#13 Here

"NO! I have to leave, now!" she started to sob.

My heart felt ravaged by that, but I forged on, "If you have a place to stay, wouldn't you want to stay here?"

"I can't," she sniffed.

"Why? Please?"

Her eyes finally appeared, and looked up at the sky, as the tears dripped off of her chin. "You really didn't see it? Don't know?"

Her luscious eyes lowered to mine, watching for my answer.

"No!" I said, wondering which landmine I had just stepped on.

Her eyes dropped and her head shook, "You naïve old man. I fuckin FELL-IN-LOVE with you! Then I ruined it all by letting you see who I really am. Just a slut and a lush. Her eyes rose, almost to mine, "I loved who I was with you...before that damn Sambuca. And now I can't face you anymore...Got IT!?"

My heart leapt with joy, but my mind bogged down as to how I could get her down off of her mountain of guilt. "Why can't you be that person you want to be? What's stopping you?"

"Because..." she started, before taking a few deep breaths, "...because you'll know...you'll always know what I am."

"What if I don't care what or who you were?" I pleaded, "I only care about what you learned from your past and how it makes you who you are now, and who you want to be. Sometimes we end up a better person for having been a worse one."

Her eyes searched the sky, "And what if we run into one of my old 'buddies' who says, 'There's that LO-SER CARE-EE,' and they laugh at me?"

"If I don't laugh at you, does anyone else really matter? Or maybe I set them on their ass!"

A short laugh escaped around her melancholy, and her eyes slowly lowered to search my face, "How can you be so nice, so forgiving, so...safe?!"

"Because I'm older, so I have had more time to work on myself." I began, "And maybe because I have parents that are understanding enough to still love and welcome a son who was once a drunk driver and hit a child."

Ciara suddenly stiffened, her feet slipping off the steps, and her hand covered her gaping mouth. Her eyebrows flew up in dire concern, wrinkling her forehead, and the tears stopped. She stood, came down a few steps, and sat a couple steps up from me. She leaned forward, compassionate eyes locked on mine, and removed the hand from her mouth. In a hushed voice, she inquired, "How, when...why?"

"And can you still love me, knowing that?" I asked of those eyes.

She was startled by the question, but then smiled and slowly nodded.

"Well, I was married once," I continued, "And have been divorced for 12 years. I married Shawna, my high school crush, since we were madly in lust. I thought I was in love with her, and maybe at that point in my life, it was real enough. However, she faded from her love, if she ever really was in love, and ran off with someone who seemed...more 'exciting'."

Ciara slid down another step, which made our feet interlaced in front of us, "And?"

I went on, "I was heart-broken. In hindsight it all feels rather silly, naïve...stupid, but that's what I had to deal with at the time. So, friends invite me to a BBQ, try and set me up with a cute girl. I feel the first tingle of lust in months, and got shit-faced trying to impress the girl."

"I would have liked to have seen you that drunk!" Ciara snickered.

I delighted in her change of mood, but had to keep going, "She blows me off, I got all moody and sorry for myself, and disappeared from the party. Got only to the next block, and this 3-year old, Tommy Biderstein, bolts out from between two pickup trucks. He sees me and starts to turn." A tear trickled down my cheek.

"No!" said Ciara, and used her finger to wipe the tear away.

"I'm on the brakes, swerving, and catch Tommy with the side of my fender. That sent him into one of the trucks' bumpers, which broke his arm. He was bruised elsewhere, but recovered with no long-term injuries. I was cited for drunk driving, and for damaging the other car I had swerved into. But, I was not charged for hitting Tommy, as it was determined to be unavoidable."

"And you're okay, now?" she asks, as I sniffle.

"Almost. There is enough memory of seeing that boy's frightened face, his body ricochet and then disappear to the ground, that I occasionally have to battle to contain the emotions. (sniff) I felt like dog-shit for months. After that, I really examined myself and decided who and what I wanted to be."

"I sense that was a parable," Ciara smiled.

"The majority of the world will see you for who you are. It is only a few from your past, plus the haters in the world, who want to see you as less, and undeserving of compassion. I want to see you as you are, now...not as whatever you think you were before."

Her eyes went down, "But this is still a one-sided love, and I have to move, anyway."

"I am moving, too." I stated.

Her eyes rose, "Where...why...when?" she anxiously queried.

"All is not as it seems, young Jedi!"

A grin grew on her face, "What!?"

"Come with me," I requested, as I stood.

"I don't know..." Ciara said, as she hesitated, "I not sure I'm up to that, yet!"

"What?" I grinned, "Following me downstairs?" Then I sort of sang, "I have Charmin!?

She giggled, shrugged, and stood up. I let her lead.

When we got downstairs, carrying our water bottles, she turned towards my doorway. I countered, "No, this way."

Curious eyes watched me pull the keys from my pocket, and then open the door to #114, on the opposite side of the hallway.

"Nate? What are we doing?" she said, curiosity ripe in her voice.

"Just looking at this empty apartment," I answered.

She came into #114, "Oh, wow! I always wondered what these corner units looked like! Look at all the windows and the beautiful view of the mountains. And the extra space. The layout is nicer...Wow! Look, there is a den, too!"

"So you like it?" I asked.

"Absolutely"

"Better than Chicago?"

She scoffed, "Are you nuts? Of course!...Wait a minute, what are you..."

I interrupted, "You would be happy to live here?"

"Nate! What are talking about?"

"Would you be happy to live here?!" I repeated, with emphasis.

"Yes, shit Yes, but this makes no sense? Nate, Please? What the hell is going on?!"

I set my water bottle on the counter, walked up behind her, and wrapped my arms around her.

"No" she said in a small whine, while gently wiggling, "I can't be this close to you. It hurts too much!"

I softly spoke to her ear, "There is only one condition to you living here."

"Please, let me go! And what condition?" she whined.

"That you share it with the man the loves Ciara Byrne."

Ciara stopped wiggling. Her water bottle hit the carpet. Ciara hit the carpet...as her knees buckled and she slid from my arms.

Stunned, she looked up from her crumpled position. "What?" wandered out of her mouth and was emphasized by the wild confusion in her eyes.

"Missed that, did you?" I chuckled, as I extended my hand. I don't think she saw my hand, as those lovely eyes raced around my face, trying to find understanding. "While you were barricading yourself in #213, I was realizing what you meant to me."

She gasped, "I was so wrapped up in myself, that I never considered that you could care that much for me!" She accepted the help of my hand, and stood up, "Nate...Really?...Like really in love...with ME?!"

"Yeah," I snickered, "I have a soft spot for drunk sluts."

She threw her arms around me, and squeezed me forcefully, "Don't ever remind of that again!" she laughingly sobbed into my shoulder. "And...Is it my turn, yet?" she asked.

"Sure"

She pulled back, and put her hands on my cheeks. With tears leaking at the edges of those wondrous eyes, she pronounced, "I-Love-You-Nathan...WAIT! What the hell's your last name?!"

"Hettricks," I laughed.

"HETTRICKS! Oh, God! Dad is gonna disown me if I tell him that I love a Scotsman!" Ciara thundered in laughter.

"That's the Ciara I love," I said, as I slipped my hand across her cheek. Her laughter stumbled to a halt. My hand went under her hair, as those eyes blazed hope at me. I pulled her head to me, and her eyes so slowly closed. My lips met hers like a whisper, and the whine from her pleaded for more.

My other arm brought her body hard against me, and she desperately grabbed my hair and pressed my lips hard to her. Our mouths swirled as our moans intermingled. Then the tip of my tongue met hers, and her hips struggled to center on mine. She could feel my response there.

Then she broke away. "No," she gasped, "You deserve a better me!" Give me one hour, and then you had better be ready for love!"

Puzzled I just grinned, and she rushed out the door, and up the stairs. I checked my watch.

Forty minutes later, she texted, "Your 13 in 10."

Just short of those 10 minutes, I answered the knock at my "old" door.

Holy shit! She was on fire! She, barely, wore a short, red, halter-top dress that covered, maybe, half of each breast. Her nipples nudged at the soft material. Her red heels brought her to the same height as I was. That deep chestnut hair flowed around her shoulders. Her make up gave her higher cheekbones, with red lipstick that emphasized the leering smirk on her lips. And the make up around her eyes turned them into a pair of blue lasers!

"Did you have any dreams of me like this?" she laughed, as she closed the door and watched me ogle her.

"I've never had one half this hot!" I choked.

"Well, I am all yours, mister Big stuff," she purred, "And I'll do anything for the man I love."

"Maybe you'll let me start on the 'Naïve Old Man' side of the menu, and try to make sure you orgasm first."

"OOoohhh!" she purred again, "Only planning on one orgasm? We need to get you up to speed, then. And you won't find it hard to make me orgasm. Some are bigger than others, though!"

I grinned, "So how can I tell the big ones?"

"You'll know when the neighbors know!" she crooned.

"That vocal, huh?" I chuckled.

She smirked, "One way to find out. You'd better get to work!"

"Is this really Ciara?" I laughed.

"Geez Nate! Quit talking and kiss me, like before. Then you'll find out about your girlfriend...I am your girlfriend, right?"

"Oh, yes...hell, yes!" I crowed. With that, I did as she asked, and the stunning lasers oozed closed. The bare skin at her back was intoxicating as I kissed her, and her lithe body squirmed against me. I ran my tongue around her lips, as my hand moved from her neck to her side, and I luxuriated in the skin I encountered there, too.

Sensing the open curtains, I pulled a giggling Ciara back to the entrance of my bedroom. The bedroom blinds were closed, but still let some light leak in. I loosened the knot at the back of her neck, and the top of her dress dropped away. She reached down, gave a quick tug on her skirt, wiggled, and it fell to the floor. Ciara grinned into my eyes, and said, "Oops!".

I grinned back and brought both hands up under her breasts, and she purred, "Second base, so soon...Well!"

"Too fast?" I asked

"Just hurry up and score, silly! The water boy has already made his rounds!" she commanded, "Then we can slow down for the next round."

"Whatever my love wants!" I hummed. I swung her onto the bed, and she flopped on her back, with her natural breasts jiggling deliciously. God, she was magnificent lying there. So lean, smooth...and eagerly willing. She wiggled her feet, and I removed her heels, and then I reached for her red lace panties.

She stopped me with her hands on my hands. "You first!" she grinned, "Otherwise, what leverage would I have?"

I pulled my soccer shirt over my head. "Oh, yes! But not nearly enough!" she cooed. I undid my jeans, dropped them, and pulled off my socks at the same. My boxers were clearly tented.

"WELL!" she exclaimed, looking at the peak in my boxers, "I am either going to be saluting a flag, or be a very satisfied girlfriend!" I smiled and removed my boxers. "Definitely the latter!" she purred.

"She is great for my ego!" I laughed in my mind. I reached for her panties, and her hips lifted. I slid them down, and drew them over her feet. She grinned. I stared.

There she was, nude on my bed. Wavy chestnut hair scattered over the pillow, blazing pools of eyes residing in the shadows of the room, pert nipples on lovely round breasts, which just slightly settled at her sides. And, at the top of those impossibly long legs, there was a neat tuft of chestnut hair, and wet, pink lips peeked out from between the halves of her flushed, modest camel toe.

"WOW!" I said, in a long exhale.

"Nate?"

"Yes?"

"Please. Fuck first, compliments later?" Then she spread her legs and reached towards me with her hands.

"Who am I to argue?" I smiled, and settled on top of her, and between her legs.

"Yesterday, I thought this impossible," she sighed, "and now I am in heaven! I have protection, so do whatever you like. But please do it now, and don't go easy. I want to feel how much you need me!"

Her big gasp when I entered her was rich with satisfaction. Her moans were immediate, and nearly continuous. As her breathing became short and sharp, her hips moved counter to mine, driving me into her. Her vocabulary became loud and pronounced selections of "Yes! Fuck! God! Nate!" I was nearly there, when her voice went really high, "Right There! Right There! Don't Stop!" I didn't, and her wild eyes closed, her legs shook, briefly, and then she screamed, "FUCK!!" before her body went stiff and jerked a couple times. When her body suddenly relaxed, she grabbed my butt, and drove herself against me, and held me tight as I gasped and grunted out, "Ciara!" as I came.

Then it was almost quiet, with the syncopated rhythms of our racing hearts, and our heaving chests displaying all the satisfaction that we held.

As our bodies calmed, I asked, "Was that okay, for the first time?"

"Geez...Men," she chuckled, and patted my back, "Do I need to fill out the survey now?! I'm going to give you performance anxiety if I tell that that was the best orgasm I have ever had, especially with so little foreplay!"

I rolled off, to her side, and grinned, "So that's a 'Yes'?"

Ciara laughed. Then her voice got softer, "Let's hope the governor extends the Stay-At-Home date. I can collect unemployment and get my brains fucked out, all day, every day. Sounds pretty fuckin' ideal to me! You up for that, Mr. Flagpole?"

"Well, we are a couple of lucky 13's, but we do have to take some time to, at least, move me into #114 by April 15^th. So we may have to spend a few hours that won't be in bed," I chuckled.

"That's a lot of lost, damn-good fucking time, mister. You are gonna owe me, big!"

"More IOU's?"

"You gonna complain if I collect"?

"Will there be interest charges?" I chuckled.

"Oh! With us Irish, there's always a hefty vig!"

I laughed, "You do know I am in love with you, Ciara Byrne, right?"

"Just a wee bit," she grinned, "but it willn't uh stop me from collectin' me due!"