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Introduction:

The story continues.
Chapter Fourteen

“I’m home...anybody here?”

The voice from downstairs startled her awake.  She didn’t remember drifting off, but she must have.  And Peter must have as well, because his eyes were wide with dismay when hers snapped open in the twilit room. 

“Oh god, it’s my Dad,” she whispered.  

She jumped out of bed and ran to the bedroom door. She opened it, leaned her head out, and called,  “Hi Dad!  I’ll be right down!”

She closed the door and hurried back to where Peter still lay on the bed, still wide-eyed.

She leaned close and said quietly, “You stay here for a while.  I’ll let you know when it’s safe, okay?”  

Without waiting for a reply she began rooting around frantically for clothing.  She pulled some underwear out of the drawer and was about to step into them when Peter said, “Wait.”

He grabbed some tissues from her bedside table and quickly knelt in front of her.  

She looked down and saw that there was semen, and a little blood, between her legs.  He cleaned her up as best he could, and said, “Do you have any, you know, tampons?  It would probably be a good idea to use one for now.”

“They’re in the bathroom,” she replied.  “Never mind, just give me some more tissues.”

She pulled up her underwear and stuffed in the handful of tissues he handed her.  She quickly pulled on a bra and a t-shirt, followed by her old gym shorts.  She took another tissue and wiped off her smeared lipstick, then picked up another t-shirt and dried her sweaty hair as best she could, and combed it with her fingers. 

Then she gave Peter a quick kiss, and hurried out the door.  

Her legs felt stiff and there was some soreness between her legs as she made her way down the stairs. She wondered if she smelled like sex.  She felt wonderful and anxious at the same time. 

Her father was sitting at the kitchen table looking through the mail.  Jane thought he looked tired, and much older than he actually was.  

As she walked in she said, “Sorry, Dad.  I lay down for a while and the next thing I knew was when you came in the door.”  

Well, that’s the truth, she thought.

Her father looked up and said, “No big deal.  Where’s your mother?”

Jane had to think for a second.  “Oh, that’s right!  She said she’d probably be working late ‘cause she took time off this morning.  I got my braces off, Dad, look!”  She made a comic grin at him.

He seemed a little puzzled by her playfulness, and for a moment he looked at her as he had last night, as if she had somehow become a stranger, but eventually he smiled back at her, and said, “Be-yootiful.  You’re a knockout, hon.”

She sketched an imaginary curtsey and said, “Thank you, kind sir.”  She paused.  “Now, what are we going to do about dinner?  Mom said there was some stuff in the freezer but I guess it’s too late to defrost anything.” 

 She crossed over to the fridge and opened it.  After perusing the contents for a moment she looked back at her father and asked,  “What would you say to an omelet?”

“Sounds good.  You get the eggs going and I’ll get the innards ready.”

She was glad they had plenty of eggs—she was famished.  She pulled out six and went to crack them into a bowl while her father poked around in the fridge for the rest.  

He came up with some leftover ham, some cheese, half a red pepper and an onion, and brought them over to the counter.  He began to slice and chop while Jane got out the big cast-iron skillet and put it on the stove.  

While it was heating she beat the eggs together with a little milk, then added a little butter to the skillet before pouring in the egg mixture.  The smell of cooking eggs made her mouth water.  When they were nearly done her father added his contributions, and she neatly folded the omelet over them.  

She quickly set the table while the omelet was finishing, and when it was done she cut it in half with her spatula and scooped it out onto their plates.

She experienced a moment of dread as they sat down at the table.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had been alone in the same room with her father for more than a few seconds.  Possibly he felt the same awkwardness, as they ate in silence for some time.  Or maybe he had just drifted back into his usual preoccupied state, she couldn’t tell.

She allowed her thoughts to drift as well, back up the stairs to her room.  She wondered what Peter was doing.  Probably trying on my underwear, she thought to herself with a smile.  That thought brought her back to the night he had appeared beneath her window, wearing a tuxedo—and her panties.  She remembered waltzing in the mist, his voice humming the tune next to her ear...

“You look happy.”

She jerked herself back to the present to find her father looking at her.  His expression was a combination of curiosity and...what?  Admiration?  

She gathered her wits and said, after a moment,  “Yeah...I had a pretty good day today.  You know, finally getting my braces off, and I got a lot of nice compliments about my hair. And Mom and I had lunch at Pirandello’s!”

Her father nodded as she spoke but said nothing.  She was afraid he was going to drift off again, so she said the first thing that came to mind.  “How was your day, Dad?”

He seemed a little taken aback, but replied,  “It was okay.  Nothing special.  It’s not very exciting work...” He seemed to look inward for a moment, then continued,  “...and I guess that’s a good thing.”  

Jane looked at him questioningly and he went on.  Well, the old job paid a lot better, you know that, but there was a lot of pressure all the time.  Too much pressure for me, I guess.  That’s why...well, you know.”  

He looked down and didn’t see Jane’s nod.  When he looked up again he changed the subject somewhat by saying, “Did your Mom tell you we’re going on retreat this weekend?”

Jane nodded again.  She hesitated, then asked,  “Do you...like going on retreat, Daddy?”

He stared at her for a moment.  They had never talked much and certainly never about anything this personal.  He looked away, thoughtfully, for a while, then brought his attention back to her, and said, “Well, it’s never been exactly what I’d call fun, honey.  Though it’s a lot better than it was when we started going.”  

He stopped for a moment, considering, then went on.  “Your Mom was amazing—she saved my life, really.  A lot of women would have given up, especially after I lost my job and everything was going to hell in a handbasket.”  He gave her a rueful smile.  “I don’t know why she thought I was worth saving.  I sure didn’t.  But she got me to that first meeting and made damn sure I kept going, no matter what.

“That first retreat just about killed me anyway.  The regular meetings were hard enough.  You know, having to say out loud that you have a...a drinking problem and all.  But spending a whole weekend tearing yourself inside out...” His gaze was inward again, and his face looked ravaged.  “...trying to pull up all the bad stuff, expose it.”  

He came back to himself and looked at Jane.  “I hated having to show all my weak spots to your mother.  I mean, she already knew I had a problem, obviously.  But having her know all the things...” He trailed off and looked down again.  

Then he looked up and tried to smile.  “Anyway, it’s gotten a lot easier.  Your Mom and I are pretty good together, these days.  We actually spend a lot of the retreat time helping other couples, and I like that.  Makes me feel like I’m doing something useful in this world.”

Then he looked sharply at Jane, as if seeing her for the first time. 

 He said, “I just realized something.  You know that one of the steps at A.A. is apologizing to anyone you might have hurt because of your drinking?” 

 Jane nodded, uncertainly.  

He continued, “Well, anyway, it is.  And I’ve spent whole weekends apologizing to your mother.  But I just realized that I’ve never once apologized to you.”  He paused.  “And I guess I need to apologize for that first.”  

He suddenly grew angry.  “My god, what’s the matter with me?  My own daughter.  And I’m so caught up in my own troubles that I don’t even...”

“Daddy, it’s all right...”

“No, it’s not all right, it’s inexcusable. “  

He buried his face in his hands for a moment, and rubbed it.  Then he forced himself to sit up straight and look at her.  

“Jane,” he said, “I’ve treated you like a stranger in your own house.  I guess we both have, your mother and I.  I’ve been trying to...to get better, and your mother’s been trying to help me, but that’s no excuse for shutting you out.  I promise you that’s going to change from now on.

Jane felt tears spring to her eyes, and she started to speak, but her father said, “Let me finish.  I...don’t remember a lot of what I did when I was drinking, but I know I said and did a lot of things that I shouldn’t have, and wouldn’t have if I’d been sober.”  

Jane inadvertently reached up to touch the place where her bangs had been.  Her father looked away and, after a moment, continued, “When I’ve...apologized to other people, especially your mother, I can’t...there are never the right words to say how sorry I am...and now...with you...I can’t even imagine how much I must have hurt you, and I have no excuse for it.”

Jane forced herself to sit quietly, even though the tears were running down her face. 

 Her father turned back to her and said,  “I can’t say that I’ll make it up to you, because I don’t think there’s any way I can.  But I hope...maybe you can believe that I really do love you. That I never stopped, even when I....”  His voice choked and faded.  

Jane jumped from her seat and ran around the table to embrace him, unable to speak.  

He whispered, “You’re my precious girl,” and held her tightly.  

It was an awkward position, standing bent over with her head on his shoulder, their arms around each other’s shoulders.  She wouldn’t change it for the world.

They remained that way even when they heard her mother’s car pull up and stop, and then her mother coming in through the front door, calling, “Hello...something smells good!” 

Her mother fell silent when she reached the kitchen and saw the tableau before her.  After a moment, though, she simply walked over and quietly added herself to the embrace.

They all sat at the kitchen table and talked and cried and laughed and made plans for some time after that.  They talked about taking a trip together after school was out.  And this reminded Jane that, one, she still had homework to do, especially with final exams coming up, and two, that Peter was still trapped in her room.  So she reluctantly excused herself and made her way upstairs...

Only to find the room empty.  

There was a note on her pillow:  “It sure seems like a lot of people love you around here.”  

He must have heard them in the kitchen, she thought, smiling.  

The note went on, “I know I do. See you tomorrow...” 

He had scrawled his name, then added, “P.S.  We kind of messed up the sheet.  I wish we could frame it or something.  I love you.”

She looked over and saw that the sheet was in fact stained from their first lovemaking, and she quickly pulled it off.  She thought about washing it in the bathroom, but couldn’t bring herself to do it and, remembering his comment, instead folded it up carefully and hid it in her closet before getting a fresh one from the linen closet.  She managed to get it on the bed before exhaustion suddenly overcame her and she had to sit down.

She couldn’t believe everything she’d been through in the last two days.  From the moment she’d come home with her new haircut it seemed as though everything in her life had begun to change.  

Suddenly she was pretty—especially with the braces gone.  Suddenly she had parents again.  Suddenly she was no longer a virgin.  

She ran the palm of her hand over the new sheet where the stain had been.  Peter.  Peter hadn’t changed.  

Well, yes he had: he, too, was no longer a virgin.  She felt an upwelling of love for him.  Oh god, she wished he was still here.  She could think of nothing she’d like better than to be able to lie down in bed right now, with him there to hold her.

She did lie down—she couldn’t help herself—and imagined that she was nestled in his arms.  She closed her eyes.

Sometime later she was dimly aware of the door to her room opening quietly.  Of someone covering her with her blanket and kissing her forehead.  Of the light being turned out and the door closing again.  Then nothing more.

When she woke up her bedside clock said it was a little after five a.m.  She felt a little dazed but otherwise rested.  

Still in the clothes she’d fallen asleep in, she padded down to the bathroom and splashed a little cold water on her face.  

When she pulled down her shorts and underwear to use the toilet, she saw the wad of tissues she had hurriedly stuffed there when she was getting dressed.  It was lightly spotted with blood and other fluids.  She wondered, smiling, if Peter would like to have this framed as well.  No, she didn’t think so.  

When she was done she put the tissues into the wastebasket under the sink, carefully tucking it under some other tissues for safety’s sake.  She wet a paper towel and cleaned the area between her legs.  Then she pulled up her underwear and shorts and went back to her room to do the homework she hadn’t gotten to the night before.

She showered, dressed and came downstairs a couple of hours later when she heard her parents beginning to stir.  

When she walked into the kitchen her parents greeted her warmly, her mother giving her a quick hug, and asked if she’d slept all right.   

When she was seated at the table her father said,  “Your mother and I were talking last night after you went upstairs.  I know tonight’s a school night, but it’s our last night together before we leave for the retreat.  So we were thinking we could at least go out for dinner, and that would still leave you time to do your schoolwork.  Would that be all right?”

Jane smiled at both of them.  “Oh yes, that would be great!”

Chapter Fifteen

When Jane arrived at school that day—leaving home a little early and walking instead of riding her bike, as she still felt a little tender—the first person she saw was Chrissy, waiting at the door.  

Oh god, she had forgotten all about Chrissy!  And she hadn’t talked to Peter about her plan.  Still, she was pretty sure it would work so she walked right up to Chrissy and said,  “I talked to him last night.”

 Chrissy’s eyes went wide, but before she could say anything, Jane said, “I’ll tell you at lunch, okay?”  And hurried on.

She spent a good part of the morning mentally reviewing her plan.  This next stage was simple, but crucial.  

It was the bait.

She was so preoccupied that as she was making her way through the halls to her next class she didn’t notice Peter coming towards her until he stepped right in front of her, blocking her path.  

Then, to her complete astonishment, he put his arms around her and gave her a quick but warm hug, followed by a kiss on the cheek and a loving smile—and was gone before she could react.  

She couldn’t believe he had done that, right here in the hallway where everyone could see them.  She tried to fight off the huge goofy smile that she felt creeping onto her face.  

Failed. Completely.  

She had never been so happy in her life.  Still, she looked around to make sure none of her friends had seen them together.  Especially Chrissy; that could throw everything off.  

But no: a few girls she didn’t know looked back at her, giggling, as they passed, but that was okay.  She drifted along to her class with a dreamy smile still on her face.

After her class she got to the lunchroom as quickly as she could, knowing Chrissy would be waiting.  And of course she was, and they took the same table as before.  

They had hardly sat down when Chrissy turned to her, her eyes bright with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety, and asked, “What did he say?”  Then she seemed to hold her breath.

Jane gave her the speech she had been mentally rehearsing all morning:  “All right.  Father Brian said he’s going to be in Haverson all this week, but he’s willing to come here this Sunday.  

“Wait,” she said, holding up her hand to forestall questions.  “Let me tell you the whole story, okay?”  

Chrissy, who had been about to speak, bit her lip and nodded.  

“My parents are going to be out of town all weekend,” Jane went on, “so I’ve asked him to come to my house.  He said he could probably be there by eleven-fifteen.  Can you be there by eleven?  You have a car, right?”

Chrissy nodded quickly.  “Yes.  I have to sing in the choir for early and late mass, but we’re usually done by 10:30.”

Jane gave her an encouraging smile and said, “Good.  I’ll tell you how to get to my house in a minute.  We don’t have any close neighbors so it’ll be completely private, okay?  You can tell your parents we’re going to study for our finals together or something.”

Chrissy nodded again.  “Okay.  But what do I...”

Jane cut her off again.  “Wait.  There’s more to it.  He said to tell you some things.”  

She made a show of pulling a piece of paper from her purse and reading from it. 

 “His real name isn’t Father Brian, that’s just the name he uses when he’s meeting privately with people.  He has to work that way because what he’s doing isn’t officially part of the Church.”  

She looked inquiringly at Chrissy, who nodded to show that she understood.  Her gaze was intensely focused.

Jane went on.  “So, in order to protect himself, he requires everyone he meets with privately to be blindfolded for the entire time they’re together.”  

She glanced up to see how Chrissy would take this and saw that her eyes had gone wide, and her mouth was hanging slightly open, making her look a little stupid.  

“He says this is for your safety as well, in case you ever run into each other somewhere else, like in church.  You won’t know what he looks like and he won’t really know what you look like.  I haven’t told him your name and he won’t ask you.”  

Chrissy nodded doubtfully as Jane continued,  “Once you’re blindfolded he’ll come in and talk to you, and what happens after that…depends on what you tell him, I guess.”

Jane re-folded the piece of paper and returned it to her purse, then looked at Chrissy.  

“I’m supposed to call him tonight and let him know whether you still want to meet with him.”  She stopped and looked expectantly at Chrissy.  

Chrissy now resembled the proverbial deer-in-the-headlights.  She started to speak, then stopped.  Finally she said, “I...I don’t know.”  She fell silent for a moment then said,  “Do you know if he...” She swallowed.  “...If he has to...”

Jane had been expecting this, and cut in with.  “I don’t know.  I think it depends on what you tell him.”  She pretended to think for a moment.  “Oh,” she said, as if suddenly remembering.   “He did say that you shouldn’t wear pantyhose, for some reason.”  

This was really just Jane’s personal prejudice, but she had her reasons.

Chrissy seemed almost as dismayed by this as by everything else she had been told.  “But I’ll be coming right from mass,” she said, as much to herself as to Jane.  Then her face brightened somewhat and she said, “I know.  I can wear my thigh-highs!”

Jane didn’t know what she meant but nodded as if she did, and added, as if the thought had just occurred to her, “It might be a good idea to wear some nice underwear too—you know, just in case.”

Chrissy’s face fell again.  She looked away and began shaking her head.  She said, “If he… I don’t know...I don’t know if I can...”

Jane smiled reassuringly and shrugged.  “That’s okay.  It’s totally up to you,” she said soothingly.  “But I have to call him tonight, so let me know before school gets out, okay?  Tell you what, I’ll wait by the door for you.”  

Without waiting for an answer she gave Chrissy what she hoped was a sympathetic smile and patted her on the shoulder, then picked up her tray and left Chrissy alone with her thoughts.

She hadn’t gone more than ten or fifteen steps when she saw someone waving to her from the middle of the room.  This turned out to be Suzy and Jane was glad she hadn’t been seen sitting with Chrissy.  She put her tray down next to Suzy’s and sat.  She hadn’t touched her lunch yet, so it looked like she had just come out of the food line.

Suzy started talking before Jane could take her first bite.  “I was hoping I’d see you today.  I was gonna call you if I didn’t.  You know my Mom’s store?”

Jane nodded.  Suzy’s mother owned Kid Stuff, which sold mostly children’s clothing, along with a few toys and party supplies.

“Well, I usually work there during the summer, but the girl who worked with me last year isn’t coming back, so Mom asked me if there was anyone I thought would be good.  I asked Lucia first, of course, but she’s going to be away a lot of the summer.  Then I thought of you.  Wouldn’t it be fun if we could work together?  The pay’s not great but it beats bagging groceries at Piggly-Wiggly.”

Jane was caught off guard.  She’d never had a job in her life.  Her parents had certainly never taken enough notice of her to suggest it during the previous couple of summers.  But now…  Wouldn’t they be proud of her if she came home and told them she had a summer job already lined up?  And she’d used up a lot of her stolen money buying new clothes—and underwear—so she could use the job.  Plus she’d be working with Suzy, so that would be all right.  Then she remembered the vacation plans.

She said, “That sounds great.  My parents and I are going on vacation sometime, though.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know—maybe a week.”

Suzy smiled.  “That’ll probably be all right, as long as you tell Mom well ahead of time.  So whaddya think?”

Jane smiled back.  “I think it’ll be fun.”

“Great.  I’ll tell Mom.  We start as soon as school’s over.”  

And with that the conversation turned to other things.

When the school day was over Jane hurried to the main entrance, hoping to get the final word from Chrissy and get going, especially since she was on foot, so she could meet Peter in their usual place.  She had so much to tell him!

Chrissy was there, gnawing on a fingernail and looking even more anxious than before.  

When she saw Jane, she hunched over a little as if trying to hide in plain sight. And when Jane came up to her she had trouble meeting Jane’s eye, looking away again and again.   

When she finally forced herself to look at Jane she said, “Swear you’ll never tell anybody.” 

Jane nodded.  

Chrissy looked back at her for a moment as if wondering whether to trust her, then looked away and said, “All right.  Tell him...to come.”  

Then she turned as if to leave, but Jane caught her arm and asked, “Are you sure?” 

Chrissy nodded, somewhat jerkily.  

Jane told her how to find her house, then finished with, “By eleven, okay?”

Chrissy nodded again, pulled her arm free and rushed out the door. 

 Jane followed at a more leisurely pace.  She knew that she wasn’t being honest with Chrissy, and she felt bad about that, because she was beginning to like her, or at least sympathize with her. Jane understood what it was like to be an outsider.   

But, she thought, if everything went according to plan, Chrissy would be getting exactly what she said she wanted.   And if she changed her mind before Sunday she could let Jane know, and that would be that.

But Jane didn’t think she would.

Peter was sitting under his usual tree when she arrived, but instead of standing up, he extended a hand, as if for assistance, and when she grasped it, pulled her tumbling into his lap and kissed her.  Which wasn’t easy, because she was laughing so hard.

“You jerk,” she said, reaching up in mock-anger to pull his hair, then pulling his head down to kiss him again.  “And what was the idea of grabbing me in the hall today?  I thought we were staying invisible.”

He grinned sheepishly.  “Ah, I couldn’t help myself.  You looked so cute coming down the hall with your mind a million miles away.  And anyway, school’s almost over.  Besides, you’re about the least invisible person I’ve ever seen, all of a sudden.” 

 Jane felt herself blushing with pleasure. 

 “And...” he hesitated, his expression a little more serious, “...doesn’t it feel like everything’s different since...you know, since yesterday?”

She looked up at him and sighed contentedly.  “I’ll say.”  

They kissed again and it was perfection to be sitting under this tree, in this moment, with each other.

When they pulled apart, he looked as happy as she felt. 

“I wouldn’t change yesterday for anything,” he said, then added,  “Except I’d have your father come home later.”  

They both laughed.  He gave her a look that was full of love. “God, I want to make love to you about a million more times...and that’s just today.”  

She smiled up at him.  He smiled back, then became serious again.  “But let’s promise each other to be careful, okay?  It would be terrible if you got pregnant.  So we shouldn’t make love unless I’ve got a...unless I’m wearing a...”

She looked puzzled, so he explained about condoms, then continued,  “The Pill would be better, but I don’t think you can get that until you’re twenty-one unless you have your parents’ permission.”  

He looked questioningly at her, but she shook her head and replied, “They’ve just remembered they have a daughter.  I don’t think that’s something I could ask them about just now.”  

He nodded, and she continued,  “So I think you’d better get some of those things...”—she smiled wickedly—“...real soon.”

She kissed him again, this time teasingly allowing her tongue to slip into his mouth and at the same time reaching a sly hand down to press against his zipper and squeeze him there, not caring that they were sitting in full few of several houses.  

Then she jumped out of his lap, laughing, and made as if to run, but he managed to grab her arm and pull himself to his feet.  Then he pulled her, giggling, behind the tree, where they were less visible, and pressed her back against it. 

Then he said, “Pull up your skirt...slave.”

Still smiling, she did so, revealing a pair of sky-blue panties with black paisleys on them.  

He slid his hand between her legs and caressed her there while he kissed her the way she had kissed him.  She was pleasantly surprised to notice that there was no longer any soreness there.  His kiss went on much longer than hers had, but she wasn’t going to complain.

It might have gone on even longer if the sound of a screen door creaking open nearby hadn’t made them jump apart.  

The sound had come from across the street. They froze for a few seconds, and then leaned cautiously around opposite sides of the tree.  

They saw a somewhat elderly woman wrestling a two-wheeled shopping cart out of the doorway of her house.  Then she pulled the inner door closed and dragged the cart bouncing down the concrete steps of her porch, allowing the screen door to swing closed behind her.  She began walking along the street towards town, pushing the cart ahead of her.

It wasn’t a particularly interesting sight, or so Jane thought, especially compared to what they had just been doing.  But Peter was looking very thoughtful as he watched the woman’s progress down the street.  

When she had almost vanished from sight he took Jane’s hand and said, “Come on,” as he led her across the street toward the woman’s house.

When she saw they were heading right for the front door, Jane said, “What are we doing?”  

But Peter just smiled and led her up to the door.  Then he rang the doorbell.

“Peter, what are you doing?”

Peter held up a finger, telling her to wait.  He appeared to be listening intently.  When it became apparent that there was no one was going to answer, he pulled the screen door open slightly and reached in to try the knob.

He was trying to get into the house!  Jane was horrified. “Peter, cut it out!” she hissed, trying to pull him away from the door.

“Locked anyway.  Damn,” he exclaimed as she pulled him down the steps.

“Why did you want to get in there?”

He smiled at her and said, “Well, I thought we could...” 

He stopped.  Turned his head and looked at the garage.  Looked back at her, his smile wider.  Then he took her hand again and started around the side of the house where the garage was.  

There was a tall hedge separating the house from its neighbor and Jane felt a little less conspicuous, if no less confused, as they made their way towards the back, where there was another door, leading into the garage.  

This one was unlocked.

Jane tried to protest as they stepped into the musty darkness that smelled of gasoline, but found her curiosity getting the better of her now that they weren’t so visible.  

Peter fumbled around and flipped on a light-switch.  By the dim yellow light they were able to see that there was an empty space where a car would normally be parked.  Maybe her husband had it, Jane thought.  More importantly, there was another door.  

Peter immediately went to it and quietly tried the knob.  Which turned.  He pushed the door open slightly and leaned his head in, listening.  He called softly, “Hello?”  Then, more loudly, “Hello, anybody here?”

Nothing.  

He turned back towards Jane, and pushed the door all the way open with his right arm, while simultaneously bowing and making a sweeping gesture of invitation with his left.  

She walked timidly past him into the house, absurdly feeling as if she ought to be walking on tiptoe.  She found herself in an anteroom, with coat-hooks on the wall and an assortment of rubber boots on the floor.  There was an umbrella stand in one corner.  At the opposite end was another door, with a window inset, through which Jane could see the kitchen.  

She opened it and, wiping her shoes carefully on the mat in front of it, entered, followed closely by Peter, who left both doors open.  In case we have to make a quick getaway, Jane thought.

Peter took over the lead, and they made their way stealthily into the living room, breathing as quietly as they could.  

It was a perfectly ordinary living room, with a couch and big stuffed chairs and a television and bookshelves and framed prints on the walls.  Over the couch there was a picture window, which would have looked out on the street but had curtains drawn across it.  

At the opposite end of the room was a stairway.  Peter went over to it, looked up and called “Hello?”  

When there was no answer he returned to the middle of the room where Jane was standing.  He smiled at her.  Then he crouched slightly and, placing his hands behind her knees, stood up again.  

Jane felt his hands sliding up the backs of her thighs—and the back of her skirt rising with them—until they settled on her behind, which he began to fondle sensuously as he found her mouth with his.  

Oh god, he was making out with her in the middle of this woman’s house...which they had just broken into.  

This is crazy, she thought.  This is really stupid and dangerous.  This is really...  She felt one of Peter’s hands move between her legs again and begin to stroke her there.  ...exciting!

She had no idea why, but there was no denying that the very dangerousness of what they were doing made it even sexier.  

She returned his kisses passionately as their tongues went back and forth between their mouths.  She pulled his shirttails out of his pants and began running her hands all over his back, then around to the front, where she reached up and began to pinch his nipples.  He made an encouraging moan when she did this, and she reached down and began to unfasten his belt...

There was a thud.  Something small, hitting the floor.

It came from upstairs.

They froze in mid-kiss, Peter with his hands still under her skirt, Jane with hers on his belt.  They listened intently for what seemed like several minutes.  

There was no further sound.  

They silently drew apart, and Peter walked softly over to the staircase.  He began to climb, carefully placing his foot with each step.  He was about halfway up when he saw something and stopped.  Jane saw his shoulders drop in relief and heard him let his breath out in a whoosh.

Then she heard a plaintive little meow coming from the top of the stairs.

Peter turned to her, rolled his eyes and clutched comically at his chest as if having a heart attack. 

 “I’ll be back in a second,” he said.  “I’m going to lock this guy up for now.  C’mere, kitty.  Hey, come back here...” 

He ran up the stairs after it.

It always takes a while to catch a cat that doesn’t want to be caught, and after several unsuccessful attempts at luring it out from under a bed he finally gave up and settled for closing the bedroom door on it. 

 When he came downstairs again the living room was empty.  

“Jane?” he called.  No answer.

He found her in the kitchen.  She was lying on her back on the Formica kitchen table.  Her head was resting comfortably on her nested hands and she was smiling languorously at him, her eyes half-closed.  

Her legs were dangling over the side, and they were spread apart, which made it even more obvious than it would have been that she was wearing nothing but her sky-blue panties.  As he gaped at her she reached slowly down with one hand and began to delicately stroke herself with one finger, never taking her eyes from his.

He approached as if hypnotized, and stood between her knees at the edge of the table.  

She thought he looked adorable, standing there with his shirt hanging out and one end of his belt wagging suggestively in front of him.  

He continued to watch her as she touched herself.  Then he leaned slowly down until his forearms were resting on either side of her on the table and, slipping his hands under her shoulders, pulled her forward so that she could feel his erection pressing between her legs.  

She wrapped her arms, and then her legs around him and pulled him down to her.

They kissed ravenously, and she began to press her hips against him in a slow grinding rhythm.  He responded in kind, which felt wonderful but which started to make the table, which certainly hadn’t been designed to carry so much weight, begin to creak in an ominous manner.  

They stopped abruptly and Peter stood up.  He reached for her hands and pulled her to her feet in front of him.  

Jane promptly finished undoing his pants and pulled them down to his ankles, followed by his underwear.  She quickly knelt and pulled off his shoes and socks so he could step free.  While she was doing this Peter unbuttoned his shirt and threw it aside, along with his undershirt.

Jane rose to her feet in one smooth motion, managing to stick her tongue out and lick the length of his cock as she did so.  She smiled at him as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him. 

She made her eyes go innocently wide, and said, in mock-distress, “Gee, my panties are awfully wet.  I sure wish somebody would help me take them off.”

Without answering, Peter knelt in front of her and seized the elastic of her panties in his teeth.  He slowly pulled one side as far down as he could, then let go and did the same to the other side.  Then, losing patience, he jerked them the rest of the way down with his hands.

The instant she stepped out of them he was on his feet and pulling her back into the living room.  He stopped in the middle of the rug and knelt down, pulling her down to face him.  Again they kissed, and pressed against each other, and allowed their hands to wander.  

Jane wondered if they were going to make love again, despite their good intentions.  

When he gently pulled her the rest of the way to the floor she thought so, but when he positioned her so that she was lying on her side she wasn’t so sure.  

And when he lay down in the same position but with his cock near her face and his face close to her hips, she thought she understood.

He worked one arm under her hip and, circling her waist with the other, quickly rolled onto his back, so that she was on top of him.  

She felt her legs being gently separated and her hips being positioned, then the first tingling caress of the tip of his tongue.  She curled the fingers of one hand around his cock and raised it so she could use her tongue to just barely tickle the tip.  

She couldn’t believe it: here they were, naked and all tangled together on a complete stranger’s living room floor, their clothes all over the kitchen.  If anyone should come home now they were trapped.  

God, it was so exciting!

His tongue was doing delicious things to her that seemed to travel right up her spine and into her mouth.  She felt as if her tongue was full of electricity.  She couldn’t stand to just tease him anymore.  

She opened her mouth and plunged his cock in as deep as it would go.  She began to paint it with the electricity in her tongue.  She could feel it tingling where her tongue touched his skin; imagined it racing down his cock and into his balls, then up his spine and into his tongue, which gave it back to her...and around again...and again, the electrical charge building and building, faster and faster...  

Oh god, she was going to explode any second. What was that?  Oh god, his thumb: he was sliding his thumb up her...up her ass!  Oh god, sliding it in and out, in and out until she couldn’t stand it any more.

She was coming.  Oh god, she was coming!

She felt herself trying to scream while continuing to stroke his cock with her tongue.  It was as if someone had suddenly increased the voltage by a thousand percent.   Her hips were jerking spasmodically as he continued to probe her with his tongue and thumb.  Her mouth seemed to take on a life of its own, swooping up and down on his cock with incredible speed until she heard him suddenly cry out, and felt him spurting, hot and salty, into her mouth.  

She slowed down, giving him long lascivious strokes with her tongue, while gently caressing and squeezing his balls with one hand, causing him to jolt and squirt a few more times.

When she was sure he was done, and she had swallowed all that he had given her, she slowly eased his cock out of her mouth, giving the tip a final kiss as she did so.  Then she carefully rolled off and, reversing herself, lay down beside him.

But they didn’t allow themselves much time to relax.  Exciting as it had been, neither of them wanted to be there when the woman or her husband came home.  

Quickly they rose and retreated to the kitchen, where they cleaned up, dressed themselves and began to hurry out the door.  Jane suddenly stopped and said, “The cat,” and Peter, smacking his forehead, ran upstairs to open the bedroom door.  

When he returned, Jane was waiting just outside the back door to the garage.  After switching off the light and closing the door behind them they made their way back to the sidewalk.  

Where they almost ran into the woman and her shopping cart.

She eyed them suspiciously.  “What were you doing in my yard?” she demanded.

“Sorry Ma’am,” said Peter quickly.  We were just cutting through from Elm Street.”

And they hurried away, not daring to glance back until they reached the corner.  When they saw that the woman had gone inside, they simply looked at each other, wide-eyed, and went, “Whew!”

As they continued across the street Jane said, “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“I know,” said Peter with a grin, slipping his arm around her waist.  “Did you like it?”

Jane thought for a second and replied, “Yeah...a lot.  I must be crazier than you are.  I couldn’t believe I was taking my clothes off in there...”

“Oh god, when I came in and saw you lying on the table like that I thought it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen...”

Jane looked up at him. “Really?”  He nodded, and she said, softly, “I love doing things like that...for you.”

They stopped and kissed for a moment, in the middle of the sidewalk, and Peter said, “I really love you, you know that?”

Jane smiled at him and said, “You’d better.”
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