"Okay. I don't think you're a kid – but my wife will think so."
Sueanne, feeling very sure of herself, wagged her ass and grinned. "Let me have your wife for a weekend. I'll show her how much of a kid I am." Mike looked up startled.
"You fool around with girls?"
Sueanne shrugged. She wanted to seem wise and worldly. In fact, the only fooling around with girls she had done had been at camp-outs and at spend-the-nights where she and her friend Rosie had sucked each other's pert nipples and fingered one another's stiff clits into orgasm.
"I've been around," she said casually, evading a direct answer.
Mike blinked his eyes in shock. He half-grinned, thinking of his plump and super-moral wife, spreading her legs to let the young blonde bombshell lick her swollen cunt. He'd sure like to see that!
But Mike was very sure that his wife would never go along with anything like that – even if he fucked his wife first and stayed there with her, holding her hand… no, she'd never go along with it. But it was an exciting thought.
"Maybe," Sueanne said kittenishly and slid onto his lap, "I could come visit you at your house."
Mike laughed, picturing this sweet and spoiled blonde teenager trying to cope with the madness of his suburban household. His wife doing dishes and laundry and running the Goddam vacuum cleaner while the crazy fox terrier tried to attack the cleaning machine as if it were a science fiction monster. His daughter with wet diapers, wailing from the next room, as his two boys played a raucous game of Cowboys and Indians through the hallway.
"Sorry, honey," he said gently, "but I don't think you'd enjoy it."
Sueanne again felt rejected. As though Mike didn't want her to be a part of his full life. As though she were something to be used – and dumped.
She got up huffily and stalked across the room.
"You sure don't show any appreciation."
Mike looked up, startled.
"Appreciation for what?"
"I gave you my cherry."
Mike sighed and smiled. "But, if you can remember, honey, I didn't want your cherry. You tricked me into it."
Sueanne was even angrier at the thought that the man hadn't even wanted to fuck her!
"Now, wait a minute," Mike got up and went to her. He could almost see the steam blasting from her ears, she was so furious. "Of course I wanted to fuck you, honey – but I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't tricked me. I didn't want to encounter any responsibility. And I still don't. You're a great kid, Sueanne, but it's over now. The cops will find us sometime during the day, I hope, and you'll go back to your father and I'll go home to my family. And if we ever meet on the street, well, we'll just smile and pretend we hardly know each other."
"Just a foggy memory," Sueanne spat sarcastically, "that's all I am. A foggy memory. Well, let me tell you, mister, I won't forget you. You were the first and I won't ever forget it!"
She threw herself on the overstuffed sofa and sobbed, her heaving shoulders outlined in the sunlight that streamed through the windows as the sun melted outside.
Mike stared at the melting snow, wishing it would melt down to the ground, that he could get out of here. He wanted to kick himself in the pants for thinking he could get away, scot-free, with a weekend of fucking with a teenage girl. She was too young, too immature, to deal with a hit-and-run affair. He was a fool to go along with it.
He hoped she wouldn't tell her father, wouldn't make a scene in front of his wife. He wished that the entire episode would melt away, evaporate, like the snow outside that sizzled into nothingness under the sun's hot rays.
He stared at the girl and wondered at her charm and beauty. He had certainly enjoyed their brief relationship and he only wished that she were old enough to understand that his whole life was at stake here. He was a family man, a member of a community that judged its citizens harshly. He'd lose his job, his wife, his friends, if what had happened in this cabin – no matter how lovely and loving it was between himself and the girl – if they found out.
Sueanne's tears were soaking through the arm of her sweater and as her shoulders heaved in sobs, she wished that she understood what was happening. Mike was a nice man, a good man, she was sure of that. How could he be so heartless, so uncaring about what happened to her? She needed him now, she needed to know that he would be there when she wanted him. She wanted him close to her, wanted his hot mouth on hers, his thick prick inside her tender, smarting cunt. But he wanted nothing more to do with her.
As the sound of the plough came close again and the megaphone sounded one more time, Sueanne wiped her eyes and determined not to let Mike know how hurt she was.
Mike, excited in anticipation of their rescue, still felt badly that the girl did not understand. He hadn't wanted to hurt her in any way, physically or emotionally. She had brought a new excitement into his life, a new meaning to his sexual needs. But he couldn't assume responsibility for her. He couldn't.
He looked deeply into her eyes as the thick shovels cut a path toward the cabin, aimed at rescuing them. In an hour, they would be in a real world again. They would have responsibilities that didn't include one another. He hugged the girl tightly and kissed her cheek.
"Thank you," he said, "and I hope some day you'll understand."
Sueanne let herself feel his warm strength only for a moment before she pulled away. She refused to let herself cry again. He could just go straight to hell.
"I understand perfectly," she said coldly. "I was used."
Mike shook his head sadly. He had certainly not meant to use her. He loved her in a strange way. Not like he loved his wife, solidly and realistically – but mystically and magically, as a man might love a legend or a fairy princess.
"Well," he said sadly, touching her hair, as he looked out the window and saw the shovels flying with snow, cutting a path to them. Wrapped warmly in thick jackets and caps, he saw her father and his wife, following the workers, looking anxiously toward the cabin.
He let go of the girl and was ready when the last shovel of snow had been tossed aside and the wooden cabin opened to the real world.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sueanne's father clasped her in his arms.
"My baby," he said, hugging her, "you're all right!"
"I'm fine, daddy," she said, her eyes filling with tears as she watched Mike embrace his sweet faced, plump wife. "This nice man took good care of me."
It only crossed Sueanne's father's mind for a moment – the fleeting vision of the rough-bearded burly woodsman between his daughter's slender legs, the big man's hips humping in a steady motion as he drove his cock into the blonde young virgin.
How silly, he told himself. He could see the man embracing his wife. He was obviously a good man. Sueanne's father turned to Mike and extended his hand.
"Thanks, buddy," he said manfully and clapped Mike on the shoulder. "I really appreciate your taking care of my girl. I'd like to repay you."
"Forget it, Mr. Rogers," Mike said, returning the handshake, one big arm still wrapped around his wife. "I was glad to be able to do it."
"That young man you were out with," Mr. Rogers said to his daughter, "is really worried sick. We'll have to let him know that you're all right. Apparently he tried to get through to the police but his car ran off the road."
"No wonder," Sueanne said to herself, "he drove like a maniac."
"…and the telephone wires were down everywhere."
"We have to get home," Mike's sweet-faced wife said, holding possessively onto her husband's arm, "our kids are waiting. They've been as worried as I have, honey."
Mike kissed her cheek affectionately and led her down the trail toward the road.
"And you, young lady," said Sueanne's father, "have got to get home and get packed. I'm off to Chicago tomorrow morning and you're going with me."