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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to o
o be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Educating Maria -- Chapter 2 (M-f-teen, ped, affair)
by Ghostwheel
"Getting to Know You"
I resumed reading my book, by this time almost finished with it, doing my
best to ignore Maria and her parents. What had been harmless fun on the
plane could get me into serious trouble if I kept it up here in the
terminal. But, I could feel her eyes on me, and occasionally glanced over.
She had a book of her own, one of those teen romances written specifically
for girls like her, but she didn't seem to be making much progress with it.
I noticed at one point that her mother had gone off, probably to the ladies'
room or to have a cigarette. Starting to feel a little uncomfortable myself,
I put down my book and headed off in search of the men's room. Seeing that
she was still watching me, I said to her, "Could you keep an eye on my stuff
while I'm gone?"
She smiled (gods, what a smile she had) and said, "Sure, no problem." I
crossed paths with her mother as I was leaving the waiting area, and then
decided to take a little walk around and get a snack. I knew I'd left my
luggage in good hands.
When I got back, about fifteen minutes later, the boredom of the trip had
finally gotten to her parents as well. Although the waiting area wasn't
deserted, at that hour the few other people around seemed to be more
interested in sleep than talk, so Maria's mother started up a conversation
with me.
"Are you going all the way to Boston, too?" she asked.
"Well, if they put enough gas in the plane I am," I told her. I usually
don't like to be bothered by people I don't know, but she seemed like a nice
woman, and my book could always wait. She laughed a little at my joke, which
was good. Nervous fliers tend to make me nervous as well. "Are you going on
business or pleasure?"
"Some of both," she said. "My oldest daughter is in school at Boston
University, and she decided to stay for the summer term, and my husband is
going to have an operation on his knee. And do you live in Boston?"
"No, about an hour outside the city, but it's close enough." I turned to
her husband, who had been listening to us. "So where are you going? Mass
General?"
"Yes, that's right," he said. His voice was remarkably soft, not at all
what I'd have expected from his appearance. "They wanted to take care of me
at the VA hospital in San Francisco, but my doctor persuaded the
penny-pinchers that this specialist in Boston is the only one who can do the
job right. Have you ever heard of Doctor Steven Brookfeld? He's going to be
operating on me."
I'd never heard of Doctor Brookfeld, but I assured him that Mass General
had an excellent staff. "You said VA hospital. Were you injured in the
service?" All this time, Maria was sitting beside her mother, looking like
she was looking for a way of getting into the conversation, and now she saw
her chance.
"Papa fought in Vietnam. He was a corporal, and got hit with a grenade
fragment, and got a purple heart and a letter saying that he was a hero.
And now they're going to fix his leg so he can walk without his cane. I'm
Maria, and this is my father Miguel, and my mother Donna. And my sister's
name is Consuela, and she'll be meeting us at the airport in Boston." Just
about then, she realized that she was babbling, so she shut her mouth and
looked embarrassed for a moment. Since she'd introduced them all, I
introduced myself, and we all shook hands.
We continued the smalltalk for a while. I found out that Maria was going
to be sixteen in a few weeks (sweet sixteen and never been kissed? I
wouldn't have bet on it), just as I'd figured. My first impression of her
parents had been a little off the mark, though. Miguel had his own business,
customizing cars and vans, and of course San Francisco still has a pretty
good market for that. He had six people working for him, and was making
enough to put his daughters through college (Maria said she was hoping to go
to CalTech), so I guess he had a right to wear gold chains if he wanted to.
Donna handled the bookkeeping and billing for the company, and Maria did
some airbrush work, so it was a real family operation. Miguel even had a
little portfolio of some of his finest creations, and I was very impressed.
Maria turned to one picture, a black van with big chrome wheels and a
painting of the side of a beautiful nude woman. The lettering over the
picture announced the van's name to be "Love Shack." Not surprising. "This
was my best one," Maria said, "until I had to change it."
I could tell she wanted me to ask, so I did. "What did you have to
change?"
She giggled. "Some judge ruled it pornographic, so I had to airbrush a
bikini on her. Don't you think it looks better this way?"
Now, how do you answer a question like that? Fortunately, if her parents
let her do paintings like that, I figured they couldn't be too uptight.
"Yeah, I suppose it would be kind of like painting sunglasses on the Mona
Lisa."
"Do you know who that is, in the painting?" she asked, obviously pleased
by my comment. I shook my head. "That's my sister, Consuela. But I think she
looks even better than that. Her boobs aren't quite as big, though. The guy
who owns the van said to make them real big."
At that point, her mother drew the line. "Okay, Maria, we don't need to
discuss your sister's boobs with our friend. Your painting is a work of art,
and we can leave it at that."
Maria noticed my book, on the chair next to me. "Could I look at that?"
she asked. I handed it to her. "This is the kind of painting I want to do,"
she said, examining the cover. "Do you know who painted this? It looks like
a Jim Burns...yes, there it is, see?" Sure enough, the signature on the back
cover said it was by Burns. She knew her art, that was for sure. "He was at
BayCon last year. I wanted to get some of his work, but even his roughs were
too expensive for me, and nobody was buying my stuff." She'd shown her
artwork at BayCon? I was even more impressed. "Is that a good book?" she
asked next.
"Oh, yeah, it's really good. It's the first of a trilogy, and I've got the
other two at home. I can't wait to get to them. I've only got a few pages
left. If you want to borrow it on the flight, you're welcome to. I saw you
were reading something yourself."
"Yeah, one of those dumb kid romances. I like SF better, but I didn't have
time to get to the bookstore before we left. I'd really like to read this
one." I told her about the great bookstores in Harvard Square, and said she
should try to visit them, if they had time.
"Oh, she'll have plenty of time. We'll be there about two weeks, since
they want me to start my physical therapy there," Miguel said. "Maybe you
could give us directions to Harvard Square?"
It seemed strange to me that anyone would actually need directions, but I
guess I would've been equally lost in San Francisco. I gave them a few
notes, and suggestions of other places they might like to see. Maria seemed
crazy about the Museum of Science, and Fanueil Hall. She was an amazingly
bright kid, and I enjoyed talking to her. I liked her almost enough to
forget how much she was turning me on. But not quite.
To Be Continued in chapter 3: "Would You Like Some Candy, Little Girl?"