Cherry (chapter 5) free porn video

The last 24 hours were mostly spent with the Love of my life and I was in an amazing place emotionally. At the same time, I was still troubled about the loss of Katie. My thoughts alternated at random between the two as I drifted off to sleep.

I found myself walking along an all too familiar road. Up ahead stood a girl facing away from me and I knew who she was before I got to her; she wore a yellow sundress. As I reached her, I stopped next to Katie.

Without needing to look at her I said, “Hello, Katie.”
I could sense her look up to me and she said, “Oh; hello David.”
We stood before “the intersection” and I said, “Why are you here? Wouldn’t you rather be somewhere else?”
Katie took my hand and said, “Yeah. I don’t like it here. This needs to be different; it looks scary this way.”

I looked down to see her face and she looked up at me again. For the first time, her eyes looked normal to me. They were deep brown like her hair that was blowing lazily in the breeze. Seeing her eyes with life behind them for the first time gave me an anew sense of the tragic loss.

I looked back at the intersection and agreed, “It is scary; you’re right. And it definitely needs to be different.”
Katie asked me, “Can you do it? Make it different?”
I shook my head saying, “No; that’s not what I do. Remember? I’m just a fireman.”
Katie said, “I remember.” After a few moments she asked, “Do you know someone that knows how to make roads different?”
I thought for a moment and said, “I might be able to find someone.”
“You should try,” she suggested.
I said, “I’m going to find someone to fix this; I promise.”

Katie hugged my arm and moments later, she was gone. I woke up to see it was still the middle of the night. Not wanting to forget the dream before morning, I wrote notes to myself and went back to sleep.

I had another dream, but this time it was about Cherry—and much more pleasant. The dreamed focused around the possible pregnancy we were facing together, but there was never a moment that said definitively that she was either positive or negative—just as the results were to be revealed to us, something would happen to stop us from getting the information we sought.

Unable to sleep in (even though it was a Saturday), I got up early and went straight to my computer. After a brief search online, I found that, as luck would have it, there would be a town hall meeting next Wednesday. I would be there: I had a mission.

I got dressed (still without having a shower), grabbed my HD camera, and went for a drive. I was going to “the intersection”, but this time it wasn’t about my work—it was about my mission and the promise I made to a little girl in my dreams. I parked my car on the side of the road and got out before getting to work. I started taking pictures of the intersection from every angle imaginable; pictures approaching the intersection from both roads and both directions; pictures at the intersection showing blind spots and possible optical illusions that could cause a driver to miscalculate the speed or distance of a vehicle.

When I was satisfied that I had enough photos to document the intersection, I went home and got back on the computer. I did a satellite search and found the view of the area from directly above. I saved the image to disk and took it with me to have a large print made.

With the collected materials in hand, I began putting together a presentation of the problem; it was so easy even I was able to do it! It infuriated me that no one else had done this before now. It occurred to me that perhaps they knew it was a problem but just didn’t know what to do about it (or worse, didn’t care).

Knowing that it did little good to simply point out a problem and have no solution to offer, I began trying to work out how to fix the intersection. By no stretch of the imagination was I a civil engineer and the solution was evading me. Putting in an overpass only served to move the problem further up the road. There was already a light there and it was clear that was not enough. Signs did little or nothing to alert drivers not paying attention.

My project was beginning to frustrate me when my phone rang. It was Cherry calling to FaceTime with me. I took the call (of course) and she was still lying in bed.

I said, “Well, good morning sleepy head! You know it’s 12:30, right?”
Through a yawn she answered, “Yeah, I know. The game tired me out last night; my legs are sore—but in a good way.”
I smiled at her coded message and said, “I know what you mean: I had a good workout yesterday, too.”
As she got out of bed she asked, “What are you doing?”

I told her about my day to that point and how I was at a loss for a way to fix the issue. While I talked, I could see Cherry as she went about her business in her room and she took me with her into the bathroom. Without a bit of embarrassment, she sat on the toilet and peed. She wasn’t showing the graphic details of it; all I could see was her face and the picture over the toilet in the background as she listened to me, but I knew what she was doing. She finished and set her phone down giving me an excellent view of the ceiling for a few moments before I heard a flush and then running water.

She came back to the phone and her hair was piled up in a bun on top of her head. She walked over to the tub and the sound of running water became louder. She propped the phone up on a shelf near the tub and I could see her sitting on the side of it as she added bubble bath to the running water.

I finished telling her about my project and how I was stuck at the moment and she offered, “Sometimes when you get to a point like that, you have to just stop and step back from it for a while. Think about something else and come back to it with a clear mind.”
I conceded, “Yeah. You might be right.”

I could just make out Cherry’s Mom yelling something to her when she relied yelling, “OK!” Her Mom said something else and Cherry said, “No thanks; I’m fine!”

Before I could ask what that was about, she informed me that her Mom was going to the store for groceries. Before I could finish the thought about going to see her while her Mom was gone, Cherry said, “Don’t even think about it: she won’t be gone long enough—unfortunately.”

Cherry was still sitting on the side of the tub and testing the temperature of the water. I was only able to see from her knees to the top of her mid-drift. She was wearing a pair of loose-fitting shorts that were cut from a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. Cherry made an adjustment to the hot water valve before pulling the t-shirt over her head. I could see the very bottom of her amazing tits and found myself tilting my phone in attempt to see more. She stood up and all I could see was the very bottom of her self-made shorts before she pushed them down to her feet, giving me a brief look at her breasts, before stepping out of the shorts. She stepped into the tub and sank down into the bubbles, finally coming face to face with me on the screen.

I watched as she quietly luxuriated in her bubble bath. There were enough bubbles to hide her breasts from view, but not her shoulders and upper chest. However, I was really just focused on her face; she wore no makeup and she was still stunning. The hair hastily piled on top of her head was just as sexy (perhaps because of the setting) than if she had spent an hour fixing it.

Cherry sang a sweet song; replacing the words with various sounds like ‘la’, ‘de’, ‘dum’, and etcetera. Her singing voice was like that of an angel and I was not surprised. She would periodically took over at me on her phone and give a mildly amused smile—probably due to the stupid look on my face.

I continued to watch as she reached for something out of frame. She leaned back and one leg rose above the bubbles—toes pointed. The item she had grabbed turned out to be a lady’s razor and she began gliding it along her silky skin. I had been with her just over 12 hours ago and they were like silk then; I guessed she shaved them regardless of need. She continued to sing while finishing her legs. Once she completed the task, she bent her knees up and leaned forward into them; wrapping her arms around her legs while we continued to talk.

We talked about anything that happened to come to mind. Neither of us was afraid to broach a subject; if we thought about it, we brought it up without hesitation or worry due to possible reactions. We discussed everything from when we might get to see each other again to where we saw our relationship going; from what we were going to do if she was pregnant to how many kids we thought we would want to have.

Cherry leaned forward again, but this time she flipped the lever to drain the water from her bubble bath.

I asked, “No more bubble bath?”
She answered with a smile, “You can’t have a bubble bath without bubbles. See? They are all gone.”

She picked up the phone and gave me a view from higher up; looking down at her in the tub. Just as she had said: there was nothing in the tub but clear water and an incredibly sexy, naked young lady.

Suddenly, Cherry gasped in faux shock and she used her free arm to try and cover her exposed body while saying, “How dare you look in upon me while I’m bathing!” She put on an over-exaggerated southern belle accent that seemed to come straight out of a western movie from the 1940’s.
Picking up on her joke, I adapted my own cowboy accent and said, “Terribly sorry Ma’am. I didn’t recon there was no one in here.”
She was still holding the phone in the same position when she said in the same voice, “Well look away you cad!”
I said, “I’m powerful sorry, Miss, but if you ain’t just the pertiest thing I ever did see—I…caint…look away!”

The last line had her laughing and she dropped character, securing me the ‘win’ for our little game. She stood up and reached for her towel to dry off. The phone was propped up again and I could see almost all of her bathroom. She dried off as casually as if no one was watching and hung the towel to dry. Once again she sat on her vanity stool, applied lotion to her legs, and I found myself wishing I was there to do it for her—still able to sense the fragrance of it. Besides, I was much more thorough when it came to massaging it into her skin! Cherry turned to face her mirror, let down her hair, and began brushing it out in long, slow strokes.

In a very nonchalant tone, Cherry asked me, “What were you doing a week ago at this time?”
I said, “One week ago at this time? Easy: I was with you at the mall.” I looked at the clock to get the exact time and said, “At this precise time, we had finished lunch and were still talking in the food court.”
Seeing an opportunity to challenge me, she asked, “What was I wearing?”
I said matter-of-fact, “Black yoga shorts and a tank top; that was easy.”
Her eyes narrowed and she asked, “Yeah, but what did I have for lunch?”
I said, “Oh, give me a break! How am I supposed to remember that you had a spinach salad topped with char grilled chicken and balsamic vinaigrette? Next you’ll expect me to remember that you like an orange wedge in your water instead of lemon!”
Cherry’s mouth hung open for a moment in surprise. “You, Mr. Mann, have impressed me! For your attention to detail, you shall be handsomely rewarded!”
“Really? What is my reward?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise so don’t ask!”
I said, “Can I ask WHEN I will get it?”
She teased, “No-you-can’t!”
I sighed in ‘disappointment’ and said, “Ok; fine…”

Cherry stood and only then did I remember that she was still as naked as the day she was born. She took me with her to her closet and turned the phone around to show me her clothes. She first opened a drawer that had all of her panties and even some lingerie. She was digging through the unfolded, unorganized collection of intimates while whispering ‘what to wear, what to wear?’ Something caught my eye.

“Oh, what was that—the red thing?”
She dug around and asked, “This?”
I said, “No, there was something else, go back!”
She dug around again and found the item, “This??”
“Yeah!”
“It’s a garter belt,” she answered.
I said, “Oh, that is HOT,” and she pulled it out of the drawer before grabbing the thigh-high stockings that matched them.
“Ok, now I need panties. Help me find panties.”

She was digging through the drawer when I barely caught sight of the perfect pair. “There! The little red pair!”
She questioned me holding the very sheer, G-string panties up, “THESE?!”
I said, “OH YEAH!”
She said, “I had these when I was like 12! They are too small!”
I said, “I’ll bet they still fit! They are perfect…”
Cherry said, “Well, there’s only one bra that will go with this…”

She pulled out the next drawer and retrieved a red bra that was almost as sheer as the panties before she began getting dressed. She faced away from me as she stepped into the tiny panties—they looked like they would be small for a Barbie doll.

As the string disappeared between the cheeks of her perfect ass and the side strings were pulled up over her hips, she leaned forward to look at the little patch over her crotch and said, “Oh, these are so naughty!”

She turned to the side, denying me a view from the front, to sit on her stool and she slowly slid her stockings on while trying to pay no attention to me watching her. With both stockings on, she stood again (still facing away from me) and she put her garter belt on; attaching the four elastic suspenders to the tops of her stockings. She was the sexiest woman I could imagine!

She put on her bra and asked, “Are you ready to see?”
I had to swallow hard before I could say, “Yeah; I’m ready!”

Cherry turned slowly, struck a model’s pose, and I nearly came in my pants. Fortunately I had the presence of mind to take a screen capture! And, a part of me wished I would go blind at that very moment so that would be the image forever burned into my brain! The red lingerie complemented her hair perfectly and her green eyes seemed to grow in intensity. But I would be lying if I didn’t admit that her panties were drawing my attention like a hypnotist’s pocket watch. The tiny patch did almost nothing to cover her. Not one part of the fabric was opaque, leaving all of her parts clearly visible. As they passed her clitoris, they pressed immediately between her vaginal lips and vanished; giving her a major ‘camel toe’. Cherry tried to pull them up a little to try and get them to cover more of what little pubic hair she kept, but they weren’t moving very much.

It pained me to say it, but I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable, so I said, “Those panties are really hot on you, but they look like they don’t feel very good. How about a different pair?”
Cherry said, “Actually, they are quite comfy! The fabric is really soft and they feel so naughty; I can feel every move I make. They feel better now than they did years ago!”
“Really?” I asked amazed.
She just nodded and said, “I’m going to wear these all day; these are my panties for the day!”

Cherry went back to her closet to pick out what else she would wear for the day and she decided that she would put on a basic pair of jeans and an over-sized sweat shirt (with no additional t-shirt) over the selected underwear. A pair of socks would keep her Mom from noticing that she had stockings on her feet. When she was done getting dressed, it was impossible to see the sexy lingerie she wore underneath the average outfit.

Just then, Cherry’s Mom returned from grocery shopping and she had to go and help bring the bags inside. We each said, ‘I love you’, and ended the FaceTime call. She would tell me later about her Mom’s reaction to her outfit for the day.

Her Mom took one look at her and asked, “To what do we owe this to?”
Not understanding, Cherry asked, “What?”
Her Mom said, “The way you’re dressed?”
Cherry looked at herself and asked, “What’s wrong with this?”
Her Mom answered, “Nothing. It’s just for once you aren’t wearing anything that is skin-tight, too revealing, or slutty. I was just wondering why.”
Cherry said, “I’m grounded: it’s not like I’m going anywhere or any of my friends are going to see me… HEY! I’m not a slut!”
“I didn’t say you were. Just some of the things you like to wear—sometimes—are a little slutty.”
Cherry said, “I just felt like being comfy today. That’s all.”

Her Mom accepted the explanation, completely oblivious to what Cherry wore underneath.

Meanwhile, I had gone back to my project of finding a solution to the dangerous intersection. The transition of getting back to work was a gradual one; I was having a difficult time putting the conversations, bubble bath and fashion shows behind me. But I told myself that any guy with a pulse would be having the same problem.

Looking over the multiple pictures and notes I’d made about my observations, I thought back to what Cherry said when I told her of the dead-end I was running into. She said that you just had to ‘stop and step back from it’ sometimes. Her words (especially the ‘step back’ part) echoed in my head and I had a sudden thought: the problem wasn’t AT the intersection; it was the stretch of interstate that seamlessly transitioned into local roads with nothing more than road signs to warn about the transition. That meant the REAL problem was at least ¾ of a mile before the intersection. I thought if there was a way to make sure that ALL drivers were completely aware of what lay ahead, the problem would be solved. I asked myself, ‘how do you get someone to know that there is a stop on what appears to be an interstate? Almost as soon as I asked the question, I had the answer. It was so unbelievably stupid and simple that I had difficulty in believing it might work. The solution in simplest terms was a toll booth. The lanes could be divided with guard rails and heavy plastic poles leading up to the rails: an unaware driver would notice hitting the poles and the only thing to be hurt is a front bumper and maybe a headlight. He would regain control before reaching the guard rails and another disaster would be averted. Throw in some ‘rumple strips’ for good measure and maybe even a modest speed bump 50 yards from the intersection and there would never be another “Katie tragedy” at this intersection again!

I went into overdrive to put the presentation together; it had to be ready before the town hall meeting on Wednesday! I knew that exact distances for placement of the various elements to the concept would have to be calculated by an actual engineer, so I didn’t worry about those things too much. Instead I just focused on making it look neatly organized, well thought out, and most importantly, fool-proof and too safe to say ‘no’.

Reaching a good stopping point for the night, I cleaned up a bit and realized I was starting to feel sick. As I was trying to figure out why, it dawned on me that I had not eaten a thing all day. I went to the fridge and raided it like a bear in a camper’s cooler. With my stomach full, I finally noticed that a new level of funk was emanating from me; it was time to get a shower.

The phone rang with a FaceTime call just as I was about to step into the shower. Knowing it was Cherry, I answered it.

Cherry took one look at me and teasingly said, “Oh, you dirty-dirty man! Are you just walking around like that?”
I said, “Very funny; I was just getting in the shower. How was your day?”
She said, “It was pretty good. I got some good news!”
Thinking I might know what it was I asked, “Did you get your period?”
“No, not yet; that’s not it…”
“Oh. What’s the good news, then?” I asked.
She said, “The warden is reducing my sentence by half; I’m off of being grounded after school Monday!”
A bit surprised I said, “Oh, ok. That is good news! Maybe we can get together for that cup of coffee you agreed to having with me?”
Confused, Cherry asked, “What? What cup of coffee?”
I explained, “At the game; you said you’d meet me for coffee so we could get to know each other more.”
She smiled and said, “Right—THAT cup of coffee. I’m going to have to say: ‘we’ll see’. I have practice Monday after school and I’ll let you guess who is taking me home… But we’ll do that soon. Ok?”
I understood and said, “For you: I will wait.”

Without warning, Cherry pulled her sweat shirt over her head and discarded it on the floor. She was still wearing the sheer red bra from that morning. She propped the phone up again in the bathroom and I could see her red garter belt above the belt line of her jeans. After popping the button open and pushing the zipper down, she splayed the fly open as wide as she could and I could not see any sign of the tiny panties she put on that morning. For a moment I wondered if she had opted to take them off and go ‘commando’, but as she slipped the denim garment down, the side strings came into view; leading the way to the tiny triangle of clear, red fabric. The jeans came off and Cherry looked like she just jumped off the pages of a Playboy magazine (not that the magazine had ever featured anyone as beautiful as my Cherry…)!

I said, “You are simply stunning. I can’t believe you are still wearing those…”
She said, “I told you: they feel good. They had me thinking about you with every move I made—all day.”
“I think about you all day, too—and I wear boxers!”

Cherry puckered her lips at me and released the garter’s suspender straps from the tops of her thigh-high stockings before hooking her fingers under the side strings to the panties and working them down. Once they were off, she stood and I could easily see an imprint of where they sat on her—even her mons had a triangle pressed into it. She sat on her vanity stool, slid her stockings off and stood; naked and ready to get in the shower.

We ended the call and took our showers; separate, but together in spirit. I texted her when I got out of the shower, but not surprisingly, she took a little longer. Almost as soon as she got out, she called to continue our FaceTime conversation. She was wrapped in towels; one wrapped around her at chest level—the second swirled on top of her head to dry her hair.

As we talked, Cherry went about her nighttime beauty routine in preparation for bed. As she finished, she looked at her phone screen to see me in my boxers and a t-shirt and made a disappointed face.

She said, “I thought maybe you would wear the same thing to bed that I’m going to wear…”
My first thought was of one of her pairs of panties hanging on my bed and that was a strange thought to me. I said, “I don’t think either pair of you panties here would fit me, for one thing. And for another, that’s a little weird, don’t you think?”
Cherry looked at me like I just said the dumbest thing she’d ever heard in her life and said, “You really are crazy. You know that, right? I wasn’t talking about that; I was talking about this…”

Cherry pulled her towel off to one side and held it up and away from her completely bare body. Seeing her like that never got old. It had long since become pointless to look at online porn: there was nothing there that did for me what Cherry could do. I couldn’t even remember when I last looked at porn or even what sites I used to surf. Without a word, I stripped out of my t-shirt and before it cleared my head she was pulling her hair out of the second towel. I removed my boxers and we were both naked. And even though she was about 45 minutes away from me, there was a connection to her, just knowing that we were doing this together. We went to bed and simply talked until one of us fell asleep; neither of us knew which one was the first to pass out.

The next morning I saw that the call had become disconnected so I tried to call her back. When the phone call went straight to voice mail, I figured the call had ended because her phone died—she was occasionally bad about charging her phone. But that was probably for the better since I still had some work to do on my project; mostly finishing touches and getting an outline of what I needed to say so I wouldn’t get up there and start stammering for words.

I had finished the outline and was going over what I was going to say in my head when Cherry finally called to say ‘good morning’ (even though it was almost noon). I made fun of her for being ‘lazy’ on the weekends, but truth be told, I was the same way when I was in school. I confessed to my own weekend schedule at her age and ‘let her off the hook’ easy.

Changing the subject Cherry said, “So, my period is due any time now. It is supposed to be here either today or tomorrow.”
I said, “Yeah, I was thinking about that earlier. Obviously it hasn’t happened yet…”
“No; nothing yet,” she answered to my non-question.
I said, “Either way, I’m not worried: it’s going to be what it’s going to be. We’ll figure it out together, ok?”
She said, “Yeah, I know; I’m not worried either. Maybe about some things, but not about having it. You know?”

I told her that I understood and that we were on the same page. For me, there was no point in getting stressed about something that was too late to change. Besides, I wasn’t sure about which outcome I would prefer—part of me said that I hoped she wasn’t pregnant, while the other part said it would be great if she was. As that thought was finishing, another completed before I realized it started: it would be great because I already knew I wanted to be with her forever—she was my ‘one’.

That thought stopped me dead in my tracks. How could I be so sure about her after such a relatively short time? I couldn’t answer that question other than to say, ‘because I AM SURE’. Before I even got off the phone with Cherry, I began looking online at rings for her. I wasn’t planning on going right out and buying an engagement ring right away: even though I was sure, it was still far too soon in the relationship for that. The reason I started looking was because I needed to get an idea of how much I was going to need to save in order to make such a purchase.

It didn’t take long for me to get the answer—a lot more than what I currently had in the bank! So, I set up a separate savings fund and directed a portion of my pay check to go into it automatically. To help the account grow a little faster, I started saving every penny I could in a jar and depositing my collection once a week in my ‘ring fund’. I was astonished to learn I had been blowing an average of $25 a week in change and small bills!

The next two days seemed to pass in slow-motion. Between Cherry’s Mom picking her up from practice and getting ready for my presentation, we were not able to get together on the sly as we’d hoped we could; even though she was no longer grounded.

Monday came and went without Cherry having her period—she was officially late. She asked her squad leader and best friend, Olivia, to get her a pregnancy tester from the drug store; Olivia was NOT pleased (but as a true friend, bought the test kit for her). Late Monday night, Cherry called me to give me the news about her no-show monthly visitor and that she wanted me on the phone when she took the test.

She read the directions quietly to me and went through the steps as prescribed. Several minutes filled with mixed emotions later, Cherry read the stick to me.

“According to this,” she said, “I’m not going to have a baby. I don’t get it: if I’m not, why haven’t I had my period yet?”
I said, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s wrong. Or, maybe you are just really late. Did the kit come with two?”
She said, “Yeah. Should I try the other one?”
I said, “No; not right now. Take it in the morning. Sometimes the first one of the morning is more accurate.”
Cherry said, “Ok: I’ll call you at 6:00, then?”
I said, “I’ll be up!”

I didn’t sleep much that night; a wide range of thoughts swam through my head, keeping me confused about what I really wanted to hear in the morning. I was out of bed by 5:30 and wanted to call her. But I refrained in case she was sleeping. It was 6:02 when my phone finally rang.

I answered the phone saying, “God morning! I thought you’d never call!”
She laughed and said, “Very funny… I have good news and I have bad news: which do you want first?”
I said, “I like to be optimistic: good news first…”
Cherry said, “The good news is there’s no need to take the test this morning. I got my period last night—I’m not pregnant.”
A bit surprised (at that being the good news) I said, “Oh! Ok. That is good news, I guess. What’s the bad news?”
She said, “The bad news is I’m not pregnant.”
I laughed slightly and said, “AWWW, Babe… Don’t worry: there’s plenty of time for that down the road. Now would have been bad timing for you anyway. Remember?”
Sounding a mix of sad and reflective, she said, “I know. But still…”
I asked, “What do you propose? Should we now try and MAKE SURE you get pregnant?!”
Cherry nearly gasped and said, “Oh god no! I mean: I don’t want to do that on purpose right now! It just would have been kind of nice if it had happened. That doesn’t make sense, I know. It’s complicated!”
“No: it’s not complicated,” I said, “I get it—I really do.”
Switching the subject, Cherry said, “I want to see you so bad, but today is going to be like yesterday. Tomorrow might work, though. What time is your ‘thing’?”

I said the ‘thing’ was scheduled for mid morning and I was sure I’d be out of there well in time to make it to see her practice, so we made plans accordingly before she had to go and get ready for school.

That day was spent going over notes and fine-tuning what I needed to say at the meeting. The speech was more-or-less memorized and I wondered how much of it would actually happen the way I envisioned it going down. I tried to imagine what questions they might have and tried to come up with all the answers to them. And even though this was extremely important to me (and the community, in my opinion), I was not stressed about it. It was like I had found a center balance within me and I was able to keep calm and focused.

That night after her cheerleading practice, we texted and chatted for a while, but Cherry insisted that we call it a night by 10:00; she knew the importance of the following day and wanted to make sure I was rested and thinking clearly for it.

The day of the town hall meeting came and it felt like I had been waiting for years for that day. I was at least thirty minutes early and wearing my fireman’s dress uniform; the thought was that maybe showing my public service would give me some latitude if I inadvertently broke some political protocol or policy. As it turned out, that was not really necessary since town hall meetings were less formal than I had imagined them to be.

There were a few dozen local residents attending the meeting, each with their own particular issue they wanted to have addressed. Most issues seemed to be a bit ‘self-serving’ to me: one woman wanted the speed limit lowered on her street so her kids could ride their bikes in the road; another wanted the school bus route changed to stop in front of her home. One by one the ‘issues’ were discussed; few had clear resolutions.

It was getting towards the end of the meeting when I finally got the chance to pitch my idea. Introducing myself as a firefighter from the nearby station 3, I thanked the chairman and the board for their time; the chairman said I had the floor.

I said, “Thank you, sir. The reason I’m here is because of this intersection.” I handed him the photos as I set up my presentation of the problem and continued, “As I’m sure you are aware, there was an accident here a week ago last Sunday. A mother and her young daughter both lost their lives in that accident; I held the little girl’s hand as she died on the way to the hospital. This intersection is dangerous in the way it is laid out and I believe if we don’t do something about it, Katie and her mother will not be the last ones to die here.”

The chairman said, “I understand, Mr. Mann; but we have looked at this intersection before and there really isn’t anything that can be done about it.”
I said, “With all due respect sir, I believe we can fix it—make it much safer than it is at present.”

He began to scan through my ideas and seemed to be thinking the matter through before he said, “I’m afraid it just isn’t in the budget to build this. The cost is…”
I cut him off and said, “The cost, sir? Does it cost more than the life of a seven year old girl—and her mother? What about the costs of all those before them? Exactly how many people have to be hurt or killed here before ‘cost’ is not an issue? I’m sorry: I don’t mean to sound like I’m questioning you. Like I said, I don’t know politics. But if you look closer at my proposal, you will see that there is an option for adding a toll booth. With the volume of traffic that goes through there, I’m sure that even a small toll would not only pay for the construction, but would be a source of income for the city.”
He replied, “Yes, I see that. You can’t just simply put up a toll anywhere you feel like it because there’s a bad intersection.”
I said, “I agree, sir. But this isn’t just a bad intersection. It’s an interstate transitioning into local roads and it is the State’s most dangerous. Just look at the report of serious to fatal accidents here compared to all other similar accidents for the rest of the State. For the last five years in a row, there were twice as many here as there were in the next dangerous intersection. I believe if we build even half of what I’m proposing, this intersection will come off the list by next year! And I’m sure the voters will notice that.”

He seemed to recognize that last line for exactly what it was but let it go. He assured me that he would push the issue forward until some resolution was reached. I wondered for a moment if he was just pacifying me, but then he asked if he could have copies of everything I had presented sent to his office. I told him the copy he had was his to keep and he ended the meeting by thanking ME for MY time.

Leaving the meeting in high spirits, I looked at the time and it was almost time to leave to watch Cherry’s practice. I was beside myself with anticipation; I had not been with her since the Friday before! I went home, changed, and headed for Middletown.

There were still some students leaving the parking lot when I arrived at Cherry’s school. It was about 20 minutes after I parked that she and the other girls gathered in what I assumed was their usual practice spot. Cherry ran up to me and jumped into my arms to give me a big hug. Olivia did not approve. She called Cherry back to the group and whispered something to her under her breath. Cherry just rolled her eyes behind Olivia’s back and waved to me with a wide grin before getting in line to start practice.

Watching her was just as amazing as ever! It was difficult to believe how much spirit poured out of her. The other girls seemed to be trying to just keep up with her energy, and they had a lot, too. Olivia on the other hand, clearly had something on her mind and I was sure I knew what it was. She barely smiled at all and periodically shot me dagger eyes.

Around 45 minutes into the practice, Cherry excused herself to run inside and I assumed she needed a ‘bathroom break’. She motioned to me, using her fingers and thumbs to make a heart over her chest and then pointed at me. She mouthed the words ‘be right back; stay here’ and ran inside. Before Cherry was out of sight, Olivia had the others doing strength building exercises and she gave me a look that seemed to come from Satan himself. It was obvious to me that I would not be seeing her application for membership to my fan club any time soon. Again, I thought I knew why, but I would soon find out that I was not entirely correct about that assumption.

Soon enough, Cherry was back and the girls continued their practice. Olivia seemed to keep them all longer than any of them wanted to stay and it felt like it was purely to keep Cherry away from me. Eventually she had to let the group go and the practice ended. Olivia turned to walk back to the gym and never looked in our direction.

I said, “Wow: Olivia is pretty pissed at me.”
Cherry said, “No, not really. Why do you think that?”
I asked, “Are you kidding me? Did you see the way she’s been looking at me?! If she had actual daggers for eyes, I’d be a bloody murder victim right now! That girl hates me…”
She said, “She doesn’t ‘hate’ you. She’s not happy about me not knowing for a moment if I was pregnant, but she doesn’t ‘hate you’ because of it.”
I asked, “Then what would you call it? What’s her problem with me?”
Cherry explained, “Oh, she’s just jealous. But she’ll get over it; don’t worry.”
I said, “She has nothing to be jealous about: she’s a very pretty girl; captain of the cheerleading squad—I’ll bet she could date just about any guy she wanted at this school.”
She gave a half-laugh and said, “Yeah! That’s not going to happen!”
I was surprised by Cherry’s reaction and said, “Why not? She’s pretty; in nice shape; seems like a loyal friend…is something wrong with her?”
Cherry said, “No; there’s nothing ‘wrong’ with her—she’s just not likely to ever have a boyfriend, that’s all.”
I asked, “Why would you say that?”
Cherry shook her head and sighed before saying, “Because she’s…well…let me put it this way: you know how a person acts when they are jealous of someone else?
I said simply, “Sure.”
Trying to bring it together, she asked, “Who gets the dirty looks?”
I answered, “The person they are jealous of.”
She said, “Right…”
I asked, “Then why am I getting the dirty looks?!”
“Oh my god, REALLY?” Cherry asked. “Because she’s jealous of you! I can’t believe you made me say it…”
Showing how dense I can be and still not getting it, I said, “That doesn’t even make sense: ‘jealous of me’—if she was jealous of me, that would mean that she wanted to be with… Hold on a second! Are you telling me that she’s a—“
Cherry cut me off before I could say the word, “YES! That’s what I’m telling you!”
Stunned, I said, “Oh my god! So Olivia is—“
“YES”
Pointing to Cherry and continuing I said, “And she wants to be with—“
“Yes…”
I remarked, “What a poor, confused girl. I mean: she knows you’re not a lesbian, right?”
She said, “Yeah, she knows… We’re best friends, remember?”
I asked, “So how did she get to where she is? I mean, she knows you are straight, but somehow she has fixated on you? How does that happen?”
Cherry seemed to groan internally and asked, “Are you sure you want to hear this?”
I said, “Yeah, tell me how this happened? I’m really curious.”
She said, “Ok, but first you have to promise not to judge me because it’s sorta my fault.”
I said, “Your fault? How could it be your fault?”

Cherry just stared at me…

Understanding what she was waiting for I said, “OK: I promise not to judge you! That goes without saying from now on, ok?”
She said, “Alright. To explain how this happened, I have to start from the very beginning. Olivia and I have known each other for pretty much our entire lives. We have been best friends since grade school and because we are neighbors, we played together all of the time. We were always having sleepovers together and we told each other everything. It’s what best friends do. You know? And from the time we were really little, when we were having a sleep over, we did everything together; we even took bubble baths together. It was just kid’s stuff; you know how kids are. So, as the years passed, we outgrew bubble baths and it eventually became showers. Again: nothing was ‘going on’; it was just two friends taking a shower and we thought nothing of it at all. Other than helping to scrub each other’s backs, we didn’t even touch each other.”

“So this one time Olivia was sleeping over and we were talking about boys. I used to tease her about liking the wimpiest boys in school…but anyway, there was this boy that I liked and I decided one day that I wanted to let him kiss me and I told Olivia. But I was scared to do it because I didn’t want to be a terrible kisser—I’d never kissed anyone before. I was afraid he would tell his friends that I was an awful kisser and I’d be an outcast. I guess it never dawned on me that he would be bad too or that neither of us would know the difference... Anyway, Olivia said she didn’t want to be bad at kissing either and someone had the bright idea of practicing on a mirror. I tried it first and after she tried it we both agreed that it didn’t work too well. SOOOOO… Olivia suggested that we practice—together. She said that after everything we had done together over the years, the things we could tell each other and no one else, we could try this and it would be our secret. We could learn how to kiss and be really good at it for our first time.”

“And so, that’s what we did. The first kiss was just a quick kiss; it happened so fast we banged our teeth together and it was as bad as we feared it would be with a boy. So we calmed ourselves down and did it again slower. After a few minutes of practicing our kissing, we just kept going and it was nice. It was not at all a sexual experience to either of us—we just wanted to figure out what to do and how to do it. You know?”

I said, “So, you and Olivia kissed once when you were kids and she’s been fixated on you ever since?”
Cherry continued her story saying, “WELLLLL….No. It wasn’t exactly a one-time thing. We kept having sleepovers and she said that she still wasn’t sure she was good enough yet and wanted to practice some more. And I didn’t mind kissing her, so we did. Pretty soon, I forgot all about kissing the boy I liked and just wanted to kiss Olivia. She was and is still my best friend besides you. I love her, but it’s not like how I Love you—with her, it’s not a romantic Love—it’s just…different. It’s like: with her, it’s not about whether she’s a girl or a boy; it’s the connection—the close friendship—we have. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“After this went on for a while, we heard one day that girls who kiss other girls are called ‘lesbians’. Neither of us knew what that word meant. We wanted to know if what we were doing made us lesbians, so she looked it up on the internet and our eyes were opened! She liked what we found; I wasn’t interested. She eventually told me that she was a lesbian and I told her that I was certain that I was straight. She was ok with my choice and I was ok with hers—it changed nothing between us. In fact, it brought us closer together.”

“I can’t even tell you exactly when it happened because it was so gradual, but eventually we weren’t just kissing; we were making out. We weren’t having sex or anything—you know that, though. We always kept our clothes on and there was no mouth action below the neckline, but were getting pretty hot and heavy. ”

I asked Cherry, “So, are you saying you are bi?”
She said, “NO! I’m not BI! I would NEVER do any of what I have done with Olivia with another girl! I know that doesn’t make sense…”
I said, “It makes some sense. So, that’s as far as you guys have gone: fully clothed and making out?”
Cherry said, “WELLLLL….”
I said, “Oh, there’s more…”
She said, “Yeah, a little. Just before I met you, things were…starting to…go further….”
I asked, “What does that mean?”
She said, “This past summer, I was sleeping at her place and their air conditioner broke. It was really hot, even with the fans on. We were making out as usual and she said that it was too hot and she took her t-shirt off. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen her boobs nearly every day of my life so what was the big deal? And the same was true about her seeing mine—and it WAS hot—so I took mine off, too. So, in just our panties, we were back to making out. She was—I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this, but you should know—she was on top of me, but not laying on me; more like hovering over me, you know? And some sweat dripped off of her and landed on my boob. Well, I guess she felt it drip away from her and she looked and saw where it landed and she wiped it off. I guess I was a bit turned on and told her to keep touching me like that. It was the first time anyone had touched me like that and it felt good. I knew no one else had done that to her, so I showed her how it felt. From then on, when we made out, we were topless and playing with the other’s breasts. But that’s as far as it ever went, I swear!”

I shook my head and said, “That’s ok. Don’t worry about it: I’m fine about it. Hell, I’m sitting here with half a boner just hearing about it!”
Cherry punched my arm and said, “You’re a pig!”
I laughed and said, “In my defense, that story is pretty hot. But, just to get this right, you said that all while you two are doing this, you both know that the other is looking to date someone else?”
Cherry said, “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. I mean, she has always known that I’m straight; that I want to get married and have babies with the man of my dreams… And I know she’s a lesbian and wants to fall in love with a girl. And I know that she doesn’t think of me as that girl. We just have this unusual love for each other. We love each other, but we are not IN LOVE. Weird, right?”

I said, “It’s not weird at all.”
She just looked at me in disbelief; her face saying ‘be honest’.
I said, “Ok, maybe it’s a little weird. But it’s also beautiful.”
Cherry sighed, put her head on my shoulder and said, “Yeah, I guess it was.”
Queuing on the word ‘was’, I said, “So now she doesn’t want to continue that intimate part of the relationship since I’m in the picture and that’s why she’s jealous of me.”
Looking at me, she said, “Exactly how crazy are you? Can you just tell me now and get it out of the way?”
I asked, “What?—What did I say?”
She said, “I’m the one that stopped with her, you dope!”
I thought about it for a second and stated more than asked, “Because of me?”
Cherry said, “Yeah, of course. Why else?”

I realized that her reasoning for ending that intimate element of their friendship was because she didn’t want there to be any way someone could say she was ‘cheating’ on me. What struck me as odd was that, with the way she described their relationship, it wouldn’t really bother me if they continued. The relationship between us was solid and we had both said as much without having to actually say the words. So I didn’t feel threatened in any way by Olivia.

I said, “I get why you stopped with her, but you said there was no romance or romantic feelings connected with the intimacy. It was like a ‘friends with a few benefits’ arrangement. Right?”
Not getting my point, she asked, “Yeah?”
I replied, “So what’s the problem?”
“What do you mean?”
I explained, “I mean, the two of you have this life-long relationship established and you are both aware of the emotional boundaries and those boundaries haven’t been breached. So, I really don’t see the problem.”
“Wait,” she said, “are you telling me that you don’t care if I do that again with Olivia?”
Shaking my head, I said, “No, I’m not telling you I don’t care. This is something that involves and concerns you: so of course I care. I’m saying it wouldn’t bother me if you continued.”
Cherry was a little surprised and asked, “Why not?”
I explained, “Honestly, if we had been together for a while before you started doing this with Olivia, I would probably feel differently. Because that would mean you were not getting something you needed from me and sought it with her. But that’s not the case. Instead, there was something you weren’t getting from her, and I’m guessing you found that with me. So now you are getting the intimacy you used to get from her with me. And Olivia is left feeling alone in that respect.”
Cherry said, “So, you think I should start back with her again.”
I said, “I didn’t say that. That is something only you can decide if it is the right thing to do. I do think that Olivia is a true friend to you and I think she needs you. But you have to follow your heart: if you think it is wrong because of what we have, then you should leave things how they are now. Just don’t make your decision based on trying to save my feelings: I know what we have and I trust you completely. You have to ask yourself if you still want to be the one to help her in this way, even though you aren’t necessarily going to be getting the same benefits from it as she is. Does that make sense? ”

She nodded while contemplating my words but did not make a decision immediately. I was glad to see that she was going to give it some serious thought first. To lighten the mood, I made a small joke.

“Besides,” I teased, “Lesbians are hot!”

My joke earned me multiple, justifiable punches to the arm and a few more to my ribs.

Cherry finished punching me before she went back to hugging my arm and huffed, “I am NOT a lesbian!”
“I know…I’m just playing with you, Babe,” I said while wrapping both arms around her.

We sat in silence for a while; Cherry seemed to be carefully weighing her thoughts as we simply enjoyed each other’s company. I was still digesting the new information about her history with Olivia and it was a little shocking to say the least. I thought about everything I said in my initial reaction to the news and saw no reason to second guess my position. Then I realized something and wanted her to confirm my suspicion.

I said, “So, you never dated any one before me—it was always you and Olivia until now.”
She said, “Yeah, that’s true.”
“That means you started out by wanting your first kiss from a boy you liked, and ended up having Olivia as your first kiss.”
She reflected for a moment and said, “I never thought about it that way, but I guess that’s true, too.”
Cherry then asked me, “When do you want me to give you an answer on what I decide to do about her?”
I said, “You don’t owe me an answer about that and I don’t expect one. If you want to tell me, that’s fine with me. And if you would prefer to keep it between you and her, I won’t take that as you keeping secrets from me. It’s all up to you in how you choose to handle your friendship with her—I’ll never ask you what you decided if you don’t tell me.”
She said, “I’m going to tell you. I just don’t know yet what I’m going to decide. Besides, this is something that I’m going to have to talk about with her, too; she has just as much say in what happens, you know? She might not even want to have things go back to how they were between us.”

I told her that was ‘fine’ and we ended the topic. We talked about nothing in particular after that and kept the conversation a bit on the ‘light’ side. It went without saying that finding a private spot to have sex was not a good idea at the time: it was getting late and, more importantly, with her being on her period, sex would make a mess that would be impossible to clean without the use of a bathroom and a change of clothes. Besides those obvious points, I found that being together and NOT having sex seemed to actually build the Love that I felt for her.

The sun was painting the clouds in hues of pink and purple when a voice from behind us interrupted us. Neither of us needed to turn around to know who it was.

“Cherry, we have to go: it’s getting late,” Olivia said.
Cherry looked over her shoulder and asked, “One more minute?”

Olivia began walking away before she said she would be in the car waiting. Cherry thanked me for coming to watch her practice and gave me a kiss. It wasn’t a passion filled kiss; rather, it was a really sweet kiss as if to say ‘thank you for listening, understanding, and being supportive’.

She asked if I would be at the game and I told her that I would be (of course). Before going our separate ways for the evening, we told each other ‘I Love you’ and shared one more lingering kiss.

Just as I was about to park in front of my apartment, Cherry texted me and said she and Olivia were ‘talking’. I knew what that meant; I wasn’t going to disturb them with texting or phone calls. A while later I received a text that said, if I was sure about my position, they were going to try and go back to the relationship they had before I came into the picture. I just texted back ‘I’m sure’. She sent me a string of heart emoji icons followed by faces with puckered lips; I just replied simply, “U 2!”

It gave me half a ‘chubby’ to think my gorgeous girlfriend was probably making out with a very attractive lesbian; what straight guy hasn’t watched at least a half million porn videos with that kind of content?! I knew for Olivia it was just a way of feeling some kind of intimacy when she is otherwise alone and Cherry was just helping as a friend, but the thought was still hot!

I went to bed hoping I’d dream of Cherry and Olivia making out. Instead, I dreamed of Katie. I found her sitting on a swing in a large play ground. She wasn’t swinging as a young girl would normally do; she seemed to be waiting for me. As I sat on the swing next to her, the sounds of children laughing and playing filled the air. Strangely, however, Katie and I were alone. I was looking around to see where their voices were coming from when Katie spoke.

“They aren’t here,” she said stating the obvious.
I said, “You hear them too, though?”
Katie said, “Yeah, I hear them. That’s why I came here: to see if they wanted to play. But it’s like they are here—but NOT here. What do you think that means?”
I shook my head and answered, “I don’t know, sweetie. Maybe it means they aren’t ready for you yet. Or, maybe you aren’t ready for them. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything.”
Katie thought for a moment and said, “It definitely means something. I just don’t know what it is.”
I offered, “Maybe it’s up to you to decide what it means.”
Katie looked at me and asked, “What if I’m wrong about what it means?”
I said, “You won’t be wrong. Sometimes things mean different things to different people and it’s up to each of us to figure it out for ourselves.”
She asked, “Can I think about it for a while?”
“Of course; you can take as long as you need,” I answered.

She nodded slightly and said ‘ok’ before she started to glide back and forth—just a little—on the swing set. The quiet sound of the squeaking chain seemed slowly replace the laughter of the children that could not be seen; their play fading into silence. Neither Katie nor I made mention of the voices leaving as we sat thinking about what it all meant.

After sitting in silence (except for the sound of the chain) for a long time, I could feel it was time for me to leave, but I felt bad about leaving Katie by herself, so I stayed to keep her company.

Katie said, “It’s ok David: I know you have to go.”
I said, “I don’t want to leave you here all by yourself…”
She replied, “I’m not by my self—Mama is here too.”
I nodded and said, “Ok; are you sure?”
Katie smiled at me and said, “Thank you for talking with me, David.”
I smiled back at her and said, “Any time you want to talk, you know where to find me.”

Katie and I said ‘goodbye’ and I started to walk away. Her swinging picked up pace a little and the chain began making a double ‘squeak-squeak’ sound. Ironically, the further I walked, the louder the double squeak became. I slowly drifted into consciousness and the sound of the squeaking chain was replaced by my beeping alarm clock.

I turned the annoying alarm off and began my day. The day was fairly uneventful as per usual: nothing exciting happens when you spend the day doing ‘domestic chores’ around a tiny apartment. And, I knew Cherry wasn’t going to have practice after school, so I couldn’t even look forward to that. I decided to surprise her again like I did the week before and visit her in her room; I’d just have to be careful not to fall asleep this time!

After deciding to go see her that night, time seemed to come to a grinding halt. We texted and talked as much as we could while simultaneously trying to keep it to a minimum to avoid raising suspicions with Cherry’s Mom. Eventually night fell and I found myself in Cherry’s neighborhood around 10:30.

I saw that the light in her room and bathroom were the only lights on in the house, so I was pretty sure her Mom had gone to bed already. I parked down the street as I did before and made my way back to her place, hiding in the bushes in front of her window. Peering into her room, I saw that she must have just finished taking a shower: she had a towel wrapped around her and she stood in front of her mirror while blow-drying her hair. I knew not to knock on the window until she finished because her Mom would hear me before Cherry could. So I patiently waited while admiring the view of her fantastic legs as they disappeared up into the bath towel that just barely covered her ass.

Before Cherry finished drying her hair, I received what, in hind sight, should not have surprised me as much as it did: A naked girl walked out of the bathroom while drying her hair with a towel. I didn’t even realize my mouth was hanging open in shock until drool ran down my chin. She wrapped her hair up in the towel and perched it on top of her head and it was only then that I realized it was (of course) Olivia.

In many ways, Olivia’s body was what I expected it to be: she was in excellent shape, but not quite as tone as Cherry. One thing that did surprise me was her boobs—they were much smaller than I thought they would be. Clearly she wore miracle and push-up bras to make the most of what she had. Despite their small size, they were nicely shaped and seemed to look better on her than the B size cup she passed off.

Cherry turned her hairdryer off and Olivia walked right over to the window in front of me. For a moment I thought she was about to bust me looking at them, but the she kneeled down and picked up something on the floor there. She stood upright as she removed the towel on her head. She was literally inches away from me; separated only by a pane of glass and a sheer curtain. Only the darkness outside and the light in the room kept her from being able to see me. I could clearly see almost every detail of her body—given enough time, I could have counted the bumps on her areolas and it was readily apparent that there was not a single hair to be found ‘south of the boarder’. Olivia pulled an over-sized t-shirt over her head that came down to about mid-thigh.

For a moment, I wondered if anyone would call the cops on whoever it was banging on that drum so late at night; then I realized it was the sound of my heart thumping. I knew on some level of subconscious that my position would be impossible to explain away if I got caught. But at the same time, I couldn’t look away.

Cherry was walking back into the bathroom as she dropped her towel; giving me a brief view of her ass before she disappeared. Olivia turned around and walked away from the window, allowing my heart to slow down to a more normal rate. She began brushing her damp hair out and, before long, Cherry came back into the room wearing a pair of ‘boy short’ panties and nothing more. She sat on her bed and offered to finish brushing Olivia’s hair for her.

Olivia accepted the offer and the two sat on the bed, both facing me. Olivia sat with her legs crossed and her shirt was pulled tight to cover her otherwise naked butt. From the angle she was sitting, I once again had a clear view of her vagina and even more of it this time. Olivia clearly preferred to wax: she didn’t even have stubble—she was as bare as the day she was born!

Cherry took her time combing Olivia’s hair and the two of them talked about their arrangement and discussed how to handle any ‘issues’ that might come up. Olivia was still shocked that I was fine with their relationship continuing and that led into Cherry telling her how “wonderful” I had been. It was nice to hear her singing my praises when she didn’t even know I was there to hear it. They spoke softly and quietly.

Olivia asked out of the blue, “What’s it like?”
Cherry responded with her own question, “What is what like?”
Olivia elaborated, “Being in love. You are in love with him; I can tell. What’s it like?”
Cherry smiled and shrugged with one shoulder, “It’s like nothing you can imagine. It’s like falling in complete darkness where there is no ground to land on; you just keep falling and tumbling out of control. But the fall is without fear because there is no place you’d rathe