For the Love of Holly

"Usually, I just take off my shoes, socks, and jeans and sleep in my t-shirt and boxers."

"OK, I sleep in a big t-shirt or one of my football jerseys. I'll change in the bathroom and get in bed, then you can undress in the bathroom. I'll turn the bedroom light off so we won't be able to see each other when you come to bed. It'll be completely innocent."

I remembered how innocent I definitely did not feel when I woke up with her breast in my hand and my cock poking her ass the other morning.

Holly wasn't giving up easily. "I make a mean blueberry waffle. I have a new toothbrush you can have. I washed your shirt from the other night, so you'll have a clean shirt for school. And I just want to be near you. Please, James?"

"The waffle did it," I laughed. "Come on, girl, let's go inside."

Holly got us some sodas, and then sat down at her computer. "I want to see what's going on with those websites," she said.

She keyed in an address, and a picture of the outside of the kitchen came on screen, with a large group of our customers milling around outside. The shot must have been taken just before we had opened for Thanksgiving dinner. There were tabs that led to pages about the foundation, a brief profile of Ma, our mission statement, the annual reports from the last five fiscal years, and a projection of the expenses for the coming year, along with our projection of the number of meals which would need to be served, showing a severe shortage in funds. There was also a link to the Culinary Arts school's fundraiser website. At the bottom of each page on the website was the phone number for pledges.

Holly clicked on the link to the fundraiser. Of course, there was a link to the Technical Institute's main website, but the primary thrust of the site was our class' fundraiser. The first page included a video file of the 11 o'clock news feature story we had watched. There were tabs that showed pictures of the treats we were preparing, along with a description of each item, a downloadable order form, a price list, a "contact us" tab which allowed the reader to e-mail the school for more information, an on-line contribution pledge page, and, of course, the main toll-free number for making pledges.

"Let's call the pledge line," I said.

"Good idea," Holly said. "We can pledge the money we were going to spend on decorations."

The phone rang, and a very professional female voice recording told us a little about the kitchen and the fundraising campaign, with Christmas carols playing softly in the background. Eventually, a live male voice came on the line. "Hello, thank you for calling the South Street Community Kitchen donation line. I'm Mike Samuels. How can I help you?"

"Mike Samuels?" I said. "Aren't you the TV guy who was at the kitchen on Thanksgiving?"

"Yes, I am. How can I help you?"

"I'm James Summers. I work at the kitchen. You interviewed me."

"Oh yes, James, I remember you."

"Why are you answering this phone?"

"Hah! This pledge line has gotten so busy that station management asked staff to donate some time to help out. I was there at the kitchen, James. How could I refuse? Some of our radio dj's are here, along with some staffers from the paper. Right now, there are about ten of us taking calls. Now, I don't want to seem rude, but we have some callers on hold, so is there anything I can do for you?"

"I'd like to make a donation. It's not much, but it's all I can afford."

"You probably know better than I do that every penny helps," Mike said. "We've had everything from pledges of $5000 and more from local businessmen down to a three-year old kid who emptied her piggy bank on the receptionist's desk at the studio. That little girl gave $1.87. It was everything she had. Her picture will be on page one of the morning paper."

I quickly made my donation pledge, Mike thanked me, and I hung up the phone.

Holly said, "Was that supposed to include my money too?"

"No," I said, "I kind of forgot you wanted to give too. I guess you'll have to call back."

"But James, that was twice the amount you said you were going to spend on decorations."

"I know, but I guess I just got carried away. It's OK, the kitchen needs it."

"You're such a sweet guy," Holly said. "I'll call in my pledge tomorrow. It's late. Let's go to bed."

We went into Holly's room, and she pulled a well-worn football jersey out of her bureau. "Be right back," she said, heading to the bathroom. I could hear her in there, and my mind was picturing what she might look like as she undressed. In a few minutes, she came out. The jersey was short, and I could see all of her smooth, beautifully shaped legs. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra, since I could see her pointy nipples poking against the fabric. When she got in bed, I got a glimpse of a pair of tiny pink panties which did a poor job of covering her luscious-looking ass. I swallowed hard.

"Are you just going to stand there, silly, or are you going to get ready for bed?" she teased. "If you're too shy, I'll turn the light off when you come out of the bathroom."

"OK, yes, I want you to turn the light off," I said as I closed the bathroom door behind me.

I quickly stripped down to my boxers and t-shirt, brushed my teeth, and then came out. True to her word, Holly had the light off. There was a small nightlight on the one wall that helped me navigate to the bed. I pulled back the covers and climbed in next to her.

"I thought you were sleeping on top of the sheet," Holly giggled as she snuggled in against me.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry!" I started to get out of bed, but Holly grabbed my arm.

"It's OK, I trust you. I know what your feelings are, and I respect them. But please, James, will you hold me until I fall asleep?"

I looked at her. In the dim light, I could make out all the lovely features of her face. I began to lightly stroke her hair with my fingers, and then to caress her face. "You're beautiful, Holly."

"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself," Holly said as she smiled. Her dimples always became very pronounced when she smiled.

I leaned in to kiss her mouth. It wasn't long until our kisses changed from warm to hot. God, I wanted this girl. I wanted to make love to her. I wanted to be in love with her, all of her -- mind, body, and soul. But I just couldn't let myself.

Without even realizing it, I had moved my one hand down to Holly's breast. Her nipple was hard, straining against her thin shirt. I felt her legs part, and my one thigh went between hers. Her hand was stroking my back, then my hip, and then began to work its way forward toward my very erect cock that was threatening to pop out of my boxers.

I forced myself to regain control of my feelings. "Holly, I can't do this. I'm just not ready. If I make love to you, I want it to be because I love you, not just because I want you. Can you understand that?"

"I understand, James. You're special. You're not like some of the guys I've gone out with, who want the physical part first, and wait to see if an emotional bond can develop. I like you the way you are, and I respect that." She kissed me again, passionately, and then more gently. Finally, she said, "May I go to sleep with my head on your chest?"

"I wish you would," I whispered.

Nothing more really happened that night. I woke up a few times as we shifted our positions in our sleep. One time, I found myself spooned tightly against Holly, my hand over her breast, and her hand holding it in place. Another time, I felt her spooning against my back. I think the thing that woke me was her hand against my cock, although I could tell by her breathing that she was asleep.

In the morning, Holly kissed me awake. "Breakfast is almost ready," she said. I opened my eyes to the wonderful sight of Holly leaning over me. I doubt she realized it, but I could see down the neck of her jersey, with a good shot of her breasts. If the neck opening had been just the slightest bit looser, I would have been able to see her nipples. I quickly rolled on my side, hoping she didn't notice how my body reacted to the view.

"I have to get back in the kitchen before things start burning," she said. "Get up, sleepy-head."

God, what was I going to do? Should I just give in to temptation, throw caution to the wind, and let myself go with this girl?

"James, get up! I'm serving your food," Holly called from her kitchen.

I quickly stuffed my hard-on into my jeans, attempted to adjust myself to not be conspicuous, and went to the kitchen.

Holly was already seated. There was a plate of steaming blueberry waffles in front of both of us, along with grapefruit halves and mugs of coffee. In the center of her small table between us, there was a plate of nicely browned sausage links.

"You make a hell of a breakfast," I said.

"I believe that breakfast is the most important meal of the day," Holly said, "so I like to have a good one."

As we ate, we talked about what the coming week was going to bring. I knew it was going to be busy, with less than two weeks until the fundraiser and less than four weeks until Christmas. I wondered how much time I would get to spend with Holly away from the kitchen.

When we were done eating, Holly said, "You go and shower while I do the dishes. You have a longer trip to school than I do. If I catch the 7:40 bus at the corner, I'll make it to class on time."

I went in the bathroom, and got in the shower. When I got out, I found my clean shirt folded on the vanity. I knew it hadn't been there when I had gotten in the shower, which meant Holly must have come into the room while I bathed.

I was standing in front of the mirror, dressed only in my boxers, drying my hair, when Holly came in.

"I heard the water shut off, and I figured you'd be decent by now. I'm sorry, but I have to get my butt in gear."

When I realized she was going to strip right there, I turned away. That meant I was looking in the mirror, which was really no better. I stood mesmerized, watching Holly pull her jersey over her head. Her belly was flat, smooth, and beautiful. Next I saw her breasts, perky, medium-sized, perfectly shaped, with small pink areola and erect, pencil-eraser nipples. As if that wasn't enough, she then slipped off her little pink panties. Her puffy little mound sported a tiny triangle of close-cropped blond hair, but the rest of her sex appeared to be clean-shaven. Oh God, how I fought for control!

I don't know if Holly caught me looking. She quickly got in the shower and pulled the curtain, which I now realized was translucent. I shook my head to clear it, and finished getting dressed. "Holly, I've got to go," I said.

"Wait, James!" she cried. She leaned her wet head out of the shower, holding the curtain against her body in a poor attempt to hide herself. "Can I have a kiss goodbye?"

Resisting the urge to tear my clothes off and jump in the shower with her was one of the most difficult things I've ever done. But I did resist. I gave Holly a nice, warm kiss and then fled the apartment.

I was in a trance when I got to class. All I could think about was Holly. I'm sure I looked like a complete idiot when Mr. Fredricks had to say, loudly, "Mr. Summers, it was good of you to bring your body to class today, but I was hoping that you would have brought your brain, too! Would you be kind enough to pay attention to what's going on in here?"

I snapped myself out of it, and did manage to pay attention. The gist of what Mr. Summers was saying was that our fundraiser had the potential to be the biggest thing the school had ever done. Although there would normally be both a written and a performance exam at the end of the semester which would count as half of our grade, he had decided to eliminate the formal exam and to grade us solely on our performance in relation to the fundraiser. That was good to hear. Between my job, my work at the kitchen, the fundraiser, and my new preoccupation with Holly, I couldn't imagine how I would have found time to cram for a written final exam.

Every waking moment that week that I did not spend at my job was devoted to preparing for the fundraiser. I did manage to call Holly a few times, but she was busy, too, since she was going to have to endure the horrors of finals in her courses.

Saturday dawned cold and wet, with a forecast of freezing rain and snow late in the day, so I knew the kitchen was going to be packed. JZ was the first one I saw when I got to the kitchen. "My man," he said with a huge grin, "get your white ass into the dining room!"

I was amazed. Chris K. and his "elves" had transformed our plain, somewhat dingy mess hall into a bright, cheerful Christmas wonderland. Tiny colored lights sparkled everywhere, the windows (which the elves had washed) were festooned with candy canes, sugarplums, wreaths, and snowflakes, and the tree was magnificent.

"Damn, boy, your Santa wannabe buddy did a hell of a job on this place, didn't he?" JZ said. "Holly come in all excited on Monday and told me about it, but man, you shoulda seen the look on her face the first time she seen it. I was with her, and I thought she was 'bout ready to pass out! Ma sure was happy, too. Wait till she sees you. She gonna crush you with one of them big hugs."

"Yeah," Yolanda said as she came into the room, "I gotta give the new Saint of South Street a big hug myself before Ma squeezes the life outta you. James, I knew you could do big things!"

Holly came in shortly afterward. "Ma wants to talk to us. Come on," she said with a grin.

When we found Ma, she said, "Come here, you two. I don't know what all you've been up to, but I'm at a complete loss for words! Kids, I'm so happy. The dining room looks so wonderful. A lot of our regulars have sought me out to tell us how happy they are to see the place all fixed up for Christmas. Their kids are happy, because a lot of them have never had Christmas with a tree and lights before. Good lord, I bet some of them have never had Christmas indoors! This was the best surprise ever!

"And there's more. James, I guess you didn't know about this, since I think you would have told me, but the construction trades classes at your school are going to start work after the holidays on a project here. There's a lot of un-improved vacant space in this old factory building. They're going to expand our kitchen and dining area and then renovate the existing part. All the materials and equipment are being donated by local companies, and most of the work will be done at night after the dining room closes. They've even gotten grant money to hire and pay some of the neighborhood people for general labor help. This is a dream come true! Now come here and let your old Ma give you a big hug."

When I was able to breathe again after Ma's bear hug, I said, "I talked to my probation officer. He's given me permission to leave right after lunch next Saturday so I can be at our fundraiser, if that's OK with you."

"Of course it is, James. He already called me. I told him we needed your help here, of course, but I also told him that the help you were giving us with the fundraiser was even more important. Plus, I understand from your Mr. Fredricks that you're sort of required to be there," Ma said.

"I could have worked it out with Mr. Fredricks so I would have still gotten credit for the fundraiser if my P.O. and you wouldn't have agreed, but thank you. I guess the fundraiser should be my first priority next weekend," I said.

The day went by quickly. At the end of the day, I took Holly home, went home and got cleaned up, and then went back to her place to take her out for a late dinner.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Holly asked.

"I have to be up at dawn to go over to school to do some prep work for the fundraiser. Hell, it seems that's all I've done all week. After the fundraiser is over, my life should return to normal. I'll make it up to you, I swear. It's killing me not to be able to spend time with you. Can you forgive me?"

"Oh James, don't be silly, of course I forgive you. This is very important to you, and it's something you have to do for school. These courses are for your future. Just know that I'll be thinking of you," Holly said, "and if there's anything I can do to help, I will."

The following week was completely crazy. I went to school early every morning, stayed as late as I dared without making myself late for my job, and then went home and collapsed. By Saturday, I was actually dreading the fundraiser.

Saturday at the kitchen, the fundraiser was all anyone could talk about. Everyone on staff wished me luck, and some of our customers spoke to me to offer their best wishes and their thanks, too. As soon as I could, I left the kitchen, rushed home, showered, dressed in my freshly pressed white pants, shirt with the school logo, and toque (the floppy white headpiece traditional chefs wear). And then I raced to school.

The place was a madhouse of activity. The local TV station was doing a live feed from the school, as was the AM radio station and one of the FM stations. All of my classmates were psyched, and Mr. Fredricks was beaming. I got to work.

Just before the opening time, Mr. Fredricks pulled me away from the others. "James, I want to talk to you."

"What is it, Mr. Fredricks?"

"Have you seen the final guest list?" he asked.

"No. I know it was being circulated in class yesterday, but I was too busy to look at it."

"James, every major restaurant in this city is going to have at least one person here, either the master chef or the owner. Several luxury resorts are sending people to sample our wares. The food critics from our own paper, and from several out of town papers are going to be here. Every member of the school's board of directors is coming. The mayor and his wife are going to be here, along with several state legislators, and the governor's office bought four tickets. I just thought you should know what you started. And by the way, you've got an A+ for the semester. Now, let's see what job offers you get."

"Thanks, Mr. Fredricks. But let's not count this as a success until it's over," I said.

"I guess you're right, James, but I hope you realize that none of this would have happened if it weren't for you," he said. Then Mr. Fredricks clapped his hands loudly. "OK, people. This is it. The doors open in five minutes. It's showtime!"

The crowd was impressive. Men in suits or evening clothes and women in elegant gowns sampled our wares. The people manning the tables where orders were being taken had to make several trips to the copier for more forms. Credit cards were being processed as quickly as possible, and our till filled rapidly with checks and cash. There was an additional table, which we only thought to set up at the last minute, which actually had a line of people making donations, above and beyond what they were spending at our little "bake sale."

About an hour before our 9pm closing time, one of my classmates poked me in the ribs. "Isn't that the woman from the kitchen and that girl she brought along to our meetings at Mr. Fredricks' house?"

I looked where he was pointing. There was Ma, in an ivory floor-length evening dress. Even though it probably used enough fabric to make dresses for three normal-sized women, the dress looked wonderful on her. Next to her stood JZ. He was wearing a purple crushed velvet tuxedo, with matching purple do-rag. On his arm was Yolanda, who actually looked classy for once. And then I saw Holly. She had her hair up in an elegant, formal style, and was wearing the classic "little black dress," black stiletto heels, and an onyx choker necklace.

"My God," my classmate said, "that chick is gorgeous! You work with her at the kitchen, right? You gotta introduce me."

"Don't count on it," I said.

When they made it over to my table, Ma crushed me in one of her massive hugs. "Jimmy-boy," she said, "you've made a fat old woman very happy."