My Summer Love 1

I'm a high school shop teacher. As winter melted into spring, I decided that a rewarding summer project would be to build a wraparound porch for my house. It would add aesthetically and functionally to my home. It could sit out front on summer evenings with a beer or I could sit in the back when I wanted privacy. I started the project in early spring and spent a lot of time outdoors planning, measuring, and compiling a list of materials I'd need. Being outside, I couldn't help but notice the neighbors' comings and goings.

The neighbor down the road had a daughter who had a friend that would visit her. This friend would come and hang out, arriving in a handsome pickup truck. They'd spend hours together almost daily. She'd often let my neighbor's girl drive her truck when they went out. She was kind of cute.

As I measured and sawed and worked it occurred to me that maybe these two girls were more than friends. It was unusual to see two girls so inseparable. Yes, that must be it, I reasoned; they're special friends, which only made me more interested in them.

Then the pickup truck stopped arriving. Three weeks went by and no truck. They must be having a spat or perhaps they've broken up. This cute girl had almost left my mind when I noticed the truck was there again. I saw her come out of her friend's house soon after and drive off. She remained looking straight ahead and seemed in a hurry. Her reconciliation efforts had failed.

The girl in the pickup truck arrived no more. As I labored through the spring, I found myself missing her. Then one day out of the clear blue the truck came lumbering up the road. I had to admire her persistence. She got out and went into her friend's house. This time she stayed for hours. When she came out we caught each other's attention. I gave her a knowing smile that expressed my happiness that she was back in good graces. She returned a fleeting, shy glance that included a happy smile.

A few days later I had some evening guests over and at the end of the night I stepped outside to see them to their car. There was the pickup truck with the cutie getting into it. We looked at each other over the distance, and I waved to her. She immediately returned my wave accompanied by her cute smile. I liked her.

~~~

School was finally out! I could focus on my project and finish it. The next day while working on my porch I was immersed in my measuring and sawing.

"Hi," said a voice that came from behind me.

Her truck was parked where it always was; for once I hadn't noticed her pull up. I must be slipping.

"Oh, hi," I stammered, looking up.

"Your porch is coming along nicely. I've been watching your progress."

"Thanks. Yes, it's been some hard work but I'm finally getting somewhere with it."

"It looks nice. Do you think you'll be done before the summer is over?"

"I'm not sure. Progress has been slower than I anticipated, but I hope so. I'd like to enjoy it in the nice weather."

She took a few steps around the completed part. I was still on my knees in front of my contractor's saw, so I was looking up at her. She wore flip-flops like everyone seems to these days. She had graceful feet that led to nice calves and thighs. Her shorts were not too short and she wore a loose top. I could see no tattoos or piercings. I already knew from prior observation that she was slim with a cute face and nice hair. I judged about nineteen.

"My friend isn't home and she isn't answering her phone," she said, distractedly rubbing a board.

"It's probably on vibrate and she doesn't know you're calling," I offered. Her frown revealed that she thought my explanation was ludicrous.

"No," was her simple reply. There was a brief silence.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Mary Ellen. What's yours?"

"Christopher." I stood and gently shook her hand. "Welcome to my home, Mary Ellen. It's nice to have company."

And it was. I had no designs on this girl; she was young enough to be my daughter. I felt a bit sorry for her due to the breakup. I had watched her try so hard to get her girl, all to no avail. I got the feeling she was just being used and it aroused a protective instinct in me.

"Stay a while Mary Ellen. We can talk while I work."

"I can help you, you know. Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean that I've never swung a hammer or used a table saw," she said in the rebellious manner of a teenager.

"Okay, you're on, but not today Mary Ellen. I can't let you work the way you're dressed and in flip-flops. If your offer is serious, come tomorrow ready to work."

"I will," she said assuredly, with a touch of her cute defiance.

She stayed a while longer and we talked about her pickup truck. I told her I admired it and that it looked professional grade. I made no mention of her relationship with my neighbor's girl. We prattled on until she said it was time to go.

"I'll see you in the morning," she said over her shoulder as she left. "And I take my coffee with milk, no sugar," she ordered in her saucy insolence. I wanted to adopt her.

~~~

Sure enough, the next morning Mary Ellen showed up. I was already outside fitting a tread on a joist when she parked in front of my house. She was dressed in carpenter's jeans and work boots, and walked up with confidence. This girl was just as pretty dressed for home improvement as she was for hanging with her friends.

"Good morning, Chris."

"Good morning, Mary Ellen," I said, staring. "Thanks for coming by. Oh, your coffee is ready. Go ahead inside. It's on the table."

"First things first," she declared as she went inside to collect her cup. She came back out, sipping. She walked around surveying the job like a foreman.

"Okay, I see what you're up to. You've already cut the angles on the treads. We'll lay these treads across. I brought a cordless screwdriver. It's in my truck. I'll go get it."

She returned with a carpenter's tool box filled with locking pliers, a hammer, a pry bar, a combination square, a speed square, carpenter's pencils, a plumb bob, a thirty foot measuring tape, eye protection, and her cordless driver.

"You came well prepared," I said. "Have you done this kind of work before?"

"Yeah," she said, fastening her tool belt around her slim waist.

"Where?"

"With my grandfather. We built some decks, porches, and benches. I've done some framing."

"I'm glad to have your help," I said as she produced her screwdriver.

"I'll drill pilot holes for the screws. Where's your drill?"

"It's in the garage."

She retrieved it and went to work.

I eyed her guardedly as she drilled, wary of her ruining the pieces of wood I had cut, but she seemed to know what she was doing. She held the drill with confidence and wielded it with finesse. We talked as we worked, and she told me that she had three brothers. She lived with her mom and a younger brother; her parents were divorced. She didn't see her father much, maybe once a month. We worked all morning, and then broke for lunch.

"If you drive, I'll buy," I said, pushing two twenties into her hand.

"Sure," she said with a smile.

She drove off and soon returned, sandwiches in hand. We chatted as we ate. She revealed that she wasn't happy at home. She absolutely couldn't stand the thought of her mother and her new boyfriend sleeping together in the next room. Her facial expression indicated the extent of her disgust. She saw him as nothing but an interloper and wanted him out. She didn't much like her father's girlfriend either, but that was less of an issue. The subject of her friendship with the neighbor's girl was never brought up, nor was there a mention of a boyfriend. We went back to work.

"What do you do for a living, Chris?"

"I'm a high school shop teacher."

"I never saw you in school."

"I don't teach here, I teach at a school fifteen miles from here."

"Oh," she said, her eyebrows slightly knit. "Summers off are nice," she added.

"They sure are," I agreed. "Everyone I know is at work right now. I'm at home doing my own thing."

After a while she inquired about my marital status.

"I've never been married. I came close once or twice, but it didn't happen."

"Smart man. What's the sense, anyway?" She didn't ask about a girlfriend, and I volunteered no information.

About an hour later her friend drove up the road. She eyed Mary Ellen's pickup truck in my driveway and stopped and stared. She parked and came over.

"Hi Mary Ellen," she said, totally ignoring me.

"Hi," Mary Ellen replied indifferently, not bothering to look up from the board she was holding.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm working. What does it look like?" she replied, glaring, her eyes piercing. Her stare was cold steel and her eyes were as frigid as arctic ice. She turned her back on the girl and positioned the board for fastening.

"Want to come over later?" solicited the little user.

"I'll be busy here all day," Mary Ellen replied tersely. "After that I'm going home."

The skanky little tart stood there speechless for a moment. "Maybe some other time," was all she could suggest.

Mary Ellen stayed focused on her work, giving no reply. The little bitch, thoroughly humiliated, turned and scurried off. I looked up to watch her in her flight and the image of a dog with its tail between its legs entered my mind.

My admiration for Mary Ellen increased at that moment, along with my protective instinct. I stepped into my house, and standing in the doorway, I called her in. She put down her screwdriver and entered. I took her in my arms and held her. She let out a sob as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"It's okay, Mary Ellen," I assured her. "You handled yourself well. You'll feel better soon." I produced a tissue and dabbed the tear on her cheek. "Open wide," I said, and gently dried the tears in her eyes. "If it was meant to be, it will happen," I said soothingly as I gave her a hug. My consolation seemed to help; she took a few deep breaths and recovered.

"Thanks," she said, and paused. "What are we doing standing here? We're wasting daylight. Let's get back to work." She turned and stepped outside. I liked this girl more and more.

~~~

Mary Ellen returned the next day and the day after that. We made great progress. After three days of hard work I invited her to stay for dinner. It was the least I could do. She readily accepted my offer.

"You can take a shower while I prepare dinner. Wash the sawdust off." I gave her clean towels and a pair of sweatpants and a shirt to wear.

While Mary Ellen showered I prepared a quick pesto and warmed some water for pasta. She came out of the shower as fresh as a daisy and as pretty as a picture. Her wet hair hung down on my oversized shirt.

"Ah, I feel better," she exclaimed.

"You look better, too, even though the clothes are too big."

"I'm comfortable," she declared with a glowing smile.

"Let me take a quick shower, too. I need it," I said.

"Yeah, you do," she teased.

After my shower I boiled the pasta. I felt a little funny having a nineteen year old woman for a dinner guest but I found Mary Ellen easy to be with. It was that bond that forms between two people who work together. She had proved herself capable as a carpenter and as a worker. She did all I asked of her, she never requested a break, and was cheerful the whole time, with the exception of when her friend approached her. Mary Ellen had worked up a good appetite and dug right in.

"What kind of spaghetti is this?"

"It's not spaghetti; they're rigatoni. And the sauce is pesto."

"What's pesto?"

"It's crushed basil leaves, pine nuts, olive oil, parmesan cheese, and garlic."

"It's good!" she said approvingly.

"Take more. You've earned a good meal." She did.

After dinner we lingered and talked a while, and then Mary Ellen rose to leave.

"When do we resume work?" she asked.

"I'll be busy with an errand tomorrow, Friday. We'll continue Monday." I had the feeling she wanted to work through the weekend, but my weekends were occupied.

"Okay," she said, a little forlornly.

I walked her to her truck and thanked her as she left.

"I couldn't have made this much progress without your help, Mary Ellen. Thank you so much. You're a pleasure to work with."

She gave a contented, proud smile. I think she wanted a kiss. I wanted to kiss her, but I didn't.

The next week we put in four days. After the last day of work she went to her truck and returned with a cooler. She pulled out a six-pack of beer. "Want one?" she asked, holding up a tall boy. It looked so inviting.

"I don't drink," I lied. I had no intention of drinking alcohol with an underage girl. Her cute face fell and she returned the bottles to the cooler, looking chastised.

"Let's have dinner instead," I suggested. I prepared something easy and after dinner we went back outside to inspect our work. Her friend passed by in the car. Mary Ellen saw her coming and turned her back toward the road. We lingered, talking. She stayed until dark, and seemed reluctant to leave. With no invitation forthcoming from me, she decided it was time to go. I liked Mary Ellen and enjoyed her company, and I was a bit sorry to see her go, but it wouldn't be right to invite her to stay.

The next week work resumed, and we finished the entire project after four days. It came out beautifully. The carpentry was superb, if I say so myself, and the spar varnish made it look richer yet. Mary Ellen and I gloated in our triumph. Of course I invited her for dinner. She stayed on and after dinner went to her truck and returned with a backpack.

"I don't want to go home tonight," she exclaimed with a look of pleading on her face.

I figured it would come to this sooner or later.

"Won't your mother worry about you?"

"No, she's too wrapped up with Mr. Wonderful to care about me." I felt sorry for her, even though I felt she was exaggerating a bit.

"I have a spare bedroom. You can sleep there tonight," I relented.

"Thanks," she said with feigned appreciation. I knew that wasn't exactly what she wanted.

"But I want you to call your mother to tell her that you'll be safe."

"I don't need to."

"Do it anyway. A condition of your staying here is calling your mom to tell her you're safe. Lie to her if you want to; that's your business, but call her," I insisted. I felt as though I was giving an ultimatum to a child. Maybe I was. She called and stayed.

~~~

The late night hours brought a hammering summer rainstorm with lightning that turned night to daylight and thunderclaps that shook the house. I heard a faint knock on my bedroom door.

"What is it, Mary Ellen?" She eased the door open a crack and her head appeared from behind it. Her face showed tension.

"I'm scared, Chris," she said pleadingly.

I threw open the covers on the other side of the bed. She scampered in and hopped in next to me. I covered her up and took her in my arms. She pressed her butt into my groin and her hair was in my face. I hugged her and fell back asleep as the storm raged outside.

I awoke in the morning, still in this spoon position, with Mary Ellen still in my arms. She slept as peacefully as a child. Holding Mary Ellen as she slept roused a feeling of serenity in me that I had never felt before. Her breaths were tranquil sighs and her tummy expanded and contracted with her breathing. Her young body was a joy to hold.

I stirred and she woke. She turned to me, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and smiled. "That was some storm last night."

"Yes, it was," I replied sheepishly. I was a bit ashamed of having slept with such a young girl.

Mary Ellen rose. Her long hair fell on her back, and I couldn't help but notice her cute behind in her shorts. She turned to me.

"Stay in bed. I'll make breakfast." Her nipples showed plainly through her T shirt and it was obvious she wore no panties.

A flood of mixed emotions washed over me. For the past three weeks I had viewed Mary Ellen as a child, albeit mature, but still a child. She was my work helper and my young friend. I carried no desire for her; my male instinct was to protect her and to provide for her. I wanted to make her mine, but in a platonic and paternal fashion. Now, after she had spent the night in my bed and in my arms, I viewed her in a new light. Mary Ellen was young, beautiful, and sexy. There was much to admire about her. She was a flower that hadn't fully bloomed yet, but having gotten to know her these past weeks, her innate beauty became obvious to me. A primal urge welled up from deep inside me to take this young, strong, lovely girl as a worthy mate. I struggled to suppress this urge.

Mary Ellen was busy with pans and dishes when I entered the kitchen. She was making scrambled eggs and toast. Her bare feet padded the wooden floor and her cute tush swayed with her movements. Her breasts danced playfully. "The coffee is ready," she explained. "I poured you a cup."

"Thanks," I replied, trying not to stare.

We ate, talking easily. "I hope I don't cause turmoil between you and your neighbor," she said between bites, obliquely referring to her friendship with the neighbor's girl.

"My neighbor's feelings are a matter of indifference to me. You're my guest and I'm glad you're here. You helped me a lot with the porch. It would have taken me another month to finish without your capable help." Mary Ellen glowed proudly.

"Let's take our coffee outside and enjoy the porch," I suggested.

We rose and stepped out the back door. The rear of the house offered plenty of privacy so there was little danger of us being seen in our casual state of dress. In the wake of last night's storm there was calm. We spent a quiescent morning listening to the birds sing as a gentle breeze rustled the leaves and wafted summer scents into the air.

Alas, it was time for Mary Ellen to leave. She kissed my lips as she thanked me for my hospitality. I kissed her back and included a hug. She waved back with a smile as she turned onto the road and drove off.

~~~

The next Monday Mary Ellen returned, knapsack in hand. The tomboy look was gone. She wore no carpenter's jeans now; she wore her flip-flops and shorts. Her button-up top was untucked and she wore makeup and earrings. Her hair was free and prominent. Her red fingernails matched her red toenails. She was a girly girl again, young, uninhibited, and at the apex of her beauty. She entered, phone in hand, ready to call mom. There was no way I could resist her and I invited her to stay. After dinner we sat and talked, enjoying each other's company. After clearing the table Mary Ellen availed herself of my shower. She emerged fresh and clean. I followed with a shower, too, and when I came out I found Mary Ellen in my bedroom.

"It's comfortable in here," she said simply. She proceeded to remove her top and her shorts. She stood naked before me. She was beautiful. She approached me and hugged me. We kissed. She pulled my T shirt off and made quick work of removing my pants. We ogled each other in our nakedness. We hugged again and fell into bed.

I was as hard as granite and she took me in her mouth. She started modestly, and then challenged herself to proceed further. She methodically took more of me until her lips wrapped around my base. She held herself there momentarily, savoring her triumph, then rode all the way back up. Watching her repeat her victory over physical improbabilities again and again, each time outstretching her lips for that last millimeter, hastened my finish. She held her position down low as I expended the fruits of her labor. Her audible gulps concluded her accomplishment.

I needed a few minutes rest, but Mary Ellen was already mounting me. I put my hand on her cute butt and pulled her forward. She moved forward tentatively and sat on her heels.

"Sit on me, Mary Ellen," I said as I continued to prod her into position. "Put your feet flat on the bed."