**Author's Note-- Just a warning to sensitive or easily offended readers....there are going to be elements in the coming parts of this series that you might find objectionable...Fair Warning...
To Vivian-- Thanks for having the courage and candidness to share your situation...
Now on with the story.....
*
"That's the craziest shit I've ever seen!" LJ Addison's deep, chuckling voice boomed through the living room of the converted farmhouse as he watched a college football game on TV.
"No....15 years ago that was me," 35 year old Hope Andrews blushed and assured.
Cal-Berkley was playing a home game late that Saturday afternoon and LJ had leaned forward in his recliner when he saw how several of the University's more hearty and liberal students had perched themselves in a tree just outside the stadium, and were apparently living in makeshifts houses they'd built between the branches in protest of a new athletic facilities building that was supposed to be built in that space.
"Nope..that's pretty much status quo..chances are if I was still there I would be one of them," Hope half covered her face and sighed.
"It was some crazy shit to live for a month in a tree to protest a building that would eventually be built anyway," Hope thought to herself as she stared with a mix of embarrassment and pride at what she was seeing on the TV screen.
"Still," Hope continued to ponder," it wasn't nearly as crazy as the physical, emotional, if not spiritual transformation she'd put herself through over the past few months."
Staring over at LJ as he leaned back in his seat and took a sip of his beer, Hope felt a tingle crest up and down her spine. Looking out the window at several of the disadvantaged inner city kids playing out in the fresh, shadowy air of dusk, Hope welled with pride at the accomplishment of finally getting the Project House completed. Feeling the raw throb between her legs after LJ had brutally fucked her twice earlier that afternoon, first in the bed, then in the shower, another sort of pride, one much more selfish, welled inside Hope.
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Hope Simone Andrews had been born in the early Fall of 1973, the third Daughter to Len and Beth Andrews in Suburban San Francisco. Her parents were about as liberal as they come having met during the hazy Haight-Ashbury days of the mid 60's. They'd married in late 1968 and pumped out three babies in pretty rapid succession. Len had put his English degree to work in the publishing field while Beth, an artist, worked from home as she raised her Daughters.
Love was never in short supply around the Andrews' home, even though money sometimes during those early days was. Growing up during the conspicuous consumption days of the 80's, Hope thankfully had foundation of her parents' belief in peace and love combined with the teachings from church that there was inherent good in everyone. While one of her Sisters ran away and tried to make a go as an actress in LA, and the other married a Commodity Trader and was living her life in the upper crust of San Francisco's social elite, Hope on the other hand had gotten her degree from Cal-Berkley then spent the better part of her 20's and early 30's traveling the world. She'd worked with the Peace Corps in Latin and South America, done missionary work through her church in Eastern Europe and helped at several Red Cross branches around the US before she found herself back home in Northern California when her Father had fallen ill a few months earlier.
Like many people who've dedicated a good chunk of their lives making other people happy, Hope had lost some of herself in the process. Deriving so much of her own sustenance from the welfare of others, by the time she found herself back home, closer to 50 than she was to being a teenager with her biological clock ticking, Hope gradually found herself in a murky and unsettled crises of self.
For awhile she thought maybe trying to meet a man, settle down and start a family might be the elixir she needed, but frankly staring down a disease epidemic in a third world country intimidated her far less than the thought of dating.
An admittedly geeky and gangly teenager, between her intelligence and heightened sense of purpose even from a young age, Hope quickly alienated herself from the boys in her peer group. Having also seen the relationship decisions her sisters had made, one marrying rich just to make an easy life for herself and the other scurrying from one man to another just to keep a roof over her head, Hope instead buried herself in her travels and in her work, and for a long time that fed her need for companionship.
She'd lost her virginity, quite awkwardly, during her first year of college and had several brief relationships with some of the men she met on her stops abroad, but generally those men tended to be just as socially and romantically inept as she was and nothing ever really blossomed. Men rarely approached her and being the shy type when it came to such things, Hope wasn't one to make the first move.
She knew her appearance had something to do with it. While she was 100% hetero, her short, boyish hairstyle, her reluctance to wear a lot of make-up combined with her wispy frame and casual clothing led many people on first glance to just assume Hope was a lesbian. She'd thought about possibly placing an ad on a dating site or trying to meet a guy from church once she was back home, but the fire beneath her just hadn't grown hot enough yet. So much of her energy had been swallowed up tending to her terminally ill Father, once he passed Hope had an even bigger void to fill.
What she needed was another career challenge, and she found it quite by accident.
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In her spare time, Hope started doing some mentoring work with the chapter of Fellowship of Christian Athletes at her old high school. Several of the students involved also attended her church so it seemed to be a natural outlet for Hope. Being late January, several of the boys in the club played on Golden Hills' varsity basketball team and when she had a free evening on her hands, Hope made a point of attending a couple of games.