Keeping It Legal Ch 03

Over the last three weeks I had only seen Jim three times. I was going stir crazy not being with him. And while, out of nothing else to do, I raised my grades, this pleased my parents, but it did not ease my libido. One good thing did come out of it though. I think through the word of my father, our good old neighbor Ernie had hired me for babysitting work. It was nice to be making my own money and not having to beg for spare cash now and then.

Ernie was a very kind gentleman. He had dark hair and chocolate eyes. I think he realized I was basically a good kid, but that I just needed a little bit of direction. He paid me decent wages and, throughout my time over at his house, he taught me how to cook a few basic things that his 6 year-old son, Tom, liked. I was over at his house watching Tom usually about three weekdays after school and sometimes on the weekends.

Ernie had a gentle air about him, an air of kindness. He was tall and lean and middle-aged, a divorcee whose wife lived in another part of the country. There are many times that I thought of him as very handsome. I could never be unfaithful to Jim, but I had to admit that I had an attraction to Ernie. Through my contact with Ernie and my thoughts of Jim, I found my panties sticking to me frequently.

Through my babysitting job, Ernie had nothing but class. Though, I did sense he liked me a little bit. His eyes were always so nice to look into and he had such a kindly smile. Sometimes our looks would hold onto each other a little longer than I thought normal, but it never went passed that.

One Friday night Ernie asked me to stay late to babysit. I had helped Tom with his homework, we had taken some Crayolas and colored in some of his coloring books, and I had sent him to bed. He was a sweet kid, ornery, but sweet.

It was about 10:30 p.m. when Ernie returned home. Tom had been asleep for about an hour or so and when his father walked through the front door, I could tell he was in a sour mood, but trying to hide it. He grumbled a 'good evening' to me and walked into the kitchen. I followed him quietly, cautiously, not wanting to get in his way. I also really wanted to be paid. I saw him unlock the liquor cabinet, pour a short bit of Vodka into a glass, toss his head back, downing the glass and put the bottle back in the cabinet.

"Ernie?" he insisted I was to call him Ernie. "Are you okay?"

His back had been to me the whole time, but he turned around to face me. He saw my meek body language and expression and his face and voice softened. "No, Katie. Well, damn it, I might as well tell somebody. There was this lady at work - Angela's her name - and, well, that little slut, God, I could just kill her. I've liked her for quite sometime and so anyway we went out for drinks. She was really getting friendly, if you know what I mean. Well, I go to the bathroom, and she leaves with this other guy. Not only that, the guy who I was sitting next to at the bar tells me it was her husband! I didn't even know she was married! The biggest liar I've ever met, stringing me along all these weeks. The way she was acting I thought we were going to do it tonight."

I looked at him, surprised. I had never seen him so upset, but I also had never heard that kind of language from him. I looked at him sympathetically.

"I'm sorry," I said meekly.

"Me too," he said, resting his hands on the table. "About talking in front of you like that."

I walked over to him at, looking up at him. I held his hand gently. "There'll be other girls. I'm sorry this one was so phony."

With my hand resting on his, he rested his other hand on mine, layering our hands. He looked into my eyes. "Thank you. I appreciate your compassion." His eyes were so sad and frustrated, I felt heartbroken by his haggard look which was usually so neat and put together. Our gaze stood there for a suggestive, unnecessary moment when he broke it.

"Well, I guess I should pay you, kiddo," he said, taking the wallet out from his back pocket. "Let's see $9 per hour for seven hours is...what? About $63? Let's make it $65 to be even. I'm too tired for all this single dollar bills tonight." He handed me the money.

"Thank you very much, Ernie. You'll feel better after a good night's sleep."

He nodded. "I suppose so."

He walked me to the front door.

"Good night," I said, with a slight smile.

"Night," he said, and shut the door behind him.

The next day was a Saturday. I had the day off from babysitting and Jim was at work. But Jim's excessive working hours were soon to end - over the next few days he was going to conclude his interviews for assistant managers and the one he chose would start next Thursday. As for me, I got quite a bit of my homework done the night before during the hour that Tom was sleeping. And, greatest of all, I had the house to myself!

The weather was still unusually warm for this time of year, and I walked around the house in white panties and a white, strapless bra. I had not woken until around 11 o'clock. I had gotten right to work on my homework. After about an hour of that, I went into the kitchen to make myself lunch, or, what was for me, my breakfast. I fixed myself some Eggo waffles and poured myself a great big glass of chocolate milk. As I was eating, I thought. I missed Jim terribly. We had not had sex, or even seen each other, for six days.

From where I was sitting in my seat at the dining room table, I could see the front door. Our front door is made of glass with a transparent drape over it. I saw a large figure running towards it. I dropped my fork on the plate. I was almost a little bit scared. The figure knocked on the door once, frantically. I ran to it, thinking it was an emergency. I opened it. It was Jim!

"Jim!" I squealed and hugged him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were working."

"Baby," he said, breathlessly kissing me, "I am. I'm on my lunch break. Are you ready? God, you look so good." He began to undo my bra from the back.

"Oh yes, Jim, I'm ready. Come on," I took his hand and lead him up to my bedroom.

It was the first time he had been in my room. He had to take the time to look at it. "It's so pretty, like are you, Baby. Come to Daddy," he said, tackling me and pinning me on the bed. I giggled and squealed, eagerly lifting my butt up so he could pull my panties off. I began to undress him quickly, pulling his shirt out of his pants and pulling his clothes off, both of us in a hurry because of the time limit and because of our pent up sexual desire.

I spread my legs and started to finger myself while he started to beat his cock. It was a little habit we did at times, quickly getting ourselves ready for each other. "Come on!" I shrieked and grabbed him.

He teased my pussy with the head of his cock as much as he could, but he couldn't wait any longer. He sunk himself into me and groaned.

"Oh God, this is heaven. I'm so deep inside you, Sweetheart."

"Ohh," I moaned. "Fuck me Daddy. Fuck your little cocksucker."

"Damn. No wait, I have a better idea," he said, pulling out. "Get on your hands and knees, Kitten."

I did as he said with no question or hesitance. With my ass facing him, I knew he was really going to go to town with me. I reached my hand back between my legs, fingering my pussy. I knew the glistening littleness of my slit, and of me masturbating myself would drive him crazy.

"Move your hand, Kitten." I did so, and he sunk into my pussy from behind me. I was wide open for him and it was easy for him to sink in deeply. "Oh God," he moaned. "I can't take this much longer."

He grabbed my small hips and started pounding himself into me. Every time he banged into me, I let out a loud, short moan.

"Fuck me Daddy," I moaned. "Yes, yes, just like that. I love your big, strong cock in me, banging me."

"Oh, do you Baby? Oh Daddy loves your sweet little slit. God!"

It did not take him long to cum at all. I came shortly after he did, and we fell together on the bed, giggling, out of breath.

After a few minutes, I asked him something. "How'd you know I was the only one home?"

He looked up at me from resting on my breast. "I didn't, but I figured I'd take the chance. I really needed you bad, Baby. All day I've been like this, thinking of you. I've been so horny, not being able to fuck you, Sweetheart."

"Oh, I've been going crazy too," I assured him. "Jim," I paused. "My parents are interested in meeting you. My Mom is cooking her famous pot roast on Friday night. Would you like to come over and have dinner with us?"

He looked up to me again and grabbed my cheek, pulling my face toward him, kissing me. "Of course, Baby. I would love to meet your family."

In the air, we could both sense each other's worry. While my Mom had become used to the idea of my dating an older man, my father couldn't stand it. It would be a tough evening, but Jim was strong, both physically and emotionally. He also would not put up with any crap my father might dish out. This is a trait my father found attractive in people. My Dad dished out a lot of bull to challenge people - and those people who could defy him would usually be accepted by him.

"Well," he said, looking at his watch. "I better get going. All this workload will last but a few days more."

He dressed before me. I liked watching him dress. He had a tall, strong body, with a very hairy chest. I just loved his body. I liked watching him undress, better, though. I stood up and slipped my panties and bra on.

"I'm glad you won't have to work as much," I said to him, hooking my arm in his. "I'll walk you downstairs."

"Like that!" he exclaimed, smiling, looking down at me in my underwear.

"Only to the door," I giggled.

"I wish I could stay over the rest of the day, Baby," he said when we got to the door.

I smiled. "Me too."

"Goodbye, Princess."

"Bye," I said sweetly, batting my eyelashes.

"Damn, you're making it hard to leave!" he laughed. He kissed me and went down the steps. I closed the door behind me.

That was damn good sex. Jim was always so good to me. I went to the kitchen and cleaned up my plate and my glass and did the few dishes that were in the sink. I then went up to my bedroom and heard voices outside, as my window was open. My window had been open during the sex? Jesus! I hid behind the curtain and looked out. Jim was talking with Ernie. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but it was a rare sight, seeing such two attractive man standing side by side. Jim then shook Ernie's hand and got back into his car to go back to work.

I was absolutely gleeful that Jim and I had had the opportunity to screw. It was quick - the quickest sex ever - but I was all the more willing to put out for him, whatever the circumstance.

Friday night came around slowly. I helped Mom make the dinner and I put on a tight, white dress. My Dad eyed my outfit suspiciously, but didn't say anything. I was helping setting the table when there was a knock at the door.

"You guys, he's here! Come on!" I said, pulling them into the living room with me.

"I've already met him," said Pauline.

"I wasn't talking to you," I snapped. "So shut it."

"Katie," my Mom warned.

I opened the door. Jim looked absolutely beautiful. He had on black slacks and a white-button up shirt with a tie. He held something in his hands. I invited him inside.

"Everybody this is Jim. Jim this is my father Warren, my Mom Lisa, and my little sister Pauline."

"It's nice to meet all of you," he said, shaking their hands. "I remember you from the basketball court!" he said playfully to Pauline.

Pauline stood with arms folded across her chest, defiantly. "I remember you, too," she said coolly.

"Pauline," I suggested to her. "It's not nice to be a total pig to a guest."

Jim looked around. I could tell he was nervous, but he held himself well. "Uh, Mrs. Gallagher," he said, speaking to my mother. "This is for you. Well, for the family dinner," he said, presenting to her what looked to be an apple pie.

My mother was always a gracious lady with class. "Thank you very much, Jim," she said kindly. My Dad looked at her with betrayal.

I looked at my watch. To ease the tension I spoke. "How about we all go to the dining room? The supper is almost done."

We all agreed to that with a sigh of relief.

"It looks like you baked this pie yourself, Jim," my mother replied sweetly.

"Well, that's true, Ma'am," he said. "I baked it today."

Jim took a seat at the table. I sat next to him. "I didn't know you could bake," I said to him smiling.

"Yes, I certainly can. By the way, I forgot to say hello to you," he said, kissing me on the cheek.

This was all very tame, in my opinion. It is an unspoken rule not to be too suggestive in front of the parents, and I thought we were doing well. But my father gave him a dirty look after the kiss.

Jim was a perfect gentleman. When it was time to set the table, he helped my mother bring the food out and the drinks. Already my Mom and Jim seemed to have struck up a good rapport. Pauline was defiant - but she was defiant anyway. My father was in complete disgust at this nice, young man. In fact, my Dad had hardly said two words since he walked in.

Once we all sat around the table, the conversation between myself, my Mom and Jim flowed easily. Pauline was hunched over her plate, depressed over this unwelcome intrusion into her Friday night plans (yeah, like she had anything to do anyway.) My father just ate quietly. There was a slight lull in the conversation.

"So," my father spoke up abruptly. "You couldn't find someone your own age, Jim?"

Jim looked up at him from his plate. "It's hard to find someone of any age, sir."

"I bet you two look a little peculiar when you go out."

Sitting beside Jim, I could see his cheeks were turning red. I could tell he was growing angry.

"Warren," my mother scolded him. "There's no need to be rude."

"True," my Dad said, "but there's also no need for lecherous behavior, either."

Jim looked at him, gritting his teeth within his mouth. "Warren," he said with a strong voice. "I can say with great ease that I treat your daughter with more respect than you're treating me. And she respects me, too. Something she didn't learn from you."

My Dad put his fork down on his plate. The clatter of it was loud in the otherwise silent room.

"Dad," I said to him. "Why can't you have an open-mind? You are 12 years older than Mom. Who are you to judge?"

"Oh, I suppose it's gang-up-on-the-old-man day!" he stood up, yelling.

I stood up too. "The only one who is being ganged up on is Jim! Don't make yourself the victim!" I snapped at him, then sat back down.

My father walked away, angrily, and went out the backdoor. He was like me, a seldom smoker, and I knew he was going out for a smoke. There was an awkward silence in the room. I looked at Jim. I knew he was frustrated, but I didn't know what to say. I held his hand.

"I'm sorry," I said to him.

"It's okay," he said gently.

"Would you like some more biscuits, Jim?" my mother asked him kindly.

"Yes, thank you, Ma'am." He took the basket she offered him and took out a biscuit and set it on his plate. He thought for a moment. "I'm going to go talk to Warren," he said to no one in particular and got up and went out the backdoor. I could hear their quiet voices talking, but not making out what they were saying.

Pauline asked if she could go to a friend's house. My mother agreed that she could and she left. My Mom and I sat there in silence, eating our food. We made small talk about school and such, and her work as a nurse at the hospital. But both of us were curious as to what the two men were talking about out there.

"They've been out there quite a while," my Mom observed.

"Yeah," I said. "What could they be talking about?"

"You know your father, he can delve into just about any topic with anyone. By the way, darling," she said, reaching for my hand. "I think Jim is just wonderful. Just as long as your happy, that's all that matters."

"I am, Mom. He makes me very happy."

At that point Jim and my Dad came in laughing, my Dad slapping him on the back. They sat back down at the table and resumed their eating that had probably gotten cold by this time.

"Where's Pauline?" my Dad asked. My mom explained she had gone to a friend's house.

"You know, Lisa," my Dad said, addressing my Mom. "Jim works in retail, he's the manager. And guess who he just hired as his assistant manager?"

"Who?" my Mom asked. I was curious to hear the answer myself.

"Banjo-eyes-Bernie."

My Mom and I both squealed with delight and laughter. We remarked on what a coincidence it was. "Banjo-eyes-Bernie" was my Mom's ex-fiancé - a man who she had dated before she met my father. The engagement obviously had been broken, but the two of them had remained in contact over the years and he was a friend of the family's. It was a peculiar situation, one we referred to as "platonic-kinky".

Between the four of us, we had a great evening together. We laughed and talked and when my parents questioned Jim, they didn't do so in a harsh way. They simply were curious about this young man. My Dad was gracious and grateful to Jim for hiring Bernie, and, actually getting to know him, I think he liked him - though it would be difficult for him to admit it.

The evening started to wind down around 10 p.m. My parents and I walked Jim out to the porch. I clung to Jim's arm while we talked.

"You're not as bad as I thought you were going to be!" my Dad exclaimed, laughing, slapping Jim on the back.

Jim laughed and the laughter died down. "Well," he said, "it's been a pleasure meeting all of you, I hope to see you again."

"It's been wonderful," my Mom said. "Please consider this your second home, Jim, honestly, drop by anytime."

"Thank you," he said. "Nice meeting you, Warren, you old man" he said, shaking his hand. My Dad laughed.

"And Mrs. Gallagher," he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. "You've been wonderful."

I shoved Jim playfully at his phoniness. He laughed. My parents said goodbye to him and went in the house. I walked Jim to his car.

"It went so well. You did so good, Jim." I was attracted to the strength he showed in the wrath of my father.

"Thank you, Kitten," he said stopping at his car. He was leaning back against it and holding me, whispering in my ear. "I wish I could spend the night with you."

"I wish you could too," I whispered to him.

"What are your plans for tomorrow night, Baby?" he asked me.

"I have to babysit," I told him.

"What time does the kid go to bed?" he said, kissing my cheek and my neck.

I giggled. "Friday and Saturday nights, usually around 9:30."

"I'll stop by then," he said.

"Are you serious?" I giggled.

"Of course." He kissed me on the mouth. "Good night, Sweetheart."

"Good night, Jim."

He got into his car and I waved to him as he drove off. He waved out the window at me. Feeling unusually good, I went back in the house and helped my Dad with the dishes. Mom had already gone to bed. Dad and I said very little. We remarked on the food and how good it was. His silence was not an angry, it was just one of his silences.

After we were done cleaning up, we said good night. My father stood back and smiled. He playfully nudged my cheek with a gentle fist.

"You made a good choice, kiddo," he told me, and went on to bed.

I was pleased with his approval. I went to bed myself, looking forward to the following evening with Jim.

By the time the next evening had rolled around, Tom had been driving me crazy. He played with his toy cars, he colored in his coloring book, we watched cartoons and had hearty meals that Ernie had taught me how to cook. By the time 8:30 had rolled around, he had been completely exhausted and fell asleep in front of the television, sprawled out onto the floor. I gave him about a half-hour to kind of "dig deep" into his sleep so he wouldn't awake, and I carried him down the hall to his first-floor bedroom. In his limp, floppy limbs, I helped him into his pajamas and then tucked him in. Jim was to arrive at 9:30.