because I don't want you to think this has anything to do with you. And it doesn't. But this is the first vacation that they've gone on without me and I suppose I miss them. Danny's right at that real fun age, where everything is a wonder and I'm going to miss that. Patty promised to take a lot of video, but it's not the same." Chrissy and I never talked much about my family; usually when we did, it was just about the kids, anyway. I'm really not sure what her reaction would be, but I really didn't think that discussing my family with my girlfriend was something she really wanted to do, although she never complained or showed any aggravation when the subject of my family arose.

Chrissy tried to give me a consoling smile as she stroked my arm. "I wish there was something I could say. I guess now you have a feeling of how Karen and I feel at times."

"What do you mean?" I stiffened, not knowing in which direction this conversation was heading.

"Now, you're the one who misses someone. I know when you're not with me, I miss you to death. I also assume that when you're not with Karen, she misses you. Now you're missing being with the kids. It hurts not being with the one -- or ones -- you love." Chrissy grimaced a bit in sympathy and I think for the first time in the almost two years that I'd been having an affair with her, I began to realize that I wasn't the only one in this warped triangle who was twisting in the breeze.
 
 

We sat on the top deck of the ferry, soaking in the 77 degree temperature and the Caribbean sun, as we ferried from the larger island of St. Thomas to the more secluded island of St. John in about 45 minutes. We approached the main harbor; its color, the lightest azure. It was filled with scores of sailboats, their shining white masts bobbing in the water like so many tin soldiers, guarding the shore.

Chrissy and I grabbed our luggage and disembarked, getting into a waiting taxi to take us to our resort in Cruz Bay. On the short ride to the hotel, which was actually a collection of private villas, Chrissy marveled at how absolutely green the island was. I had been before, but St. John never ceased to impress and relax me. This was the perfect setting for a getaway.

We unpacked, and went for a walk around the grounds, investigating the resort. Later, we rented bicycles and I attempted to keep up with Chrissy as we rode around the hilly island. We pedaled by Caneel Bay and stopped on the beach at Maho Bay to rest for a while and Chrissy was suitably impressed with the beautiful virgin white beaches and the most verdant landscape she'd ever seen.

Midway through our exploration, as we were riding back up toward the top of the island, we pulled off the side of the road onto an observation lookout near Konge Vey National Park and I pointed out to Chrissy the various islands in the distance. I indicated to her the US possessions of Mary Point and the tiny island of Whistling Cay, and the UK possessions of small Sandy Cay, Great Thatch and a larger island to the east known as Jost Van Dyke.

"Hey, didn't he play a comedy writer on TV married to Mary Tyler Moore?" Chrissy deadpanned but her blue eyes sparkled.

"Yes, that was the Jost Van Dyke show, he also starred in Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang and Mary Poppins.... smartass." I laughed along with Chrissy as we sat in the grass by the side of the road, thoroughly enjoying each other's company.

We returned to the resort exhausted from our long bike expedition, ate a late lunch and swam the afternoon away before settling on a light room service meal in our villa. We ate dinner and then decided to try out our villa's private jacuzzi.

I sighed as the water glistened on Chrissy's skin, subtly lighted by the millions of stars in the clear Caribbean sky. Surrounded by lush greenery, our villa was tucked away from the prying eyes of others and Chrissy smiled devilishly as she removed her bikini. Not being a complete moron, I took the cue and slid down my own suit, tossing it over the edge onto the brick patio as I took Chrissy into my arms and we made love.

The warm bubbles surrounding us made for a much different feeling than we were accustomed to when having sex, and whether that was the reason, or if it was being together in this island paradise, but Chrissy became very aggressive in our love making. Although we were out of the eyesight of others, I'm quite sure that they weren't out of earshot of Chrissy's loud outbursts as she forcefully rode me to several orgasms of her own until I came too. After giving me a little time to recover, she began kissing and seductively fondling me to another erection. When I was hard again, she leaned over the edge of the hot tub, presenting her backside to me, imploring me to fuck her hard from behind.

Who was I to argue?

After returning inside the villa, I smiled as I reflected about how much Chrissy had grown over the time that we had known each other. She was no longer the shy girl I first met; now she was an assertive, aggressive woman, who knew what she wanted and grew more wonderful with each passing day. Someday, I thought, someone is going to be very lucky to marry her.

Then it struck me -- perhaps for the first time, but hard and flush in the face -- that however fantastic our time together was, it was finite. As obvious as it seemed, I was a married man, and we both knew I wasn't going to divorce my wife. I suppose that I had been ignoring reality or deluding myself into thinking that what we had could go on forever. Whatever it was, I looked sadly upon Chrissy's form as she lay peacefully sleeping beside me, knowing that one day this incredible fairy tale that we were living had to come to an end.

-----

The rest of the week flew by, occupying our time with tennis, snorkeling, bicycling, long walks, and swimming; interrupted only to eat, sleep, take a day trip to St. Thomas to shop in what can only be described as a duty-free shoppers paradise, and of course, make love each evening -- and some mornings, too.

Friday, on our last night in St. John we took a long walk around the resort's grounds before returning to our villa shortly after nine. I had arranged for room service to deliver a bottle of champagne in our absence so it would be waiting for Chrissy and me when we returned for the evening.

Chrissy sat on the sofa in the living room while I poured us two glasses of the sparkling wine.

"Champagne," Chrissy stated. "What's the special occasion?"

"Well, I just thought it would be nice for our last night in paradise."

"You're such a romantic," she smiled and ran a finger down my forearm. "Unless of course you're just trying to get me drunk." Chrissy teased.

"Oh, I don't have to get you drunk for what I have in mind." I laughed and gave her a slight kiss.

"Well, maybe I need to for what I have in mind." Chrissy looked up coyly, a little unsure of herself, perhaps.

I chuckled uneasily. "What do you mean, Chris?"

"Well...," she took a deep breath and averted her eyes from mine. "Every once in a while some of us sit around and talk about men and sex, and um, well, a couple of weeks ago the subject of....oral, um..." Chrissy was stammering badly. It was amazing how dirty she could talk in the midst of sex, yet how reserved about the subject she was at other times.

"Are you talking about Oral sex -- blowjobs?"

She just nodded her head, still looking downward, her cheeks a deep crimson.

"Is there something you want to know?" I moved closer and place my arm around her.

"Well, um, some of the girls were talking about how they do that with their boyfriends," Chrissy seemed a little more relaxed as she took another sip of champagne and looked up at me. "They were surprised that I've never done it. I know I love the feeling I get when you eat me -- you know how much I love that. Do you like that..... um, would you like it if I did that to you?"

It was my turn to blush a bit. "Yes, actually, I, uh, I like that quite a bit."

"Why haven't you ever asked me to do it?"

"I don't know. I suppose I never wanted you to feel that you have to do something that you might not be ready for. You've never mentioned it or shown any inclination to do that when we're fooling around, so I didn't want to make you feel awkward. I may like that, but I love you."

She leaned over and brushed her lips seductively against mine, before taking my hand and leading me into the bedroom.

Chrissy took my shirt off and began kissing her way down my chest, pausing to suck each of my nipples into her mouth. She stopped when she got to the top of my pants, looking up at me entrancingly as she unbuckled my belt and pulled my pants down. Already beginning to harden, my cock tented in my briefs before Chrissy removed those as well.

"I really don't know what I should do, so let me know if I'm doing something wrong." Chrissy smiled as she grasped my erect prick in her hand.

"Why don't I lie down, and let's see about getting you a little more comfortable. You're a little over dressed." I teased.

Chrissy quickly stepped out of her dress and discarded her panties as I jumped on the canopied bed, my erect cock bobbing wildly.

She approached my stiff rod and took it firmly in her hand, glancing up at me, almost seeking my approval or permission to proceed.

Far be it from me to turn down a blowjob, I simply smiled at Chrissy. "Just pretend that it's a popsicle and use your tongue as you suck on it."

With one hand firmly around the base, Chrissy tentatively flicked her tongue along the tip, feeling her way around. She licked up one side and down the other several times before opening her lips wide and enveloping me with her mouth. This was not the best blowjob I'd ever received, nor was it the worst, by any stretch. Chrissy was enthusiastic, however, and enthusiasm can make up for talent in many cases, and she used my grunts and words of encouragement to improve her technique.

After a few minutes, Chrissy was bobbing on my shaft almost expertly, and the pleasure was virtually too much to bear. I had to concentrate hard to control myself; the last thing I wanted to do was shoot off in Chrissy's mouth on her first blowjob.

After about ten minutes of increasingly skillful fellatio, I pulled Chrissy off my penis and brought her up for a kiss.

"How was it?" she held her breath and bit her lower lip.

"Oh, Chrissy. That was amazing. Terrific." I beamed at her as she scooted next to me. She began playing idly with my penis before rolling atop me and impaling herself on my hardness. Chrissy rode me like that for over an hour, just slowly rocking her hips back and forth, at times leaning forward to allow my mouth access to her wonderfully firm breasts, at others joining lips with mine in amazingly sensual kisses.

Chrissy's hip movements became increasingly more erratic and her breathing got ragged as her climax neared. As she rode me harder, I could feel her vaginal muscles tighten on my cock. The pressure on me was unbearable and with two more thrusts, I was shooting my load deep within Chrissy's spasming pussy as she was grunting her orgasm.
 
 

Chrissy and I got together at least once a week over the remainder of her sophomore year. Once again, she got a summer job as an intern with the same Boston law firm as the previous summer. We had several daytime dates but were only able get together romantically a couple of times during the summer, which was a constant source of frustration for both of us.

To compound our frustration, as her Junior year was nearing, Chrissy's mother began to become more inquisitive about Chrissy's love life -- or lack thereof, in her mother's eyes. Chrissy was getting more frustrated in her mother's persistent personal questions. She really couldn't tell her about me, but that left a gaping void in her mother's perceptions of her dating life.

"Do you know what she asked me on the phone the other night?" Chrissy asked me in late September in my hotel room. I shrugged.

"She asked if I was a lesbian." Chrissy related her conversation. "She said, 'you know Christine,' she never calls me Christine unless she's upset or nervous about something. 'You know Christine, I'm curious. You haven't mentioned anything about boys in a couple of years. You're not a lesbian, are you?' she emphasized the word lesbian, like you'd emphasize 'mass-murderer' or something like that. Can you believe that?"

I shook my head. "So, are you?" I joked and soon realized that it was not the thing to do.

"Dammit Danny! I'm trying to be serious. This is bothering me." Chrissy fumed.

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean..." I hung my head, regretting my penchant for ill-timed humor.

"I know, but it's frustrating. I told my mother that I'd dated a few guys, but nothing was serious. Can you believe, she asked if I was a lesbian? But what could I tell her? I can't very well tell her about you. I think she'd be happier if I were hitting from the other side of the plate," she chuckled slightly at her joke. "I've got this secret life. We both do. Only a couple of my close friends at school know about you. It's very distressing.

"I feel as though I'm some sort of outcast. 'You can't take the freakish Miller girl where we might be seen'." She said in an overt British accent and smiled out of frustration. "I know why we can't, but it really sucks. I would love for us just to be boyfriend and girlfriend, just able to go anywhere we want, not caring who knows about us."

I didn't know what to say to Chrissy so I just held her tightly to me in silence as we fell asleep. For the first time since our relationship began, Chrissy and I didn't make love on a night in which we were sleeping together.

-----

Schoolwork was more difficult for Chrissy than it had been the previous two years, she was now taking mostly required courses in her major, and the extra workload was causing her additional stress, which at times was being focused at me. In addition to the stress of the additional school work, my project in Syracuse was slated to be wrapped up by mid November. That meant months of not being able to see each other, which admittedly, was not something that either of us was willing to confront.

"Danny, what is it that we're doing? Define our relationship." Chrissy looked at me pensively.

"I love you, you know that." I was unsure of what she wanted from me.

"I know you love me. I love you too," she said with a little exasperation in her voice. "But define our relationship."

"You're my girlfriend. Honey, I don't know what you want." I sighed.

"We've been going out for 2 1/2 years, and I still really don't know where I stand."

"We knew what we were getting into when we started out, it's not as if all of this is new or a surprise." I said.

"I know, but that doesn't mean that I have to be happy with it." Chrissy fidgeted, and put her head down in frustration.

"What do you want me to do?" I paced around the room, not knowing where all this was going. "You knew I had a wife and kids when we started this. Chrissy, I love you with all my heart."

She snickered derisively, "All your heart? Don't you mean half your heart?"

"Chrissy, honey. I mean all my heart. When I'm with you I love you wholly, completely. Yes, I love Karen. Is that what you wanted to hear?" I raised my voice a bit. "That I love my wife. There, I've said it. I've never hidden that from you. What do you want from me?"

"I don't know," she cried in frustration. "I suppose you said it yourself. 'when I'm with you'. You don't get it. See, wherever you are, you're with someone you love. Whether you're with me or Karen, you're with someone you're totally in love with. But when you're not with me, I'm alone. And what's worse is that I know you're with someone who you love as much as me. It's just getting tougher for me to deal with that." She softened and a tear began rolling down her cheek.

"Come here," I held her crying body in my arms, unsure of what to say, but pretty confident that I had no words that would make Chrissy feel better.

We tried to maximize our time with each other in the fall. I made a pretense of needing to stay in Syracuse for a couple of weekends, just so Chrissy and I could have some time together.

Despite our best efforts, we could both sense that everything was unraveling in front of us and we were powerless to do anything about it. We tried to treat our time together like it had been in the past. But there was always a pall over us, an impending doom that we were just too afraid to confront. Our relationship had become deep and strong and was in desperate need of growing, but, given our situations -- well, specifically, my situation -- that was nearly impossible.

November came sooner than either of us hoped. We hadn't resolved what we were going to do -- perhaps forestalling the inevitable, perhaps ignoring reality -- but I think each of us had a bad feeling when we went for dinner in Ithaca on my last night in New York.

We had skirted around the whole issue for most of the meal, but as we finished eating, we both realized that we needed to talk about something more substantive than the weather.

Chrissy broke the silence, "You know, sometimes my roommates and I sit around talking about meeting 'The One', you know, the guy we're destined to be with. The thing that hurts the most is that I've already met 'The One.' I've been having an affair with the man I'm destined to marry for the past three years and I know I'll never be able to marry him."

"You'll meet someone else, Chrissy. You're brilliant and beautiful. You've told me about all the guys who are always asking you out." My words were hollow to her.

"You don't get it, Danny." Chrissy interrupted angrily, "it's not just meeting someone. It's about who we're destined to be with. I know that I love you more than I'll love any other man I'll ever meet, and you can't know how painful it is to know I can't have you."

"What do you want me to do? If there's something you want me to do, I'll do it. I'm willing to do whatever it takes not to lose you." I don't know where these words came from, but I meant them. I knew at this moment that I didn't want to lose Chrissy and was willing to do anything to prevent it. Even break a promise to myself and a vow to my wife.

"Danny, you can't. I can't ask you to do that. Not to your kids, you love them so much, I couldn't watch you hurt them.... Oh, I love you so much," she took a deep breath. "If you and Karen split up and we got together, it would destroy your kids, and I couldn't live with that. And you'd be miserable, too....you love her, I know that. There's no winning. We all lose, and it just sucks."

Chrissy started to cry and tried to hide it. I wanted to comfort her, to tell her that it would all be ok, like I tell my kids when they're upset, but I knew differently. It wouldn't be better and no words I had could pacify her or make it all better. Chrissy eventually would get over it -- me -- but that wouldn't change the way she felt. I wish there was something that I could do to ease her pain, but unfortunately the only thing that would do that was the one thing that I wasn't sure if I could really go through with. I think if I did separate from my wife, Chrissy would always feel guilty about splitting us up. It was a classic Catch-22 situation. Damned if we do, damned if we don't.

I paid the check and we walked out of the restaurant hand in hand. I noted ironically, that this was the same Northern Italian restaurant that Chrissy and I ate in during our first night in Ithaca, almost three years ago, for her freshman orientation. I hugged her tightly to me, respecting Chrissy too much to use false words of reassurance; it wasn't going to be all right -- and nothing we could say would change that. Her tears flowed heavily now, and I held her tightly, wishing to God I could have taken away all her pain. I knew that was impossible, so the least I could do was be there for her misery.

I reflected over the past three years with Chrissy. All of the stolen moments that we shared, all of the business trips that I had staged just to be with her. It was the most exciting roller coaster I could have ever gone on, but I had known that it had to end one day. In all my time with Chrissy, I never stopped loving my wife.

Was it possible to love two people simultaneously as thoroughly and completely as I loved Chrissy and Karen? I can't answer for others, but I knew I could; and I did. Was I deluding myself into believing that? I don't think so. Initially I was smitten with Chrissy. She made me feel alive again, but it grew to so much more than that. And now I was about to lose her -- forever -- and it felt more painful than I could have ever imagined. We knew this day would come eventually; on some level anyway, although we never spoke of the future for fear of addressing this moment. Now we were staring right into the mouth of the lion, unable to move forward, too far gone to go back.

Chrissy's tears began to subside and I wiped the remainders from her cheeks with my thumb. I looked down at her and realized that I had been crying too. How do you leave someone you're so completely in love with? I guess sometimes love just isn't enough.

"You know you've been my best friend for the past three years, probably the best friend I've ever had," my words were choked. "But you have your whole life ahead of you and no matter how much we love each other, our relationship is just holding you back. I couldn't live with myself if I thought that I was holding you back. I love you, and I always will, you know."

"I love you too. But you're right, things are just getting too complicated. I guess they always have been, we just ignored it. This isn't easy but I know if we don't end this now, I'm going to put up much more of a fight later on, and I don't want that. I couldn't do that to you....and it's not fair to Karen either."

There really wasn't much else to say at that point; all the words had been spoken. I held Chrissy in my arms, and gave her a kiss -- the saddest kiss I'd ever experienced in my life. From the parking lot of our Italian restaurant, Chrissy released the hug, looked up at me with a sad smile and pressed her fingertips softly against my lips. She walked to her car, leaving me to mine -- and my life. I sighed as I watched sadly as she drove away; I thought I could see Chrissy wipe tears from her eyes, but truth be told, my own eyes were too clouded to see clearly.
 
 

I sat toward the back of the assemblage, as I listened to the Dean of the Cornell School of Arts and Sciences read the names of the graduates. Her gown was red -- carnelian red -- and my chest swelled as I watched Chrissy approach the stage. I don't think there had been many other moments in my life in which I felt more pride.

I lingered after the ceremony, hoping to get a few words with her. We had exchanged a couple of E-mails over the previous year and a half, keeping in touch and remaining friends, but other than that it was over. I had gone back to my safe, sane, and secure life.

Chrissy had separated from her parents, presumably to change and get her car before meeting them later. She was walking across the field, stopping to exchange a hug with a friend as I moved toward her.

"Hi Chrissy," I said somewhat tentatively.

She spun and shrieked with excitment when she noticed me. "Danny! What are you doing here?"

"Well, I couldn't miss this," We hugged tightly and she kissed me chastely on the lips. She was more beautiful than ever.

"It was so sweet of you to come, Danny. I lov..." she stopped herself.

"I know," I smiled. "I love you, too."

I walked Chrissy across campus toward her car. She told me that she had been accepted to Harvard Law School, and had been dating a Physics major, but that ended painlessly a few weeks ago. I let her know what had been going on in my life -- mostly about the kids and work. It was so great being with Chrissy, even for a brief time. All of my memories of the times we had came flooding back to me and I couldn't help grinning widely as we spoke.

"I got you something for graduation," I handed her a small box.

"You didn't have to. That's so nice of you."

Chrissy's face dropped as she opened the box and noticed the diamond pendant that we saw four years earlier in a Boston jewelry store.

"Danny, you shouldn't have. It's beautiful. Thank you, I love it."

I took it out of the box and placed it around her neck. Chrissy ran her fingers over it and hugged me tightly. It was difficult holding her without all of the old feelings coming back, and I wasn't sure if I didn't want them to come back. Chrissy had given my life a sparkle that had been missing for the past year and just spending these few minutes with her again made me, for a moment, regret not being with her.

I broke the hug and looked at my watch. "My flight leaves in a couple of hours, I'm going to have to get going soon," I said ruefully.

"Oh," Chrissy sighed deeply. "I didn't think this day could have gotten any more special than it was, and then you showed up -- and this was too much. I can't believe you remembered," she smiled looking down at her pendant.

"I've never forgotten anything about you. You'll always hold a special place in my heart, you know that, don't you?" I said.

"I do. That's what's still so bittersweet. Even after all this time. But you have your life and I have mine and 'never the twain shall meet', whatever that means," she chuckled. "I don't know what my life would have been without you, Danny. I'm glad we had those three years. And I also think that it was best for us that we moved on, but I'll never stop loving you."

I smiled, "I'll never forget you, Chrissy. Someone is going to be extremely lucky someday."

Chrissy blushed and then beamed, "Somebody was already extremely lucky.... Me. For 2 1/2 years. Bye Danny."

I called to her as she was starting her car. "Hey, when you get back to Boston in the fall, do you want to get together and play some tennis?"

Chrissy stuck her head out the window and flashed her beautiful smile, "I think that has definite possibilities."
 
 

Fin

Did you like it?
I'd appreciate it if you let me know in an email. Thanks.