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Title: Taste the Rainbow
Author: Sleepy Insomniac
Summary: A story about a man and a young girl who
develop a forbidden relationship after the man
offers to take her home from school.
Keywords: COMPLETED, M/f, consensual, short story,
hopeless romance

Story is also available online:
/~Sleepy_Insomniac/

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Comments may be submitted through the comments
form in this story's webpage. Visit the website
mentioned above and head to 'Stories' and 'Taste
the Rainbow'.

I hope you enjoy my story and happy reading :)

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

Taste the Rainbow
By Sleepy Insomniac
(C) September, 2009

Chapter 1

"Mother fucker," Ashley uttered under her breath.
She felt stupid, like a stupid Indian sitting
cross-legged with elbows propped against her
knees. She curled her palms up under her chin
while she watched the trees sway and the
occasional squirrel spastically forage for nuts.
This was summer school, all right.

Or at least it was. The day's classes ended hours
ago, when Ashley took up her stupid seat under
that stupid tree and remained while the other
stupid students, parents and teachers all vanished
without a trace. There was the occasional look or
faux-concerned question thrown her way, usually
regarding her seeming lack of transportation
(buses didn't run during the summer), but she
would quickly dismiss them with a sweet reply
followed by a smile coated with so much sugar even
a hardened war veteran would grin after the
butterflies she just beamed into their stomachs
started to flutter about.

"My father's coming, he's late sometimes, but
he'll be here," was her usual reply, but she knew
damn well that was a lie. These days her father
often got distracted almost exclusively by things
with tits, though sometimes the occasional
gambling binge was the culprit. With several prior
distractions he never showed up, at least not at
the school. Often he would stumble into their home
late that night or even the next day, fighting bad
hangovers and regretting even worse decisions.
Sometimes he would remember to pick up his
daughter, much too late usually, but every time he
didn't she would show up at the house, making him
feel better about himself, often saying *That's
great, girl...you can't depend on nobody, not even
your Pops. I taught you good.* Every time she
showed up at the house he assumed his little girl
had friends, good friends. They'll take care of
her.

However, the students/parents/teachers didn't
really know Ashley that much. She didn't have any
friends, at least any *real* friends. She talked
with kids at school, but not much; she was often
quiet in class and no one else did much to break
the ice with her. Ashley comprised several
theories as to why this was. It wasn't that she
was annoying, ugly, or stupid. Ironically, Ashley
believed, it was the total opposite.

Ashley was smart. Fucking smart. Brilliant when
described by more eloquent people assessing her
intelligence. On top of her giftedness, she's a
looker, or at least a looker for someone her age,
when deemed appropriate like at special events
when dressing up was OK for young girls like her.
She only had one chance to do this; at her aunt's
wedding, Ashley's bareback dress, eye shadow and
expertly applied makeup turned more than a few
heads. Even at 11 years of age, boys were nervous
around her, girls were dismissive of her and
parents (specifically the girls' parents) were
jealous of her, knowing that Ashley will be a
knockout in a few years, if not already, and soon
she will find a way to use that to her advantage.
In the meantime, their little girls will have to
earn their own way, all the while wanting to look
like Ashley, garner Ashley's success, and have sex
with Ashley's husband.

That was the problem; her small community simply
couldn't relate to a girl like her. She needed
open, loving encouragement to help her grow in
mind and spirit, not judgmental hypocrites. Not
everyone in her town was like this, of course, but
without them willing to open their arms and accept
her the way she was, her way of life would
continue the way it always had; wasting her
potential. Ashley needed a friend. And she knew
it.

Another gust of wind rushed through the trees.
Ashley sighed. A long walk was ahead of her, and
this time it looked like she may have to fight a
storm along the way. She would hitchhike if she
could, but she lived at a place far beyond the
regular hum of traffic. That wasn't a good idea
anyway; her outfit would invite trouble from
opportunistic men. All well, if she'd successfully
made the trek before, she can do it again. It was
time to go.

*Crack*. Something shifted to Ashley's left and
her eyes immediately darted over. Lost in her
thoughts, she forgot to keep watch for her dad,
but at this point she was certain it wasn't him.
Someone else was coming.


Chapter 2

John wasn't in any hurry; he knew he fucked up his
life long ago. Moving any faster would only speed
up the process.

Standing outside his old, beat-up Subaru parked
near the streets curb, he just stood there
staring, thinking. *Did Linda have Megan this
weekend?* He couldn't remember. He was late,
anyway. *Late as fucking usual.*

The school rested far in front of him, behind one
of those circle drive things with a small
courtyard built inside of the area the streets
encapsulated. All the cars were gone by now, long
gone, leaving the area vacant with nothing but the
groupings of  pine trees that outlined the campus
and the rolling green graze fields in the various
distances. John just stood there with his hands in
his pockets, caught up in that daze he often found
himself in as of late. He still had his business
suit on, or at least something passable;
uninspired, the simple white collar shirt, khaki
pants and plain loafers screamed workplace
monotony. His tie was OK, even though it looked a
little funny there, flapping in the breeze.

John turned to get into his car when he caught
site of a young girl sitting under one of the
campus trees. She didn't seem to notice him; she
just sat there, like she was watching morning
cartoons or something. John glanced around, but he
didn't need to; he knew no one was there. The way
it looked, no one would be there for a long time.

He remembered stories he heard throughout his
life, men that would snatch children after school
and do God knows what with them. Demons, monsters.
John felt a little unsure about checking on her,
but he knew if the morning news headlined a
missing child report, he'd feel something a hell
of a lot worse. He did feel sure about one thing,
though: he wasn't a monster. Taking his hands out
of his pockets, he casually trekked towards the
large pine tree the girl was under.

Nearly reaching her, a stick snapped under his
shoe. Her head darted over; eyes caught in-between
shock and a tired haze. John reflexively held his
hand up, as if to stay her like a wild animal
frightened to the point of running off.

"Hey, it's alright, I'm just seeing if your ride's
coming," John said in the friendliest voice he
could muster. The girl sat there for a second with
that startled, confused look still showing
through, allowing John the time to get a good look
at her. The pace of his breathing increased a
little; he didn't expect her to be so...gorgeous,
really. Her dark brunette hair, loosely held
together by a wood-streaked plastic clip, was the
immediate starting point. Everything she wore
matched it, with a neckline on her black cotton
blouse matching her eye color, more of a dark
brown and intoxicating to gaze into.

After overcoming her initial panic, she smiled a
little and gave a genuine laugh that sounded
musical, all the while covering her mouth with her
hands out of embarrassment. Her smile still seeped
through her fingers. John felt a flush run through
his chest, but he ignored the feeling and carried
on with his expected adult responsibilities.

"What's your name?" John asked, politely. The girl
let down her hands from her mouth, half-smiling
still. She stood up, wrangling her way up off the
ground as she did, and immediately turned her
attention to her backside where she softly brushed
away dead pine needles from her butt. She was
wearing a simple, black skirt. It wasn't super
short, but John was no less affected by its
allure. As much as he tried not to, his eyes
drifted down her small, streamlined body. Her
hand, elegant and tender, lightly brushed against
the fabric, giving brief glimpses of the smooth
curvature her bottom possessed. Just above, her
blouse hugged her waist, showcasing her thin, sexy
frame. A little skin from her stomach peeked
through.

Seeing this, John forgot where he was...and the
hand stopped. His eyes shifted back to her face
and she was staring at him. She had clearly caught
him looking. He quickly brushed off her shoulder,
trying to play it off like he was helping her.

"You had a little...it's OK, it's gone now," John
stammered out. Ashley knowingly smiled, giving
John another flush in his chest. She reached out
with her right hand, the same hand she was
brushing her bottom with.

"Hi, I'm Ashley," she said. Her voice was lovely
and surprisingly mature for her age. John reached
out with an awkward rhythm and took her hand. She
held his hand tighter than he held hers, even
though her hand couldn't fully grip his own. Her
fingers felt small, but smooth while lightly
rubbing against his skin as they shook hands. He
had a strong desire to kiss it, like gentlemen
used to do during romantic courtships. He knew
that wouldn't be wise; Linda would have a field
day if somebody saw them and it got out. John
regained some of his composure, reminding himself
why he was speaking to her in the first place. He
pulled his hand back and tried to not let his
interest in her carry over to his voice.

"I didn't want to leave without making sure you
had a ride...and it looks like it might rain. Are
your parents running late or something?" Ashley
rolled her eyes. John thought this made her look
silly, but also amazingly cute at the same time.
Her face was angelic, soft lips with a delicate
chin and faint dimples in her cheeks when she
grinned. Her skin was full of youth, the skin that
women work diligently every day to maintain, but
girls like her simply have. Dark, wispy bangs
cradled her face on one side.

"Yeah...my dad...he's not the most dependable
chauffer," Ashley replied, again with that womanly
cadence mixed with a young girl's timbre. John was
hypnotized by it.

"Are you *offering*?" Ashley asked with a sly tone
blatantly injected into the question. John felt
enough sparks come from this he could've ignited
and a million little images popped into his head,
images of him on top of her right there, on the
grass in broad daylight, thrusting deep and hard
inside of her with her dark skirt lifted up, her
blouse riding up her stomach and her face rubbing
in rhythm against his chest, moaning approvingly.

John quickly tried to shake this off, both
mentally and physically; a bulge started to show
through his khakis. This couldn't be good; people
go to jail for just being accused of molestation.
Fantasizing about her was the first step to losing
everything he had. But then John remembered; he
didn't have much. Linda took most of it and his
daughter forgot he existed. And here he was,
getting an erection from a girl probably the same
age as his daughter. *What a fucking loser*, John
thought.

Still, John mulled over the insinuation. *Are you
_offering_?* It was simple, they had only spoken a
few words, but John knew what an invitation
sounded like. She was young and it could've been
an innocent comment, but it was her tone that gave
him the idea. Not the 'I Want To Have Sex' tone,
but the 'I Want To Get Fucked' tone. It was a
difficult idea for John to take seriously.

"How old are you?" John asked, frankly.

"Oh, 18," Ashley stated, lie firmly embedded in
the sarcasm. John couldn't believe it: she was
coming on to him. But what he really couldn't
believe was the rush he was getting from it all.
Every awkward glance at her fragile neck, ears and
lips only dug the knife further into his chest and
groin. However, he didn't allow himself to commit
what his body so desperately wanted. He wasn't
going to egg her on. John remembered: unlike those
other men, he wasn't a monster.

"Right...I'm going to go make a phone call...if
you need to use my phone to call your parents,
just ask. I need to be somewhere, so it's probably
a good idea you do." John turned to leave and
Ashley suddenly gripped his arm. John turned back
in surprise.

"No...just...ok, listen," Ashley's tone shifted as
she said this; less bullshit to more matter-of-
fact.

"I'm 11," Ashley said looking past him, "and my
mom died when I was 2, so I only have one parent."
Her voice hinted more, nearly pleading, almost to
say *Remember...I'm still a little girl.* A little
shame fell over John.

"I'm sorry," he said. Ashley merely nodded. She
looked up at him. That playful look was gone from
her eyes now replaced by something else. She
looked vulnerable.

"Can you please take me home? My dad's...he's not
coming." Her tone was serious, traces of hidden
pain seeping through. At once, John figured some
of it out; she's had a rough life, despite the
impressions she gives off. She's probably just
like that and he might've assumed some things.
Now, he felt like an idiot.

"Sure, I'll take you home," John said softly.
Ashley smiled, more of a thankful smile than
before, but no less beautiful. John's heart still
lurched.

Ashley gently let go of his arm and started to
make way to his car. John glanced around and
noticed she didn't have a backpack.

"Where's your stuff?" John asked.

"What stuff?" She replied, facing him.

"You know, like a book bag? Or books, even?" John
felt a little odd having to ask this. You never
see a kid her age without something to lug around
after school, at least in this town.

"I don't really need them," Ashley hinted.

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"I just don't need them," Ashley hinted again.
John was a little confused by this.

"Don't you need, like, pencils and paper?" John's
voice drifted slightly as he said this. Ashley
smiled at him.

"Teachers don't have me do homework or
anything...they say I make the other students look
bad. I usually just sit out in the hall during
exams." Then, John got more of it, where she was
coming from. Ashley was gifted, that much was
obvious now; it explained why she acted so mature.
He didn't feel as bad now, which was a relief. He
may have gotten an erection from an 11-year-old,
but it was because she reminded him of a mature,
intelligent, unbelievably gorgeous woman
unfortunately trapped in an 11-year-old's body.
That much was certain. Now he just needed to get
her home.

Ashley grinned a little and started walking to his
car again. John gazed at her while she took
unhurried steps, as if she was waiting for him to
catch up to her. Her dark hair swayed with the
trees as her skirt hugged the side of her left
thigh, revealing the light tone her already
perfect legs possessed. John noticed her dark slip-
on shoes over her little feet and could tell were
lightly embroidered, even from that distance. She
held her arms behind her back, grasping the wrist
of one hand with the other as she walked, looking
down and kicking a pine cone like lazy soccer
practice. With the line of trees surrounding her
and the rolling hills falling far into the
distance, everything about her, who she was and
how she made John feel, was serene.

*I don't care what others say, she's fucking
gorgeous. Not just for an 11-year-old, she's just
that, a gorgeous human being. I'd give up
everything I have in life right now to run up
there, rip her clothes off, and _fuck her_ right
where she stands.*

John shook his head, amazed at the thoughts his
mind just produced. *Fuck her?* He wasn't going to
do that. Monsters do that. He wasn't a monster.

*But I want to be.*


Chapter 3

The engine hummed for a few minutes before Ashley
finally heard the voice in her head speak. *What
am I doing?!*, it said, simultaneously amazed and
detached by the recent turn of events. Here she
was, in the passenger seat of a beat-up Subaru
with a man she didn't even know at the wheel.
While his driving was modest and safe, for all she
knew he could be taking her to the middle of
nowhere to rape her and bury her in a grave where
a future estate would be built that she would then
haunt as a ghost. Or something to that extent, she
thought.

That would be her fault, of course. She *had* been
pushing his buttons pretty hard, and even that,
Ashley knew, was an understatement. For all the
effort she put into piquing his interest in her,
she might as well have raped *him* with a hand-job
and saved some time. Oddly enough, though, that
would not have produced the results she was
looking for. In fact, something that direct would
have ruined it.

It was weird; seeing this stranger, this man, gave
her a sudden longing for company, something more
than small talk. She knew girls her age wouldn't
start to really go through puberty until a couple
years later, but just then, when this man, John,
walked up to her and offered his help, a switch
went off. She *burned*, and not the burn she felt
while pleasantly experimenting with herself at
night; this was a deep burn, unforgiving. It made
her heart take precedence over any thought her
mind produced. She wanted to be with him. No, she
*had* to be with him. And not with any other man
or boy. *_Him*_.

She didn't understand it, either. John wasn't
exactly a hunk of a man. He wasn't bad, but
nothing about him should've made her feel that
way. He was a little nerdy, no glasses, but he
definitely possessed that general lack of
coordination with conversations and movements. His
suit was lame and his attempt to not stare at her
ass was laughable. Though his reaction to her
catching him was cute...and she kind of liked his
tie, blowing in the wind like that. It was his
tiny cape and he was her superhero, here to save
her from another unfortunate consequence of her
father's chronic neglect. John was a tall, lanky
Superman disguised like Clark Kent in that stupid,
depressing suit. She felt better thinking of him
this way; he was, after all, only trying to help.
It was her fault that he felt awkward, causing him
to drive in that stiff, mechanical way older
people find themselves doing once their senses
start slowing to a crawl. After grabbing a look at
John, however, Ashley knew his senses were more
than alert; he was bound to pop like a balloon if
his insides tightened any further. She needed to
get him relaxed.

"John, thank you for giving me a ride home,"
Ashley said, sincerely. "I hope I didn't interrupt
whatever you needed to do-"

"Insurance," John interjected.

"What?" Ashley asked.

"I sell life insurance...well, other kinds too,
but mainly life. I'm an agent, travel a lot, hence
the plain suit," John picks up his tie when he
says this and waves it a few times. *Insurance?*
Ashley thought. *That's kind of like a superhero,
I guess. Kind of...*

"I'll cancel my appointment later...it's no
problem, it's going to storm anyway. I'm just glad
I was there to make sure you got home safe," he
said. Ashley felt her chest heat up a little. *I'm
glad too, John,* Ashley thought.

The sky had darkened a lot once they started
leaving. Ashley had told John the extremely long
way to get to her house. She wasn't sure why.
Something made her feel like talking to him,
without the blatant advances. She saw his pants
bulge pretty quickly during her little act and
knew it wouldn't take much to get his heart racing
again. She needed more time with him...for other
reasons. Just to be sure.

"Why were you there, anyway? At the school?"
Ashley inquired. She really did wonder this. Why
was he at the school that late? Nobody else stuck
around waiting like Ashley so clearly was.

"Yeah...that's...I was there to pick up my
daughter, got caught up in an appointment and..."
John faces his hand at his head and flips it, like
something fell out. "I forgot."

"My dad always forgets, too," Ashley said,
recoiling back on the last word. John didn't say
anything.

"I'm sorry," "No, it's alright," Ashley and John
said at the same moment. They both glanced at each
other and laughed. This is the first time Ashley
heard John laugh; she liked it. It felt real,
unforced. That's how John was, she realized.
Unforced. When he smiled, his face really stood
out, like a college boy who developed
contemplative wrinkles in his eyes and forehead as
he matured, but retained elements of his boyhood.
Ashley liked the ones he kept: not the annoying
territorial elements like her father or boys at
school had, but the good ones, the sweetness boys
can possess but only fully develop after learning
to cherish life, not destroy it. She knew if a
squirrel ran across the road, John would swerve to
miss, not swerve to hit. With this in mind, Ashley
studied his face again, his soft eyes and his
gentle presence.  She flushed a little; he looked
more handsome than he first appeared.

"Are you alright?" John asked her, not looking.
She instantly looked away.

"D...did your daughter get a ride from someone
else?" *Good save*, Ashley thought. She really did
wonder this, too. John did that hand gesture on
his forehead again.

"Yeah, I'm an idiot. I also forgot my ex-wife had
her this weekend...we alternate weekends, and I
thought this weekend was the second in the month,
but I saw her two weekends in a row and..." John
realized how boring he must sound. "Just forget
it."

"No, it's fine, what's your daughter's name?"
Ashley urged the conversation on, her mind once
again losing control over what her mouth said. The
more she listened to him, watched him, she felt
something else building up inside her. Not the
slow burn heating up her chest, though that, too,
had worsened. It was...affection for him. Deep,
passionate affection, like she had it for years.
Why was she feeling this way?

"Megan...do you know her? Fifth grade, I think,"
he said.

"No...I don't think I've seen her before," Ashley
responded and she jolted; John gave an unexpected
laugh at this. Letting one last laugh draw out, he
quickly smeared his face with his right hand and
sniffed, little after-laughs still trickling
through.

"I don't really see her either...most weekends
she's with me she stays at a friend's house," John
mentioned. A hint of sadness poked through his
voice.

"I'm sorry about that," Ashley said, sincerity
still intact. Lightning struck and rain started to
fall. It was thick, but still safe to drive in.

"So, how about you? I got that you're really
smart," John said, pointedly.

"I like to think I am..." Ashley was obviously a
little embarrassed by John's compliment.

"Well, how smart do you think you are? You're
smarter than me, I bet," John said, pointed once
again at her, making her feel good about herself.

"I doubt that," Ashley said, being modest.

"Come on, give me an example...like, how much
history do you know...what grade math level are
you?" John pressed on. Ashley felt small, but her
heart pounded; she never had this much interest in
her from an adult before. Yeah, she had questions
about her knowledge, but more from an assessment
level to try and determine how best to treat her
without spending money on a private tutor. Her dad
sure as hell wasn't going to help, so that left it
up to the school's extra curricular funds and she
knew very well how that turned out: old donated
college textbooks and a special corner in the
classroom, just for her! Still, she was happy to
discuss what she's learned with John; most people
only pretended to care and this interest coming
from him...it was different.

"I just finished Calculus a month ago," she
quietly said. John hesitated with his response.

"That's amazing...that's amazing, Ashley. I didn't
take Calc one until my senior year and you're,
what? Sixth grade?" John glowed while he said
this. Ashley sank a little in her seat.

"I finished all of them last month," she said,
even quieter. John just drove. He had a hard time
compiling thoughts on how to react.

"Why are you living here? You need to be at a
gifted school or something," John looked at her.
"You're incredible."

The rain started pounding harder now. Ashley
looked up at John, analyzing his face. The
windshield wipers and the rain casted alternating
shadows on his face from the headlights as the
wipers moved back and forth. It looked like giant,
streaming tears ran down his cheeks, matching his
somber demeanor and tone when he gave her a look,
a caring, concerned look, longing for a way to
help her, but unsure as to how. She knew, then,
she couldn't return home. Not now. She needed
John, more than she knew. She couldn't let him go.

"Does your dad have a job or something? Is that
why you have to stay here in this Podunk town of
ours?" John asked with concern.

"My mom died from a wreck with a truck driver. It
was the truck driver's fault. There was a big
legal battle and my dad won. He has more money
than he knows what to do with," Ashley let out.
Talking with John about this made her feel good.
He just continued driving, quietly. He spoke after
a few moments.

"And why are you here? Why isn't he taking care of
his daughter?" John asked, tension mounting in his
voice.

"He hates big cities...and around here he can have
sex with any woman he wants," Ashley said, with
difficulty. "He likes women like him, country
women, usually a little bigger like him, too. I
hear them every night in my house," Ashley let
more out. She found John becoming more than an
outlet, though. He was really listening to what
she said. No one, not even those in her family,
listened to her like this. Their only interest was
in her father and his small fortune. It made her
extremely sad about herself and gave her an
extreme longing for John. She realized why she had
to be with him now. He just met her and he cared
for her more than anyone in her entire life,
except maybe her mother, but she didn't remember
her. And John was here, right now.

"It's not all his fault...he went a little crazy
after mom died, and he has no idea how to take
care of me," Ashley said, further explaining her
dilemma. "He never paid anyone to drive me to
school...he did it because it was his way of
taking care of me, at least a way to justify it,
that he was doing alright, but he can't even do
that right..." Ashley's voice started to crack, so
she stopped. She expected John to lose interest in
her after hearing that and become more parenting.
That's not what she wanted and it scared her. She
may have lost him. She may have pushed too far,
too fast. *Good job, Ashley, you scared him away,*
she thought, glancing over. But John just sat
there, quietly driving behind the wheel. After a
few more moments, he spoke.

"So there's nothing keeping you here? Except him?"
John asked. Ashley wasn't sure where he was going
with this, so she just spoke her mind.

"Not until I'm old enough to leave, and even then
I won't have the money to. He will never let me
touch it," Ashley said, feeling depressed while
thinking about her future.

"Ashley...you need to get away from him..." John
mulled out-loud, his voice lowering. Her heart
skipped a beat and a low thunder rumbled in the
distance.

"What do you mean?" Ashley asked, hoping dearly
for John to say what she wanted to hear.

"Well...because you're..." John drifted off. He
drove in silence for moment and then looked over.
Ashley gave him a silly smile as if to say *And?!*
John recoiled back, giving the same cute reaction
he gave before when she caught him staring at her
ass.

"You're brilliant...and gorgeous...God gave you
that, you're special...and that seems like
something that shouldn't go to waste..." John
nervously said. He gripped the wheel a little
tighter. *I shouldn't go to waste?* Ashley
thought, her chest pounding in rhythm with the
high-velocity wiper-blades, *That's your
confession?*

"God gives people retardation and ugliness, too.
Are they less special?" she said, slightly
hostile. Ashley was very touchy with the use of
God in an argument. She knew her problems paled in
comparison to what other people had to go through.

"No, of course not...but because other people have
their problems doesn't make your problems any less
important. You could help people with their
problems if given a chance. And I think you
would...you're..." John didn't know if he should
continue.

Ashley grew quiet again, afraid he could hear her
heart pounding straight through her chest. She had
to steady her voice, so it wouldn't tremble with
anticipation. "What, John?" she quietly asked,
waiting.

"You're everything I could ever want in a woman,"
John whispered, glancing out of the side of his
window. Ashley felt an overwhelming pride and
affection overcome her for John. Her heart
screamed and what slowly started as a slow burn
had become a raging wildfire. No longer was he a
subject of speculation, hope and desire. She knew
him now and both her mind and her heart knew where
they stood with him. Soon, she thought, he would
know, too. That moment couldn't come soon enough.


Chapter 4

Rain hammered the windshield so hard John could
barely see. Lighting bolted down and thunder
roared its way through the dark countryside as he
tried to stay between the lines of the road. Not
looking down, he pressed the AM radio button and
cranked the volume; mixed static filled the
airwaves with a faint, robotic voice cracking
through at random intervals.

"-REPEAT. THERE IS A SEVERE THUNDERSTORM WARNING
FOR THE COUNT-SSSSSSSSSSSS-" John turned it off.

"Don't worry, I'm going to get you there, Ashley,
I've driven in worse," John reassured her, "I may
have to pull over at some point though, between
the downpours." To John, his voice sounded like an
echo at the end of a long tunnel. His mind was too
preoccupied, wheeling thoughts around about what
he had just heard and spoke to this little girl.
He noticed the more he talked, the more he got
attached to her, slowly soaking in the layers of
her story as they came to light, revealing the
tragedy behind the epic beauty riding beside him
in this car.

He had to refrain from looking at her; the light
from the headlights alternated as the wiper blades
and rain glided across the windshield. It made her
look like a sparkling angel, light resonating off
her at various degrees. He knew it would be a bad
idea to provide himself more reasons to
emotionally attach; his relationship with her in
an hour already felt deeper than his current
relationship with his daughter. Linda had kept
Megan away from him, even early on when Megan was
still young, leaving John effectively outside the
loop as to Megan's daily activities. John was
never good at connecting their lives; he knew he
should've found a way, and he tried, but nothing
substantial ever came of it. Hell, Ashley seemed
to connect more with him than he ever did with
Linda, even. Maybe it was his mind justifying the
situation (*Let's be honest, John...it is*, he
thought), but what got him the most about her was
the flame he so clearly saw emerging between them.
The sparks with Ashley were sporadic, but when
they hit, they burned. They burned bad. If it
happened again, John wasn't sure he would be able
to put them out.

Ashley's hand touched John's arm. His entire body
flushed.

"Where do you live?" Ashley asked, softly. John's
heart sank and his penis immediately started to
rise. He wasn't totally sure where this would lead
him, but he really wanted what he shouldn't. As
the responsible adult, he was the one who needed
to cater to her, tend to her emotional
difficulties, and not allow her to believe he was
this savior he desperately wanted to be.

"I can make it, really...there's nothing to worry
about," John tried to say without sounding
disappointed. The rain, however, continued to
spray in waves against the glass, like an
automatic carwash that had gone dangerously
haywire.

"John, look at me," Ashley coolly said. John never
imagined, at 43, he would be in a situation where
an 11-year-old girl would make him feel like he
was talking to the biggest crush of his life. He
felt like a schoolboy again; perhaps her age
reminded him of girls he would hold hands with
during recess and the intimidation he felt then.
But, this girl was smarter than he was today and
she was literally a quarter of his age.

Reluctantly, he looked at her...and immediately
regretted it. Light poured through the rain even
more brilliantly than before, making her appear
beyond radiant, beyond real. What made it every
bit as worse, and what commanded John's every
action at that moment, was the face she wore. It
was a face of complete insistence.

"My father doesn't even know I exist...he'll
assume anything as long as it means he has the
house to himself for a night," Ashley explained.
Her voice returned to that woman cadence again,
but still with her sweet, heavenly voice. John had
to make himself look away. He drove in silence as
the rain danced in step across the window. After a
few moments, he spoke.

"My house isn't far," John said, giving in.

"Let's go there then...we need to get out of this
storm," Ashley calmly suggested. Silently, the
Subaru made a careful U-turn, changing course.

John really didn't have to go far; he wondered why
Ashley gave him the route she did to her house,
but that didn't matter now. John pulled down a
gravel driveway and he could barely see his house
through the downpour and lack of street lights. It
was one of those old two-story houses with white
panels and a small, uncovered porch by the front
door. He kept the house after the divorce,
thankfully, but much of what was inside had to be
bought after Linda cleaned everything else out.
The front door was a decent way from the driveway;
a nice sidewalk looped around from the driveway to
the front porch. The yard was big and the door
looked like a good fifty feet from where they were
parked.

"I don't have an umbrella," John confessed, "we're
going to have to make a run for it-" Ashley
interrupted John by getting out of the car and
bolting down the sidewalk. John hurriedly
unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, rain
slamming down on him as he shut it.

John chased her, trying to catch up. His tie
fluttered like a propeller as he ran and his dress
shoes became heavy, making it difficult for him to
sprint. Both of their feet sloshed across the
sidewalk as they shielded their eyes from the
incoming rain. Then, Ashley slipped. She fell
over, hard, into the grass, rolling a few times
until she stopped, face-down in the lawn. John
panicked and forced his feet to sprint, despite
the chance he would suffer a similar fate. But he
didn't, and arriving at her side within moments,
he quickly kneeled and assessed the situation.

"Are you alright?! Are you OK?!" John said, truly
worried. Ashley pushed herself up off the ground
and leaned up to his ear. She was so close John
could feel her breath venting from her mouth as
she breathed, deeply.

"I'm here with you," she whispered, as much as she
could through the rain. John didn't really think
on her comment too much; when she didn't stand, he
took her up into his arms (quite easily, he
noticed) and carefully carried her up to the
porch. Her head gently rested against his shoulder
as he approached the front of the house.

When he reached the screen door, he opened it up
with one hand and, still with Ashley in his arms,
gave a massive kick to his front door. The door
flung back on its hinges and bounced off the
stopper as John rushed into the landing by the
main stairwell. He kicked his foot back against
the door, shutting it. The main door knob was
broke, but there was still enough of a latch to
shut out much of the roaring sound the rain gave
off. It grew quiet instantly.

John set Ashley onto her feet and took a few steps
back, giving her room while he wiped water out of
his eyes and frizzled drops from his hair. He was
winded and drenched to the core; his torso was
showing through his soaked white dress shirt. He
eventually settled with his hands on his knees,
leaning down, resting while he tried to gain his
breath back. After a moment, he looked up.

Ashley was standing there, quietly staring at him.
Enough light emitted from a nearby room to
showcase her drenched, lightly silhouetted body.
It was a sight men dream about; her hair thick and
wet, giving her wet bangs that cradled her entire
face now. Her slightly pale skin was glistening as
well as her eyes, both contrasted by the dark,
solid colors of her soaked clothes and hair. Her
blouse sealed against her figure, showing how
timid her body really was while at the same time
showing how womanly her figure had become. Her
skirt sank between her legs, showing off a perfect
V made by her waist and thighs. Water dripped on
the floor where she stood, forming a series of
small puddles surrounding her slip-ons. Her body
mildly shook, almost afraid, not because she
feared what he would do to her, but what would
happen if he didn't.

She unclipped the back of her hair, throwing the
clip off to the side and letting her hair fall.
Her hair dropped to a little over shoulder length,
streaming into her back like tiny waves gently
crashing down. She looked up, into his eyes,
trying to lure him with her deep brown gaze like
sirens lure men with their voices. It was obvious
what she was asking; all she needed now was an
answer.

John froze, and not only his body: all thoughts,
all self-control, all conscious ceased to
function. The simple gesture was more than enough
to tease him, provoke him, or do whatever else
Ashley's brilliant mind had laid out and executed
with such precision; it was enough to send John
over the edge. He did not care what this would
make him. He did not care if monsters did this. He
knew what he wanted more than anything in life or
in death and he was going to take it. He was going
to *fuck this girl*.

John immediately took three heavy steps to her,
cradled the back of her head, and kissed her. It
wasn't rough, but it was firm and Ashley's
breathing immediately let loose through her nose.
Warm wind streamed across his cheek as he covered
her entire mouth and then some with his own. She
didn't seem to know what to do, so she slowly
moved her head in a circular motion, hoping this
was the right action. John responded by slowly
prodding his tongue into her lips and gently
urging her to open them. She did and her tongue
came out into his mouth, and his into hers. John's
heart pounded and he held her tighter, reaching
down, squeezing her ass and pushing her as tight
as she could press against him. Her belly pressed
firmly against his fully extended erection through
his pants and his erection rested there between
her belly and his hips. Her body was so wet, warm
and tight John felt the urge to start humping her
like that, but he restrained himself. He enjoyed
her innocent, polite tongue sliding about in his
mouth; like the rest of her, it was small, but all
thoughts of being ashamed by taking what he dare
not, they were long gone.

John knew he needed to hold back as much as
possible; the night was just beginning, but the
urge to take her for everything she had was
pulling at his crotch even harder than the first
night he discovered masturbation. He also knew
only pleasing himself would significantly lessen
the experience compared to what it *could* be. He
wanted this to be the best night either of them
would ever have, but even thinking that felt like
a big, fat lie. John felt, in many ways, it
already was. Now it was about how far it would
go...tonight, tomorrow, and days after. *As far as
we can take it,* John thought, smoothly kissing
her with her small head between his hands. *As far
as we can take it.*


Chapter 5

All of Ashley's anxiety melted away once John
kissed her. She was not afraid; she was terrified.
Not of John, not of what they were going to do.
She wanted that, she wanted that badly. She was
terrified of *how much* she wanted it. And now,
against all possibilities that, out of all people,
it was this man she came across, someone unafraid
to cross the line and make her dreams come true.
Luck had never been her strong suite, but tonight,
she would daresay God answered her prayers.
Ironic, she knew, being how most people would
consider John damned to hell for doing this. But
Ashley knew, because she wanted it, God would be
OK with it.

She was very well aware of her actions and their
consequences. She knew about sex, what it was for,
how it worked, the biological changes she was
experiencing, the rage in her vagina and even how
to best make love, though she doubted she had the
sexual discipline to slowly build to a prolonged
climax. That didn't matter though; she didn't need
to, neither of them did. They would have plenty of
time to practice. Both of them were violently
attracted to each other for very different reasons
and Ashley was fine with that. They both were
experiencing what was considered a sin, an unholy
act; she felt it as a release from her guilt and
her pain. She didn't care for other people or what
they thought; they never cared for her. This was
her choice, her decision. And she was loving it.

Ashley was also keenly aware of the informal
attitude towards sex, something she had learned to
adopt during her late nights alone in bed. She
often imagined it, dreamed it even, but shut it
off with her alarm, ready to commence her day's
duties. But now, well beyond ear's reach of
students, parents, teachers, family...it was back,
full force. That irresistible and the immediate
urge that needed to be fulfilled took hold. At
this point, she could care less what it was
called, whether it was physically expressing their
affections for one another or making love. *That's
silly,* she thought while feeling John's stiff
bulge sliding across her stomach as they breathed
in unison. She knew exactly what it was and she
knew exactly what to call it.

They were going to fuck. Hard. Like animals, but
worse than animals. Animals don't care about what
age they are when they fuck; people are pressured
by other people about the morals with fucking in
the first place, especially underage fucking. The
very thing she was doing was something even her
father may look down upon, may even find some
sense of nobility and try to kill John, but
probably more because he *fucked what was his*
rather than he *fucked his little girl*. This made
Ashley sweat. This made Ashley want John even
more. This turned Ashley on. She kissed him more
passionately, trying different things, letting her
tongue slide in and out of his mouth. John was
going to _*fuck the shit out of her*_, but she was
also going to _*fuck the shit out of him*_.

Her tongue action must've put him into a trance
because he stopped kissing her and grabbed her by
the waist. He easily lifted her up in the air,
carried her to the wall and semi-violently pounded
her against it. The vibration the wall emitted
nearly made an old grandfather clock tip over onto
the floor. John raised her legs over his shoulders
so his face was at the bottom of her skirt. He
folded the skirt up and gave her pussy a long and
careful look. He looked into her eyes and smiled,
then disappeared underneath.

Ashley felt him kissing her on the insides of her
thighs. Slowly at first, then with a steady
licking motion. Sharp stabs of wonderful pain
flashed between her thighs. Her body felt every
touch, every caress, making her pussy, clit and
tiny breasts tingle with such wonder that her head
started to spin. Everything was so hard she was
about to burst. She couldn't take it; she wanted
John to fuck her right then.

John moved his way up to her pussy and licked the
small, delicate lips she had. His tongue explored
the edges, adding little moisture to what was
already soaked in rain and her own doing. John
stuck two fingers in his mouth, soaking them in
saliva. Removing them from his mouth, he pointed
them at her vagina, reached forward and slowly
applied pressure to her mostly intact hymen.

"No," Ashley moaned. John looked up, distracted.

"What is it?" John asked.

"It's OK...I just...I know what you're trying to
do..." She gasped between breaths. "I just...I
want you...right now. I want it...first...please."


Chapter 6

John was stunned. This *had* to feel phenomenal
for a girl her age. John remembered when he was
twelve and jacking off every couple of hours in
the bathroom, every-single-day. He'd get an
erection even at the slightest glance of side-boob
from his literature teacher, Mrs. Hefny. Now, he
was about to give oral to the most beautiful girl
he ever knew and she just told him she'd rather
have sex first. What was crazier, this was the
first time John ever wanted to *give* oral. He was
actually disappointed he couldn't give her the
first orgasm this way.

But not really disappointed. John just kissed what
was possibly the purest piece of human anatomy he
had ever seen. Her pussy was perfect, complete
with a tiny protruding clit that was so hard it
probably gave her chills every time her heart
thumped. If she really wanted the first time to be
during sex, John knew neither of them had long.

John lowered her to the ground and took her into
his arms again. He jogged her upstairs to the
master bedroom while quick, tiny squeaks from the
wooden staircase following them as they rose.

In the bedroom, John turned on the dimmer high
enough so they could still see, but low enough it
didn't feel like a hotel lobby (though, on second
thought, John felt that would be pretty hot, too).
The room was basic, not much more than his king-
sized bed, side table and dresser. Only a few
generic house and garden paintings crookedly hung
on the wall; family, it seemed, wasn't a happy
reminder for him. Bland thematic decor adorned the
bed quilt and wall color; mostly tan and old
flowery designs John never really cared for nor
hated. A glass sliding door on the far wall led
out to a deck, but the deck was shrouded in
darkness. Not surprisingly, neither of them had
noticed the storm had continued just as violently
during their little escapade, if not worsened.
Lightning flashed once, quickly illuminating the
bedroom briefly. A loud, crackly thunder sounded
shortly after.

John laid Ashley down on top of the bed covers.
Her body gently melted into the padding as the
blankets started to grow darker, soaking up the
remaining water on her backside. Ashley calmly
waited, her fingers loosely touching as she held
her hands slightly in the air above her chest. She
looked comfortable, but nervous with anticipation.
John started to say something, but retracted
before any sound came out. He wanted to say *I'm
afraid, too,* but decided that may have not been
the best choice of words given the circumstances.
Still, he needed to reassure her, so he smiled and
ran his hand lightly down the side of her face.
She turned her face toward it, closing her eyes
and breathing in his skin. His fear subsided a
little; he knew she wanted it, possibly more than
he did. Without a second thought or hesitation, he
chose to give it to her.

He first lifted her blouse. It slid up her body,
along her rib-cage and eventually to her
shoulders. Getting her head through the top, he
whisked it off her arms, revealing her half-naked
body. As expected her chest was flat, but not
totally. Her nipples were small, firm and
protruding slightly. Her stomach and waist were
skinny and slender. Grabbing her sides, her body
warmed up his hands. John inhaled and leaned in,
sucking on her breasts immediately. Approving
moans instantly emerged from her mouth.

Ashley's skin was still glistening from the water
and John licked her chest, finding anything he
could do for any reason to lead him to the next
area. Eventually he jumped down to her feet. He
pulled off her embroidered slip-ons and tossed
them to the floor. Her feet were small and seeing
them made John's erection harden to the point he
started to feel pain. He quickly kissed and licked
the top of her feet.

"Hey! That tickles..." she giggled, though even
through the laughter, a sultry tone seeped
through. John's dick rose up on end, almost
touching his stomach.  He wished he had more time
to give her proper attention, but this was going
to have to be quick. He wasn't the jackrabbit he
once was, but a little cum had already escaped him
and stood at the end of his shaft.

*She can't get pregnant, can she?* John thought,
but he knew it was silly to question it and silly
to assume. He didn't have any protection in the
house, but he knew they'd never be able to find
any in town, with the storm and all. For a moment
he pressed his face against her ankle, blocking
out the consequences from his mind, but still
remaining fully aware of his dilemma. His dick
throbbed and throbbed as he awkwardly waited,
hoping some memory, some long lost condom that
just happened to be under the drawer, scattered
there during a wonderful, drunken, forgotten
night. But John knew, no such night existed, not
for a very long time.

Ashley's left foot rose up and stroked the side of
his face. He turned his head and answered her
gesture, lightly rubbing his nose along the inner
edge of her foot, up to her big toe which he gave
a small peck to. He looked up at her; her eyes
gazed down, above her wonderful body and in the
same line of view of her perfect, hairless mid-
section. "Fuck it," John whispered to himself, not
picking up on the pun. He had the prize; she was
all his. So what if he opened it a little early?

He ignored the counter-arguments that called back,
forcing them to die away into the distant echo
making up his current consciousness. He journeyed
up her left leg dropping kisses like bread crumbs,
and then repeated with her right. He caressed
every perfect inch of her perfect legs and her
perfect skin. Going upward, her knees were small
and cute; her thighs incredibly toned and elegant,
like those small mannequin legs impossible for
grown women to have, but here a pair rested
directly in front of him...and they were real.
Thunder rumbled through the bedroom, giving Ashley
a stir. She ran her fingers through John's hair,
almost pulling him toward her sweet spot.
Continuing his journey, up John went.

Her skirt. John rolled Ashley onto her side and
unzipped the back. It easily came off, drifting
down along her legs and over each heel, foot and
toe. John looked up and saw her ass from the side.
It was rounded, small and tight, similar to her
thighs. John desperately wanted to give it some
attention, but his heart pumped like a time bomb.

He leaned her on her back, reached down with his
left hand and traced his fingers up the inside of
her left thigh. Ashley started to shudder, holding
her arms up the air with fists mounted, unsure of
what to do with them. She was waiting for it, as
was he. John massaged between her thigh and her
pussy. He eventually rubbed his fingers up and
down the pussy itself. She *moaned* approvingly,
gently opening and closing her eyes in rhythm to
his movements, but she never took her eyes away
from him, not once.

Her eyes were darker at this point, deeper than
they were outside. Her pupils were dilated and
John knew what this meant, but he didn't dare ruin
the moment by asking her. Neither of them could be
any more turned on. It was time.

John ripped off his shirt and launched off his
shoes and pants with a speed only men seem capable
of achieving when undressing themselves. He
climbed on top of her, his larger, manly body
overtaking her figure, making her nearly
impossible to see if looking at them from above.
Her breathing increased as he grew closer, her
face lining up with his chest. John underestimated
how small she actually was; after failing to feel
his way around, he had to rise back up on his
knees before he could see what he was doing. He
moved his penis near her pussy, pressing against
it slightly to hold it in place. He didn't have a
small dick, but it certainly wasn't one of those
monstrous dildos he came across scanning for porn
on the Internet. He never understood how a woman
could fuck herself with one without killing
herself. But if they could take one of those
monster-sized dildos, Ashley should be able to
handle his seven inch penis (though it was, John
thought, definitely over his usual limit at the
moment). Ashley's thighs were roughly only three
to four times bigger than his dick and her pussy
definitely wasn't the ideal size for easy entry

"I'm going to go slow, but this is probably going
to hurt at first," John whispered, caressing her
hair away from her eyes, "are you ready?" Ashley's
eyes had more fear in them than before, but her
breathing, and more, her words said otherwise.

"Even if I'm screaming, I don't want you to stop,"
she whispered back. John blinked at her a few
times and then kissed her, the best he could at
that angle. Bringing his head back, he braced
himself on the mattress.

He pressed his dick up against her pussy. It was
soft, but definitely not loose. Not far above it,
her tiny bellybutton started to rise and fall,
stretching high and low as Ashley took deep,
concentrated breaths. The lights flickered as
another low rumble shook the house. John leaned
down and breathed in the scent of her hair; it had
started to dry, but it smelled like the sea. He
kissed her on the lips and they licked tongues for
a moment. He brought his face back again and
looked into her eyes. After a few moments, Ashley
nodded a few quick nods, as if to say *It's
alright...just do it*.

John readjusted his body, pressed his penis back
up against the hymen, and *pushed*. The hymen
*burst* and John's penis slid straight into
Ashley's vagina halfway. Ashley let out
incomprehensible sighs and moans before she could
say something.

"Take it out, it hurts, it hurts so much!" she
pleaded, but John slowly moved back, taking his
dick out just a couple inches, and pushed it in,
even further. Ashley _*moaned*_; pain and extreme
pleasure echoed through the house as lightning
flickered through the halls. John nearly passed
out. It seemed all the blood in his body had
rushed into his penis, making his arms start to
vibrate slightly. He knew slow fucking her wasn't
going to work; he was going to cum soon regardless
of what he did, but he needed to increase his
pace.

John started to fuck her. He never felt anything
like this before. He was doing the very thing he
believed he was incapable of doing, something that
may have committed him to the depths of the
underworld, but at this very moment, it didn't
matter. *Heaven* could not feel this good.

Her body bucked up and down while she gasped and
moaned with every thrust. His body towered over
hers and she reached around him, turning her
painful screams into screams that demanded he do
nothing but continue his work, making her feel
something she was never supposed to experience.
Girls her age were not supposed to feel this good.

Rain pounded down so hard now it could be heard
hitting the roof. For all they knew, a tornado may
be coming, tunneling its way through the forest
and straight through their lovemaking. However,
this didn't concern them; if a tornado carried
them away, they would continue their forbidden
embrace, screwing as the tornado whipped them
around in a cyclone of otherworldly pleasure.
Putting it that way, they wished for a tornado to
take them away.

Ashley littered John's chest with random kisses.
She was crying now, but it was a good cry. She
wanted more, and John gave it to her. He increased
his pace, the sound of his balls smacking her ass.
Her folds gripped his dick tighter and warmer than
every woman he had ever fucked combined. Linda
could only *dream* of making him feel this way.

He felt his balls starting to mount, that mental
cue something great was about to happen,
especially if you don't take it out. John didn't
think he could and not because he didn't want to;
he wasn't sure if he was physically able. When he
tried to pull out further than normal, her vice
gripped him until he couldn't move, forcing him
back in.

Ashley wrapped her legs around him and straddled
him like some strange electric bull with a huge
dick in the middle. John wrapped one arm around
her, pressing firmly into the small of her back
and lifting her off the bed. He violently thrusted
into the beautiful little girl in a way that could
only be described as a second puberty. Her ass
answered his thrusts, pushing back and forth,
tighter than any woman could ever achieve. She was
screaming now, but not a loud, porno star scream;
a musical, nut-inducing siren that made John wish
this very thing he was experiencing would carry
into death, because there was nothing in life that
could feel better.

He remembered the vision he had, fucking her on
the school yard, but this was stronger, fuller.
Her small chest and stomach rubbed up and down
against his, her thighs competing with his hips,
her face pressed firmly against his body, eyes
clothes and mouth open, showcasing the strongest
display of pleasure she had ever experienced and
perhaps ever will experience in her entire life.
Her delicate arms held one of John's arms pressed
against the bed and her other arm around his
waist. There was no doubt; they were fucking as
hard as they could.

Suddenly, John froze, pushing one last thrust into
her and holding them together as tight as
physically possible, John's balls started pounding
and he _*BLEW*_! A thunderbolt EXPLODED outside
and John FIRED AGAIN! He came so hard a yell
escaped him. Ashley screamed as she came herself,
spasming, ruthlessly milking John's entire shaft
long, hard, and thorough. Ashley gripped John,
digging her fingers into his back, her mouth open,
warm breaths puffing his chest, tears running down
her cheek, one long moan crying out together with
John as she milked him in rhythm with his own
amazingly sensitive spurts. Her back perched up as
John held her tiny waist even tighter against his
and her legs wrapped to the point they could snap.
Ashley's perfect ass vibrated in rhythm with every
ejaculation John had and it wouldn't stop until
every last bit was taken from him. Moaning,
sweating and steaming, John and Ashley came.and
came.and came...

They both collapsed, John launching himself to the
side, keeping himself from crushing her. His dick
remained deep inside, random spurts firing out as
they both breathed together, unable to move. They
were like two love-struck survivors, warriors who
battled each other to near death. Their heads
cradled close, touching, feeling each other's warm
breath carry across their necks. They didn't
speak...they didn't have to. They were content to
lie there, listening as the rain thinned and the
thunder softened.

The old grandfather clock on the landing at the
base of the stairs clicked. Gears turned, wound up
and set off the bell chimes. The quiet allowed the
chimes to echo all the way up to the bedroom,
where John and Ashley lie motionless, unable to
grasp onto any thought beyond counting how many
bells the clock struck. That tinny, metallic drone
bounced through the halls: *one......two......*

John sluggishly rose up his head and looked into
Ashley's eyes. *Three......four......*

Her pupils were wide and round, incapable of
releasing the hold they had on his heart.
*Five......six......*

John leaned down and gave her a kiss full of
passion and lust. They pulled back; she licked her
lips as they did. *Seven......eight......*

The bell drew out the last, extended tone that
went flat as the bell's vibration slowed to a stop
and the hallway echoes faded. John continued
eyeing Ashley. Her eyes playfully traced parts of
his face, but always ended back in the same place,
staring back at him. Then John knew it; the line
had been crossed.

John also knew, in spite of the way he would feel,
the way he would view himself in the morning and
the consequences that would follow, one thing was
absolutely certain: the night was young. Staring
into her perfect, delicate face framed by the
waves of her dark hair and sweetness of her smile,
John's heart warmed to the core. He had no
intention of wasting it.


Chapter 7

The sun felt warm as Ashley stood there, naked by
the sliding-glass door, soaking in the rays and
the wonders her night held and her morning
brought. She placed her palms on the glass and
smoothly stroked it with her fingers, pleasantly
staring down at nothing. She felt at peace, like
her life finally froze in a moment worth holding
onto. Time stood still as she meditated in the
light while her naked body, now more womanly than
ever, left a slender silhouette when seen from the
other side of the room, the small of her back and
the crest of her ass still faintly visible in a
soft, orange glow. She didn't hear him leave bed,
but she soon felt John's lips on her neck. A warm
smile spread across her lips as she closed her
eyes and lifted her chin in the air, basking in
the touch of her first lover. "I want to try
something," he whispered. He disappeared for a
short while and, upon returning, Ashley caught a
brief reflection of him massaging his love muscle
with lotion while it rose to a peak.

He made love to her then, carefully inserting and
eventually thrusting himself in and out of her
ass. It was a slow, questionable process, but to
them, they had eternity. He held her in the air,
hands under her thighs with her butt, glistening
with oil and lotion against the sun, sticking out
and allowing him the freedom to enjoy the full
pleasure that part of her body possessed. It was
quite a lot, giving Ashley new chills she hadn't
experienced, even after the previous night's
sexual discoveries. Her small hands pressed up
against the glass door, leaving imprints from her
sweat. Her breath condensated the window with each
thrust, the top of her head pushing against the
glass, completing the balance.  They both had
prime positions to stick and move, pulling the
most from their frictions.

The partially enveloped sun fully emerged from a
final, lonely cloud, shining on rain droplets
still clinging to the window from the night's
storm. The droplets prismed, shining colors across
Ashley's face and body while warming her chest in
ways that complimented her pleasure beyond words.
Her tongue panted out as they reached climax, John
filling her with what remained of the night's
encounter. Ashley, now overwhelmed with happiness,
kissed the window and its little droplets, shining
their sparkling, colorful life into her mouth,
blessing her image despite the forbidden pleasure
she was experiencing. Her heart, she knew, was
pure, and she felt confident she could say the
same for John. *They chose this*; it was not for
others to decide.

And the choices continued. Later that morning, the
decision to keep seeing each other was made
without question, though Ashley thought the
chances of them getting caught were likely.
However, she gained hope after seeing her dad's
reaction when John dropped her off later that day.
Her dad gave a blank stare, rubbing his pasty
forehead with one hand while scratching his nasty,
stained t-shirt with the other, near the side of
his respectable girth. If suspicions existed, they
weren't apparent, but after Ashley explained that
John was the father of her new best-friend-Megan,
her dad gave the slightest hint of a smile and
returned inside. Like that, John became Ashley's
exclusive chauffeur, deliberately setting Ashley
up to be friends with his daughter so they could
continue their secret romance while evading
suspicious eyes.

But Ashley never met Megan; other plans were
already put in motion, plans John later admitted
knowing nothing about. Linda had found a new man,
a rich man, and they were in love. As it turned
out, Linda *didn't* have Megan the weekend of John
and Ashley's romance, but she *did* pick her up
from school before John got there. She ran away,
taking her daughter with her and giving neither
Megan nor John a fair chance to simply say
"Goodbye". Linda, having full custody, had the say
in the matter, effectively removing John's ability
to oppose. He didn't mind so much, though; after
talking with Megan on the phone weeks later, she
acted as if she was happier where they went. He
knew she never liked her hometown and he felt
happy for her, even if she forgot to mention she
missed him, even the slightest. He caught wind of
it, though, before she hung up, giving him a brief
moment of held silence before her sudden "I...I
guess we'll talk again, sometime," followed by
John's own stutters, agreeing they'll keep in
touch, visit each other, etcetera. But through the
years, John only saw his daughter a handful of
times, almost always at very special occasions,
like her marriage when she turned 19, or at family
funerals. Despite losing what remained of his
immediate family, Ashley found John to be more or
less unaffected by their departure. It simplified
his life and gave him more time to spend with her.

The initial suspicions about John giving Ashley
rides sans Megan were put to rest when Ashley told
everyone her father was paying him to help with
her transportation. John did, after all, not live
far from her, and on occasion Ashley's father did,
in fact, pay him gas money to continue convincing
himself he was taking care of his daughter. For
everyone else, being that John previously dropped
off and picked up his own daughter, John picking
up Ashley looked almost exactly the same.

Fear did nip the backs of their minds for a while;
John would take Ashley to school, pick her up, all
the while having incredible sex in the various
avenues they found themselves in, now with proper
sexual protection in place (They got lucky the
first time). Initially, it was relegated to John's
place, but once the fear of getting caught
subsided, the Subaru became a likely contender
when a sudden urge pounced into one of their laps.
Being discreet was the key to not getting caught
and they were both smart not to. They carefully
parked the car out of sight, hid condoms in the
trash, prevented themselves from being seen
together in public outside of school and they
*never* talked about each other around people.
Each day, Ashley expected some police officers to
appear in her classroom doorway, give her a stern,
discerning eye and inform the teacher they needed
to speak with her in the principle's office. She
would lie about John, of course, but it would be
only a matter of time before the truth came out
and she would see him cuffed, stowed, and taken
from her, possibly forever.

The fear lasted for days...months...and into
years, until one beautiful morning when Ashley had
a sleep-over at her "friend's" house. She awoke in
the arms of her beloved, swinging calmly in a
large hammock he bought specially for them. She
glanced around, startled, afraid of being seen
with him in the broad daylight, until her heart
slowed a little and only the quiet of his
breathing could be heard. She stared at his broad
shoulders and his chest slowly rising and falling,
the steady tempo of order, of control. All the
fear, the fear of their exposure and the calamity
that would follow, was lifted away like dandelion
seeds blown into the air by a playful schoolgirl.
She thought about those officers showing up at her
classroom door, staring at her with those sad,
discerning eyes, and her own, imagined self
brazenly laughing at them. She knew there weren't
going to be officers at the door; that day would
never come.

As time passed, years, that dark cloud that
initially shrouded their thoughts started to
clear, giving them the freedom to explore their
romance like real couples, or as close as they
could emulate. They would invent dates, usually at
John's place. He didn't have many friends locally,
at least any that would randomly stop by, and his
family lived further from him than Linda now did.
Ashley and John would watch movies, cook, even
read together. Still, even with this newfound
freedom, Ashley wished for more ways to take their
romance further. She wished a lot of things, but
she knew wanting to fly after learning to breath
underwater was a lot to ask for.

At 15, John taught Ashley how to drive the Subaru.
At 17, he helped her prepare for college. And on
the morning of Ashley's 18th birthday, great
change happened, starting with John showing up at
her house, ringing the doorbell and, when Ashley's
father opened the door, punching him square in the
jaw. He knocked out cold, so cold he had no
recollection of his assailant hours later, but
after waking, he realized his little girl had left
him, something he was unsure as to how and react.
Ashley's father, now broke from gambling and back
on the paper plant line where he used to work,
came to a grand realization where his greed as a
widower and his ineptness as a father had taken him.
He was alone.

Even though they now lived together, Ashley knew
John was afraid. Not necessarily of their past
forbidden relationship being discovered (at her
current age, of course, society deemed it
appropriate), but afraid that she may forget him,
leave him for another boy closer to her age, and
possibly even reveal their entire hidden affair.
She put these doubts to rest one night, having a
friend drop her off at his place after prom. When
John opened the door, Ashley made certain she was
more beautiful than when she left his home that
morning. She wore the dress he gave her; since she
spent the day at a different friend's house, this
was the first time he had seen her wear it, a
bareback black-jeweled wonder that cascaded down
her fully developed chest and sultry body. Her
face was tweaked to perfection with dangling ear
rings and her hair was long, wavy, dark, and
absolutely phenomenal. John looked down her body
and pulled his eyes back into hers. He leaned
forward and pretended to brush something off of
her shoulder. Her smile shined. She adorned a
corsage to his shirt, kissed him, and he took her
into his arms and carried her upstairs. That
night, they made more love than when they first
met.

Life grew lonely for a while after this as Ashley
left for college in a used red Grand Am John had
bought for her as a graduation present. Despite
the fact Ashley aced the acceptance exams and
gotten a full ride, she felt empty. She was far
away from John, somewhere he could not follow. He
couldn't afford to; John had started to struggle
with his finances as the insurance market started
to shrink, leaving him with a fixed number of
potential clients. He felt it was safer to keep
the house and earn what he could, at least until
she was finished, before moving elsewhere. In the
meantime, he would wait.

Their time apart was sometimes months, sometimes
entire years before they saw each other. It wasn't
the best of times, for either of them, but they
made due. All the while attending school, fending
off imposing young men and blazing a path to
becoming a phenomenal medical doctor, Ashley
developed a grand plan. An image often flashed
through her mind, an image of her bursting into
John's house much like he kicked in the door
himself, calling out his name, telling him things
were finally in place. After graduation, she would
attend medical school, all the while working in
research and having the chance to support them
both. It would be a day where *she*, for once,
could take care of *him*. Not long after she
turned 21, Ashley planned to do just that, being
accepted into a medical school not far from her
hometown. Ashley felt ecstatic; she was coming
home.

The day she pulled into that massive driveway she
remembered so well, her heart was racing.  Life
had come full circle; since the day John picked
her up and took her away that wonderful afternoon,
here she was, during an afternoon just like it,
about to take him away to a place where they could
*finally* be together in plain sight. She dreamed
of this moment, she wanted this moment soon, and
she needed this moment to be perfect.

As she pulled up to a stop, she saw something,
something that made her grind the car across the
gravel to a stop. Hesitating only for moment, she
bolted out of the Pontiac and sprinted down that
same sidewalk she did with John all those years
ago. Her hair streamed behind her as she ran, her
pace quickened by the simple jeans, white college
t-shirt and sneakers she was wearing, feet
pounding on the sidewalk now dry from the sun's
merciless rays. She arrived at her destination,
not far from the spot where she had fallen on that
first day, and fell to her knees.

Grown grass rested in front of a push mower nearby
and lying behind it, in the fresh cut grass, was
John. He laid on his side with his back turned,
like he fell forward, pushing the mower far in
front of him during his fall. Normally, Ashley
would examine a patient with great care and
precision, identifying the symptoms and solving
the riddle as to what the problem was and how best
to fix it. Here though, her mind was too quick,
much too quick for her liking, only having to grip
the edge of his wrist for the proof of what she
suspected. She knew for a while, even long before
becoming a doctor, that John had a family history
of heart disease. She always feared it, but never
wished to acknowledge the possibility he would
fall victim to it. But here, in plain sight, she
could clearly see it was much too hot to be mowing
and he was much too still to be breathing. That
slow rise and fall of his chest, the image she
knew all too well from lying there with him in
their special hammock, wasn't there. In the same
spot she had given her life to him, a heart attack
had taken it. John was gone.

Ashley stared, blankly, at John's shoulder covered
by his sweaty undershirt and thoughts ran through
her head, not of the pain she was about to endure,
but of the fears she knew John now faced. Their
ultimate judgment came not from their family,
society or even God, but from themselves. Ashley
knew John questioned his actions every day,
fearing not the faces of other men and women, but
fearing where this may lead him in another life if
he were to be called out on his actions. He wasn't
sure what to say, how to respond, or even if he
could justify to himself that his relationship
with her was pure with intentions. But, unlike
John, Ashley knew he cared. She knew he continued
not entirely out of his own selfish needs. He
would have stopped had she asked him, but she
needed him, too. John gave up everything he had,
his potential to find another woman, another life,
and to start over, for Ashley. Every opportunity
that came by, he ignored, because he knew changing
jobs, changing houses, meant changing their lives
and increasing their chances of being exposed. He
would wait, no matter how long it took, he would
wait. And he did. For _*her*_.

Ashley found from experience away from her
hometown, outside of her old life and even from
life with John, others needed to find peace doing
something they were always told they shouldn't,
things she often heard from the church kids at her
old school, lecturing her about the evil ways and
sins of actions condemned by their parents (thus
the status quo for the region) and how hell would
be waiting for those that partook in said actions.
Ashley didn't care much for being told to, at
least being told what her heart should feel and
how wrong she was about everything. She knew what
was wrong, and it wasn't the way John held her in
his arms, whispering soft encouragements about how
much she could accomplish in her life with her
gift, something no one else bothered to mention.
She knew the fear she sensed from those children
and parents who preached the word of God out of
worship, but feared being discovered that they
were not much different than the hell-goers they
so readily condemned. And she knew what she would
say to them now, given a second chance.

Ashley ran her fingers through John's hair. It was
soft still and his touch felt warm. The sun had
been beating down on his body after he passed, but
Ashley sensed from his touch that he hadn't been
gone long. She felt her heart thickening, but she
would cry later. She needed to give him the
moment, the time he so truly deserved. He had
given her so much, allowed her the chance to
accomplish what she had, and prepared her for the
things she was on the path to do. Saving lives,
changing lives. That was her life now, a life John
so selflessly helped to create. He was her good
monster, and her angel. He would've been her
husband and she, his wife. They were divided now,
but she knew wherever he went, wherever his soul
was deemed fit beyond this realm full of people so
good and so dark, were he to end up in heaven,
hell, or someplace unknown, she knew that
eventually, when her time came, she would find
him...and follow. She wasn't his anymore; he was
hers.

Sunlight streamed and scattered through the leaves
up above as a soft breeze took hold. The trees
swayed and the light flickered across the side of
John's face. Ashley sighed as the gust rippled
through his clothes and his hair, making him
appear to be moving, something that may have
briefly convinced her he was alive if she allowed
herself that cruel luxury of blind hope. There was
nothing to do here now, nothing to hold on to. He
was gone. Her superhero had fallen.

The wind gusted through her own hair. Coming back
to Earth, she realized she had another long trek
ahead of her and now another storm was coming. It
was time to go.

Ashley slowly leaned across John, turned him onto
his back and breathed in his scent. It was still
there; everything about him was still perfect. The
only thing missing was his heart, and she already
missed it dearly. She gently cradled his face on
one side and turned it toward her own. His eyes
were shut, but his expression was peaceful. She
knew she didn't have long before the moment was
lost and her nerves gave way. Her heart was
already sinking, but she forced her eyes to hold
and her cries to steady. Wind gently blew through
both of their hair, gradually building in
intensity as she moved forward. Giving John every
second she could, Ashley slowly leaned in, closed
her eyes, and kissed him, one last time.


Taste the Rainbow


*Fin*