Discovering Christina

It only took a few weeks for our pledge of never being apart again to go by the wayside. I was working at my desk one afternoon when Christina burst through my office door. She was smiling and her beautiful eyes danced with excitement.

"I just finished talking to Alicia on the phone," she began breathlessly, "and she told me that the Gang of Four is getting together for a weekend of girl fun!"

"The Gang of Four? Who the hell are they?"

"Well," she smiled, "there's Alicia . . . and Brooke . . . and Janice. My best friends from college."

"That's only three," I said, stating the obvious. "The fourth wouldn't happen to be you, would it?"

"Well, it just might be," she giggled. "What would you say if it was?"

"I guess I'd say have a good time with the girls," I laughed. And with that, Christina jumped onto my lap, nearly tipping my chair over. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately.

She broke the kiss and hurried on to explain the plans for the upcoming weekend. "We're going to meet in Dallas, rent a hotel room that's too expensive, eat too much, drink too much, dance too much, and talk too much," she laughed.

"Just who's going to be involved in this dancing?" I asked, feeling a tinge of jealousy.

"Oh, mostly just us," she responded offhandedly. "We'll just go to a club, listen to some music, and if the mood strikes us, we'll dance."

"With each other?" I asked, realizing that I was starting to sound more like her father than her lover.

"Sure," she said, "girls always dance together. At least the girls my age do." I wasn't sure if that last statement was a playful jab at the difference in our ages or a sign of frustration at my questioning. Finally, after a long pause, she looked at me seriously. "Well, it wouldn't be out of the question for some guys to ask us to dance, either," her voice trailing off.

With those words, that uneasy sensation in the pit of my stomach began to feel like a big rock. I felt like blurting out, "Hell no, you're not going. I don't want some guy dancing with you and god knows what else, when you've had too much to drink!" But I knew that reaction would go nowhere with my young, free-spirited girlfriend.

So, instead, I bit my tongue and managed a weak smile. "A guy would have to be crazy not to dance with someone as pretty as you. Just make sure all the dancing is done in the vertical position."

"Oh, shit," she huffed. "I'm not going down there to screw someone, if that's what you're implying."

"The only thing I'm implying," I responded softly, "Is that I'm going to miss you and . . . yes . . . probably worry about you. But not that way. I know you'll have a great time."

And with that I pulled her close again and kissed her deeply. Then I kissed her again . . . and again. I wanted her to remember those kisses while she was away.

********

It was the longest weekend of my life. I did little besides sit around and stew about what was going on in Dallas. Christina had called when she checked into the hotel to let me know she had arrived safely late Friday afternoon. Since then, I hadn't heard a word. I grabbed my phone a dozen times, thinking I would call her to see how things were going. But I somehow held my worry and jealousy in check and resisted the urge. I knew she would not like my checking up on her.

But by late Sunday afternoon, I was worried. Not so much about what had gone on over the weekend, though that certainly was part of it. I was worried that Christina was not back, and it was already 5:30. When my cell phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin. But when I saw the call was from Christina, I wasted no time in answering.

"Hi, baby," I began, hoping my voice didn't betray my worry, "are you nearly home?"

"Not exactly," came the answer—certainly not the one I was looking for.

"What's that mean?" I'm sure my worry was beginning to show.

"Well, it means I'm still in Dallas."

"And what are you doing still in Dallas?" My worry was now mixed with irritation.

"We decided to stay another night."

"Doesn't anyone have to work on Monday?" I shot back impatiently.

"Well, Janice and Brooke do, so they've already left. Alicia doesn't and I don't have class Monday, so we decided to stay another night." There was something in the tone of Christina's voice that told me there was something else going on.

"And what are you going to do with that extra day . . . and night?"

"Really nothing tonight," she responded, but again, that slightly worrying inflection. "Tomorrow we'll shop for most of the day. But don't worry, I'll be home by dark." Then she let me know she was through answering my questions. "Is that okay, Daddy?" she said in this little girl voice.

"Very funny," I grumbled, knowing that this conversation was going no further. "I'll see you tomorrow." I started to tell her to have a good time, but I was quite certain she would--with our without my approval.

********

I don't mind admitting that I didn't sleep much that Sunday night. I tossed and turned, playing and replaying all kinds of scenarios in my head about what Christina was doing in Dallas and why she wanted to stay longer. Of course, nearly all of them involved her and some other guy, much closer to her age, and probably much more exciting.

The light was just beginning to stream through the skylight over the bed when I heard the door to my loft open, then close again quietly. I quickly tried to think whether I'd locked the door the night before. I'd certainly been distracted enough to forget it. Just when my fight or flight response was about to kick in, I saw Christina peek into the bedroom.

"Ross, are you awake?" she said softly.

"Actually, I've been awake most of the night. What are you doing here at 6 a.m.? I thought you were going to come back this evening?

"Well," she began hesitantly. "I just missed you so much, and Alicia and I had shopped as much as we wanted to, and . . . I needed to be back here with you," her voice trailed off.

"I'm so glad you're here, baby," I whispered. "I've missed you, too, and I'm happy you're home." With that, I got out of bed, took her in my arms and held her close, kissing her cheeks, her forehead, and finally, her mouth very lightly. "Come to bed. You must be exhausted," I told her, taking her hand and not even giving her the chance to take off her jeans and top. I lay down and she snuggled up with her back to me. I lifted her hair from her neck and began to kiss her. At the same time, I reached around and ran my hand lightly over her breast.

"Ross," she whispered, "is it okay if we just lie here for a little while?"

"Sure . . . I guess so," I responded hesitantly, feeling that sense of worry creeping in again. I'd missed being with her the past three days and wanted badly to make love. I couldn't understand why she didn't feel the same. "Just rest, sweetie. I know you need some sleep."

Even with her lying there next to me, holding her tightly, I could sense a distance I hadn't felt before with Christina. It didn't take a genius to know that something had happened in Dallas that she felt bad about. Or at least, something she didn't want me to know about. There was no way I could get to sleep with those kinds of thoughts running through my head.

As the room grew lighter with the sunrise, I glanced up at the dresser that sat against the wall opposite the bed. I'd often enjoyed looking in the mirror as Christina and I made love. I loved to watch her breasts bounce and sway as she rode me, and I especially enjoyed watching the expression on her face as I took her from behind. It was like having our own personal porn video.

But this time, I could see in the mirror that Christina's eyes were open, too. It was clear that she wasn't sleeping any better than I was. She was just sort of staring off into space with this inscrutable expression on her face.

Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. "Is there something we need to talk about?"

I felt her body tense a little at my question, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she sat up on the edge of the bed, her back to me. I reached over and touched her shoulder and she immediately got up and disappeared into the bathroom.

At that point, I knew there was something we needed to talk about. I just didn't know when Christina would be ready.

I lay there in bed for fifteen minutes or so, my hands behind my head, staring up at the skylight. I knew I should get up and get ready for work, but was certain I wouldn't get anything done for worrying about what was up with Christina. Just as I was about to drag myself out of bed, she emerged from the bathroom, still wearing the same jeans and top from before, but with her hair and makeup in much better shape. She no longer looked as if she'd just climbed out of bed.

"What's up?" I asked, puzzled at what might come next.

"I want to go for a ride," she responded firmly. "You have 15 minutes to get ready." With that, she turned and disappeared into the living room, leaving me to decide whether to force a confrontation there and then, or go along for the ride. I decided to go along.

I got out of bed, showered quickly, brushed my teeth and threw on a shirt and pair of blue jeans. I didn't bother to shave, knowing I was right up against my 15 minute deadline. I ran a brush through my hair so it at least would not be sticking up in all the wrong places. Then I went to find Christina.

She was pacing up and down in the living room, obviously agitated. "All right, let's go," she said as soon as I'd emerged from the bedroom. And without another word, grabbed the keys to my car from the counter where I'd dropped them the night before, and headed down the back stairs toward the parking lot.

She jumped into the driver's seat and I climbed in the other side. Christina loved to drive my Lexus sedan, and I hardly ever got the chance to drive it anymore when she was with me. She drove too fast and didn't pay enough attention to the road, but I usually bit my tongue and let her, knowing how much she enjoyed it.

Christina steered the sleek, black car out of the parking lot, turned left onto Main and headed west. In just a few minutes, we were at the edge of town and I thought she was probably headed back to Lake Thompson, where we'd spent such a wonderful afternoon not too long ago.

"Where are we going?" I finally asked, as the Durham city limit sign slipped by the right side of the car.

"I don't know," she answered. "I'll know when I get there."

"That doesn't sound like a very good plan to me," I chided. But Christina ignored that comment and kept driving, her eyes intently on the road.

So, I decided to try another approach. "How was Dallas?"

"It was fine," she responded, again not really answering.

"Did you buy a lot of stuff?"

"Not really."

By this time, it was very clear that Christina was not ready to talk about Dallas. I, on the other hand, didn't want to talk about anything else. As a result, we sat there in silence, both of us looking straight ahead. When we whizzed past the Willow Springs Marina sign, it was clear that we were not going to Lake Thompson.

After nearly an hour of excruciating silence, I was beginning to get angry. "How dare she ignore me like this?" I thought to myself. "I'm not the one with something to hide from the weekend." That knot of jealousy in my gut had turned into a big fist.

I felt the car begin to slow and looked up to see a sign that said Lake Mason State Park.

"Let's see what's in here," Christina said, breaking the tense silence. She turned right into the park and drove along the narrow two lane road that seemed to be leading to some picnic and camping areas. After a mile or so, she turned left into one of the picnic areas, drove as far away from the road as she could get, parked the car and turned off the engine.

We parked near a sign that read, "Daytime Use Only." The area was totally deserted on this cool, cloudy weekday morning. Without a word, Christina leaned across the console and rested her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her and leaned down to kiss her. But she turned her head just enough so I couldn't touch her lips, and my kiss ended up on her cheek instead. Obviously, she was not interested in getting amorous.

"I really did miss you," she whispered finally, looking up at me with her liquid blue eyes. She was still very quiet and nothing I said or did seemed to bring her any comfort. We held each other as best we could with the car's console in between us, then finally decided to get more comfortable in the back seat.

In back, Christina was restless, putting her head in my lap for a few minutes, then sitting up and leaning against me. Then, a moment later, she'd let out a heavy sigh and move to a new position. She clearly didn't know what to do with herself . . . or with me. Finally, we kissed a little, but before we could go much beyond that, she straightened up and said "Let's go for a walk," pointing over toward a little bridge that crossed a narrow section of the lake's back water.

Since it was a cool day and the wind was blowing pretty hard, I grabbed a blanket from the trunk of my car. It was a blanket Christina and I had used once before when we picnicked at Lake Thompson. I wrapped the light blue blanket around her shoulders and we walked across the road and out onto the bridge. In the distance, we could see where Lake Mason became wide and deep, the water a slate grey. The water immediately around the bridge, however, looked fairly shallow and was nearly covered by hundreds of floating water lilies. I couldn't help but imagine how beautiful they must look when they were all in bloom. Today, however, some were brown and lifeless, obviously dead and on their way toward decomposition, and the remainder were simply a dark green. There were no flowers in sight. As a matter of fact, there was little color at all . . . grey water, grey sky, grey mood.

Christina stopped in the middle of the short bridge and looked out into the water. I studied her face and noticed a smile begin to spread across her lips . . . a smile that I had come to love, especially when I had something to do with it causing it. This time, however, I wasn't sure where it came from. I had no idea what was going on inside that beautiful head.

Just then, Christina let out a little squeal and pressed herself against me. I followed the direction of her eyes and saw a small black snake coiled on top of some water plants near the far end of the bridge. After we both got over our surprise, we studied the snake for a bit, waiting for him to move. I'm sure he was studying us, too. After a few moments, Christina reached down and picked up a few acorns that had fallen onto the bridge from a nearby oak tree that overhung it, and tossed them at the snake. He quickly slithered off the plants and disappeared into the dark water, much to Christina's amusement. It was good to hear her laugh and I began to feel the tension easing just a little.

"Let's see where this trail goes," she said, starting toward the little path that meandered off to the left just on the other side of the bridge. We walked along slowly, Christina with the blanket pulled tight around her to ward off the cool breeze. Occasionally, I'd reach over and put my arm around her. Stopping several times along the way to search the water for any additional wildlife, we had walked about 200 yards from the bridge when we came to what looked from a distance like a wooden boat dock. When we got closer, however, we saw that it was a short boardwalk that allowed hikers to cross a particularly low, damp area. The boardwalk extended for twenty feet or so, taking a turn to the right before turning back into a dirt and gravel path.

The trail had followed the curved shore of the lake and by now we were out of sight of the picnic area. We could hear an occasional car speeding by on a nearby road, but the path and the boardwalk were not visible to anyone unless they happened to be walking along behind us. "Let's sit down for a minute," Christina said, as she carefully lowered herself onto a single step that had been built into the boardwalk. I sat down beside her and put my arm around her shoulder.

We sat there in silence for several minutes, both of us looking out at the water. Finally, Christina turned toward me, and I could tell she was ready to be kissed. And kiss her I did. Soft little pecks on her cheeks, little nibbles on her neck, and finally a long, deep kiss on her beautifully full lips. I loved kissing her, and from her reaction, she loved it, too, as her body relaxed more and more under my touch, her lips parted a little farther with each kiss, and finally, our tongues caressed as I put both arms around her and pulled her body tight to mine. I savored the feeling of her breasts against my chest.

Our kisses became more and more passionate, and I slipped my hand beneath the blanket to caress her breast, lightly at first, then a firmer massage. When I touched her there, she let out a little sigh, her warm breath drifting into my mouth. I touched her under the blanket as we kissed . . . her breasts, her stomach, her arms. Then my hand drifted lower and began to move upward along the inside of her thighs, until I was able to lightly caress her mound through her jeans. She gave a little gasp as I traced my hand along her slit through the fabric.

"Mmmmmmm," she moaned, as I continued massaging and caressing her, and I could feel a little dampness beginning to soak through the material. Finally, she reached down and began to rub her hand along the length of my cock, which had grown considerably by this time.

We sat there on the step, kissing, caressing, the only sounds the lapping of the water against the shore and the little moans and whimpers of pleasure that were escaping both of us by now. Finally, Christina broke our kiss and said breathlessly, "I want you to fuck me."

"You mean here?" I responded in surprise. Having sex out in the open in a semi-public place was something I hadn't tried before, and I wasn't sure I wanted to try it then, either.

"Right here, right now," she panted emphatically, while at the same time standing up so she could remove her jeans. I looked up and watched as she slid her jeans and panties down in one quick motion, and in no time she was naked from the waist down. I gazed for a moment at her beautifully bare mound, which was just about at eye level. Tentatively, I reached up and ran my hand over her smooth mound and caressed her belly and thighs as she stood there with her eyes closed.

"Well, don't just sit there," she whispered, her voice hoarse with arousal. "I told you I want to be fucked." So I stood up quickly, spread the blanket out to cover the weathered wood of the boardwalk, and began to undo my belt.

"God, you are so slow," Christina said in exasperation, as she reached over, unfastened my waistband and pulled my zipper down. I looked around again apprehensively one more time and seeing nothing, let my jeans drop down around my ankles. My boxer briefs quickly joined them. I was unable to remove them completely because I still had my shoes on, but I decided that was probably a good idea in case we heard someone coming.

I sat down on the step and leaned back, and Christina put one leg on either side of me and sat down on my belly. She leaned down and kissed me deeply, urgently and began to grind against me. I could feel the dampness of her nectar on my belly, and before long she moved down a little and slid her pussy up and down along the length of my cock.

"God, isn't this amazing?" she panted as her movements became faster, more urgent. I don't know whether it was the cold, the apprehension of being discovered, or what. But though I was incredibly excited and aroused, I was not yet hard enough to slip easily inside her, as we both very much wanted by this time. So, Christina slid down my body and took my cock between those beautiful lips and began to lick and suck . . . hungrily, urgently, deliciously. I slowly began to harden as she touched me as only she could . . . one moment taking me fully inside her mouth and burying her face in my pubic hair, then slowly raising her head and licking along the length of me.