by Lila Younger
And just like that, we were back to normal. But we couldn’t be, not for long. Because I’ve seen it now too, the desire she has for me, how much she wants it too. But I know I have to wait. I’m ten years older than her; and I don’t want anyone to say I took advantage of her. I’ll wait until she’s old enough to make the decision, and then I’ll ask her. And if she doesn’t want me then, if she wants to go out into the world and achieve her dreams, then I’ll stand aside and let her. It’ll kill me, but I’ll let her, and I’ll wait until she’s ready to come back. Because if there’s one thing I’ve discovered tonight, it’s that I can’t do without her. I need to be able to see her every day, to hear that silvery laugh of hers to function. Her presence is like oxygen, and without it I can’t survive.
I love her, and she’s the only one I want. The only one I need.
Isabelle
“So why don’t you try finding the amplitude of a sinusoidal function with a practice problem, okay?”
Its study period, and I’m supposed to be catching up on Trig with Eric, but my mind is a million miles away. I nod at him, and he lets me get to work, but the stuff might as well be written in Greek. All I see are squiggles on a page. Even rereading it a few times isn’t enough to get my brain in gear. I’m too broken up about Wyatt’s revelation. It explains a lot actually, but I guess I was too love struck to see it. I mean, I’m not quite eighteen. Why would he want anything to do with me? All his care, his protection, it was all just because he feels guilty from my mom, nothing more. I feel so stupid.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the memory of us together that night, my heart pounding as I thought that I would finally get my first kiss. Ha! What a joke. I just hope he isn’t laughing at me. I practically threw myself onto him. And then to learn about what happened… I just managed to hold myself together long enough to get to my room before bursting into tears. I’m glad he told me his side of the story, but I’ve put most of it together already from my dad’s rantings over the years. But to see his face, you’d think it was a fresh pain, like it had only happened yesterday. He needed to hear that I forgave him, that I didn’t blame him, and I was happy to give it.
I’d be happy if only he could be. If only he could see how he deserved to be happy too.
“Having trouble?” Eric says, peering at my empty piece of paper.
“Oh, uh, sorry. I’m kind of distracted.”
He grins.
“Let me guess; you haven’t heard anything I’ve been explaining this whole time have you?”
I’m mortified. I didn’t even think that I’d just be wasting his time while I wallowed in my own problems.
“I’ve been listening,” I say hurriedly. “I just-”
“It’s okay,” he says. “You want to talk about it?”
I pause. Eric’s nice, but it’s not like we’re friends.
“I just like someone I can’t have. He’s… older. I should know better,” I say, “but that doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Ah,” he says. “I know what that’s like. I like someone too. A guy.”
My eyes widen in surprise.
“Wow, I never-”
“Would have guessed?” he finished for me. “Nobody does. I’ve only told two or three people. So yeah, I know a little bit about what it’s feels to like someone you shouldn’t. I fought against that for a long time myself. But I don’t think we can really choose who we’re attracted to. We can only choose what we want to do about it.”
I lean back in my chair.
“That’s pretty deep stuff Eric,” I tell him.
“A lacrosse player with brains? I know right?” he says with a grin. “Now come on. We don’t have a lot of time left, and you really do need to know this stuff if you want to pass Trig.”
Eric has a really good point. I decide then and there to just throw myself into my school into my work. I’m only here for a few more months, and then I’ll be able to move on. Surely it can’t be that hard?
Luckily I’ve got a lot to do. In addition to schoolwork, there’s rehearsals after school, and then I help Bailey with her lines, and she helps coach me. I’ve got the singing part easily, but it’s turning out to be harder than I thought to act on stage, so she’s giving me tips. She’s noticed something going on with me too, but even more than Eric, I can’t tell Bailey what’s going on, even if she is my good friend. It’s just too risky. The last thing I want to do is get Wyatt in trouble after all he’s done. It’s not his fault that I fell in love with him. And with my dad gone, I don’t know. I just want to be careful.
He’s another thing I’m worried about lately. I regret my outburst, all of those harsh words that I’ve been saying, even if I’ve thought them for a long time. I know that it’s hard to beat an addiction, but I guess I just hoped that I would be enough to make him want to conquer it. Clearly that’s not the case. He’s probably off at a casino somewhere, living it up now that he doesn’t have to worry about his daughter. It’s a ball of pain I’ve grown used to, so I try not to think on it too much. I don’t need more hurt in my life. He sends me texts letting me know he’s okay, and for now that’s enough.
It’s too bad that Wyatt’s home, the one place I felt safe and secure, is so hard to come home to now. The bright spot of my day is Charlie. He loves me unconditionally, and all he asks for is a few pets here and there. Why does it have to be so much more complicated with humans, I wonder?
“I’m not going to think about him anymore,” I tell Charlie as I fix up dinner. “Not like that anyways.”
Charlie just smiles and pants, waiting patiently for his scraps. I hand him a little bit of cooked chicken, and he scarfs it down happily. I’m just washing my hands and preparing to shred up the chicken for tacos when Wyatt walks in the door. He’s wearing a black suit today for an important meeting, and he literally oozes raw power and sexuality in it.
“Hey Isabelle,” he says, loosening up his tie.
And even though my brain made the smart decision not to think about him like that, my body just responds to him. I just couldn’t help it. All the discipline and control I have when it comes to everything else in my life goes out the window when it comes to Wyatt. He comes over, leaning over me to sniff the crock pot. His masculine scent and warm body fills me up with desire, and I can literally feel my pussy twitch with need. My body’s hot and all over, a flush spreading across my body that’s getting harder and harder to ignore every day.
“Smells amazing,” he murmurs by my ear, and even though I know he’s talking about the food, I can’t help but hope he means me.
“It’ll be ready in a minute,” I manage to say.
“Then I better set the table,” he says, withdrawing, and I let out my breath. I can’t let him see how much he fazes me. He’s made it clear he’s not interested.
I busy myself with the last minute details, like laying out the cheese and olives, the taco shells, and of course the meat at one end of the enormous dining room table. I’ve wondered more than once why he needs such a big place, considering the fact that he doesn’t have people over at all, but he tells me that that’s how the house came. Completely furnished, completely done. What a guy sort of thing to do.
In fact, the whole house is sort of like that. All sparse and unpersonal. But now that I’m here, things have started to change. It started with little things, like a cute fruit bowl I found at target, or the Star Wars salt and pepper shakers that I knew he’d love. More and more it’s become a place for the two of us, our own cozy nest, and I’m almost dreading the day my dad comes back and ruins all of it.
“Did your meeting go well today?” I ask as I hand over the shredded chicken.
“It did,” he says. “Disney’s greenlighted us to put together at least another five games in line with their live action films for the next two years.”
“Wyatt! That’s fantastic!” I exclaim.
This deal is big. Really big. I mean, Disney is a household name, and everything th
ey touch turns into gold. To have a client like that guaranteed for the next two years will let Wyatt pursue some of the other pet projects he’s always wanted to do, riskier ones. Like programming camp for kids who wouldn’t get the chance otherwise. We’ve been talking a lot, about how it would be wonderful to bring some of the opportunities that Rosewood has to high schools like my old ones, because I’m sure there are others like me who would love a chance to try something new.
“It really is. We’ll be able to implement some of your ideas now,” he says his tone earnest. “I know that if I had something like that when I went to high school, I might have turned out for the better.”
The flutter in my heart grows stronger. When I first brought up the fact that it would be nice to have a camp or something for students like me to experience different jobs and opportunities, I didn’t really expect Wyatt to take it seriously. But he has, and he’s going to make it come true. And that’s not all. When a girl from the neighborhood came by letting us know that she’s wants to try and save the polar bears with a bake sale, not only did he buy all the blueberry muffins available (my favorite), but he also quietly wrote a check donation in her name. That’s just the kind of man that he is.
“Not possible,” I tell him. “You’re already fantastic.”
“Speaking of fanatastic, I know that your birthday is coming up soon. Did you want a party?”
“I’ve never had one,” I tell him truthfully. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Wyatt replies. “You just have to say yes or no, and then show up while everyone showers you with presents.”
I laugh.
“Well in that case, yes! I’d love one.”
“Then you’ll have it,” he says. “I’ll take care of all of it. Just tell me anything you want, and I’ll make sure you get it.”
I want you, I think. But I know that no amount of birthday candles could grant me that wish. Eric’s advice might have made sense, but I’m learning very quickly that love rarely does.
Wyatt
Today’s the day. I can’t believe it. The past two months have crawled by like molasses, like torture, but today’s her birthday. Isabelle’s eighteen, and I can finally show her how I feel tonight. I’ve got a big night planned, dinner out at a wonderful French restaurant, followed by a stroll along the lakeside, ending hopefully in my bed. My cock twitches, hard as a brick, ready to fuck at the thought of her. Like every morning, I wake up painfully erect, the image of Isabelle seared in my mind. Those gorgeous full breasts, the swell of her hips, the tight pink pussy that I’ve been waiting for now. I’ll beholding all of it in my hands tonight.
I take my cock in my hand, slowly pumping the length of it, letting the pleasure build as I imagine plunging my cock into her sweet depths, taking her to the hilt and claiming her for myself at last. I can almost feel the silkiness of her skin, her heavy breasts, that creamy white flesh, pink nipples just begging to be sucked. Caught up in the vortex of pleasure, I tighten my grip on my thick shaft, moving faster, breath shallow as I imagine Isabelle’s pink lips on my bulbous head, tongue swirling around the rim, licking up my salty cum as she worked me into her mouth, inch by inch.
My strokes are quickening now, my hand working over my burning cock, thrusting up towards Isabelle’s tight pussy. I can almost feel that velvety warmth wrapped all around me, molding itself to the bumps and veins of my cock. The way her pussy lips tighten around my shaft, drawing my cock into her swollen channel, caressing my cock has me hissing. She begs for more, calling out my name, nails digging into me as I claim her for my own. I’m spreading her apart, her moans mingling with my grunts as I push in deeper, bottoming out inside of her, angling her just the right way to fill her up to bursting.
Precum’s dripping out of the head now, lubricating myself as I pump, my desire for Isabelle’s young body evident in just how much is pouring out of me already. I squeeze my fist, tightening as I delve into her, her sweet virgin hole, her cries throaty with intense pleasure as I fuck into her, shaft pulsing with desire, my balls tightening up against my body as I come all over myself, cock jerking as I finish. The spurts come hot and fast, one on top of another, so much that I think I must have come at least twice. My body trembles with my release, but my cock’s still hard, still needing more.
At least I won’t be sporting a raging hard on at the party, I think as I let my head fall back onto my pillows. These days, if I don’t come at least once in the morning, my cock’s hard all day, thinking of Isabelle. I want her, she wants me. It’s clear to both of us what’s happening, and yet because of her age I’ve had to push it all down, bury it deep. I know it’s the right thing to do, but all that raging male desire has to go someplace, has to get released somehow.
I get out of bed and head straight into the shower to wash myself off. There’s a lot to get done today still. The pool party that I’ve put together is going to start at noon, and I have a million things to get done if it’s going to be perfect. I’ve got a huge three tiered princess cake for her in lavender, her favorite color, that I’ve got to pick up, and there’s decorations that have to go up everywhere. She’s never had a birthday party before, so I want her first to be special. The whole day is going to be, from start to finish. It has to be, because everything about her is perfect for me, and tonight, that’ll all become clear.
Isabelle belongs with me, and tonight she’ll know it.
********
“Thanks for coming,” Isabelle says as she walks with Bailey to the front door. “This is the most amazing birthday ever.”
“No problem,” her friend replies. “It was so so much fun! I’ll see you tomorrow for rehearsals then?”
The two friends talk a little more, and then I hear the front door close. Isabelle’s birthday party is officially finished.
It had turned out to be quite a success too. There were at least twenty classmates, and then some friends that Isabelle works with too. The only person I thought would have shown up but didn’t was her dad. He sent a card, along with his apologies, but hardly anything else. I guess he’s still worried that showing up would endanger Isabelle again. I don’t know what or how he’s doing, but for her sake, I hoped he was able to fix his mess. There were a few times he’d call, asking for a loan, but that would only make the problem worse. It would only fuel the addiction, so I’ve never done it. Instead I’ve offered other ways to help, including therapy, which he’s turned down.
The party was set to start at noon, with a barbeque lunch that I’d put together. I may be a terrible cook, but I can work a grill. Isabelle looked amazing in a red bikini, although it seemed a little too small, the scraps of fabric hardly covering up her breasts, nipples almost poking through the stuff when she first jumped into the water. The tiny strings on either side of her hips were so dainty, so small, hardly any kind of defense against the stares of her male classmates. And there were more than a few stares. It had me growling in my chest, but I didn’t want to make a scene, didn’t want to ruin her happiness.
If even one of them had tried anything though… I wasn’t sure I had it in me not to just sweep her into my arms and carry her upstairs. The male desire to claim, to own, to mark my territory was strong. If the past two months were tough, it became downright unbearable counting down the final few hours.
And then the way she looked at me, when I took out the cake, candles dancing around in the breeze, as everyone crowded in to wish her happy birthday. I could swear she looked straight at me as everyone yelled ‘Make a wish!’ and she blew out the candles. The look of longing was so clear on her face that I had to excuse myself to grab the dishes to rein it in.
I check my watch. I should probably head down and get Isabelle ready for dinner. I made reservations for six, and the restaurant is downtown. The one disadvantage to living out in the suburbs is that there are mostly chain restaurants, and hardly anything else nearby. To get good food, I have to drive at least an hour, fight
ing against parking and traffic. I take out the dress I got especially for her and hang it on her door for her. I head downstairs and into the kitchen. Isabelle’s stacking up dishes. She’s put on this lacy thing around her waist, covering herself up a little more. She looks amazing, and it’s tempting to pull the red string bow at her back.
“Don’t worry about cleaning up,” I tell her. “It’s your birthday. You should go and get dressed.”
“Dressed? There’s more to do?” she says in surprise.
“Of course. I still haven’t given you my present. We have a reservation at L’Epicure, and a walk by the lake.”
“Sounds special,” she says, turning to face me.
“It’s supposed to be,” I say.
I allow myself a stroke of her soft cheek, gently a lock of dark hair away from her face. She smells feminine, luscious, and there’s a current of desire in her eyes that I’m dying to explore.
“I-I don’t get it,” she whispers, flustered.
“What’s there to get? I want to take you out on a romantic date tonight,” I tell her. “To celebrate your birthday.”
“But wait,” she says, shaking her head. “You can’t just, you can’t just send me all those mixed signals. That night you didn’t kiss me, I thought for sure that you weren’t interested.”
“Couldn’t be interested,” I correct gently. “You weren’t eighteen yet Isabelle, and I know it doesn’t make sense that yesterday you were off limits, and today you aren’t, but I couldn’t jeopardize our situation. I couldn’t have you ripped from my side because I wasn’t able to help myself.”
She blinks a few times fast.
“So wait, do you mean that? I don’t understand-”
I take her into my arms and she fits perfect, just like I always knew she would. Instead of explaining, I put my mouth on hers, bringing her close to me. My hand reaches to cradle her neck, my other one wrapping around her waist. Sparks of passion fly from us as I take her, my tongue brushing hungrily against her lips. I can feel her hands on my shoulders, bracing herself as her legs give way beneath her. I push her against the edge of the counter, grinding my cock into her belly, showing her just how much I want her. She mewls softly, parting her lips for me, and we’re tasting each other for the first time.