Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Since they spent most of their days lounging around the pool, I was left to study in relative peace and quiet for the most part.
Except for every once in a while when one of her little teeny bopper friends would wander their ass into the family room where I was hanging so that I could keep an eye on the coed group out back.
I ignored their jailbait asses and I guess she’d been using them as some sort of test, because I found that each time I ignored one of them, she got nicer and nicer. I have no idea what that was about, and I never paid it too much mind.
Once the honeymoon was over and the parents were back, I went back to school with no major developments between us and that was that. Though I did find myself missing the annoyance from time to time, I was fine living without that shit thank you very much.
Mom then got into the habit of mentioning her each time she called or I called her and though I never really made much of it, I found that I missed not hearing about her the few times she forgot to bring her up and would always find a way to work the conversation around to her.
I knew better, knew that I was lying to myself and why. But I convinced myself that I’d just grown used to having her name brought up that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. And mom never seemed to notice anything off about it.
And then the following year she graduated high school and decided that she wanted to attend the same university I was attending. I didn’t think much of it at the time, why would I?
It’s a damn good school after all, and I was already years ahead in my schooling, having already got my undergraduate degree and working hard on my masters. So we wouldn’t even have to cross paths on campus unless we wanted to.
But then the parents came up with this fuck stupid idea. They thought that it would be splendid for me to keep an eye on her my last year and a half and her first. If only they’d known.
Hunter
I fucked her the first time when she got out of control at a party and I had to go get her. She mouthed off at me once too often and I was trying to shut her fucking mouth up. I didn’t know it was going to lead to fucking her and busting her cherry though.
She’d only been on campus one night when that shit happened. Did I know I was going to end up fucking her? Not exactly! But maybe the signs were there.
After our first four weeks together the year before, something had changed inside of me for her, but I never let on. That’s why I’d been so hungry for news of her. But there was a reason for my reticence and playing shit cool.
At some point during those four weeks shit had changed and changed fast. Instead of the spoilt little brat I’d first met, she had become a beautiful, sexy woman in my eyes and that shit was dangerous.
Add the fact that our last few days together before I came back to campus had been some of the best times I’ve had with another human being, other than mom of course and I could feel myself falling.
Only this was no woman but a seventeen- year old girl. I kept my hands to myself and stayed away from home for the rest of that year and the next to avoid any hiccups.
I’d chosen to spend the intervening holidays elsewhere, which had hurt mom, but was the only thing to do in my predicament. I wasn’t about to touch a girl that age no matter what.
By then I was a long way from innocent myself. I had followed in my dad’s footsteps, to the chagrin of most. Dad had been a James Dean type though the guy had died long before his time. He was into fast cars and bikes and faster women, until he met mom.
Then the tattooed biker had settled down, for a while at least, but he had the road in his blood. Mom use to ride with him in the beginning until I came along, then dad tried to settle down and do the right thing.
The town never let him forget his wayward ways as they saw it though, and I imagine it must’ve been hard for him dealing with their small town prejudices.
He died when I was seven, working in the mines. A job he hated more than anything, and one that he’d made me promise more than once never to do no matter what.
It’s something that had stuck with me throughout my life, a promise made between a father and his son, a promise I had kept. I’d gone to school the way he wanted and excelled there, with an eye to the future.