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At thirty four, Bob Larson's life was just about as good as it could be. He had a great job, at which he was quite successful. He was in top notch physical condition, better now even than when he was in college when his life was over-controlled by coaches and trainers with "his best interest at heart." He shared his life with his wife, Holly, two years his junior, whom he had met at a tennis meet in college. He had first noticed her on the sidelines as he competed in the second round of a singles tournament. She was sitting directly in his view for each serve, and he found that her beauty made it hard for him to concentrate on his serves. He went on to win the set and match and soon after, was successful in an effort to secure an introduction to the beautiful young woman.
Bob was honest with himself as he concluded this day that while Holly may not be every man's definition of a "trophy wife", she would be considered so by a great many of them. Bob and Holly were married the week after his graduation, and their daughter, Dusty, was born in June of the following year. While it had been their intent for Holly to continue her education, that plan was abandoned in the early weeks of her pregnancy. Following Dusty's birth, Holly decided that it was more important for her to be a stay-at-home mom than it would be to return to college. Bob's success in his career was such that their income level was more than sufficient to allow her to make that choice, and after two weeks with no sex, Bob ultimately agreed with Holly. Holly could be that way. In college, premarital sex was as streaky as a car window in a rainstorm. They might enjoy some form of sex every night for three consecutive weeks and then she would deny him for a month. Like a light switch on the wall, Holly would go from no-sex to an involvement whose intensity mimicked a porn movie; no warning, no warm-up-just flick the switch and go from off to on, and then off again some days later.
Since the birth of Dusty, the matrimonial bed of Bob and Holly had become progressively more conservative. The first to go was anything remotely involving the anus, of either person. Holly had willingly taken part in anal sex, swearing that Bob was her first in that orifice as he had been in every other. Bob enjoyed it immensely, not only for the novelty, but for the comparative tightness of that opening versus his other choices. Following an anesthetic free vaginal delivery, Holly did not return to her "previous form". Although Bob was better endowed than most men that he knew, his girth was still not sufficient to experience much friction when he was inside her. Sometime through the years, the erotic approach to oral sex disappeared as well. No longer was it the lighthearted, "slightly naughty" foreplay that might involve some teasing, anticipation, and revelry; it had digressed to a three minute alternative to intercourse, given solely to appease an angry husband. At thirty four, Bob's sex drive was cruising right along in high gear. Holly's had run out of gas and moved along, powered solely by an occasional wind. Bob tried to explain that he needed relief more than once every ten days, but his explanation fell on deaf ears.
It was shortly after Dusty started school her very first year that Bob began to suspect someone else was sharing the charms of his wife. He had no evidence other than suspicions, but they nagged at him. He noticed, about a year later, that whenever he traveled for business, his wife was never home in the afternoons on the days he was gone. When he was in town, she seldom left the house during the day, but when he was out of town, it appeared that she was seldom home. Two years ago, he realized that there were always fresh sheets on their bed for the night that he returned, yet if he worked locally, the sheets were only changed on Saturday with the rest of the linens. He became certain about six months ago when he returned from a week long road trip. As he unpacked his clothing, he dropped them in the clothes hamper. By error, he dropped in a shirt that had a receipt remaining in its pocket. When he retrieved the shirt from the hamper, a pair of Holly's panties stuck to the shirt. As he removed the paper from the shirt pocket, he realized that the panties were hanging onto the shirt material for no particular reason. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that the crotch of her panties was soaked with fresh cum, and, since he had been gone all week, that it was obviously not his! Since that day, the only thing keeping their marriage together was that Bob Larson cherished his daughter.
It is unfortunate that in the real world, girls don't all enter puberty at the same time and at the same rate. Thirteen years of age can be a brutal period in a girl's life. Some number of her classmates will have started developing as early as nine years old, and by twelve have already reached their third bra cup size. Others will have narrow waists, rounded hips and a dense bush between their legs. Toward the other extreme, some girls will see none of these body changes until they are well into high school. In between, there is a mix of every combination possible with the added variable of the sudden discovery of "make up". Compounding these issues are the boys in their classes, the very same boys who have not even begun experiencing anything like a change in their body. Their only exposure to the subject is a direct result of sitting, bored, through a "Where do Babies Come From" class in the sixth grade, which was just sufficiently informative to make them aware that some girls "have boobs" and some are "flat as a pancake". Someone, somewhere also told these boys that it was important to verbalize to the girls the differences that they had noted in their physiques.
The seventh grade experience for Dusty Larson was probably as bad as any other girl in her class was experiencing, possibly a little worse. While Dusty clearly shared the genes of beauty as her mother, and the athletic prowess of her dad, there had to be more to life than a pretty face and an ability to out hit and out run every boy in her class. If you saw Dusty and Holly together, one look told you that Dusty would be an extremely beautiful girl in a few years, more than extremely beautiful, even. And if you were so lucky as to observe her play on a tennis court, you knew that she would be the prettiest girl to play Centre Court at Wimbledon since Chrissie Evert, years ago. But today, those were things that would only happen in the future. Today, Dusty Larson had a friendly face with a warm smile, and that's about it. Oh, and a penchant for snow skiing in the winter.
This is exactly what Dusty and her best friend Julie Simons had been doing in the mountains of Idaho for the past seven days. It had been a challenge to even arrange such a trip, especially over the Christmas break from school. Two thirteen year old girls, unescorted, skiing for a week in the mountains. That was a challenge to arrange. Only because Bob Larson was personally acquainted with the Chalet manager was there even a chance that it could happen. The problems originated after Julie's mother became ill and could not possibly make the trip. Holly, healthy as ever, could not be convinced to break away from her previous social commitments during this critical Holiday season. A compromise was achieved when Julie's dad, Eric, agreed to drive the two girls to the ski resort, assist them in getting registered and checked into their room, and introduce them to Bob's friend. On clear roads on a good day, it was at least an eight hour drive from their home to the resort which meant a very early morning departure time would mean an arrival at the resort about mid day. Bob agreed that he would do the drive at the end of the week since he would be out of town on the day that they departed.
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