Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 M/g, Romantic, Consensual

   Please know, dear reader, that this story is a FANTASY, a FAIRY TALE. 
It is NOT REAL.  This is romance smothered in butter and drenched in
chocolate.  The events described here will never happen to you, not out
here in consensus reality.  If you ever attempt anything even resembling
this (outside the confines of your head), know that you are a RAPIST and
should have your balls crushed by hobnail boots; although, as a final
gesture to the romantic in you, I wouldn't object if those boots were worn
by a young girl.

   If you care to give me any feedback, I promise to thoughtfully read and
carefully consider any criticism or comment; please feel free to write me
at coeur_minuit@yahoo.com, and I will be much obliged to you.  And now the
story itself.

   Ben and Jen Start The MMT

   It was 6:00 on Thursday evening, and the hotel pool itself was actually
pretty neat.  Half of it was indoors and half was outdoors; the indoor half
was surrounded on three sides by standard walls, the fourth wall was glass,
with a gap in the middle that straddled the pool as an archway, sitting
about a foot above the surface of the water, so that swimmers could pass
back and forth between indoor and outdoor by swimming under the archway. 
Ben surveyed the situation for a minute.  He had hoped to swim a few laps,
followed by a soak in the whirlpool tub that sat in the corner of the
indoor portion, but both the pool and whirlpool were choked with shrieking
children and bored parents.  Not exactly conducive to relaxing, he scowled
briefly, then headed through the door to the outside section.  He had been
here in Chicago for four days now, suffering through the user conference
that the bank wanted him to attend.  He had planned from the beginning to
use the pool facilities, but hadn't yet gotten the chance.  The first night
had been an icebreaker gathering at a downtown bar and grill, hosted by
Newleaf (the software company whose conference this was) that lasted until
midnight; the second night was a formal dinner and river cruise, again
hosted by Newleaf.

   Then last night that idiot Ericson had dragged him to a damn karaoke
bar, tagging along with some of the conference attendees from a credit
union in Atlanta.  Ben noted with dour amusement that, true to his history,
Ericson had targeted the blonde in the group, who he had been nursing a
pathetic crush on (what was her name again?  Leelah?  Lilly?  oh, yeah,
Lilith).  Karaoke.  Ye gods.  Who goes to a karaoke bar?  Even just sitting
in the audience was an embarrassment.  Ericson had tried so hard to get him
to participate; at one point, it was him, Lilith, and three other women,
all approaching the high side of intoxication, all gesturing and beckoning
to get him up on stage as they stumbled their way through "Magical Mystery
Tour".  Weirdest part was, when it came to a specific line in the song,
Lilith had pointed right at Ben with both hands and yelled (didn't even
sing it, just yelled), "SATISFACTION GUARANTEED"; and as if that had been
some kind of signal, at that moment a lighting panel at the back of the
stage made a deafening POP and a shower of purple and green sparks sprayed
over a handful of tables, the closest of which Ben was parked at.  The
girls and Ericson shrieked at that, while Lilith came down from the stage,
put her hand on Ben's shoulder, and fixed him with a fey grin as she asked,
"You good to go, sport?" Ben could only nod dumbly and watch as she
bizarrely traced some kind of pattern in the spilled beer on the table,
then flicked a couple of drops at his forehead.  Okay, so that had been at
least marginally interesting.  He felt light-headed for a couple of hours
after that, strange and even a little floaty; but he supposed it had been
the beer.  What on earth had possessed him to try Sacred Mushroom stout? 
The whole evening had been one weird trip.

   So now here he was, four days in, and hadn't even gotten so much as his
toes in the pool yet.  Well.  What the hell.  He found an empty table with
a large umbrella, dropped his USA Today from the lobby and his copy of "The
Fellowship of the Ring" on the table, and plopped down with no small
feeling of resignation, wondering briefly how much of a dork he looked like
in his Batman t-shirt and Hawaiian flowered swim trunks.  He tried to read
a few pages in the book, but it was no use; the noise from the pool was
just too much to shut out.  As he watched the sun sparkles from the water
jumping insanely around the patio, a drowsiness started to creep over him;
a vague paralysis that the hypnotic dancing of the reflected sunlight only
enhanced.  It was beginning to feel like one of those lazy, drowsy summer
afternoons where you could expect to follow a rabbit down a hole and wind
up in a parallel universe.  He stretched out his legs and felt his head
starting to slowly tilt back as he surrendered to fatigue.  The sound of
someone's radio at poolside gradually picked its way through his
consciousness; when he realized the song he was hearing was "Magical
Mystery Tour", his curiosity picked up a tiny bit, but not enough for him
to come back to full awareness of his surroundings.  It felt like only a
couple of minutes later that someone tripped over his outstretched limbs;
his eyes flew open, his head jerked up, and he saw a small brunette,
looking to be about 12 years old, sprawled on the patio deck.  As she
raised herself to her knees, the strap of her rainbow bikini top nearly
came untied, and she was dangerously close to showing her breasts before
she was able to reach behind her back with amazing dexterity to tie the
strap back in place.  She looked over at Ben; the redness on her face was
not sunburn but humiliation, and Ben's heart went out to her.  She was
stuttering her apology and saying what a klutz she was, and Ben was
shushing her and saying everything was fine.  He took her arm to help her
to her feet, and as he put his hand on her back to steady her, he realized
the feel of her skin beneath his fingers was very pleasant; at some animal
level, he wanted more, but his superego was firmly in the driver's seat,
and he released her as she righted herself.

   "Here," he said, "sit down, get your bearings." She smiled gratefully
and plopped into the chair next to Ben, rubbing her bruised knees.  As her
eyes came to rest on his book, she let loose a small cry of delight.  "Oh,"
she said, "you're reading Lord of the Rings!  I love those books!" Ben was
unable to conceal a grin; this kid was all right.

   "Yep," he smiled, "I've been reading and re-reading them since I was ten
years old, although the older I get, the more time goes by between
re-readings.  I just never seem to find the time anymore."

   "Oh," she said brightly, "how old are you?", and immediately clapped her
hand over her mouth as she realized what an awkward question that was. 
"No, I'm sorry, nevermind, that was totally stupid, please ignore it!"

   Ben just laughed.  "I'm 45," he said, "but some days I feel like 10, and
other days," and he used air quotes to puntuate his silently mounted 'like
today', "I feel like a hundred."

   Her smile was more reward than he could have asked for.  She held out
her hand and said, "I'm Jennifer, but my friends usually call me Jen." Ben
shook her hand and said, "Ben.  Well, actually Benjamin, but I've got the
same thing as you, it gets shortened to Ben all the time." She was so
sweet, so fresh, her smile intoxicating; this girl was definitely doing
something to him, although he had no idea what it was.  It wasn't sexual,
he knew that for sure; but it didn't feel like infatuation or tenderness
or...  he supposed it was feelings that had been buried for so long that he
no longer knew what to call them.  He suppressed a nearly overwhelming urge
to take her face in his hand, instead settled for, "So what kind of stuff
do you like besides Lord of the Rings?"

   "Oh, anything fantastical.  Ursula LeGuin, Frank Herbert, Stephen
Donaldson, Jack Vance, all that kind of stuff." Holy hell.  How had she
managed to name, much less enjoy, this random sampling of his own
favorites? "And poetry!  I just love poetry.  Like Sylvia Plath, Robert
Frost, Robert Bly, Gwendolyn Brooks, Alan Ginsberg..."

   Ben held up his hand to stop her.  "Are you a witch?" he said with a
half-smile, "All the writers you just named are ones that I love too."
Jen's eyes opened wider as her eyebrows inched halfway up her forehead,
"For real?" she gasped, "That's amazing!  It's almost like we were meant
to...  uh..." and she trailed off because she didn't really know how to how
to finish.  Ben touched her forearm; to ground himself, to redirect her
attention, but mostly because he just needed to feel her skin again, even
if only for a second.  "Most people don't read this stuff until so much
later in life!  You sound like a college girl.  How old are you, kiddo?"

   "I'm 12," she said simply; then, as if she owed him more of an
explanation, said, "We had to cancel our cable TV a while back, dad said it
cost way more than it was worth, but he felt bad about depriving me, so
almost every Sunday he takes me to the library so I can load up.  And you
know what?  He's right.  Books are so much better than TV.  I mean, I still
watch TV every once in a while when I'm over at Amber's house, that's my
friend from next door...  but anyway, I have my books, so I'm good."

   "Wow," was all Ben could muster; after taking a few seconds to digest
this, he tried again, but all he could manage was "Wow." A fellow
bibliophile, and a kid at that.  How rare was that these days?  He sat
looking at her for another few seconds, realized that the desire to know
more about her had morphed into a need, something undeniable; but he
couldn't think at the moment of where to start.  Feeling the mundane
starting to creep in, he settled for the harmlessly generic, "So, where you
from, Jenny-poo?"

   "Oh!" she squeaked, "that's what my dad calls me!" She seemed geuinely
pleased by the reference, said "So, how about if I call you Benny-poo?"
This wrenched a snort of laughter from Ben, "Okay by me."

   "We're from Topeka," she continued, "my mom and dad and stupid brother."
She pointed to a boy who looked about 10 years old, doing a cannonball from
the diving board.  "Dad wants us to see Washington, DC, so we drove here
yesterday, and tomorrow we're driving on to Cleveland, I think, and then
Washington."

   "That sounds nice," Ben said.  "My folks used to take us all over when I
was a kid.  Good times.  I'm glad to hear you're getting the same
treatment. You'll enjoy it now and you'll be glad of the experience when
you get older."

   Another sweet smile; he definitely felt something flutter in his gut
when she flashed it at him.  "How about you?" Jen asked, "what are you here
for?"

   "I do computer support for a bank in Boulder.  We use a software package
for wealth management, made by a company here in Chicago, and once a year,
the company holds a week-long conference where we meet people from banks
and credit unions around the country who use their product.  We take
classes and sit through sales pitches on how great the new releases are
gonna be.  It's okay, I guess, but this is the fourth year I've had to go
to this thing, so for me it's mostly an undesired vacation."

   "Oh come on," Jen said playfully, "a week away from work and you get to
stay in a swell hotel like this?  Doesn't sound too bad to me."

   "Well...  maybe not," Ben said slowly, "but look at this crap." He
gestured to the writhing mass of bodies in the water.  "I've been trying to
get in this pool since Monday night but I keep getting dragged away.  This
is the first real chance I've had to swim, but there's no way I'm getting
in that," the last word leaving his mouth with a virulence he hadn't quite
intended.

   "Wellll..." Jen's thoughtful expression as she stroked her chin was a
joy to behold; what about this kid was not delightful?  "I guess you could
try later, maybe the little shits will all be in bed by then." Ben gaped at
her for a second before erupting in raucous laughter.  "Ho...  holy shit!"
he said helplessly, "Jenny-poo, you are an absolute treasure!  If
everything else about this trip sucks, just meeting you makes it all
worthwhile!" Jen turned her head and blushed furiously at this; when she
looked back to Ben, her smile filled her face with such radiance that it
literally took his breath away.

   "I'm really glad I met you too, Benny-poo." She reached over to touch
his forearm; her hand lingered just a little longer on his skin than would
have been needed as a casual punctuation, and he got the distinct
impression she was trying to feel the hair on his arm without actually
appearing to.  He reached over to take her hand in his, and for maybe 5 or
6 seconds, they just sat there holding each other's hands and gazing into
each other's eyes.  Ben's pulse quickened and that strange, fluttery
feeling in his gut started to creep up toward his chest.  How many years
had it been since Angie had allowed him to touch her?  How long had it been
since he had even simply held a female hand like this?  Too long; even the
remembrance of it was gone.  This feeling, this flesh against flesh
contact, was not a recaptured memory, it felt like something entirely new,
like a sensation he had not experienced before.  There might have been a
warning bell going off somewhere in the back of his head, but he was
oblivious to it; the feeling of Jenny's fingers against his was just too
heady a sensation to ignore.

   As the released each other's hands, Ben asked, "So, how did you guys
come to stay at this hotel?  What strange, cosmic coincidence brought us
together like this?" and he gave her a wink of such exaggerated lewdness
that she couldn't help but giggle.  She pursed her lips for a second as if
deciding how to begin, then, "Dad wants us to stay in only decent places
for this trip, 'no fleabags' was how he put it." Her expression darkened.
"I know this place must be pretty expensive; I think dad's worried about
how much it costs, but he just wants to make sure his family enjoys the
trip...  he's so responsible, it really worries me 'cause I know it
stresses him and makes him sad about how much everything costs.  He tries
to hide it but...  I just wish I could help him somehow..." she said as her
eyes began to cloud up.  Ben's throat tightened at that; maybe his heart
trying to climb up into it left little space for anything else.  He had no
response, beyond an unformed desire to help them out somehow.  He essayed,
"Have faith, little one.  Your dad might be stressing, but he's an adult.
You don't get to be an adult without learning compromise and how to work
things out.  I'm sure your dad will land on his feet." Her smile of
gratitude managed to pull back the tear that had been threatening to form.

   They sat silent for a few seconds; the sounds of the city just beyond
the concrete wall reminded each of them that they were far from home.  When
Jen looked at Ben again, a quiet smile touched her lips.  "You know what
else I like about you?" she said coyly as she ducked her head to look up at
him, and her hand reached out to touch the Batman logo on his t-shirt. 
"You're a Batman fan, like me!" Ye gods.  How much more could this girl say
that was absolutely diamond perfect?  Ben smirked just a little; he decided
to see how far her fandom went.  "So, who's your favorite villain?" he
asked, expecting she would (but hoping she wouldn't) go for a
tried-and-true name like Joker or Penguin.  Of course, her answer was a
complete surprise, and utterly perfect.

   "That's a toughie," she mused, "but I have to go with Clayface.  For an
evil, amorphous blobby guy, he just has all this terrific storytelling
potential.  I've checked out the Batman animated shows on DVD from the
library, and I think they really used him better in that animated series
than in the comics, but he has some real moments in the comics too." Ben
opened his mouth and held up his finger, but she caught his unspoken
question as if it had been a nice juicy lob, and she returned it with a
powerful overhand, "Matt Hagen, the Matt Hagen version of Clayface, is my
favorite.  I mean, Preston Payne had Shakespearean potential, but for
straight-up story possibilities, I just like Matt better." And her smile
sent a spear of adrenaline through the left side of his chest that caused
him to forget to breathe for a few seconds, until the onrushing tide of
oxygen-depleted blood in his system forced the issue.

   Ben sat silent for a few seconds, struggling to absorb this beautiful
new side of her and decide if she were some sort of prodigy...  her
vocabulary, her cadence, her literary bent; in everything he had seen so
far, her intelligence shone out like a lighthouse on a lonely shore.  Jen
began to be worried by his reticence, afraid she might have said something
wrong; as he read the worry on her face, he realized he needed to say
something.  For another few seconds, he considered his answer, and the
surreal direction the conversation had taken; at length, he said,
"Jenny-poo.  You.  Are.  UNBELIEVABLE." He reached out to put his palm on
the top of her head for a second.  "Hmmm," he mused, "With everything
that's going on in that gorgeous little head of yours, I would have
expected your skull to be hot." Jen giggled appreciatively.  This was so
amazingly cool; this pudgy but handsome older guy wasn't talking down to
her or patronizing her, he seemed to be genuinely interested in everything
she had to say.  An inborn modesty prompted her to remark, "Oh, I'm not all
that, not really." Ben scowled and snorted, "DON'T you EVER say that, not
ever.  Jenny-poo, you are the most interesting person I've met in a long,
long time, probably in ever.  You are just about damn perfect, girlfriend.
Oh god, if only we had more time...  there are some comic shops here in
Chicago that I would just LOVE to haunt with you...  it's been so long
since I actually bought a comic book that I'd feel lost if I tried to get
back into it on my own...  but with a brain-heavy friend like you, I think
I might actually..." He drew a heavy sigh; his next words came out a little
before he had considered their impact.  "If only I were 30 years
younger..." Again, Jen found herself blushing, and her heart did a couple
of backflips.  This...  GUY...  this...  MAN...  GROWN man...  WANTED to be
with her, WANTED to go places with her...  and they would be places they
would both enjoy...

   A woman in a flowered sundress had stepped out onto the outer pool patio
and was waving in their direction.  "Jennifer," she called, "come on, get
your brother, we're going to get something to eat."

   "Oh god, no," Jen moaned, "just as I was finally having a conversation
worth having." She waved back and shouted "Okay mom, be right there." She
reached out to take hold of Ben's shirt sleeve as if she were trying to
hold him in place; "Will you be around later?  I haven't had this much fun
just talking to someone in, like, ever."

   Ben considered; "I might go out in a bit to get some dinner or
something, but otherwise I should be around."

   "Okay, great.  I...  I really hope I see you again later."

   "I'd like that too, Jenny-poo," he said, hoping she would be able to
read his sincerity.  "I mean, I'd love it.  You are just too damn much
fun."

   "Oh god!  'kay, bye Benny-poo, thanks!" As she jumped up from the chair,
the loose hanging end of her bikini top's strap caught on the chair's weave
and untied the knot she had tied a few minutes previously, causing the cups
to be yanked to the side, pulling her breasts with it.  "Ouch!" she
shouted, and gathered the material back over her breasts again.  Ben said,
"Come here, let's try a double overhand." She presented her backside to him
and he tied the strap back in place, then retied it as a double knot. 
"Rainbows, a natural curve," he murmured as he examined the fabric of her
suit and patted her back to let her know he was done, "that's about perfect
for you," and the urge to put his hand on her hip almost overwhelmed him,
although he managed to regain control in time.  Then without thought, the
words tumbled out, "and you fill out those curves so nicely, too." Now it
was his turn to blush as the full force of his careless observation hit
home, and he fumbled to recover, "I mean, the suit fits you nicely...  I
mean..."

   "No it doesn't," she pouted, "it doesn't do anything to hide how huge my
butt is getting."

   "Jenny, your butt is not...  I mean," and somewhere in his brain, his
moral compass started screaming 'shut up you idiot, just shut up.'

   "Sure it is, just look," and she put her hands on the arms of a chair
and turned to wiggle her butt at him, "it's monstrous!"

   "Jenny-poo, your butt is not huge, I swear it's true.  In fact, it's so
perfect, it beggars description," and he actually had to put his left hand
on his right arm to consciouly force the arm to remain on the table rather
than reaching out to stroke the luscious flesh of her gluteals.  "I'm not
going to lie to you, ever.  Please trust and believe me, your butt is
wonderful, it's perfectly magnificient, your whole body is just fine.  So
fine..."

   "Benny-poo," she started, and when she couldn't figure out how else to
respond, she ran over to the pool where her brother was hanging onto the
side and (gently) kicked him in the head.  "Come on," she shouted at him,
"mom says we're going to eat.  NOW!" Her brother splashed some water at
her, but hoisted himself up in obedience.  Jen turned to look at Ben; her
fingers came up to her mouth as if she were going to blow him a kiss, but
then she turned and ran full speed to where her mother stood waiting.

   After that, there was no use in remaining at the pool.  Ben vacated the
premises to return to his room.  After pulling on some clothes, he exited
the hotel to wander around the neighborhood for a bit.  Nothing appealed,
and despite the fact that he could have charged some deep dish pizza to his
expense account, he wound up at a 7-11 where he purchased a microwave
burrito, a bottle of Dr.  Pepper, and a bottle of Captain Morgan.  Back in
the quiet of his hotel room, he nuked and ate the burrito, then settled in
to watch CNN and work on the rum.  He got buzzed but not actually drunk;
just enough to fall asleep in the chair, then wake at 1:30, remember the
afternoon's meeting with Jen, and savagely curse himself for missing his
chance to see her again.  'Damn it.  Damn it all to hell anyway.' She had
been a brief sparkling encounter, a kiss on the nose from Tinkerbell... 
and now she had slipped out of his grasp.  All that was left was the
drudgery of the conference tomorrow, followed by a rush to the airport to
catch his 7:15 PM flight.  'Damn it.  Damn it to fuck.' And he stripped and
flopped down on the bed and was dead to the world.

   Came the dawn, Ben stood outside the door to the pool area and read the
small sign several times: "Pool hours 7 AM - 11 PM".  Feeling slightly
stupid standing there in just his swim trunks and Batman t-shirt, he
glanced at a clock on the wall near the front desk; 6:20.  Just for the
hell of it, he tried his room key card on the door's reader pad and felt a
slight gratification when it clicked open.  As he stepped into the empty
pool area, he felt a small irritation at the thought of having to sit next
to Ericson again at the conference today, and a rush of relief at the
thought of being able to head home tonight and put the whole thing behind
him.  He pulled a towel from the shelf by the door, walked over to a chair
sitting next to the whirlpool, dropped the towel on the chair, and shrugged
out of his shirt.  After turning the knob on the wall to start the bubble
jets in the whirlpool, he slowly made his way down the steps into water
that was just a half shade too hot for comfort and sank shoulder deep onto
one of the underwater seats.  'If there's a god of relaxation' he thought
as he closed his grateful eyes, 'consider this a prayer of thanks.'
Stretching his arms out to rest on either side of the pool edge, he felt
his body gently floating up toward the surface.  It was a good feeling; a
sensation of weightlessness gently flowed outward from his midsection and
cleared his mind to a nearly thoughtless state.

   The click of the pool door being opened was like a pebble bounced off
his head.  He opened his eyes a tiny bit, then a bit more; and when he saw
the person coming through the door was Jennifer, they opened all the way.

   "Jenny-poo!" he called, and the smile on her face when she saw him was a
jolt that quickened his pulse.

   "Benny-poo!" she squealed, "I didn't think there'd be anybody in here,
but there is, and look who it is!  Oh my god, this is magical!" She ran
around the edge of the swimming pool to plop down next to the whirlpool,
where she stuck her legs in the water, then slid down into the swirling
cauldron.  "Ooohh, god, that's hot!" she exclaimed as she settled on the
seat next to Ben.  "Yeah," he said, "but it's good for what ails you." She
flashed a brilliant smile and said, "So is good company, so I'm two for
two, right?" Again the heart jolt, and Ben's smile was almost an altered
state all to itself.

   "My family is still sleeping," she continued wistfully, "I tried to tell
dad I was going down to the pool but I couldn't rouse him.  No biggie, I
spoze, he'll figure it out."

   "Well, I'm so, SO glad you came down," Ben said, "I enjoyed our little
confab yesterday more than anything else I've done in a long, long time,
and I was furious with myself for falling asleep so early and missing my
chance to see you again." Jennifer blushed and looked away awkwardly; then
her face contorted as if she had been punched, even though she was still
just sitting there.

   "Ben," she started, then halted; it was clear she wanted to say
something very specific, but was having trouble finding the words.  Her
hand came up out of the water and snaked toward Ben's chest, toward the
sprinkle of hair that lay there.  "Ben, there's something I want to ask
you, but I'm not sure how to, or even if I should.  I mean, we only just
met, but we have so much in common, and we like each other so much," she
paused for a second, and Ben responded, "Yes, that's right, we do," which
emboldened her to continue.  She swallowed hard and said, "You remember how
I was telling you about some of my favorite poets," she began, and paused
again; he nodded, so she continued, "There's this poem by Denise Levertov,
it's called 'A Psalm Praising the Hair of Man's Body', which is basically
what is sounds like, it talks about the hair on a man's chest and...  and
his..." she swallowed hard again before attempting the next word, "his
groin...  and I've always wanted to...  I mean, I've always wondered..."
Ben felt himself laugh, and without thinking about it, said "Sure, please.
Go ahead." Jen reached up and touched his chest, stroked the sprinkling of
hair there, rubbed it between her fingers, brushed her palm over it.  She
reached over him to put her hand in his armpit, and as she felt the matted
growth there, her breasts pressed up against his chest and side.  Now it
was Ben's turn to swallow hard; the feel of her flesh was causing his
manhood to quicken as her hair brushed his neck and chest.

   She pulled back briefly; their faces were very close, only a few inches
apart.  She put her hand on his cheek and gently stroked, savoring the feel
of the unshaven stubble that burned her fingers.  She whispered, "Thank
you," to which Ben could only smile.  With a slightly stricken look, she
quickly reached down to slip her hand beneath the waistband of his trunks
and took his pubic hair between her fingers.  Ben sat bolt upright in the
whirlpool and quickly moved away from her; as he moved, her hand came free
and up out of his trunks, but as it did, inadvertantly caught on the
waistband and pulled the trunks down far enough to expose the base of his
penis.  He quickly struggled to pull them back up and realized as he did so
that her touch had completed the growth of his erection.

   "Jenny, you shouldn't do that!" he scolded.  "It was my fault for saying
yes without thinking about it, but you should know better than to do that
to a stranger!"

   Her look of wonderment and surprise gave way to a sorrowful and pained
expression.  "I'm sorry," she said, "it's just that I've been thinking
about that for so long now...  about touching a man's body hair...  and
after yesterday, I didn't think of you as a stranger anymore...  I really
felt like we were friends..."

   Ben was chagrined.  She was right, they had become friends, and even
though Jenny had crossed a line she shouldn't have, he had been a
thoughtless fool for making their friendship seem like an inconvenience.

   "No, you're right, we are friends.  I'm sorry, Jenny-poo, I didn't mean
to imply otherwise.  I feel like I really know you, like you're someone I
could really be myself with.  I like you.  I mean, I really, REALLY like
you." He put his hand on her shoulder to gently knead the soft flesh there,
rubbing the back of her neck and moving his fingers an inch or two further
down her back.  "I can't tell you just how much I like you, because I'm
still finding out more and more about you, and everything I've found out so
far just makes the feeling stronger."

   Jenny smiled but held her head down, as if she couldn't meet his gaze.
"There's a little more to it," she said very quietly.  "My friend back
home, the one I was telling you about yesterday, Amber...  she does... 
stuff...  with boys.  Like, she lets them kiss her and touch her and
stuff...  and put their hands on her...  her body...  and I get this weird
feeling when she talks about it...  like, I get sorta embarrassed, but also
really really curious, about what it feels like and how to do it and... 
and what a guy's p...  pubic hair...  is like, and how his...  his thing
feels, and just, everything..." she trailed off lamely; it was dawning on
Ben with agonizing slowness which direction she was heading.  Part of him
was bemusedly picturing Jen and Amber having these conversations, part of
him was experiencing a fatherly tenderness that made him wonder if he could
attempt a hug without getting too awkward, and part of him was wondering
how far this would go, and at what point he should do the responsible adult
thing and stop it.  Jen took a shuddering breath and continued, "Amber has
never...  never...  f...  fucked...  a guy before, but she's touched
their...  their cocks...  and...  j-jerked them off...  and she's tried to
describe it to me, what it feels like to hold a guy's...  thing, and stroke
it, but it's just...  it's just not the same, you can't know what it feels
like just from talking about it, you have to really be able to do it, but
I'm just too scared, I can't..." she sighed and took a deep shuddering
breath to collect herself while Ben gazed at her.  "I don't want to give
guys the wrong idea, I don't want them to think they can just jump on me
and do whatever they want, I mean, I really want to touch a guy's c... 
cock...  just to see what it feels like, but I know how excitable guys are,
I'm scared they'll...  they'll, like, try to rape me or make me do stuff
I'm not ready for, when I just want to...  want to see what..." As she
faltered, Ben reached over to take the back of her head in his hand and
pull her over to him, where he kissed the top of her head, stroked her
cheek with his thumb, and put his arm around her shoulders.  She put her
hand on his chest again and leaned her head on his shoulder as she
continued to stroke and play with his chest hair.  He gave her shoulder a
little squeeze, and she drew a deep breath to continue.  "I mean, I want to
have sex, I dream about it sometimes, but in my dreams it's always romantic
pink clouds and stuff, but I know that's just not reality, 'cause of some
of the stuff Amber's told me about guys, like how some of them try to force
her head down to make her su...  suck them, but so far she hasn't had to.
But it's just, you know, if there was just a guy who would be understanding
and let me do what I want, and not expect me to...  to do all this other
stuff...  I mean, I know how good sex feels, 'cause Amber and I have
touched, too...  down there...  sometimes we use stuff, like a carrot, or
the handle of a hairbrush, or...  you know...  stuff...  and we use it on
each other...  and she...  Amber, that is, she...  she was using a carrot
on me one time, and she did it extra hard and pushed it in farther than she
ever had before, and she...  she broke my hymen.  It hurt really bad, I was
laying on the floor crying, and she got really scared 'cause she thought
she damaged me, 'cause I was asking her if I should go to the emergency
room, and she was crying 'cause she thought she would have to ask her mom
to drive me there, but after a minute it stopped hurting and I told her I
thought it was okay.  I was, like, touching myself down there to see if it
still hurt, and it didn't, and that's when Amber told me about the hymen,
and what it was, and she said she knew that once it gets broken, it doesn't
hurt anymore, and she tested a little by putting the carrot back in me and
pushing it almost all the way in, and it didn't hurt.  It didn't feel great
either, it was just a little weird.  So then she was so sorry and she
wanted me to break her hymen too, I didn't want to, but she said I had to,
to make it right, so I used the carrot on her, and I felt really strange
putting it in her, I mean not from just putting it in her, 'cause I'd done
that a bunch before and I knew how good it felt, but it felt strange 'cause
I was pushing so hard, I knew it was hurting her, but she insisted, so I
did and pushed it really far in, and I broke her hymen, and it hurt her
really bad too, but then she was okay, and it was like we were sisters
then, like we had done some secret ritual that we made up, about becoming a
woman.  And then later that night, when I was home in bed, I was touching
my...  myself...  down there, and feeling my...  my pussy hair, and
thinking about that Levertov poem, and how much I wanted to see what a
man's body hair feels like, and...  and if the man would wonder what my...
my body hair down there felt like, and if I would let him touch it, and how
I would feel if he did..." She touched Ben's cheek and sighed, "I can't
believe I'm telling you all this.  I wonder that I'm not to ashamed to say
it." Ben kissed her forehad before pulling her back to look in her eyes. 
"I wonder, too," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I would have
thought I would be embarrassed that you're so candid with me, but somehow
I'm not.  It must be because we have such a special friendship...  I've
never felt this comfortable around anyone else, ever, even talking about
this stuff.  I mean, on one level, I'm just an old man and you're a young
girl and we just met, but on some deeper, more important level, we're close
to being soulmates.  We share some kind of mystery rapport that I never
knew could exist.  I know I should think of us as strangers, and really, we
are, but there's something between us that's pure and perfect...  even if
we spent the rest of our lives getting to know each other, right now, in
this moment right here, we already share something as rare as a unicorn..."

   A sudden spasm crossed her face as a revelation lit up her insides, and
she said "Oh my God.  Oh my God.  I can't believe this...  Oh my God.  Ben,
you're my zipless fuck."

   Ben's shock was nearly total; he was frozen, immobile, blasted into
incoherence by the absurdity of the situation.  "Your...  what?" he goggled
dumbly, "your zipless...  f..."

   "Yeah, it's in this book called 'Fear of Flying' that Amber and I read
to each other," she said in a rush, as if she were anxious to get the words
out before common sense stopped her, "where she talks about having sex with
a man she's never met before, maybe even in a small temporary space like an
elevator..."

   "Yeah, I've read that book too," he said, "I know what a zipless fuck
is, but Jenny...  Jenny-poo...  that's not something...  I mean, your
virginity is...  is not something to just give away like that.  In the
book, she was experienced...  I mean, sexually experienced...  she had
already had sex with guys before she came up with the idea of the zipless
fuck."

   "Look, Ben, all I know is, you like me, you said you REALLY like me, and
you know I like you too, I mean I really REALLY like you, like, not even
LIKE like, but more than that really, you know...  you're smart and you're
funny and you're not some stupid little boy like what Amber plays with,
you're a man, a real man, a real grown-up man who...  who likes me..." as
she said this last, her eyes turned up to his and she was biting her lower
lip as if to show how much she wanted him to agree with her.  Ben could
only toss his head back for a second to reorient himself.  When he looked
back at her, she was still gazing at him with that awed, half-reverent,
half-hopeful look in her eyes.  Jesus.  He wondered briefly what Angie
would think, then scowled and shook his head to clear it; Angie hadn't
kissed or touched him in so many years...  every attempt he made to show
his affection just got thrown back in his face.  The moral compass inside
his head cleared its throat and said, 'OKAY, YES, RIGHT, but that doesn't
make THIS okay, you goddamn idiot, she's TWELVE, she's a CHILD, this would
be RAPE.  Are you a RAPIST, Mr.  Rapey Rapeington?'

   Finally...  "Okay, listen, maybe this can be like two ships that pass in
the night.  After today, we go in opposite directions, and we'll never see
each other again.  We can do some stuff, that will maybe put you on a more
equal footing with Amber, but Jenny-poo, my darling sweet little...  we can
touch and stroke each other, I admit I've already been thinking about
touching you, but we can't fu...  can't fuck each other.  It's wrong,
angel, just...  oohhh, god, you're so beautiful..." he finished lamely as
he touched her face.

   Her hand had been gently stroking his chest hair; now it slid down under
the water, to reach up under the leg of his trunks.  She slid her fingers
along his thigh, reaching, reaching; but she was reaching too low, and when
her fingers encountered his balls, she drew back a little, then tentatively
reached forward again and took them both in her hand.  Ben's groan of
pleasure came from deep in his throat, almost a growl; he looked down at
her to nod his approval, and she started squeezing and rolling his balls to
get the feel of them.  Pleasure and torture at the same time; nobody had
ever touched his balls like this, not even himself.  She continued to tug
on them and caress them with her fingertips, until he shook his head to
indicate he couldn't take anymore.  She reached carefully up the side of
his thigh, past his penis, to grasp his pubic hair and run her fingers
through it.  Ben looked down; the seething, rolling water, white with foam,
completely obscured what was happening beneath the surface.  His unit,
already erect, became completely rigid as it strained against the material
of his trunks.  He reached down to pull it from the confines of the suit.
Jen wrapped her hand around it and began running her fingers up and down
the length of it, not pulling or jerking, not squeezing at all, just
sliding her fingers over the flesh as if seeking to memorize the shape she
was feeling, caressing the head and stroking the underside.

   "OH!  OH!  Oh god, Jenny-poo, you have no idea what you're doing to me,"
he panted, "you're making me feel like...  GOD!  YES!  YES!  that's it,
that spot right there," he panted as she slid her thumb over the frenulum,
"keep stroking that spot right there under the head, PLEASE!  Oh gawwwd..."

   Jen's breath was coming in ragged gasps now as she satisfied the desire
that had been plaguing her for so long.  She released his penis long enough
to grasp the waist of her bikini bottom and pull it down past her knees,
then completely removed it; she took hold of his penis again and,
straddling his lap facing him, guided the head to the opening of her vagina
and began to rub it back and forth in the opening.

   "Jenny, n-n-no, w-we can't do this," Ben wheezed.  He grasped her thighs
and tried to lift her off of him, but his muscles wouldn't obey; it was as
if their genitals were magnets drawn to each other, and no amount of effort
or energy would separate them.

   "Oh g-god, y-yes, yes we can Benny," she panted, "I just f-finished my
period two days ago, I'm not ovulating yet, it's safe, I won't get
p-pregnant, I promise, it's okay." Her nether lips were stroking the head
of his penis as she slid back and forth, the first slow beginnings of
penetration.

   "Th-that's not...  OH GOD...  that's not what I meant...  I mean, yes, I
don't want to get you...  OH oh GOD...  get you pregnant, but also we CAN'T
do this, love, it's WRONG..."

   "N-no it isn't, it isn't wrong," her desperation lending an adult
urgency to her words, "it's LOVE, it's LOVE Benny, this is us loving each
other..." The feel of her arms around his neck was a spiritual weight that
held him in place as she continued to rock her hips, sliding her labia over
the sensitive head.  "I...  I love you, I love you Benny, I want this so
bad...  I love you...  say it, Benny, say it...  say the words that make it
right...  PLEASE..."

   And the words were wrenched from him; he had no control over his voice,
the truth was a force bursting out of him, and he could do nothing to stop
it.  "I love you, Jenny-poo, oh god, I can't help it, I love you, I love
you so fucking much..."

   And with no further ado, she began to lower herself onto his flesh.  Her
vagina stretched obscenely to admit the head of his penis, which had
finally begun its slow trip into her waiting embrace.  She gasped her
pleasure as the the ridge around the bottom of the head slipped completely
within the fold; she began to bounce up and down ever so slightly, with
each bounce working a little more and a little more of his length into her
opening.  The sensation was unbearable; she was so unbelievably tight, it
was as if her tunnel of love had been crafted only and perfectly for him,
for his member alone.  Lights were shimmering behind his vision, and his
crotch, his penis and balls, were pumping wave after wave of ecstasy into
his system.  Ben reached behind her to untie the bikini top and pull it
aside.  Her breasts were absolute perfection, round and soft, but the
nipples hard as diamonds.  As he hugged her to his chest and placed his
lips on hers, and as she wrapped her arms around him and returned his kiss
with a savage hunger, she suddenly hit bottom; Ben's manhood was buried
balls deep in her canyon of joy.  "OH god," she husked, "did you feel that?
I'm so full of you...  I can feel you hitting me halfway up my stomach, oh
god you're so far inside me, we are so joined together, we're one flesh..."
He reached around to place his hands on her buttocks.  Aided by the
buoyancy of the water, he used his grip on her butt cheeks to pull her half
off his penis, then force her back down.  It was like thrusting as he
lifted and lowered her, lifted and lowered.  "Oh god, oh my my my my my
GOD," she panted, "I'm so full, its like you're my entire universe..." Ben
buried his face in her neck and began tonguing her shoulders as his hand
slipped into the space between them.  Her clitoris was a hard little button
that his groping fingers easily found.  Jen was doing all the thrusting
now, raising herself almost all the way off, then impaling herself again on
his turgid flesh.  As he rubbed and squeezed her magic button, she began to
give little gasps; her eyes rolled back and she moved her head from side to
side as the feeling overwhelmed her.  "Oh god, what...  what is this... 
how can this feeling even be real...  how can anybody feel this good... 
this is im...  OH...  impossi...  OH GOD...  impossible...  OH OH...  fu...
fuck...  fucking, fucking, my Benny love is fucking me with his man penis
deep inside me OH OH GOD..." Ben had not stopped rubbing her clitoris; with
all the up and down motion as she rode him, it was difficult to hold a
steady rhythm, but he managed to keep up the stroke, stroke, stroke,
pouring what was left of his willpower into holding onto that precious nub.
"OH GOD BEN I'M LOSING MY DAMN MIND!" she yelped, and as her legs began a
galvanic jerking motion, Ben felt himself slide over the edge as he came
hard, shooting his pleasure up into her, twitching and spasming as the
semen raced down the length of his shaft to explode in her newly christened
womanhood.

   It was as though pleasure had never existed before this second.  A
feeling this intense, this GOOD, was so fresh and new and powerful that it
could only have come straight from the hand of the creator.  Jenny had
collapsed onto him and was shaking and crying, her hand gripping his
shoulder as if she meant to never release him.  She could feel her own
heart pounding in her ribs, and she could feel Ben's heart beating too,
throbbing as if it meant to leave his chest and take up residence in hers.
For long moments they sat immobile, just holding each other in the roiling
water.

   Jenny took his face in her hand and turned it so she could look in his
eyes.  "That must be what angels in heaven feel.  Oh Ben, we just HAVE to
be spiritual beings, there's no way flesh could contain all that pleasure
and energy by itself."

   Ben squeezed her tightly, savoring the feel of her breasts melting into
him.  "Jenny-poo, I've never felt anything like that before.  You are the
most amazing, cathartic, necessary woman that I've ever known.  How did I
survive, how did I even exist, before I met you?" He wiped away a tear of
his own and kissed her deeply, then put one arm around her waist and with
the other one, caressed and stroked her perfect butt.  He was still buried
in her to the hilt; as she wiggled a little on his chest, she murmured, "I
wish we could just go to sleep like this, with you inside me, hugging me
close all night long."

   "Me too, angel." Ben glanced over at the clock on the pool wall and
frowned briefly; it said the time was 6:25.  Surely they had been in here
much longer than that.  Was time standing still for them?

   At length, Ben stirred and put his arms on the side of the whirlpool's
edge.  "It's still so early, love, do you want to go back to my room and
snuggle for a while?" Her eager nod was immediate.  They gently disengaged
from each other; as she found and donned her swimsuit, Ben pulled his
trunks back up and climbed from the pool to do the same with his shirt.

   As they exited the elevator on his floor, Ben saw they had left a little
puddle on the tile floor of the car.  No one was in view as they stepped
into the hall.  Ben touched Jen's elbow to lead her in the right direction.
Fumbling only briefly with his card key, they slipped in still unseen. 
Feeling suddenly shy, Jen turned away.  Even given what they had just done,
there was something so new and raw here that she was suddenly unsure of how
to proceed.  Ben picked up on her mood.  He stood behind her and gently put
his arms around her waist, smelling her hair and gently cupping her covered
breast in his hand.  "Hey love, feeling strange?" he whispered.  She nodded
briefly and kept her head down.  Ben gently turned her to face him.  His
smile was all the tonic she needed, his warm, wonderful mature smile melted
her insides and told her that this perfect beautiful moment was right and
would always be right, no matter what else happened.

   Ben took her hand and led her to the king bed.  After removing her
bikini and laying her down, he slid his own clothes off and lay next to
her. She looked wonderingly to him for guidance.  He just smiled, took her
hand, and laid it on his chest.  "There's no agenda, angel, no plan. 
There's just you and me." His finger began tracing lazy spirals on her hips
and pelvis, teasing and trailing down to her thighs and back up.  Ben's
penis was closer to being soft than erect.  As Jen slid her fingers over
his balls and up from the bottom of his shaft to the tip, the blood came
surging back and he stood once again at full mast.

   "Can I...  can I look at it?  Up close, I mean?" she teased, and he
caressed her nipple before answering, "This is all about us, beautiful one,
this is our time.  Do whatever you want." She moved around on the bed until
her face was level with his stiffness.  Now that she could see the
underside of his wand, she had a much better idea of what his magic spot
looked like.  Her curiousity was in full control as she extended her tongue
to taste the underside of the rim.  Ben jumped and groaned at that.  He
pulled her legs around until his face was buried deep between her legs. 
Her clitoris presented itself for more attention, and he had no trouble
stroking it with his tongue.  There was no urgency to any of their
movements; these were the actions of two who knew they were about to lose
each other forever and needed to make their last session one that would
sustain them to the end.  Jen loved his penis with her tongue, with her
face, with her fingers, with every ounce of love she had in her, and when
he came again, it was into her willing, waiting mouth.  She thought briefly
of spitting it out, but the feeling of having more of him inside her was
too much to resist, and she swallowed.  As for Ben, the nectar coming from
her opening was a heady secret, scented with the essence of life, and he
wanted to absorb as much of it as he could; so he continued to make long,
lovely strokes with his tongue, keeping her wetness flowing.

   At length they lay side by side agin, their arms around each other as
she draped her leg over his.  How long they had lain like that, neither
could say; there was a timeless quality to their actions that absorbed all
other concerns.  When Ben looked at the clock on the nightstand, it seemed
only natural that it should say 6:30.  He had already accepted the magical
nature of the timeslip they seemed to be occupying.  Nevertheless, time WAS
progressing...

   "Jenny-poo," Ben began sadly, and she put her fingers over his lips. 
"Don't say it," she whispered, "we both know it, let's just try to get
through it." His wonder only delayed him a few seconds from saying, "You
are the one, Jenny-poo.  You know it, I know it, we know it.  In whatever
dark times may lay ahead, keep this next to your heart, that you are the
one I choose, the one I need by my side.  You are IT, Jennifer, you are my
one and only."

   "I know I don't have to describe my heart to you, because you're already
there," she breathed, "so just know that I love you back so fucking hard...
I love you from now until ever.  That's all there is, there ain't no more."
Ben reached over her to get his phone off the nightstand.  He settled Jen
on his lap with her back against his chest; reaching up, he positioned the
phone to take a selfie of the two of them sitting there pressed together,
as naked as they day they had been born.  They kissed, and he took a selfie
of that, too.  Then he got up from the bed and walked to the chair where he
had draped his pants.  Removing the wallet, he counted out all the cash he
had there; the $500 that was left of his bonus, that he had cashed just
before coming to Chicago, cashed without Angie's ever having been aware of
its existence.  He came back to the bed to sit before Jen as she pulled her
wet bikini back into place.

   "Listen Jen, there's one last thing you need to know," he began.  She
finished tucking herself into her suit and turned her full attention to
him. "There's guys out there who value the sexuality of a woman so much
that they feel like they have to pay for it with money and presents.  You
may come across guys who want to pay you or buy you things as an exchange
for sex.  This is a power that you have as a woman.  Some people think it
debases a woman, but if the guy doesn't hit you, doesn't talk mean to you,
and wants to buy things for you, then there's nothing wrong with using what
God gave you to get along in this world.  I can say that because I know you
would never just do that, just use a man like that to get things; I know
you would have enough respect for yourself and the man to only let it
happen if you really liked him and weren't just using him." He paused to
take stock of his narrative, and realized his hands were starting to shake.
"Oh god, Jenny-poo, I'm trying to lecture you on how to select mates and my
insides just started dying.  I want you so bad, love, I..." Jen climbed on
his lap and wrapped her arms around him.  They held each other through an
eternity, their flesh doing its best to unite in response to the
unification already achieved on higher planes.

   As they pulled back from each other, Ben picked up the $500 he had
dropped on the bed and put it in her hand.  "This is yours," he said
hopefully, "this is all I can do at the moment to support you.  I don't
just WANT you to have this, love, I NEED you to have this.  I NEED you to
know how badly I need to take care of you." Jenny's left hand clutched the
wad of bills to her chest while her right hand pulled his face to hers for
another kiss.  Ben stood to pull on his sweats, then reached for the paper
and pen sitting by the phone.  He printed his private email address, the
one he had never told anyone he had, tore off the sheet, folded it twice
and slipped it into Jenny's hand along with the cash.  Hand in hand, they
stepped into the hall and made their way slowly to the elevator.  While
waiting for the car to arrive, they shared one final embrace and kiss; then
the doors opened, she stepped inside, and the doors slid shut, vanishing
her beatific smile and the tear that was sliding down her cheek.  The
second the elevator door closed, the door to the room next to Ben's opened,
and that idiot Ericson stuck his head out and looked down the hall at him.
"Hey, buddy, what's shakin'?" he smarmed.

   As he and Ericson walked out to the lobby on their way to the last day
of the conference, Ben couldn't resist looking around for Jen.  He knew the
odds of their crossing paths again were not good, but the heart wants what
the heart wants.  The conference was a drudgery, a drone, a fluorescent-lit
dungeon.  Somehow, it eventually ended.  Somehow, he managed to respond to
all of Ericson's inanities.  Somehow, he managed to drag his suitcase
through crowds of strangers on the train.  Somehow, he managed to get on
and off the flight.  Somehow, he managed to get through Angie's
half-hearted expressions of interest in his trip.  Somehow, he managed to
pull on his sweats and lay there in bed next to Angie without tossing or
turning.  And there he lay, arms behind his head as he gazed up at the
ceiling, gazed up into the darkness that was going to shadow him for the
rest of his life, the darkness that would only grow in suffocating
intensity as he watched the bright flame of her presence receding,
receding, receding...

   Two weeks later.  Ben was home at the end of another interminable day,
sitting in front of the computer while his Molson slowly grew warmer on the
desk beside him.  He hadn't checked email since he'd been home, been afraid
of the possiblities, or lack thereof.  Something twitched in his wrist; he
looked at it and saw with mild amusement a vein pulsing there, rising up
against the skin and falling back into place, rising and falling, calling
attention to the continued beating of his heart.  With a heavy sigh, he
signed into his secret account.  There was one new email, and one only, and
it had just been sent 2 minutes previously.

   "Hi Benny-poo," it read, "sometimes it's really hard without you here,
but sometimes, when you get in my thoughts a certain way, it's so easy, I
just coast through the day dreaming about your sweet sweet self.  I know we
didn't discuss whether it was okay for me to talk to Amber about what we
did, but somehow I know you won't mind.  You know I'll never get you in
trouble.  It's just that sometimes, like especially late at night when I'm
laying in bed and I can't get to sleep, which happens a lot now, I feel
like if I can't tell somebody about you, I'll go insane.  You are the most
important thing that's ever going to happen to me, and anybody I ever talk
to from now on, won't know who I am when they're talking to me, they'll
never know me because there's just this huge iceberg-sized piece of me that
has to remain hidden.  There's only one person I'll ever completely be
myself around, and I don't know if I'll ever see him again.  (That's you,
if you couldn't guess.) That's why it helps so much to talk to Amber.  At
first it was awkward, because she didn't completely understand.  When I
first told her, she thought I got raped, but when I made her understand
that's not what happened, then she got upset, I think she was so jealous of
me because she thought I had done it to one-up her.  Eventually, I got her
to understand, but she's still jealous, only now it's not angry jealous,
it's sad jealous.  She knows I'm still the kind of person who won't grab
boys' willies just because they ask, and I think she wants what you and I
have.  She even said she's going to stop jerking guys off and letting them
touch her.  I told her not to do that on my account, because I didn't have
any advice on how she could meet an amazing beautiful wonderful man to love
for the rest of her life.  When I talk like that, sometimes she gets a
little ugly and says things like she's not entirely sure she belives me,
she says it sounds like the "I fucked a girl in Canada once" story that
guys tell each other when they're pretending they're not still virgins.  I
wish I had a picture of you to show her, but I know I can't get you in
trouble, it's just so hard sometimes.  Sorry, I guess I'm wandering. 
Anyway, here's what else is happening.  That $500 you gave me?  I slipped
$400 of it in dad's wallet when he wasn't looking.  When he found it and
asked us about it, ho ho Benny-poo, you should have seen me act the
innocent.  He puzzled over it for the rest of the trip and he's still
wondering.  But you know what?  After the second day of worrying about it,
he got so much lighter and happier, joking and singing songs with us, it
was like a weight had been taken off his shoulders.  Every time I look at
our Washington pictures and see dad there grinning like an idiot with his
arms around us, I get all teary-eyed at the thought of the amazing man who
made it possible.  Well, I don't know what else to tell you at the moment.
It's just life, I guess.  Who knows?  Fate threw us together, I guess it's
up to us now to decide how and where to take it.  All I can tell you for
sure is, there's a Benny-sized hole in my heart now, and I guess we'll see
what happens." Ben opened the attached pictures and studied them long and
well.  One was a close-up selfie of Jen sitting in a park somewhere, her
smile tinged with sadness; one was a candid shot of her at a swimming pool,
wearing her rainbow bikini; and the final picture was of her standing naked
in front of a full-length mirror, one hand on her hip and a saucy smile
from ear to ear.  After saving the pictures to a hidden folder, Ben tried
to compose a response, but there was so much he wanted to say, and so much
more he wanted to hear from her, that in the end all he could say was,
"Jenny-poo, of course, tell Amber anything and everything you want to.  I
wish I could shout our love from a mountain top.  Don't ever think, for
even the smallest second, that I don't love you.  As long as we have this
back-door thread connecting us, we have hope.  Hope, my angel.  I love you
forever.  P.S.  Show these to Amber." He pulled up the selfies he had taken
in the hotel room.  They were explicitly incriminating; it was obvious who
the people in the picture were, and Jennifer's bare breasts were as visible
as Ben's penis wasn't, being obviously pressed up against her butt as she
sat with her back to him.  He attached the selfies and added a head shot of
himself that he'd had laying around on his computer for a long time, then
clicked the Send button before he had a chance to think about it.