This story involves a guy who ends up having sex with four girls from the 
same family and their mother, though it is spaced out over many years. The 
only young sex involves two kids over the age 18. If that's not your thing, 
take a look at some of my other stuff at www.asstr.org/~Secret_DC_Guy. If 
you are still with me I hope you enjoy it and would love to hear feedback at 
secretdcguy@hotmail.com. 

The One I Didn't Want
By: Secret DC Guy
(mf, MF, rom, preg)
      
      I was minding my own business in a Philadelphia coffeehouse. During 
weekdays it was a quiet place, so it was perfect for my writing. I'd 
progressed from being a self-absorbed teenager to writing legitimate fiction, 
and I had something due to my editor the next week. But unlike all of the 
stories when the author was rushing to finish something at the last minute, 
a few hours ago I had finished to the point of satisfaction. However, I 
believe it was bad luck to send something out immediately after I finished 
even if I was done editing and proofreading. So to let the time pass, I had 
come down to the coffee shop to sit in the quiet and bask in the glory of 
another finished work.
      
      I was drinking a cappuccino wondering when the coffee world had 
passed me by and everyone had switched to lattes when I heard a voice say, 
"Davey Parker, is that you?" I turned to the side and looked up at a young 
redheaded woman. She wasn't particularly well endowed, really pretty 
skinny. She wasn't particularly tall either, but not short. Essentially, for a 
redhead she was rather unremarkable, except for one thing deep blue 
penetrating eyes, eyes that somehow looked familiar. When I acknowledged 
her, a mischievous smile came to her face.
      
      What was even stranger was the way she addressed me. At this point 
in my career I was used to the occasional fan recognizing me in public. But 
as I wrote under the name 'David Parker', that's how people normally 
addressed me. Davey wasn't a name that I'd used since childhood. When I 
left home for college I decided I needed something more adult. "Yes, I am 
David Parker," I said, "and I'm not one of those authors who is going to 
autograph a napkin for you then send you on your way. Feel free to sit 
down. If you're wondering about the next book, I just finished the second to 
last chapter." I was proud of myself, as once again I proved to be the 
approachable author.
      
      "Sorry, Davey. I actually think your writing kinda sucks. I think you're 
too sentimental and too literary. On one hand, your writing bores me to 
tears. On the other hand, I get pissed off that you don't write about our 
hometown. There are some really good stories you could tell about the 
screwed up people there. Don't get me wrong though, I've read everything 
you've ever written," she said with a smile on her face. After giggling a little 
she continued, "But really, I'm very proud of you. I was always rooting for 
you and always hoped you would do great things. I never wished anything 
but the best for you."
      
      My pride smarted from the smack down, but on the other hand, I was 
confused. This was apparently somebody I knew from the past but I wasn't 
sure who. In some ways she spoke to me and acted like an ex-girlfriend with 
the whole thing about always wishing the best for me. I got plenty of letters 
from exes like that, some even with inappropriate pictures and phone 
numbers. That kind of thing always made me uncomfortable. But this did 
even more so, as I never dated a redhead. Even among the various one 
night stands I had in college, their hair was either blonde or brown, or 
occasionally gray, but never red.
      
      "I feel like I know you," I said motioning for her to sit on a chair across 
from the sofa I was relaxing on, "but for some reason I just can't place you."
      
      Instead of sitting in the chair, the redheaded woman sat facing me on 
the other side of the couch one leg folded underneath and one elbow on the 
back. With a self-satisfied but still friendly smile she said, "That figures, 
Davey. I was always the one you never wanted."
      
      Then it hit me. "Little Kristin Davis!" I exclaimed.
      
      "The one and only," the woman saying as she leaned over and gave 
me a hug.

*               *               *
      
      When I was 18 years old there was nothing I hated more than little 
kids. I was an only child and had absolutely no desire to know anyone 
younger than me. I insisted that all of my friends with younger siblings come 
to my house when we were going to hang out and I adamantly refused to go 
visit my younger cousins. So it showed how much I liked Tina Davis that I 
was actually willing to go to her house.
      
      She wasn't really my girlfriend since I knew we were both going away 
to college at the end of the summer. We had not known each other 
beforehand because I lived down in the Valley, while she lived way out in the 
country. We had met on Memorial Day just before I graduated from high 
school. My girlfriend had ditched me to go to a party with some of her 
friends, so I went with two of my buddies to the fireworks in one of the other 
towns. Those buddies were dating two girls from out in the country, who in 
turn had invited a friend whose boyfriend had also ditched her for the 
evening. 
      
      Tina didn't look remarkable. However, as we talked we realized it 
would be fun to hang out for the rest of the summer. But as is typical for 
teenage relationships, the feelings got pretty intense pretty quickly. After a 
few meetings about halfway between where we lived, I agreed to come out 
and visit her at her parents' house.
      
      Things looked promising as I drove up the dusty driveway. The house 
wasn't too big, but I saw a nice sized patio on the side and an above ground 
swimming pool further out.  The next thing I saw was Tina sitting on the 
steps wearing a T-shirt and cutoff jeans. I don't know for how long but 
apparently she had been waiting for me. She held back on the steps as I 
pulled up, and a very attractive middle-aged woman came to the door. She 
looked like I pictured Tina would look in 20 years.
      
      I got out of the car and casually strolled over to Tina. For some reason 
I felt like I couldn't look too anxious in front of the woman I figured was her 
mother. When I got to her, Tina gave me a big kiss. Her mother made a joke 
about us having to watch ourselves, and then invited me into the house. As 
Tina and her mother led me to the kitchen, I noticed that the house was 
decorated in 'country kitsch'. The furniture seemed old and there were little 
collectibles and trinkets all about. The kitchen was pretty standard, though 
definitely 1970s vintage.
      
      As I sat enjoying the cold glass of lemonade with Tina and her mother, 
I heard splashing. Seeing that I noticed the noise, Tina told me that it was 
her sisters out in the pool. At that point I realized I really didn't know 
anything about her family. So I asked. Her mother, Beth, was receptionist at 
a local auto supply parts warehouse. Her father, who wasn't home, was 
Merchant Marine. He was at sea for most of the year, and even when he was 
in port he didn't always find time to come home. He did send money though, 
which when combined with her mother's salary allowed them to live a 
comfortable life.
      
      Just as Tina was about to tell me about her sisters, I heard the back 
door open and two girls come in. The older one introduced herself as 
Melanie. She was 16, and looked like a younger blonde version of Tina. 
Again, she didn't look remarkable, but there was something appealing about 
her-just like there was with her sister and her mother.
      
      Before she introduced her other sister, a little redheaded girl who 
looked quite different than the others came over and jumped onto my lap. 
As I felt her cold wet bathing suit dampening my shorts, she gave me a big 
hug and told me her name was Kristin. She said she was 11 years old and 
too young to have a boyfriend. But when she was older I could take her out 
on a date. All the women in the room laughed, but I didn't. My leg was wet 
and I had a kid hanging off of me. Frankly, she was the only one I didn't 
want touching me.
      
      I was lucky enough that my parents weren't making me work that 
summer, and Tina wasn't working either. With what was essentially an 
unlimited gas budget, I was able to drive the hour to Tina's house every day. 
We would relax on the porch or swim in the pool, but things never went very 
far at the house. We were always supervised, not by Tina's mother, but by 
an 11-year-old girl who seemed to have a crush on me. Whenever Tina and 
I would swim, Kristin would come and want to show us tricks, like how she 
could do a handstand in the water and hold her breath for 30 seconds. When 
we went to take a walk down the country road, she would come running 
after us. And Tina and I couldn't hold hands because she would want to be 
between us, holding hands with each of us at the same time. 
      
      I can't say that I was very nice to Kristin. In fact, I treated her like a 
little brat. I was a teenager after all, and had a girlfriend who seemed willing 
to go as far as I wanted. But any time I tried to get too close to Tina, the 
little redhead found some way to interfere. Even when I told her to go away, 
she would refuse. I made it abundantly clear that I did not want her around
      
      Finally, it was a Friday night two weeks before I was going off to 
college. Tina's mother decided that they needed to throw a going away party 
for me. She had spoken to my parents, and they agreed to let me spend the 
night. They really didn't care too much about what I did, as long as I didn't 
get myself into too much trouble. They trusted me to make the right 
decisions.
      
      The real reason Tina's mother wanted me to spend the night was that 
she didn't want me to try driving home after I'd had a few, since as part of 
the celebration she had bought a nice selection of beer and wine coolers for 
us to drink while we ate hotdogs and hamburgers on the porch. Even little 
Kristin was allowed a sip of wine cooler, though I noticed her sneak more 
when her mother wasn't looking. Finally, as the sun was setting and we were 
finishing the goodbye cake, Tina's mother suggested that everybody else go 
to bed while Tina and I took some time alone. To me it sounded like a great 
idea, but I was afraid that once again the little redheaded girl would 
interrupt our time together. However, when I looked across the patio I saw 
Kristin's head lying in her folded arms as she sat at one of the picnic tables. 
Tina's mother joked about her having a little bit too much wine cooler, 
picked her up, and carried her into the house. Melanie followed, leaving me 
alone with my girlfriend.
      
      We both knew what was going to happen, but we didn't know exactly 
how. So for a little while we walked around the property. At the far end of 
the yard, we stopped. Turning to each other we kissed in the moonlight. We 
knew it was something romantic that adults were supposed to do, but 
neither of us really meant it. Instead, we only played the part of a grown-up 
couple when we were really just two awkward horny teenagers.
      
      After kissing for a while we both started to get excited. Quietly, we 
snuck back into the house. Tina's bed was out of the question, as she shared 
a room with Melanie. The other two bedrooms were taken up by Kristin and 
Tina's mother. We briefly considered my car, but then we decided that as 
everybody was asleep the couch would be fine. 
      
      There wasn't much romance to it, and neither Tina nor I even took our 
shirts off. Instead, she slipped her shorts and panties off, and lay back with 
her legs spread. My shorts barely made it below my knees. Tina had a 
feeling that tonight would be the night, so she had had a condom ready. I 
rolled it on and slid myself inside of her. Thought we were both 
inexperienced, it wasn't particularly hard to get started. Within a few 
minutes I was thrusting into her, not using any particular skill. Finally, with 
one final thrust I came inside of her. Tina finished herself off with her 
fingers. Within seconds we dressed again and cuddled on the couch. 
Eventually I dozed off and Tina went back to her room.
      
      The next morning I awoke to fists pounding. The blows were weak so 
they were more annoying than painful. What bothered me, though, was a 
high angry voice yelling, "Why did you hurt my sister last night? I saw you 
holding her down and hurting her last night. Then this morning I heard her 
telling Melanie that her legs hurt." As I attempted to block the blows, saw 
Kristin's angry face above me, her red hair flapping wildly behind her.
      
      As I shielded my head trying to tell Kristin that I didn't hurt her sister, 
Tina and Melanie ran into the room followed closely by Tina's mother. The 
11-year-old ranted about what I did as they pulled her away. Tina's mother 
tried to explain that I hadn't been hurting Tina, and that when Kristin was 
older she would understand what happened. Kristin wouldn't settle down, 
though. Instead, she kept saying how horrible of a person I was.
      
      I was very annoyed. After a summer of not being able to be alone with 
my girlfriend because of a little brat, I had finally gotten to have sex with 
Tina. Now this 11-year-old was trying to ruin that. Being 18, I thought I was 
a man, so I wasn't going to take this. However, I was only 18 and didn't 
really know anything, so I acted like a little boy, and shouted that nobody 
really wanted her around anyway.
      
      The next blow was from Tina, and it really hurt. After the shock wore 
off, I realized Tina was standing in front of me her hand recoiled after 
slapping me across the face. A look of complete hate crossed her face. 
Scanning the room, I saw Melanie's face red with anger as well. Finally, I 
saw Tina's mother with Kristin cradled in her arms. The little girl was crying 
and screaming uncontrollably, her words unintelligible. Beth was stroking 
her head telling her it was not true.
      
      Promptly, I was thrown out of the house. My wheels threw up dirt and 
gravel as I sped out of the driveway as Melanie launched something 
unidentifiable towards my car. I thought about stopping at a gas station 
along the way home and calling from the payphone to apologize. But in 
reality I didn't care. Tina and I were both going away to college-to colleges 
quite far apart. I really had no intention of keeping the relationship going 
past the summer. So I waited until I got home to call, and left a halfhearted 
apology on their answering machine. Two weeks later I was in my parents' 
car driving to my college on the Eastern Shore of Maryland.

*               *               *
      Rather than going home after my freshman year of college, I took up a 
friend's offer to spend the summer working the Chesapeake Bay with him 
and his father. They say that the sea changes a man. Working the waters, 
boys quickly become men, and men eventually become watermen. A 
waterman, you see, takes nothing in life for granted. A late freeze, a sudden 
storm, or even pollution hundreds of miles away can ruin a day, week, or 
even an entire seasons' fishing and crabbing. It's a hard life, and to live it 
you need to find a place of tranquility accepting what life gives you and 
being grateful for everything you have. 
      
      It was hard work, but being on the water I saw beauty in everything 
whether it be the gentle waves, the shimmering scales of a fish, or a 
freighter passing in the distance headed to ports in exotic lands. At night, I 
would stay awake and look across the bay to the lights on the other side. 
Eventually, I bought a notebook and started writing down my thoughts. 
Then by the end of the summer I was writing poetry. I wasn't very good, but 
started taking writing classes that fall. By the time the next summer came 
around I realized I still had more to say so I asked if I could come work for 
my friend's father again. By the time my third summer rolled around there 
wasn't even a discussion of whether I would go home. By the time the end 
of my senior year came, there was no question what I would be doing with 
my life. I was going to be a writer.
      
      I had lined up a job to teach creative writing at a private school 
outside of Philadelphia, so I had an entire summer to blow. I thought about 
spending another summer on the water. But when I asked my friend's 
father, he told me with great caring and sincerity that it was time for me to 
move on. You see, I wasn't a very good waterman. According to him, I spent 
most of my time daydreaming. Even when I was doing work, I was usually 
muttering bits of stories to myself. He finished by telling me that he knew 
deep down I had the water somewhere in my soul, but working it wasn't 
what I needed to do. He had read some poetry and some fragments of 
stories that I had left around the house the previous summer, and thought I 
was pretty good. So he told me that the Chesapeake waterman were a dying 
breed, in a little while they wouldn't be there anymore. It was my job to tell 
their stories.
      
      Without anything better to do, I spent a few weeks bouncing my way 
up the East Coast visiting friends. Finally at the beginning of June I got to 
my parents' house. They were of course proud of me, and even more proud 
that I was going to spread my wings and follow my dream. All of that 
required a celebration. So on the first Saturday that I was home, everyone 
got dressed up and we went to dinner at what had always been our favorite 
pizza place.
      
      I was disappointed and quite annoyed when we got there. What had 
been a normal pizza restaurant, had added a 'family wing'. Though we sat in 
the original room, you could hear children screaming in the other. There 
were still few sounds that annoyed me as much. However, it seemed like a 
blonde waitress who kept walking in and out of the room was familiar. I 
couldn't place her, because I had known so many girls in high school.
      
      Just before we left, I felt a tap on my shoulder as I exited the men's 
room. I turned and saw the blonde waitress standing behind. "Davey?" she 
asked, "Is that you?" Then I recognized her-Melanie Davis, my old 
girlfriends' younger sister.
      
      I don't know exactly why, but I ended up staying around for half an 
hour until her shift was over. Then we chatted for a little while, and agreed 
we would get together the next night after her shift. When she dropped me 
off at my parents' house, I felt a little confused. Even if Tina had been such 
a short-term relationship, was it right for me to go on a date with her sister. 
I was especially confused that Melanie would even want to speak to me after 
the way I had left things.
      
      However, the next night after she picked me up things became clear. 
Though she wouldn't tell me how, what I had said to Kristin that night 
almost four years ago had hit a nerve with the family. They were glad that I 
was gone, but in the long run all was forgiven. I had just been a punk assed 
kid shooting my mouth off.
      
       It turned out nothing had really changed in the family with two 
exceptions. First, Tina had joined the Air Force ROTC in college and was now 
studying to be in military intelligence. It's not something I would have 
expected, but I was happy for her.
      
      The second thing came as a major shock. Melanie was the mother of a 
two-year-old. Apparently, her senior year in high school she had gotten 
knocked up by some kid from the lacrosse team. At first she wasn't too 
scared, as he came from an affluent family and said he would take care of 
her. However, about two months after he had gone away to college she 
found herself in his family's lawyer's office. She would get full custody of the 
child and adequate monthly support, but the guy had moved on and didn't 
want to have any further contact with her. Now if she needed anything from 
him she had to go through the lawyers. So for now, she was going to the 
community college and working at this pizza place, and then making the 
long drive home every night. Luckily, both her mother and Kristin were 
available to help out.
      
      Though it paled in comparison to hers, I next told Melanie my story. 
She was enthralled. Even considering her circumstances, she loved literature 
and poetry. I let her read a couple of fragments from a little notebook that I 
carried with me everywhere in case I had a good idea. As the night wore on 
I found myself getting more attracted to her. When we finally left the diner 
where we had been drinking coffee, she kissed me pushing into me as I 
leaned back against her car.
      
      It was probably a very bad idea, but we were feeling reckless. So we 
stopped by my parents' house long enough for me to slide a note through 
the door saying that I would be back sometime the next day. Then we made 
the hour-long drive to her house, finding ways to tease and excite each 
other along the way.
      
      We drove up the driveway with the lights turned off, as Melanie said 
she didn't want to wake anybody. Quietly, we entered the house and snuck 
back to her bedroom. She opened the door and pointed to the double bed. 
While the nearside was empty, on the far side I saw the face of the little girl 
in the soft glow of the nightlight. I could tell by the way it reflected the 
child's hair was blonde like her mother's. I found nothing appealing about 
the sight.
      
      Luckily, Melanie closed the door quickly whispering that we couldn't do 
it in there. Instead she led me to the living room, to the couch where her 
sister and I had done it years before. She pushed me down, and unzipped 
my pants. She worked me out of my boxers, while gently stroking me she 
kissed it. And delicately she took me into her mouth alternating between 
running her tongue around the head and taking me in as deep as she could 
swallow. The feeling was intense; obviously she knew the right thing to do.
      
      After a few minutes, Melanie told me she didn't want me to cum in her 
mouth. She wanted it somewhere else. However, instead of getting right to 
it, she switched places with me. After kicking off her shoes, she slid her tight 
jeans down her legs. Spreading her legs she invited me to lick her. She was 
hairy, obviously not prepared for meeting a man. The hair held the smell of 
sweat and her wetness, giving her strong scent that was a little hard to take. 
But I did what I needed to do anyway, and after licking her up and down a 
few times my tongue attacked her clit. Moaning, she bucked her hips into 
her first orgasm.
      
      When she calmed down, Melanie pulled me up on the couch. Laying 
me on my back, she mounted me. She was soaking wet as I slid into her; 
her body gave no resistance. Before we started to move, I asked if it was a 
good idea to do it without a condom. She replied that ever since her 
daughter was born, she had been on the pill-she was safe. I gently thrust 
up and down, while she rocked her hips back and forth. I was already very 
worked up and apparently she hadn't fully come down. So after just a few 
minutes, I thrust up as deep as I could into her. At the same time, Melanie 
arched backwards and with her arms braced herself against the arm of the 
couch as she drove her hips forward with her second orgasm.
      
      We cuddled for a little while, but then Melanie said she had to go back 
to her room. Her daughter would be scared if she weren't there in the 
morning. She left and came back in a few minutes with a blanket and pillow. 
She closed the front blinds and kissed me. A few minutes after she left I was 
asleep.
      
      I woke up early the next morning to the sun blaring in my eyes.  
Apparently, someone had opened the blinds. As I sat up and looked across 
the room I saw a redheaded teenager staring back at me. At first I thought 
she looked angry, but then I realized it was a look of disappointment. 
Quietly but firmly, Kristin said, "You. Me. Kitchen. Now." Without protest, I 
followed.
      
      What I thought was going to be very tense conversation turned out to 
be only disappointing. After giving her a vague outline of what I was doing 
back in town, Kristin told me I needed to get out if I knew what was good for 
me. Melanie, she said, was just looking for a man. According to her, her 
sister got pregnant because she tried to trap the guy, thinking that he was 
her meal ticket. Now that she was a single mom she was looking for the first 
guy who could get her out of that condition.
      
      While it was disappointing to have anybody say that to me, it was 
infuriating to get the lecture from a teenager. I didn't lose my temper at this 
time, though. Instead, I firmly lectured Kristin that anything that happened 
between Melanie and me was our business and our decision. I would take 
into account what she said, but I would pursue things if I wanted to. I 
finished by saying that if she wanted to be respectful of me and her sister 
she would let us figure things out for ourselves. Kristen smirked and said 
that she guessed I didn't want her around. Looking at her as seriously as I 
could, I said I didn't.
      
      Just as Kristin shrugged and walked out of the room, Melanie came 
into the kitchen carrying her daughter in her arms. She kissed me good 
morning and said how she had a great time the night before. Then as she 
made coffee and breakfast for both of us she introduced me to the two-year-
old. For me it felt awkward. I didn't really see the point. It's not as if I was 
going to take her baby to a poetry reading. In fact, even though I wanted to 
get to know her mother better I didn't want to have anything to do with this 
child. However, I played along the best I could. I was, however, happy to 
get the ride home when Melanie left for her classes later that day.
      
      Over the next few weeks, I found myself getting more and more 
attracted to Melanie. If she was really hunting for a man like Kristin she was, 
I didn't see any sign. Instead, she put no pressure on me and always let me 
know how much she believed in me. It might be because of the admiration 
she showed towards me, I began to respect her more and more every day. 
Finally, one night while we were parked in her driveway, I broached the 
subject of her moving down with me when she finished community college. 
She was ecstatic, but reminded me that she came as a package. She must 
have sensed my hesitation, because within seconds her face was in my lap 
giving me an amazing blow job.
      
      On August 1st was to move into my new apartment outside of 
Philadelphia.  Melanie's mother had suggested I come by before I left, 
reminding me how much fun the night I spend there just before I left for 
college had been.  Surprisingly, Kristen was wholeheartedly behind the 
suggestions. I was confident that I would be back up soon enough to see 
Melanie so I insisted that I was going to drive down early.  To that Kristen 
scoffed that I wouldn't be able to get out of town without seeing her sister 
again.  It was true, but I was still annoyed when the night before I was to 
move the landlord had called saying that the apartment wouldn't be ready 
until the late afternoon. I weighted the possibilities of whether I should go 
down and wait until the apartment was open or pay a visit to my girlfriend.  
Finally, I decided that I would sleep in and pay Melanie a surprise visit 
before I drove down. Her house was out of my way, but I thought this girl 
was worth it.
      
      I was surprised to see a Mercedes at the top of the driveway as I 
pulled up. The surprise turned to shock, when I saw a guy in an expensive 
polo shirt and shorts sitting on the front steps holding Melanie's child. 
Melanie was behind him nibbling on his neck. I got out of the car not 
knowing what to say. The guy looked at me wondering who the hell I was. 
Melanie was still nuzzling him and didn't even notice I was there.
      
      Before the guy or I can say anything, the screen door slammed open 
and I heard Kristin's voice call, "my ride is here." Melanie looked up as her 
sister strode off the stairs. There was fear in her eyes-apparently, she 
didn't expect to see me there. When Kristin got to me, she gave me a hug 
and whispered get in the car and drive. I did as she said that saying a word.
      
      We made a quick stop at a gas station, so Kristin could make a call at 
a payphone. A half hour after that we were sitting in the parking lot of the 
local mall. "Davey, that was her baby's father." Kristin said sadly. She told 
me that Melanie had been seeing him again since a few weeks after I had 
started dating her. Melanie and the guy had already started making plans, 
but she was keeping me as a backup just in case things didn't work out 
again this time. Essentially, I had been duped.
      
      "Davey," Kristin continued, "you're a real prick. Or at least you are to 
me. But for some strange reason I like you. So I'm going to give you a piece 
of advice, avoid the women in this family. In one way or another they're all 
bad luck." She gave me a hug then opened the door and slid out of the car. 
Before I could pull out though, she was tapping at my window. I rolled it 
down, and she said, "Let me clarify that. I'm not bad luck, and you still owe 
me a date when I'm older." She gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and 
then skipped off towards the mall.
      
      As I watched her grow smaller in the distance, I was disappointed but 
also relieved. How to handle Melanie's child was an existential conflict for 
me. Now I didn't have to deal with it. Kristin might be annoying and was 
twice an impediment to my happiness, but there was something I liked 
about her.
      
      I pulled my car out of the parking lot and drove up to the interstate. 
Within minutes I was heading south on my way to the next stage of my life.
*               *               *
      
      Five years later, I was sitting in a bar in my hometown. I was hugging 
the last of some friends who had taken me out that night just so I didn't 
have to be alone. They all asked if I was okay to get home, but their concern 
was perfunctory. Everybody knew that I hadn't even finished one beer. I 
knew enough not to drink when I felt like this.
      
      Just over a year before my parents had been killed in an auto 
accident. After the funeral I knew there were arrangements that had to be 
made, but I couldn't handle. I turned everything over to their lawyer. As a 
27-year-old orphan, I needed to re-find my place in the world. So I had quit 
my job as a writing instructor, and headed back down to Maryland. I spent a 
full year with my old college friends' father working the waters of the 
Chesapeake Bay. Every night I worked on a novel about the son of a 
waterman desperately trying to follow in his father's footsteps caught up in a 
disappearing trade. First sentences and paragraphs than chapters flew out of 
me. After six months I was confident enough to send the book to an agent. 
Four months after that, my first advance check came. Though I had agreed 
to work out the rest of the season, I was now ready to face the world again. 
I called the lawyers, and told him to wrap up the last loose end-to sell my 
parents' house.
      
      I was back in town because there were papers I needed to sign. The 
last of my high school friends and I thought it would be a good idea to get 
together. It was unspoken, but everyone knew it was unlikely that I would 
ever come back to this town. So a night at the bar toasting my parents and 
wishing everybody the best for the future would end this chapter of my life.
      
      After my last friend had left and I was settling up the bill, I heard a 
voice slurp behind me, "Don't close out that scheck yet! You need to buy the 
birfday girl a drinks. Yay, big five O."
      
      I turned around to see a familiar face she was older with graying hair, 
but the resemblance to Tina and Melanie was unmistakable. "Mrs. Davis?" I 
asked. She said she was and told me to call her Beth. I hugged her and 
bought her a beer. As I sat with her and her girlfriends, she told them in 
vivid detail about me dating her daughters. She even went into 
embarrassing details about how "this hunk" fucked both of her daughters on 
the sofa. Rather than being disgusted, the women stared slyly at me. When 
Beth saw this, she stood and told the women that I was hers. Then she 
grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my chair, saying she needed me to 
give her a ride home.
      
      As we drove towards her house in the country, Beth sobered up 
quickly. I realized she was also serious and she had said I was hers that 
night because she started to blatantly hit on me. Finally, by the time I drove 
up her driveway she was kissing my neck and her hand was down my pants.
      
      We made out in my car, her working at my belt and me running my 
hand up and down her thigh underneath her skirt. After getting out of the 
car, we kissed again. I turned her around and bent her over, pulling her 
panties to the ground I intended to fuck her right there over the hood of my 
car. But she turned around, kissed me, and told me she knew a better 
place-the couch.
      
      Back at the bar, she had told me that Tina was stationed in Korea, 
Melanie and her husband were living in California, and Kristin was in college. 
So when Beth didn't try to keep quiet as we came into the house, I thought 
we would have the place to ourselves. No sooner had the door closed than 
Beth was naked standing in front of me. She was definitely 50, but was still 
an attractive woman. Her dark hair had gray in it, even the large bush down 
below; her breasts sagged; and she had gotten a little thicker around the 
hips. But she was still attractive enough that I would do her in a second. 
      
      I quickly took my clothes off as Beth knelt in front of me. She looked 
up at me in what I thought was a sultry manner. As she took me into her 
mouth, I remembered what happened with both of her daughters. With Tina 
it had been awkward teenage sex. With Melanie, it felt giving but it turned 
out that there was an ulterior motive. Now with Beth, the mother, sliding her 
head up and down my cock muttering about how I deserved better than 
them, I realized this was somebody who liked to fuck and probably did it a 
lot. Tonight would not be exploration or giving. It would be straight up nasty 
sex. This wasn't the seduction of a daughters' ex-boyfriend, I was just 
another young guy. She was just another middle-aged slut. I put my hands 
behind her head and began to work her up and down.
      
      When I shot a huge load in her mouth, she held it open to let me see 
it. Leaning her head back, she swallowed it and then showed me that it was 
gone. Though I was experienced, Beth's attitude was something I never 
faced. Immediately I got hard again and knew I would have more loads that 
night.
      
      Seeing how excited I was, Beth lay down on the couch. She spread her 
legs wide one on the floor one climbing the couch with her ankle resting on 
the back. I took it as an invitation, but was slightly nervous as I knew she 
was probably with many guys. Casually I asked about a condom, and she 
told me she was clean, then continued that if I was afraid of knocking her 
up, she had had her tubes tied 25 years ago. With that, I got on the couch 
and started to slide myself into her.
      
      Some women know how to play their own bodies like a finely tuned 
musical instrument when they're having sex. Beth was one of them. I fucked 
her in many positions: missionary, doggy style, girl on top, and even a few I 
can't describe. We ended each one with a crescendo of her orgasm. She 
knew how to play my body too because though I felt another orgasm 
building inside of myself, it took a long time before I finally shot my load 
deep into her pussy.
      
      Even after that we still weren't done. Beth stood, and bent over the 
couch. She scooped some of my cum from her pussy, and rubbed it on the 
other hole. Slyly she said, "Sometimes a girl just needed up the ass." 
Though I had never done it before, I knew this would be my first experience 
with anal sex. However, with how easily I slid in, I could tell it wasn't her 
first. As I pounded away, she had orgasm after orgasm. Between them, she 
would tell me that girls like her daughters would give their pussy to a man, 
but only a real woman would give her man her ass too.
      
      When I shot my final load of the night deep inside her bowels, I knew 
that our session was over. I put my boxers on, and was ready to follow Beth 
to her room. The only times I'd slept over at this house, I had slept on the 
couch. However, as I helped Beth back, she said that she was feeling sick. 
She wanted me to sleep on the couch in case she threw up. At that point she 
seemed completely sober, so I realized that I had been there for sex and 
nothing more. Her bed was her place I would not be joining her.
      
      I put the rest of my clothes on and thought about my next move. I 
was pretty tired, and didn't feel like making the drive home-or at least to 
what once had been my home. Before I could finish deciding, though, the 
decision was effectively made for me when I heard a quiet sad voice say, 
"And now my mother too." I looked up to see a redheaded woman kind of 
plain but with a certain attractiveness to her that I had not seen when she 
was younger. As she stared at me, I felt ashamed.
      
      In a few minutes, I was in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in my hand. 
I asked Kristin about college and she reminded me that that the next 
semester didn't start for a few weeks. She asked what I was doing back, and 
I told her I'd come to wrap up my loose ends. She gave condolences about 
my parents, and it turned out that during the funeral she had slipped into 
the back of the church and stayed there inconspicuously. She had wanted to 
show her support, but didn't want me dragged back into her family's web. 
Then she told me that it was a good idea for me to leave and never come 
back. Her junior year was starting, and then she had lined up a summer 
internship at the British Museum. When she got back in country, she would 
go right back to college. She didn't know exactly what she would do, but 
after her senior year, she would not come back.
      
      When the caffeine had taken effect, I walked back out to my car. Just 
as I opened my door I heard Kristin following. When I turned to face her, 
she looked at me and said, "Davey, take me out tomorrow night. I want to 
show you that not all of us are a disaster."
      
      Looking at her, I instinctively knew that she would be different. I didn't 
know what it was, but something told me that she was different from the 
other women in her family. However, I also felt ashamed. It wasn't so bad 
that I had been with Tina. That was essentially a teenage fling. Nobody 
expects those to last. On the other hand, I had been a fool not to realize 
what Melanie had been up to, and not to listen to Kristen when I had been 
told. Finally, there were so many things wrong about having sex with her 
mother. As hot as the sex with Beth was, it had only been a middle-aged 
woman looking for affirmation by screwing a younger guy. I also realized 
that I had used her too. In regards to this town, my life was over. There 
would be no coming back; I had no reason to visit. In a way, Beth had been 
wrapping up one other loose end. My years with the Davis family were over.
      
      I walked over to Kristin and gave her a hug. I kissed her on the 
forehead with affection, but only the kind of affection you would give to a 
friend who had changed your life and with whom you are parting forever. I 
told her that I had to be out of the house the next day, and I wouldn't be 
staying around. I was surprised by the desperation in her voice as she asked 
me to get a hotel room and stay. Probably it was my shame speaking, but I 
told her that would be a bad idea. 
      
      Kristin must have sensed that my answer was final. She stepped back 
and sadly looked at me. After a brief pause, she said, "I always hoped that 
someday you would want me around. I'm sorry everybody else got the 
chance to be with you but I never did. I would have been different. Davey, I 
wish you nothing but the best in life." With that she turned and walked back 
into the house.
      
      It seemed that there was no one on the road as I made the hour-long 
drive back to my late parents' house. When I got inside I unrolled the 
sleeping bag and settled down to sleep. Somewhere in the night, I had a 
vision. I was opening the door to a big house outside Philadelphia. As I 
stepped inside, three little kids came running to me, two boys and a girl, all 
with bright red hair. I woke up sweating in the middle night. How was I, a 
person who hated kids, dreaming about coming home to children? And was 
their mother the person who I thought it might be?
      
      The next morning I didn't even bother to shower-I needed to get out 
of there. So when the realtor came with the final paperwork, I signed it 
while a handyman changed the locks. It was official. My life here was over. I 
hadn't made arrangements for after I left, so I drove back down to 
Maryland. When I showed up at my old friend's father's door, he agreed to 
let me stay with them for a while, as long as I didn't work the water again.

*               *               *
      
      For the next few years, I stayed on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. I 
had bought a small house in Salisbury, and continued to write stories about 
watermen. Then as I started talking to some of the small farmers who were 
going out of business I realized their stories needed to be told as well. One 
of those farmers was a woman about my age who had just inherited her 
parents' land. I wouldn't say we fell in love, but we got on well enough that I 
sold my house and moved in with her. There was no talk of marriage or of 
children. Hence, when I got an offer to be a visiting professor of creative 
writing at a school in in Washington DC, she didn't mind that I would spend 
the week in the house the school provided. When the second semester 
started, I was living in Washington full-time.
      
      One thing I realized was that I enjoyed teaching writing to adults. High 
school kids had been a neutral experience, as they were nowhere near as 
bad as young children. But college students were still better, and teaching 
noncredit courses to adults in the community was a joyful experience. So 
when I got an offer to spend a year in Philadelphia, I took it. Then a one-
year position became a full-time position. I was successful writer and a 
college professor.

*               *               *
      
      Now here I was, sitting in a quiet West Philadelphia coffeehouse 
staring at a redhead I had not seen in a decade. I didn't really know what to 
say to her because so many memories came rushing back-- memories of a 
10-year-old brat sitting on my lap, memories of a teenager skipping into a 
mall, and memories of college girl telling me we both needed to get out, and 
most of all memories of redheaded children running to greet me in a dream. 
So I thought I'd stall in order to formulate my thoughts, so I asked about 
her family.
      
      Tina, it turned out, had stayed in the military doing signals 
intelligence. Eventually though, somebody got suspicious about the postings 
she requested. It seemed that most of the places she wanted to be, were 
known areas that are Iranian and intelligence worked. After a two-year 
investigation they found out she was selling information to an enemy. She is 
now serving a life sentence for espionage in Leavenworth, Kansas.
      
      Melanie was still married to her baby's father. Unfortunately for her, 
she didn't get to see them at all. After he graduated from college, they had 
moved to California where he worked as an attorney. She was thrilled by the 
lights of the city and pushed her husband into politics so she could get more 
exposure. He was elected a State Senator and his career seemed to be on 
the rise. However, her greed became an obstacle. Behind his back, she had 
been taking money from a business developer then trying to influence his 
votes. Unfortunately she wasn't very good at the latter part, so when the 
investigation completed, her husband was fully exonerated and Melanie 
ended up in prison. It must've been the federal government's idea of a cruel 
joke, because her prison wasn't in California. Instead, it was a minimum-
security prison, a 'Camp Fed', near where we grew up.
      
      Their mother, Beth, had the most tragic outcome of all. Apparently, 
she really had been a slut and to support herself had even worked as a 
prostitute. Somewhere along the line she got HIV. The medications didn't 
work for her, so she died of AIDS. Luckily, it was relatively quick. 
      
      Kristin even told me about her father. It's true that he was in the 
Merchant Marine, but by the time I had met her he'd just divorced her 
mother. He didn't like the fact that she was running around with everybody 
in the area where we grew up. Amazingly, it was him who turned Kristin on 
to my writing. He would vacation on the Eastern Shore of Maryland and had 
by chance attended one of my poetry readings. One might not think that 
sailors are well read, but apparently that's what he did during the long 
nights at sea. He thought he remembered Kristin telling him my name and 
that I had published a book, so he told her about me.
      
      And there was one more surprise, Kristin told me about her mother-
not about Beth, but about real mother. It turns out that it was impossible for 
Kristin to have been Beth's daughter. On that drunken night of wild sex, 
Beth had said her tubes were tied 25 years before; at that point Kristin was 
20. Kristin was the product of her father's affair. One night during a port call 
in London, her father had met a young Irish woman in a bar. He already 
knew his wife was sleeping with everybody in the town, so when the woman 
invited him back to her flat, he went with her. Ten months later, he got a 
telegram that he had a redheaded baby daughter whose mother had died in 
childbirth. Beth had not been a wholly bad person, and she agreed to take 
Kristin in-as long as the money kept coming. However eventually, the 
divorce was inevitable. Soon after I first met the Davis girls, things for 
Kristin started getting bad. By the time I saw her nine years later she 
needed to get out.
      
      After she finished telling me the story, Kristin looked at her cell phone 
and remarked about the time. She mentioned she needed to go, but also 
commented that neither of us had said what we had been doing for the past 
few years. And then she said with the most confident smile I had ever seen 
on a woman, "We can talk about it when you finally take me out."
      
      I wasn't at all put off. So I told her that I was giving a reading at my 
university the next night, and scribbled down the time and location. Then I 
told her with a smile on my face, "I'll take you to dinner after that."

*               *               *
      
      "Somewhere on the road between Salisbury and the sea." With that I 
ended my reading. I knew it wasn't my best piece, but the audience politely 
clapped anyway. Really, I probably could've read the phone book and these 
people would have clapped. The audience was mostly creative writing 
students from the surrounding universities and the dilettantes from the 
community who thought that being exposed to a literary fiction author made 
them better than other people. They probably would have chosen a chamber 
orchestra over the symphony as well, as the latter was too pedestrian.
      
      As I scanned the room, I saw Kristin there in the back. She had a bit 
of a cocky smile on her face as if to say, "I don't like your writing and this 
was especially bad." But still, she had come and seemed to at least enjoy 
being at the event. And as I stood in the front signing books, counseling 
students, and listening to the sycophantic faculty members surrounding me, 
she waited. 
      
      Finally, as the last of the people trailed out I walked back to her. Her 
beautiful red hair was done better than it had been the other day, but her 
blue eyes were the same-deep and inviting like the clearest waters of the 
Bay. I had only briefly greeted her before the reading, and now I didn't know 
what approach to take, as I didn't know what she was expecting. So I gently 
took both of her hands in mine, leaned over and kissed her gently on the 
cheek. As I pulled back I saw her smile. Smiling back, I asked, "Shall we?"
      
      From our conversation last time we talked, I realized that Kristin would 
not be impressed if I tried to act sophisticated, a man of the world in a 
cosmopolitan city. We both knew that wasn't me. Really, I was a boy 'from 
the provinces' who had gone to college in a small town, and who was telling 
the story of people who lived a quiet hard-working life. I did not write stories 
about the neo-aristocracy. I do not write stories about the rich. I did not 
write fantasy about far-off long-ago knights and princesses. I was what I 
was, just another workingman, only one who wrote stories.
      
      With this in mind, rather than trying to find out what the new trendy 
restaurant was, I decided it would be best to take Kristin to a neighborhood 
pub. It was close to where I lived, though it really wasn't my intention to try 
to get her there. Instead I chose it because it had good food and a nice 
selection of beer. As we walked in the door, I realized that I didn't even 
know if she would like a place like this. However, my anxiety was put to rest 
when she told me the place was perfect.
      
      At first, we had to feel out the best way to steer the conversation. 
What we had most in common was her mother and sisters, but during our 
last conversation I learned just about everything that I cared to know about 
them. I couldn't really talk about my life either because almost everything 
important had been reported in one way or another. I had talked about my 
life and approach to writing for numerous writing journals, given interviews 
to the New York Times book section, and was even interviewed on National 
Public Radio. It seems that everything that had ever been written about me 
Kristin had read.
      
      So the natural subject to talk about was her life. It turns out that she 
never did go back home for any length of time. Her internship at the British 
Museum was so successful, that after graduation she returned to work 
specifically on American history collections. While working with some colonial 
era artifacts, she became more fascinated with the prerevolutionary period 
in the United States. So after a few years, she found a job at a Philadelphia 
Museum and had been working there ever since. The pay wasn't great, but 
she wasn't a sophisticate, didn't really go out on the town. She had a small 
but decent apartment, a small group of friends, and plenty of books to read, 
including all of mine.
      
      Finally, I decided I should ask a question that had been in the back of 
my mind since that day in the coffee shop. Kristin must have been 
anticipating that I would ask it because she started to answer before I said 
anything. "Davey," she said with a smile that almost reminded me of a 
smitten schoolgirl, "I guess you probably wonder why I always wanted you 
to take me out." When I nodded my head she continued, "I can't really say 
why. Just for some reason the first time I saw you I knew I needed to 
protect you. My mother and sisters could put on a pretty good act, you 
know. It probably seems like we were this sweet little country family. But I 
already knew that my sisters were just trying to get their tickets out of 
there, and my mother was trying to get revenge on my father. For some 
reason I felt like I needed to protect you. So when you were dating Tina, I 
tried to avoid leaving you guys alone. When I heard her telling Melanie what 
happened, I was scared. I thought she might get her claws into you. So I 
pretended to be a clueless little brat who didn't know what was going on.  
What you said to me hurt, but when she broke up with you I couldn't have 
been happier."
      
      Kristin waited a moment making sure I was keeping up with her, then 
she continued, "Then when I found out about you and Melanie, I tried to tell 
you what was going on. But you definitely have an independent streak-that 
might be one reason I like you-and you just wouldn't listen. But over that 
summer I could tell you were a bit of a romantic, so I figured that you'd 
come by to say goodbye to her before you moved. So it was my idea for her 
to have her baby daddy come over. I know it was manipulative and you 
were probably hurt, but I thought it was better that you see for yourself.
      
      "And then finally there is Beth. What can I say about my mother? 
Honestly, I don't know if I really need to say much. I don't think she was 
trying to catch you or anything like that, though I was afraid you might have 
caught something from her. I just think that with both my sisters gone, and 
the redheaded stepdaughter about to leave, she was trying to prove that life 
hadn't passed her by; to prove to herself that everything she did was in 
some way worth it. Well for me, you were always worth it. And that's why, 
more than anything, I wanted to protect you, even though you didn't want 
me around."
      
      When Kristin stopped, I had to think for a second. My first reaction 
was to be offended. It seemed that ever since she was 10 years old, she had 
been condescending to me. However, as I thought about it, I realized that 
she had done more for me than anybody possibly could have. If I had 
started a relationship with her oldest sister, I may not have spent summers 
on the waters of the Chesapeake. I probably would've ended up back in my 
hometown doing something or other, but I definitely would not have been a 
writer. If I had continued to pursue things with Melanie, I would have had 
my heart broken. Or if somehow we had ended up together, she would 
probably have traded up at the first chance she got. Finally, her mother had 
caught me at a terrible time in my life. For all I know, I may have latched 
onto her. If I had done that I might even be dead now. Kristin really had 
done more for me than anybody else. It was as if I was an insect that 
somehow ended up between three spider webs, and Kristin had let me out. 
When my mind cleared, I reached across the table and took her hand. I 
looked into her deep blue eyes, and said, "Thank you. Thank you for 
everything." I left the words I love you off the end.
      
      We talked more about our futures. It turns out we were both pretty 
satisfied with where we were. Neither of us was particularly lonely, but we 
were both willing to see what was out there. I guess it was one of those 
ways of trying to feel each other out a little more. Though neither of us said 
it, it was quietly assumed that this would not be our only date. However, 
while I had no real expectations of a relationship, it was obvious that Kristin 
did have long-range plans. It may not be immediate, but eventually she 
wanted to get married and have children. After she brought that up, she 
sighed and said, "I guess you still hate children."
      
      It was true in a sense, children were not my top priority, and I didn't 
go out of my way to be around them. But then I remembered the dream I 
had the night I had been with her mother. I wanted to find a way to describe 
it to her, but didn't know how to start. Something deep in the back of my 
mind saved me though and I blurted out that I didn't hate hers.
      
      I could tell that Kristin was confused. She recited again her adult life. 
After pointing out how little she dated, she reminded me that she didn't 
have any children. After telling her I knew that, I told her about the dream. I 
told her about the house in the suburbs, and the two girls and a boy, all with 
red hair, running to greet me when I opened the door. Finally, I told her that 
though I never saw their mother's face I knew it was her.
      
      Kristin appeared utterly amazed, and it was her turn to sit in silence. 
Finally after a few minutes, she asked me if that's what I really wanted. 
After our second date, I knew it was and I told her so. Her face was serious, 
but under the table I felt her leg rub against mine. She smiled coyly and 
said, "Okay then. If you're serious, let's start tonight." Grabbing her by the 
hand, I pulled her to her feet. I gave the waiter a 50 on our way out the 
door.
      
      Kristin's apartment was indeed small, but it was very inviting. There 
was a soft light that gave a warm golden glow to everything. There was a 
neatly kept desk, and an old-style sitting chair that looked perfect for 
reading. When I saw a remarkably familiar couch, I was told to not even 
think about it. We would be going to the bedroom.
      
      Moonlight streamed into the bedroom as we stood and kissed. Our 
hands were all over each other as we slipped each other's clothing off. When 
we were naked I crouched down and took Kristin's nipple into my mouth. 
She asked me if I liked them small as she moaned. I mumbled that I did as I 
started to finger her shaved pussy.
      
      Falling back onto the bed, Kristin pulled me on top of her. As we 
started to hump, she lined me up so I could slide inside of her. It took very 
little time for us to find the same rhythm. Our bodies slid back and forth on 
top of each other. We began to move faster and faster. Finally, as my body 
began to tense, Kristin whispered in my ear that she wasn't on anything. I 
huffed that I knew she wasn't. So she continued that it was just about the 
right time and I should pull out if I didn't want to start my dream tonight. 
Instead I buried myself deep inside of her, and came as I stared down into 
the face of the woman who had given me more than anyone else in my life.
      
      Kristin came seconds later, and afterword we lay close in her bed, our 
bodies holding each other our legs intertwined. Basking in the soft moonlight 
I thanked Kristen for tonight, and for everything. And then I told her that I 
loved her. She teased back that she knew I would someday, then seriously 
told me that she loved me too. It was ironic that my future was with the one 
I didn't want.

-End Story-