Message-ID: <7566eli$9801201634@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: cmndr@nym.alias.net (Commander Jameson) Subject: {ASS} RP Lost & Found "I Promise" by Tom Bombadil (cons, rom) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii X-Email: Don't send me e-mail as BCC - it will bounce. Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <34c79efb.4397160@207.14.113.10XCJ> "I Promise" by Tom Bombadil (c) Oct 1996 Romance, nothing explicit, fun stuff Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer. This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives. You've been warned. I give permission for anyone to archive or share this story. Author's notes: This story might not really be explicit enough for a.s.s. Oh well, it's going in anyway. I'm sure somebody out there will appreciate reading some fun stuff, and a touching story, for a change. If you want to spoil the surprise (or if you might not like what could be an unpleasant shock to some people), go read the personal summaries at the end of the story first. I have absolutely no idea what the laws are in the states mentioned in this story. Everything written here is fiction. If you want to know the legalities, contact a lawyer or some other type of legal counsel. Do NOT assume anything in this story is based on reality. My apologies to Louisiana if my rather ignorant, uninformed, and biased impression is wrong. ******************************************************************* "Pffft ... pffft" Dorothy was trying to blow a stray lock of hair out of her eyes without any success. She was far too tired to use her hands. Chris, not quite so tired, but just as sweaty, reached over and brushed the offending blonde hairs out of the way. "Thanks." "You're welcome. In more ways than one." "Don't flatter yourself. You're not that great!" Despite her tone of voice, she smiled a half-grin, taking any possible sting out of her words. "That's not what you said five minutes ago. Back then it was 'Oh, oh yes, more, please, more, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.' Or don't you remember anything from that long ago?" "Nope. Don't remember a thing. Nope nope nope. Nada. Nothing. Besides, that's not admissible in court anyway. I was under duress when I said that. Extreme coercion." "And I guess I was the coercer, wasn't I." "I won't admit anything at all. Nope." "Well, even if you won't admit anything, I will. You were wonderful, as always." Chris began to play with one of Dorothy's nipples. Dorothy rolled over towards her lover, curling up at the same time to break off the contact. "Nooooooooo, I can't take any more right now. Everything's too sensitive. Don't touch!" "How about this then. A nice, light, lip-to-lip massage. Mmmmmm." Dorothy closed her eyes, straightened out a little, and let Chris kiss her, open mouthed, for a few minutes. Her lover finally leaned back. "I guess that didn't hurt. At least, I don't think those were moans of pain I heard." "No. But I've really had enough. Just hold me." They lay there for a while, with Dorothy curled up in Chris' arms, covers pulled up over their cooling bodies. Off in the distance they heard a door slam and a woman's voice call out. "Honey, we're home!" Dorothy's mother Pat Penny and her husband Will had just returned. "Okay Mom!" Dorothy yelled. "We'll be down in a while!" "Does that mean I have to move?" groaned Chris. "Absolutely. Somebody has to drag my poor, abused body into the shower. I know I can't." "Oh, I feel sooooo sorry for you, you poor abused thing you. That last tongue lashing must have been sooooo brutal. " "If I had any strength left, I'd hit you. Now get that big black body of yours in gear and help me get my poor abused self into the shower. I want dinner and a rest before you do anything else to me. And *you're* gonna change the sheets tonight before we go to bed." " Henpecked already. Three months before you even move in with me and you're nagging." "Now now dear. If you don't want to go through with this, just say so. You can go home if you want and forget aaaaaall about me. I'll just lay here and cry my little eyes out." " Riiiight. There's about as much chance of me letting you get away, Lady Di, as there is you letting me leave." "Oh you beast. Can't a girl have any secrets? Just 'cause I'm hopelessly in love doesn't mean you can get away with anything you want. You're gonna hafta work around the house too, you know." "I'll do my share. You think my place stays clean all by itself? And what's this hopelessly in love stuff? There's nothing hopeless about it. Or doesn't that little rock I gave you mean anything?" " It's the second most beautiful thing in the world." "I'll bite. What's the most beau ... Okay, okay. I got it. Let's go have that shower now. Like I said before, your taste is all in your mouth. But I love ya anyway." They were interrupted by a rap on the door. It was Pat. "Come on you two. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, and I assume you both need showers. If I don't hear the water running in two minutes I'll come in there and drag you into the bathroom myself." "And she'd do it too, wouldn't she." Chris whispered. "Yes I would! So get moving!" "And she's got really good ears." Dorothy whispered back. They got up, groaning and complaining to each other, and headed for the en-suite bathroom. Dorothy's blue eyes were sparkling with laughter as she teased her lover, while Chris' dark brown eyes just rolled to the heavens. ******************************************************************* "Ooooo that tingles. Enough Di, enough! No more. You've worn me out." "Oh, did little old me-ums tire you out, you poor thing?" "Just let me catch my breath for a while. This time I feel like the worn-out dishrag." "Okay. Some kissy-snuggle now?" "Mmmm, yeah." ... "Di?" "Mh?" "What do you think it'll be like for us in, oh, say, ten years?" "Well, I'll be the perfect wife, of course. Let's see, ten years ... I'll be the perfect mommy too. We'll have four or five of our six kids by then ... a couple will be in school, and I'll probably still be nursing the latest one. You'll have bought out that electronics place you work at, or maybe started a new business, so we'll be comfortably middle class - I like that phrase. We'll own a big house out in the 'burbs, and I'll know everybody on the block by their first names." "Sounds like a nice dream. Especially the kids part. I just wish it could be true. We'll be really lucky if we can get away with having two, you know." "I know. I can still dream, can't I? " "What's so funny?" "I'm just picturing my Mom's face if we ever tell her she's gonna be a grandma. She'll faint dead away." "Yeah ... I can just see her doing that again, her face turning grey, her eyes rolling up, and her knees just collapsing out from under her." "Will we ever have kids, Chris?" "Yes, Lady Di, we will. At least two. Somehow." " I hope so. You know how much I want children. I need babies to hug and love and watch grow up. I don't think I could go on living without believing I'd have that." "I know, I know. I feel the same way. We will have a family, a real one of our own that nobody can take away from us. You know I'll do almost anything to make that possible. Even if we have to move elsewhere." "Uh huh. Maybe that's why I love you so much." "Well, maybe it's because I'm such a wonderful person." "Just 'cause you are, doesn't mean you can brag about it. You know what they say about pride." "It cometh before etcetera etcetera. I don't know about you, but I'm getting sleepy. Night-night time?" "Okay. You turn out the light." "Good night honeychil'e. Luv ya." "I love you too, you silly goose. Do I get a good night kiss?" "Mmmmm" ******************************************************************* "So how is your Pasta Prima Donna, Di?" "Pasta Primavera. And it's good. Just 'cause you don't like this stuff, don't put it down. After all, I'm not picking on you about eating that huge slab of protein, am I." "Tetchy tetchy. A body would think you were all wound up or something." "C'mon, Chris. It *has* been sex, I mean six days, after all." "Not my fault. You're the one that has relatives over, not me." " Don't remind me. Putting up with them is bad enough. Not being able to have you around, or go see you, makes it lots worse." "Three more months, and then it doesn't matter what your family thinks anymore. You'll be legal. At least your Mom and Dad have sort-of accepted us." "Yeah. And my big sister. I'm glad they finally came around." "Me too. Especially your sister. I thought she was gonna rip me apart there for a while. And she could do it, too." "I guess she could. That's what weights do for a person. Professional bodybuilder. Can you see me looking like her?" "Absolutely not. I'm really glad you got most of your mother's genes instead. You're a perfect height, beautiful, with gorgeous blue eyes, cute little dimples, and moderate curves in all the right places. Very pretty and very cuddly. The only thing you got from your Dad is his blonde hair. You sure don't look anything like that Aryan demigod. Though he does look like somebody I've seen before." "Well, most people think my Dad looks like that Dolf Lundgren guy. You know, the one in the He-Man movie? Just a bit shorter. Yeah, I'm glad Giselle got his genes and not me. She needs them with her temper. How about you? You glad you got most of your Dad's genes?" "Sorta. I've got his height and the looks from his side of the family. I'm glad I didn't get his personality and temper though. Would you like me better if I was short like my Mom? Even shorter than you, that is?" "Nah. I like cuddling in your lap." They were interrupted for a few minutes by their waiter clearing the table and taking orders for desserts and drinks. A whispered conversation started just after he moved off. "Hey Bonkers, I think he's got a woody!" "Yeah, Di? Think he noticed?" "Maybe. He might have seen us kissing." "Really? So you think his nasty imagination got him all excited?" "Yep. The perv. Should we give him a show?" "Now now, Lady Di. Remember, discretion above all else. If we don't advertise, they'll never know for sure." " It's just so hard keeping my hands off your beautiful body." "You're just all wound up. I'll 'unwind' you later, you little minx. For here and now, keep your hands, and your lips, to yourself." ******************************************************************* "There you go, Honeychil'e. That should take care of all those nasty little kinks and tense little muscles of yours." " Bonkers, you give the nicest massages. Just one iddy biddy little thing, though." "What?" "That hand you've got in my pussy. If it keeps doing what it's doing, I'll get all wound up again." "Do you want me to stop?" "No, not really. Just giving you fair warning. You'll have a horny little blonde minx crawling all over that beautiful black body of yours - again - if you keep it up." "Ooooo. Is that a threat or a promise? I'll batten down the hatches and prepare for the worst. Now you just hold off as long as you can. That's an order. And just to help, I've got a question for you." "Mmmmm? What?" "What's the hardest thing you've ever done?" "Is this a serious question?" "Sure. Why not. When you're finished, you can ask me one too. Just be honest." "Lets see ... hardest thing I've ever done ... that's as in ever in my whole eighteen years ... probably the hardest thing I've ever done is finish grade eleven. I have never, in my whole life, had trouble with anything like I did with that stuff. You remember, don't you? Math, and biology, and English, and that idiot typing class I took, and all the rest of it." "I remember helping you with 'that stuff' every other night for what seems like months. In fact, it *was* for months. I tell you, it was so frustrating. You were so wrapped up in all that school work you rarely had any time for *us*." "Yeah. It was tough for me too. Without your help I'd have flunked out of school for sure. That stuff was hard! I think I made it up to you with that party we had. I'm not sure what kinda shape you were in, but I could hardly move for two days." "It was a glorious weekend, I admit. And no, I was in no better shape than you were, but I carried on anyway. I had to go to work on Monday after three hours sleep. You skipped out that morning. Your Mom told me." "Snitch. I'll get her for that one. Now my turn. Same question. What's the hardest thing you ever did in your whole life, all twenty two years of it?" "Easy question. I don't even have to think about it. It was six months ago. That give you a hint? No? You were there. Still no clue? So were your parents and your sister. Ah, now a glimmer. It was sitting in that chair, not saying a word, while you told your family about us. Believe me, nothing in the world, except your sweet self, could have made me sit through that." "I know. I'm sorry. It's just that I wouldn't have had the courage to do it if you weren't there for me. It almost broke my heart as it was. Especially when Dad called you all those nasty names. Then my sister threatened to tear you apart, and my mother fainted ... God, it was horrible." "At least you have fairly reasonable parents. And an understanding sister, sort of. They did eventually come around. It took a while, but you still have a family." "Yeah, and they're your family too, now. After all, you don't have much of one anymore, do you." "No. The only ones who'll still talk to me are my little sister and little brother, and since they're still living with Mom and Dad, I don't get to see them much. Out of two brothers, three sisters, both parents, and eight uncles and aunts, that's not much. I guess if Mom wasn't so dominated by Dad she might too, but it's hard to tell." "I thought you said you had an aunt and someone else you could still talk with?" "Sorry, you're right. Aunt Geraldine and grandma Desmonda. Mom's 'Chicano' half-sister and 'Chicano' Momma. Dad hates them too, almost as much as he hates me now. Of course, that means they talk to me as much to spite him as because they like me. I guess I shouldn't complain. They do still talk to me." "I know what you mean. I wonder if my big brother's ever gonna speak to me again. He hasn't spoken to me ever since I told him and we had that argument. Six months worth of calls home and visits and all he's ever done is glare at me. Ooooommmmmmaaaahhh! Those fingers of yours are really getting to me. Enough of this serious stuff! Grrrrr, roll over and get ready for hurricane Di!" ******************************************************************* " Not that again." "Yep. Just can't get enough of that Captain." "Di, if I have to watch 'The Love Boat' every Saturday morning for the next fifty years, I'll take up jogging, or cycling, or bowling, or something, just to get out of here!" "Aw, it's not that bad! One hour a week won't kill you." "How come you like that Captain so much? He remind you of someone you know? Like maybe a bit of your father?" "Nope. Maybe that's why I like him. I wish my Dad was more like him. Now Archie Bunker reminds me of my Dad, if you can imagine him being a six-two blonde Nordic weight lifter. The personality and attitude are so close, it's scary. How about you? Does that guy (pointing at the TV) remind you of your Dad?" "The bartender? Not even close. Imagine a black Al Bundy, but without the personality and sense of humour. Now add in a real mean streak. That comes close." "How about your Mom?" "Oh, she's usually great. She just won't go up against my father for anything. Did you ever see the movie 'To Wong Foo: Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar'?" "Yep. Five times. It was great!" "Well, pretend that the chequita 'girl' is black, with less of an accent. That's my Mom. Actually, without any changes, that's my Grandma. Mom's usually pretty good, except when it comes to Dad." "Hey! I'm missing my show!" "Aw, I'm sorry. Really I am." "Suuuure you are. Lucky for you I've seen every episode ten times, or I'd get mad. I'd hafta sick somebody on you to teach you a lesson." "Like who?" "Nasty question. Let's see ... who would be nice enough not to hurt me, but mean enough to beat up on you. Emma Peel?" "Nope. Got the skills, but not enough of a mean streak." "I know - Xena!" "Ouch, that's getting nasty, bringing her into this. She probably would, too. Let's see, cut your hair about a foot shorter, add in some orange tinting, pad your bust and hips, and you'd be a Gabby look-alike. Yep, she'd do me for sure, you mean woman you. I ought to put you over my knee and paddle you for even thinking that!" "Oooo, promises, promises. Chris, do you think I'll ever meet your parents?" "Mom probably. Dad maybe not. That's up to my father. If he changes his attitude, and decides that I'm not the world's worst offspring and a totally ungrateful child, I might forgive him for some of the things he's said about you. Now Mom is a different story. She's a lot more understanding than him, but he's got her so well trained, she almost never goes against him. Sort of like Archie and Edith Bunker. This time, though, he might have gone too far. She really loves all us kids. Even me, the misfit, the wild thing, the hellion, the demon-spawn from the stygian abyss." "Were you really that bad?" "Maybe. Let's just say I earned my nicknames." "All right, Bonkers, you evil child you. What horrible fate have you got planned for us this weekend?" "Nothing for today, unless you need help with school. You go back home and finish your chores and homework and whatever. Tomorrow morning, I'll pick you up right after church. We're going for a *drive*." "Really?! I can't wait! Where are we going?" "I've got this place in mind, waaaaay out of the city. It's a converted plantation manor house. We-uns is gonna get countrified. Just picture the two of us, out on the lawn, sitting at a table under a big magnolia tree, you having your mint julep, me emptying a nice big pina colada. Dress up for this one. It's two hours there and two hours back. We'll be having lunch there, and dinner in town." "We're going in the 'vette?" "Of course." "Top open?" "Definitely." "Halter top and shorts?" "To get there and back, as long as you bring a nice dress." "Can I put my feet up on the dash?" "Only if you bring slippers." "Can I bring some tapes?" "Anything you like. Even some of that, ugh, Pavarotti stuff. But if you make me listen to him, you're gonna have to suffer through some Elvis." "It'll be worth it!" "Okay, you ol' houn' dawg you. Oh dear! I just realized something. Something terrible!" "What? What!?" "Er, your show's over." Dorothy was dead on target with the pillow. ******************************************************************* "I'll take three." "Dealer takes two." "C'mon, Chris. What're you hiding in there? Probably a pair and an ace, or something silly like that. Okay, I bet two." "Dealer sees two and raises three." "I'll see that. Now show me what you got." "Dear, I'm already naked. What part can't you see?" "Churl! Varmint! Despoiler of innocent children! You oughta be ashamed of yourself, assaulting me with a horrible joke like that! Now show me your cards!" "Read'em and weep, honeychil'e. Three sevens." "Not this time, you shark you. Three tens! Ha Ha Ha!" "Cheat! Where have you been hiding those cards at?" "Wouldn't you like to know?" "If you had any clothes on, I'd be searching them. The only other place, well, I'll just check that right now." "OhhhooooHOOOOOoooeeeee! Eeewww, gross! They'd get all sticky and gooey in there!" "Not to mention all bent out of shape. Just a cheap excuse to put my fingers in where they don't belong." "Oh, they belong all right, just not right now. Here, I'll shuffle and deal. Nope, you clean your *own* fingers off! And ante up." "Mmmmmmm. Num. Okay, I'm in. And ... I'll ... bet ... three." "Sure of yourself, this time. Okay, I'll see your three and raise you two more." "Call. One card." "One for you, dealer takes one card." "Okay ... hm ... I bet five." "Dealer calls, and raises five." "Damn! You bluffing again Di?" "Only one way to find out." " Okay, I'm dumb enough to bite again. I call. I got two pair, aces over fives. What about you?" " Twos and Threes. Three twos and two threes. Gotcha!" " This just isn't my night." "Damned right! And guess what? I'm cashing in and calling in all debts. Right now!" "You would, wouldn't you. Miserable wench." "Tch tch. Falling to such a low level now. You just pay attention while I figure out what I've got here. Lets see ... sixty five kisses, three back massages, a neck rub, two foot rubs, one - how did this get in here, you kinky person you! Lets check the chart. I trade everything in for kisses ... uh huh ... I'll keep this back ... uh huh ... I get two of these - mmm, I *like* this - and I get five kisses change! I *am* the big winner tonight! Looks like I hit the jackpot! I even get to keep five kisses and one foot rub, just for an emergency you might say. And, get this, I get *two* tongue jobs!" "No fair! You cheated!" "Now now, Chris. You already checked the only place I *might* have been hiding cards. Let me get comfortable. One pillow under my head - I want to keep an eye on you, just to make sure you do a good job - one pillow under my buns - to make it easier on you..." "And better for you..." "And better for me. I wouldn't want you to get a crick in your neck, though. Remember, multiples only count as one, so you've got a lot of work to do." "How long before your parents get home?" "Only another hour, so you're wasting time. Oh to hell with the cards! Let 'em lie! Get your face over here, NOW!" ******************************************************************* "Nope, no more arguments. We're going swimming today. As in *we* will *swim*. The Captain's just gonna have to wait 'til next week. You already had your chance to tire me out, and you went back to sleep for an hour instead." "But you kept me up 'til two in the morning!" "I kept you up? Oh, yeah, right Di. Blame it all on me. I couldn't have pried you off with a crowbar! You had your thighs wrapped so tight around my head I saw stars! But I kept you up?" "Yep. It's All. Your. Fault. If you hadn't kept sticking that damned tongue of yours out, I mighta let go and gone to sleep. But nooooo. Just like the energizer bunny, you kept going, and going, and going ..." "And you kept c... Nope. You're not gonna get me heated up now. We're going swimming. Or at least I am. Get mobile and get ready to go if you're coming with me. We're supposed to be meeting Daina there." "Daina? Your kid sister?" "Yep. One of her older friends is bringing her, and she let me know when and where they would be. We've got time for an hour's swimming first - if you get your cute tail in gear." "How long has it been since you've seen her?" " A month and a half. It feels like a lot longer. She's the only one in my family who seems to understand." "You miss her a lot, don't you?" "I miss everyone, but especially her. Even with all the trouble I got her into, we're still closer to each other than to anyone else in the family. Maybe that's why she never went strange on me, like everyone else did." "Have you asked her about *it*?" "I haven't dared. I won't until I'm a little more sure of how she'll react. I don't want to take any chances on alienating her, the only family I've got who still has any respect for me." "You're nervous, aren't you. Don't worry, I'll stay in the background as much as I can. No sense in rubbing her nose into the problem." "Thanks, Di. Oh, since you're coming, bring your sunscreen. Even if *I* like swimming lap after lap, I'll only force you into twenty minutes of exercise. After that, you can bake all you want." "I guess that's a fair trade. Now, if you let me loose, I'll go hop in the shower." ******************************************************************* " No more tickling! You promised!" "Oh, all right Di. No tickling. Or, not much, anyway." "You promised no more tickling tonight. And you *always* keep your promises to me, right?" "Yes dear. All but one." "Well, you've broken that one so often, it hardly matters any more. If you ever do decide to keep it, let me know so I can hit you." "No fear of me keeping that promise, believe me. You're just too tasty. Tasty lips and tasty neck and tasty nipples and tasty tummy and tasty belly button and ..." "And that's enough. We need sleep tonight, remember? And if you get me started again ..." "We won't get to sleep for another two hours. Yes, I know." "Chris, how long had we known each other when you made that promise? I know you made it when I was in grade ten, and it was either September nineteenth or twentieth. For some reason, I keep thinking we'd hardly met, yet at the same time it feels like I've known you forever. It was at least six months after we'd met, wasn't it?" "I guess you never actually knew the real me until then. But your memory is slipping. We first met over a year before that promise. It was summertime, and you kept coming into the coffee shop I was working at." "I did? I don't remember that." " Gotcha. I remember you from way back then, even though you didn't have a clue who I was. Just another faceless person serving food. I wouldn't have remembered you either, if it wasn't for 'The Coffee Incident'." "The coffee incident? What coff ... Oh my God! You saw that?" "Every last drop of it. I had to clean up the mess." "Oh Gawd! That was so embarrassing! Don't you dare tell anyone what happened!" "Oh, don't worry. I won't. It's future blackmail material. Anyway, the first time we really met was in October. It was in the library. So that means almost a year." "A whole year. It's hard to believe. You took a whole year to work up the nerve to kiss me." "Yeah. And what did it get me?" "Hey, the black eye disappeared pretty quick, and the scratches didn't leave any permanent scars. Bruises don't show up much on you anyway, so they didn't matter. You got off light. Besides, I apologized. ... Uh, I did apologize, didn't I? ... No? You mean, I never even apologized? Oh dear. More blackmail material?" "Yep. Then again, you did have a bit of an emotional problem at the time. Once you'd cried yourself out and told me what happened, I couldn't very well stay mad at you, could I." "You were the most wonderful person in the world. I was a basket case, pure and simple. Even now, thinking about what those guys made me do, and what they almost did, eehhyuch!" "C'mere. I think a little kissy-snuggle would help right now." "Mmmmm. Nice. Oooh, that feels good." ... "Chris?" "Hmm?" "Tell me again how come you kissed me that first time." "You mean you want to hear it for the hundred and first time?" "Yeah. I like it when you tell that story. You never tell it quite the same way twice." "Well, lets see. I'd known this little blonde bimbette for a while ..." "Bimbette? Bimbette!?! I'll get you for that!" "Hushup, or I'll just go to sleep. Where was I? Oh yeah. There was this blonde bimbette I knew, a real pretty one. We'd been spending some time together. Some in the library, some having the odd lunch together, some doing homework - your grade ten stuff and my book work from tech school. But mostly we just talked. We talked about anything and everything. You learned about all the problems and prejudices I suffered through that you never saw, and I learned about all the different problems and pressures you had on you. My friends certainly hassled me about hanging around with some dumb honky, not that peer pressure would've made any difference to me. You lost a few friends, I know now, and had a few arguments with your folks that I never heard about until later, but you never let any of those things interfere with our friendship." "Yeah. I was doing my own rebelling back then. Besides, you're one of the few people who ever liked me just for being me, not for who they thought I should be, or because of my father, or for who I knew, or because I was so cute." "Hey, who's telling this story, you or me?" "Sooooreeeee." "That's better. One Saturday you missed out on our time in the library. Then you missed lunch on Sunday. I was concerned, but not overly so, because you and your folks weren't getting along all that well and you might have been grounded or something. You showed up Tuesday for homework night, but you were quiet and looked a little upset about something. I couldn't get anything intelligible out of you, so we just did our school work, drank some diet cokes, and you went home. Thursday went about the same way. I was worried about you, you know that?" "Yeah. Now I know. Back then, I was so wrapped up in my own pain I never noticed." "So you missed Saturday in the library again. Sunday, you were there for lunch, but even quieter than before - so unlike your normal yap yap yap self." "I'll get you for that too." "Despite the heavy clouds, we went for a walk after we ate, down near the river. You were getting sadder and sadder, and I didn't have the slightest idea why. You never said a damned word about what was bothering you, even denying that anything was wrong. You were about as miserable a person to be around as you can imagine. Talk about lousy company." "But you stuck around." "Hey, best friends are hard to find, in any colour. I don't remember why I sat on that bench. Maybe I had to fix a lace, maybe I wanted to look at the scenery, probably it was something else altogether. Whatever. I sat down for a minute, and the next thing I knew, you were in my lap giving me a death-grip hug that wouldn't quit. What was I supposed to do, dump you on your keyster? I held you close. You felt good." "Hey, I just needed a hug real bad!" "Suuuure. I know better. So we sat there for a while, just rocking back and forth a little, with you hanging on for dear life. Your head was on my shoulder, your eyes were closed, and you looked so sad, so vulnerable, and so in need of some loving, I just couldn't help myself. All I did was turn my head a bit and we were mouth to mouth. It felt so nice, your lips were so soft and warm, I just couldn't stop. I closed my eyes when you started kissing back." "Yeah. I noticed that when I finally opened my eyes and saw someone really was kissing me." "I guess that's how you managed to catch me by surprise. You stood up and slugged me! Talk about a rude shock! It hurt!" "You deserved it! Taking advantage of an emotionally distraught and vulnerable young thing like me." "Ha! You beat the life half out of me! When you finally realized I wasn't fighting back, you broke into tears and crawled into my lap. We sat there on the wet grass in that misty rain for a long time before you started talking. We were both soaked to the skin by the time we left. Back then, I didn't know why you wouldn't tell your parents or your sister what happened." "Yeah. Then I got you to make that promise." "Yep. And it was six months before you managed to get me to break it. Just proves that I should never make promises while I'm emotionally involved with someone else's problems. Even yours. You still owe me a blouse, you know." "I know, I know. One day ..." "Here, let's break my promise again. Kissy kissy?" "Nmmm" ******************************************************************* "A wedding? You two are going to have a wedding?" "Yes Mom. We are. Next April, if everything goes okay. One of Chris' friends will be performing the ceremony. If we lived somewhere more liberal, like, oh, maybe California or Nevada, we might be allowed to have a real marriage, but Louisiana just isn't all that progressive. We might go somewhere later and get a certificate, but we both want a church wedding here at home. For us, and for anyone who wants to come." "Why? What possible reason could you two have for a wedding?" " Why does anyone have a wedding? A J.P. is cheap and easy. Why bother with the work, the expense, and all the hassles? For us, it'll be a symbol of what we mean to each other, a confirmation of what our relationship is and of the commitment we've both made. Just like any other couple. Besides, it'll be a lot of fun." "Your father will never agree to pay for something like that, you know. He's just barely accepted the fact that you two intend to live together. Have you thought about that?" "Yes Mom, we have, and we've both had enough promises of support that we can do it without any money trouble. Even without help, we'd just wait another year and do it ourselves." "Can I ask who's helping?" "Well, Chris' boss for one. He's promised some help, and so has Chris' aunt and grandma. So has Giselle." "Your sister? After what she said?" "Yep. She's kinda gotten to like Chris, now that she's spent some time with us. The Pastor down at St. Paul's said that he'd let us hold the wedding in the chapel. He can't perform it, but he said he'd let us use the place and pretend." "That's very nice of him. I'll have to thank him next time I see him. I didn't realize he was quite so liberal." "Actually, he's got a niece in the same boat as me, and she got treated almost as bad as Chris, so he's a little bit sympathetic. I kinda like the old goat too. He didn't act at all upset or condescending about what we're planning on. That was really nice for a change." "I tell you, it'll be the oddest wedding I'll ever be at. I can just hear the vows now. 'Do you, Dorothy Constance Penny, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to ...'" "Yeah, and then her part - 'Do you, Christina Emmanuelle Jackson, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife ...'" "So what happens when you get to the part about kissing the bride?" "Well, what do you think we'll do?" "Oh. Okay. What about all the rest of it then? I mean, how will you be dressed, will there be ushers and bridesmaids, all that kind of stuff?" "Chris will be wearing a tux. She wants that. I'll be in a white wedding gown - I *am* still a virgin, you know. I'm planning on two bridesmaids and a maid of honour - Giselle, of course, if she wants to. The 'best man' will be Chris' kid sister, and her kid brother will be one of the ushers. That'll sure look weird in the photos!" "Have you told anyone else about this?" "Besides the people helping out? Only Daina, Chris' kid sister. Did she ever laugh when we told her she'd have to wear a tux! She wants lots of pictures for her own special album." "A wedding. Between you two. I've got to admit, you sure know how to surprise me. How I'm going to break this to your father, I don't know. He can hardly stand the thought of what's going on now. When he learns that you're planning on ..." "Mom! Don't worry about it right now. We've got almost a year to get him primed and used to the idea. Besides, by then aunt Stacy will know about it too." "You'd tell your aunt before your father?" "Yep. For sure. After all, I told Giselle before I told you. Besides, I want his sister there when I tell him about it. I'll need all the support I can get. I tell you Mom, this is scary, but it's what we want. For Chris, I'd do almost anything, and I know she'd do almost anything for me. This is something we both want." "I know, hon. It's just, well, it's such a big step, like you're making this permanent." "Mom, if Chris was a guy, you'd be thrilled. Your first child to have a wedding. You'd wish us a long and happy life together. We want this to be something wonderful, and it's for *us*. If you don't think you can handle it, you don't have to be there. Neither does Dad." "Don't you dare suggest such a thing! Of course I'll be there! So will your father, even if I have to drag him to the chapel hog tied and gagged." "Thanks Mom. You don't know how happy that makes me. And Chris. You know, there's probably only gonna be four people from her whole family at the service. Well, maybe more, but only four we can count on. Her father will definitely *not* be there, and she doubts her mother will be either. The only ones we can count on are her kid brother and sister, her aunt Geraldine, and her grandmother. That'll make things a little bittersweet for her, but, we're gonna have a lot of fun with it anyway. Just think. The father of the 'groom's' place will be taken by a fifty nine year old white woman - her grandmother. The 'best man' will be the 'groom's' younger sister, and the 'priest' will be a forty-five year old mother of four." "That's sure going to be some strange wedding. I wouldn't miss it for the world! Of course, I do have one regret." "What's that, Mom?" "It's just that you were my last real hope for grand kids. You know Dan can't have any, since that accident. And Giselle - well, with her career, she won't be able to have kids until she's into her thirties, if ever." "I know Mom, I know. I guess I'm going to have to let you in on a big secret, something really important to me and Chris. We've talked about letting you in on it before, but we couldn't figure out how to do it. You have to keep it a secret too, from everybody. An absolute secret. Can you do this?" "I - I think so. If it's that important." "It is. It's something me and Chris have been dreaming about ever since we started going together. If everything works out okay between us, we're planning on having children of our own in a few years. We want at least two." "But ... but you and she ... two girls can't ... that means you'd have to ... ohhhh ..." "Mom. Mom! Oh, Lord. Giselle! Mom's done it again!" ******************************************************************* "Why won't you be with me at my grad, Chris?" "We've been over this before, Di. I will be there, just not with your family. I'll be in the back somewhere, watching. You know I wouldn't miss it for anything." "But I won't see you! It's not the same!" "You'll know I'm there, though. That's the important thing. Your grad is for your family and your school friends, not for me. I wouldn't be welcome, and my being there could ruin things for you and everyone else." "I don't care about everyone else! To hell with them! I want you there! You've done more to get me through school than anyone, especially Mom and Dad! You deserve to be there! I want *you* there!" "I won't do it, Di. I won't give anyone a chance to cause a big scene. I wouldn't do that to anyone you or I care for. Not to your mother, not to your sister, not even to your father. They're trying, and they deserve something for that. After all, how would we have managed without at least some support?" "It's just not fair! You gotta be there! You gotta!" "I can't, Lady Di." Dorothy rolled over to the edge of the bed, facing away from her lover. She ignored everything for a while. Chris let her alone. When she figured enough time has passed, she spoke. "Di? You finished your pout yet?" "I guess. Did I sound as silly as I think I did?" "Worse. You sounded like my kid sister did a few years ago, when she got told she couldn't stay at camp for the whole summer. Daina even managed tears for *that* tantrum. Hugs?" Dorothy rolled over into Chris' arms. "Di, what's really the matter?" "Nothin'." Chris rocked Dorothy in her arms, waiting for her to say something. It took a while. "It's just not fair." "What happened Di? Arguing with your Dad again? Or with someone else? Bad day at school? Bad hair day? Well? I know you're upset about something." "Another call. Tuesday. The guy phoned five times." "The police caught him then?" "Oh, sure. But he didn't make any threats either, just like the last guy. So he's getting charged with harassment. He spends one night in jail and get's out on bail. Later he'll get convicted by some old-fashioned judge, get a slap on the wrist, and walk off. Big deal. Why can't they just leave us alone? It's not fair! It's just not fair!" Dorothy began crying on Chris' shoulder. "I know, honeychil'e. It ain't fair. There's too many jackasses in the world and not enough good folk. It's okay though. We'll find someplace." Chris stroked her love's hair until the crying died down to the occasional sob. "How come they can't leave us alone? We're not hurtin' them, are we? Are we Chris?" "No, not really. Only in their minds. Hey, think about this instead - where do you think we should move to? It needs to be someplace with lots of good people, someplace not too big, someplace where they might just let us be us. Got any ideas?" "I dunno. Maybe San Francisco? That's where all us folks is supposed to go, isn't it?" "No, Di. Not all 'us folk' are supposed to go there. Somebody has to live somewhere else. How about San Diego? Wonderful weather, wonderful beaches, great zoo ... Or Maine? They're supposed to be really friendly people in a beautiful landscape." "Maybe Seattle? Everyone there's supposed to be soooo laid back, maybe they wouldn't care too much." "Or maybe somewhere in Canada? How about Newfoundland, on the coast, in a small fishing town. Lots of fresh seafood, great ocean view, fishing boats everywhere, an accent thicker than the fogs, you up to your armpits in seaweed ..." "Eeew. Maybe we'd be better off moving into the middle of nowhere, with nobody around anywhere, so we can be all alone without anybody mean ever bothering us. Maybe?" "Maybe not. I still need to work, remember?" "I guess. I just wish people would leave us alone! It's not fair! We shouldn't hafta move away from home, should we? I mean, we're both nice people, right? Everybody who knows us says so. So why? Why? " "Hush, little one. Hush. Enough tears for today. Think about what our home will be like. It'll be out in the suburbs somewhere, on a nice shady street, in a nice quiet neighbourhood. We'll have a big white house, three stories high, with blue trim and a fence all around the outside. We'll have a big back yard, with two apple trees, and ..." "And a cherry tree?" "And a cherry tree, so we'll have apple blossoms and cherry blossoms in the springtime, and we can make apple butter and cherry jam in the fall. There'll be a swing set for the kids, and a slide, and a teeter totter, and we'll also have ..." "Don't forget the sandbox. Kids gotta have one, y'know." "Right. The sandbox. Can't forget something important like that. A sandbox for the kids to play in, and a small wading pool, and a dog house for that ugly beast you want ..." "S'not ugly. Cute." "Riiiight. A cute bulldog. Okay. And we'll have mittens to keep scruffy in line ..." "Here kitty." "Mmhmm. And you'll have a garden to grow tulips and daffodils and mums and peonies and those other funny looking things you like ..." "Bluebells." "Bluebells. And what will we do once a month, all through the good weather?" "Barbecue?" "Yep. A big barbecue, for us, for our kids, for the neighbours and their kids, and for some of our other friends. You'll like that, won't you?" "Uh huh." "Someday we'll have all of that. Someday. Somewhere. Somehow." "Promise?" "I promise. Someday we'll have a home." "Someday, Lady Di. Someday soon. A home, and a family, and a dog and a cat, and a nice flower garden, and nice trees, and rose bushes out in the front yard, and we'll be friends with all the neighbours, and you'll cook and clean and keep the house tidy, and look after the kids while I'm at work, and we'll have wonderful dinners, and we'll play with the kids until they all go to bed, then we'll sit on the couch in front of the fire and cuddle and call each other silly names, and I'll tickle you 'til you're giddy, and then we'll go to bed and make sweet, wonderful love all night long." "Mhm" "I promise." ******************************************************************* Dorothy Constance Penny - the femme (princess) Lady Di, Honeychil'e, *Hates* being called Dot 5'3", long honey blonde hair (tush length), blue eyes, moderate build, 18 (19 in three months). Graduating from high school in 1 month. Likes pasta, mint juleps & strawberry daiquiris, cooking, sun tanning, listening to Pavarotti Queen and the Beetles, barely tolerates Elvis, adores babies, favourite colour pink, loves watching Loveboat reruns, X-files, Xena, fav actor Tom Hanks, fav actress Lucy Lawless (the eyes get her), partial vegetarian Chris (Christina) Emmanuelle Jackson - the domme (prince) Bonkers, Misfit 5'10", 3/4 Negro, 1/4 Latino, brown/black eyes, short black kinky hair, light chocolate skin, 22. Finished 2 year electronics tech course, working for 2 years f/t as repair tech for a local firm. Loves steak, lobster, shrimp, racquetball, swimming, Walt Disney movies, watched 'The African Queen' 25 times (so far), loves Pina Coladas, hates Loveboat & Rush Limbaugh, fav actor Humphrey Bogart, fav actresses Katherine Hepburn & Renee O'Connor, likes long drives in the 'vette and listening to old rock, especially Elvis. ******************************************************************* World Wide Web: http://members.iglou.com/stbush/stories.html Author: Tom Bombadil, who may be reached through Shelby Bush -- CJ I don't write any stories. I'm just a reader, and sometimes a reposter. Spambait: jmiller@inreach.com,foxfire@sakurakai.com,knestle@mediaone.net -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |