Robby

Chapter 1: Christmas

Laura Miller idly tapped the plastic amber pill bottle with her freshly lacquered, pink fingernails. She had a lot of emotionally charged capital invested in that small container of Nembutal. She was sitting at the table in her neat-as-a pin kitchen. In addition to the white-capped bottle of pills, a packet of photographs and a long stemmed glass filled with Blue Nun sat on the table in front of her. The photographs had been taken last Christmas, a year ago tomorrow. They were the last images she had of her husband and daughter. A stupid drunk driver had made her new digital camera a relic three days later by ramming at high speed into the side of her husband's car and flattening the passenger compartment. Seth had been bringing Becky home from daycare while Laura was at her doctor's office getting a precautionary checkup. Ironically, she and Seth had recently decided it was time for another child.

The memory of that day was seared into her memory as if it had been chiseled in granite...

Laura was home, fretting about what could be holding up her usually punctual husband, when the doorbell rang. She answered the door and knew immediately that something was terribly wrong. Standing on the porch were an uncomfortable pair of men with grim visages - a state trooper, and Father O'Banyon.

"Mrs. Miller?" asked the trooper.

Laura only nodded her head up and down, her vocal cords suddenly useless.

"Mrs. Miller, there has been an accident and it's my sad duty to inform you that your husband and daughter did not survive."

Laura looked at him numbly, shaking her head back and forth in denial. No way could that be true; the daycare center was only four miles from their house. She looked at the parish priest; the daycare center was housed in his church's annex.

"I am so sorry, Laura," Father O'Banyon said. "A drunken teenager in a stolen car ran the stop sign at Ridgewood at over eighty miles an hour. Seth and Becky died instantly; I administered last rites to them both. They died in a state of grace," the priest continued, crossing himself.

Laura sagged against the doorjamb, the blood rushing from her head. Father O'Banyon helped her almost limp body into the house. In fewer than five minutes, her idyllic existence had been replaced by a purgatory that even Dante could not have imagined.

Laura's mother and father flew in from Atlanta the day after the accident and took care of the arrangements. Laura was in a sleepless fog, unable to function. Her wonderful neighbors streamed in and out of the house, unobtrusively bringing food and tidying up.

Laura made it through the funeral somehow. She drew upon her inner strength and tried to move forward. Her progress was fitful as she pushed the burden of living up the steep slope of her mountain of grief. Laura went back to work the first week of February, her damaged soul tightly concealed in the daily routine. Her coworkers at the bank gave her plenty of space, while making themselves available if she needed to talk to someone - which she mostly did not.

After six months, she was recovered enough to vacation with her parents on an Alaskan cruise. The gentle rocking, scenery, and serenity of the cruise helped even more. She returned to Orlando thinking she might have reason for hope. After all, she was only twenty-seven, intelligent, and beautiful by any standard. By Labor Day, she was thinking about dating again. In October, she took the plunge and accepted a date with the brother-in-law of one of her coworkers. The date was a disaster, but not because of her. The guy was an egotistical, arrogant asshole who thought she should drop on her back and spread just because he had asked her out. He was wrong, and she most certainly did not.

She had two more dates with different men that garnered much the same results. Oh well, at least dating, even bad dating, had gotten her out of the house and back among the living, she rationalized. Overall, though, she thought that she was going to make it.

Then the holidays hit. She flew to Atlanta for Thanksgiving with her folks; her brother and sister were there with their spouses and kids for the traditional family get together. Seth had loved Thanksgiving; he would stuff himself and sit in a stupor in front of the television watching football games. She used to chide him about being such a slug, even though she secretly thought it was cute.

Back in Orlando, things really started to go downhill for Laura, as everyday memories of the holiday traditions she and Seth had started haunted her. And so it went, until she reached her present position of desperate decisive action. Laura was thirty pink pills away from never having to worry about grief again.

Laura took a slow sip of wine and spread the photographs from last Christmas onto the table for one last look. She smiled at the one of Seth pushing a joyous Becky on her new tricycle. She touched Seth's face on the photo of him grinning goofily as he held up the ugly sweater his Aunt Bertha had given him. Enough reminiscing, Laura thought as she reached for the bottle of pills; it was time to get this show on the road.

She was pressing down on the childproof cap when the doorbell rang. She contemplated just ignoring it, and then realized that whoever was there might conclude something was wrong and call the police. She got up and padded to the door in her slippered feet. Laura answered the door and smiled in spite of herself. Of all the people who could be darkening her doorstep, her visitor was the one person she did not mind seeing one last time.

Standing on the stoop was Robby Davis, a neighbor and probably Laura's best real friend. Robby was Robert Jefferson Davis, newly eighteen; he was the pride of the neighborhood. Robby was the son you wanted, or wanted dating your daughter. He was a polite, well-mannered honor student, Eagle Scout, and star baseball player. In addition, Robert Jefferson Davis was completely, totally, hopelessly, head over heels in love with Laura Miller.

"Wow, Mrs. Miller, you look beautiful in that dress. Are you going out?" Robby asked.

Laura had spent some time on her appearance for this evening. She wanted to be looking her best when her cold body was found. She was wearing a dark pink wrap dress; her makeup had been expertly applied and her corn silk blonde hair brushed until it shone like spun gold. She had carefully bathed and shaved her legs but decided against confining pantyhose or stockings.

"Thank you, Robby. Nope, no plans. You look pretty good yourself. Hot date tonight?" Laura teased.

Robby had put some thought into his wardrobe as well. He had dug out some gray Dockers and a nice burgundy shirt. He had eradicated the few whiskers he had on his chin and upper lip and slapped on some Drakkar aftershave. In addition, he wore a brass-buttoned blue blazer to complete his look.

"No, ma'am. I just thought you shouldn't be alone tonight," Robbie said simply.

Laura's eyes went big and round when he said that; he was the sweetest boy she had ever met. She knew it was his wonderfully sweet nature to care about people that way, but she was still touched. A nice conversation and another glass of wine and she would be mellow when she shuffled off this mortal coil.

"Tell you what; I'll invite you in if you'll stop calling me Mrs. Miller. My name is Laura; Mrs. Miller sounds like I'm an old maid. If you want, I'll call you Rob or Robert like everyone else."

Laura was one of only two people who still called him Robby and, truth be told, he liked it. He liked it very much. The way she pronounced it, Rob-bie, always sent a shiver up his spine.

That's ok, Mrs. -- er -- Laura, you can call me Robby whenever you want."

Laura smiled at his eager earnestness as she stepped aside so he could walk through the door. His scent wafted to her as he passed. She knew Robbie had a crush on her and thought it was cute. She did not tease or lead him on, but she did pay him attention and treat him like an adult. Robby really listened to her when she talked and was genuinely interested in what she had to say. They also both liked a lot of the same things, classic rock, Egyptology, and baseball, for instance. Laura let it slide that he sometimes talked to her breasts or stared at her trim butt and legs. His direct admiration was so sincere she could not help being flattered and not at all offended.

Laura seated him on the couch and went to fetch him a drink. On impulse, she poured him a glass of wine as she topped off her own glass. She was startled that the wine bottle was empty. She carried the glasses back to the living room, handed Robby his, and sat on the couch next to, but not quite touching him. Robby surprised her by lightly clinking his glass to hers.

"Merry Christmas, Laura," he said in a deep steady voice. His eyes followed her every move as her lips touched her glass and she sipped.

Laura returned the toast and looked closely at her young friend. 'When had he grown up to be such a good looking young man?' she wondered. He had to be close to six feet tall now and his chest was broad and thick. Even his voice had changed; it was deeper and more masculine. 'My buddy must be breaking a lot of high school hearts,' she thought. She mentally winced at the thought of him sweating with some vacuous high school gum-chomping hottie.

Robby broke her out of her reverie by reaching into the pocket of the jacket he had tossed on the back of the couch.

"I have something for you," he said quietly.

He handed her a small rectangular box wrapped in gold foil paper.

"Robbie, you shouldn't have," she admonished as she took the small package.

She slipped her manicured pink nail under the tape and neatly removed the gift-wrap. Then she flipped open the lid of the black velveteen jeweler's box. She looked down into the box, then quickly back up at Robby. The box contained a beautiful gold filigree chain with a dainty oval disk in the center. 'Laura' was engraved on the disk in a flowing script. She carefully took the chain out of the box and fingered the intricate design. She looked at him and beamed a megawatt smile from the core of her being.

"This is so beautiful, Robby; I've never seen anything like it," she said.

"It's an ankle bracelet," he said. Then, blushing furiously, he added, "I wanted you to have something from me that you could wear all the time. Please read the back."

Laura looked at him quizzically then flipped over the disk. 'Love RJD' the inscription said. It was just too sweet and too unexpected. Laura looked at Robby and broke into tears. He had not expected that reaction and he was crushed that he had made her cry.

"I'm sorry, Laura; I did not mean to offend you," he said, voice quavering.

"That's not why I'm crying, silly," she said. "I love it; I'm crying because you went to all this trouble for me. Put it on for me please."

Robby knelt on the floor and put her dainty foot on his knee. He fumbled with the clasp for a second before he finally got it hooked. 'Geez, even her ankles are beautiful,' Robby thought. Laura held her leg straight out turning her foot this way and that, the disk and chain sparkled in the lamplight. She was strangely proud that she had just gotten her legs nice and smooth for his touch and his gift. Robby sat back down next to her on the couch. Laura turned to him, put her arms around his neck, and hugged him.

"It's perfect, Robby," she whispered in his ear.

Robby held her in his arms and savored the feel of her. She fit against him, intimately congruent; it seemed as if every atom of their bodies were perfectly aligned. Finally, Laura leaned back in his arms; she was about to thank him again when their eyes met. Suddenly, everything else but his eyes ceased to be. It was the moment poets try to describe, the instant where two souls connect. 'It must be the wine', she thought as his lips slowly descended on hers.

Robby's lips were soft and gentle; his kiss thrilled her to her toes. It was the most natural thing in the world to open her lips and accept his tongue. What was that moaning as their tongues met in her mouth? Was that her? Laura had never been an overly passionate woman. Sure, she had enjoyed making love with Seth, but it was mostly because of the closeness the act symbolized. They had been a modern day anomaly, two very Catholic virgins, when they wed. Neither had been adventurous in their shared bed; she had simply taken care of Seth's needs and did not think too hard about her own. Now, here she was on the couch making out with an eighteen-year-old boy, her body suddenly on fire.

Robby broke the kiss and pulled back to look at her. Laura slowly opened her eyes and met his gaze. His look was pure adulation; Laura could not recall anyone every looking at her so lovingly. She reached up and touched his face tenderly.

"Robby, we shou..." was all she managed to say before his lips descended on her again.

Robby slid his hand from her back and captured her breast through her dress. Laura gasped into his mouth. 'I surely need to put a stop to this,' she thought. But it felt so good, her protest died on the tip of her hardening nipple. Robby reached down and unfastened the single button that held the wrap dress together then pushed the material aside. His touch on her naked flesh felt as if molten lava were being poured onto her skin. Robby was not new to this she realized as he expertly opened her bra with one hand. But that was fine with her as he built on his expertise and palmed her naked breast. Robby released her lips and dipped his head to capture her turgid nipple.

"Oh, Robby; we shouldn't be doing this," she finally weakly protested.

Robby released her nipple, straightened up, and looked her in the eye again.

"Yes, we should, Laura. I love you; you are all I think, dream, or care about."

Once again, he had stunned her. His steady tone left no doubt about his sincerity, but what was shocking was the realization that he had said exactly what she had wanted to hear. Laura nodded and let her head fall back against the couch. She held his head and guided it back to her breast for whatever adoration he had in mind.

Robby never paused in his worship of her medium sized, perfectly shaped breasts as they quietly worked in unison to free her of her now-superfluous dress and bra. Stripped to her panties, she gracefully laid supine on the couch. Robby stood up and shed his shirt. Laura's breath caught in her throat as his muscular, albeit almost hairless chest was exposed. She held up her arms to him in silent entreaty as he kicked off his loafers. He lay down on top of her and kissed her. The feel of his naked skin on hers felt indescribably good and totally appropriate. Robby removed her embarrassingly wet white lace panties as they kissed. She could feel her vagina pumping out its secretions as it spasmed involuntarily. Robby began to kiss his way down her torso. It was a new experience for her; she was steadily moaning as he worshipfully lavished attention on her body.

Suddenly, Robby's face was between her thighs and his lips were on her vagina. She had heard about oral sex and, quite frankly, had never figured out what all the fuss was about. She thought the whole concept was slightly repugnant. She was about to push his head away when his quivering tongue found her clitoris. Her hands on his head reversed direction and pulled him closer to her groin as a lightening bolt of pleasure shot through her. Her moaning increased in volume and pitch as he captured her pink nubbin and lashed it with his tongue tip. Her moans turned to a high-pitched squeal as the most intense orgasm of her life seized her. She thrashed about on the couch as if she had been electrocuted, then every muscle in her body seem to tense at once.

"Oh, Robbiiee," she screamed.

Robby was gently kissing her thighs as little aftershocks caused her to twitch. Gradually, her body relaxed.

"Make love to me now, Robby. I need to feel you inside me," she begged.

Robby stood up and quickly doffed the rest of his clothing. His penis sprang straight out when he pulled off his briefs. Laura reached out and captured his phallus in her hand. It was big, but not overly so, and perfectly shaped with a slight upward curvature. Laura released him and he crawled between her thighs. She watched with a surprising detachment as he swiped his flared helmet up and down her sparsely haired slit to spread and open the fleshy lips of her love tunnel. Finally, he was fully lubricated, seated squarely at her entrance, and pushing into her. She was so wet that he slipped right in. When he bottomed out at the end of the initial stroke, Laura's eyes rolled back in her head. She had never been so turned on or so full in her life. She realized she had been holding her breath and released it with a hiss as if he had penetrated and released her lungs to work once more.

Laura pulled her knees back towards her chest to make more room for her young lover as he increased the speed of his strokes. The upper side of his shaft was riding deliciously against her g-spot and each time his hard body contacted her clit it caused her to soar towards another climax. She could not help herself from digging her nails in his back as she hit her peak. She wailed out his name again as she came. Her clinching vagina caused him to erupt. The feel of his semen splashing against her womb sent her even higher into now-speechless happiness.

They made love twice more that night in her bed, with the same results. She was eventually worried about him getting into trouble for being gone so long and out so late but he said he had it covered. Somehow, his self-assurance was really all she needed.

At two in the morning, with reality re-emerging, she slipped out from under his arm and out of the bed. Throwing on her robe, she tiptoed out of the room and walked to the kitchen. She picked the bottle of pills up from the table and pried the cap off. She poured the pills into her hand and stared at the small pink triangles in fascination. She walked to the sink and pulled a glass out of the cabinet, then turned on the tap. With one last look at the Nembutal, she upended her hand into the sink and watched them swirl and wash down the drain; then she poured herself a glass of cold water and enjoyed it with quiet calm.

Between love rounds two and three, she and Robby had talked for a long time about their relationship. She had professed that she loved him but was resigned to them not having a real future because of their age difference. Robby, however, did not feel that way. He said they would work it out and find some way to be together.

"After all," he told her, "Christmas, is a time for miracles."

"Amen to that," Laura said to herself as she rewound the conversation in her head for the tenth time. She was living proof that love could fix just about anything as she happily walked back to the bedroom, dropped her robe, and reentered the warmth of their bed wearing only her shiny new ankle chain.