Magnus and His Family Ch. 06

For Kristen, the first few weeks of class at Manhattan College were splendid. She thrived in classes in English, history, and art history, and she felt that her mind was almost literally expanding with all the new information and new perspectives she was taking in. She wasn't all that pleased with the fact that all her schoolmates were girls (well, technically we're women, aren't we?—since we're all over eighteen), but she couldn't help observing that some of her male teachers were kind of cute. But of course they were off limits. Weren't they?

The one course that was giving her trouble was Introductory Physics.

Manhattan had a science requirement: you needed to take (and, of course, pass) a full year of science in order to graduate. Kristen figured she'd best get that taken care of right away; she didn't want to be worrying about that during junior or senior year. Her high school hadn't been very strong on science—or, rather, Kristen hadn't been very enthusiastic about the subject during her years there, and now she came to regret it.

The class was a bear, and she was struggling.

She had thought that it would be a frivolous little course all about protons, neutrons, and electrons. But instead, she was bombarded with weird, incomprehensible entities like positrons, quarks, black holes, quasars, photons, and all manner of other oddities. And the textbook was written in such a way that it seemed to assume a lot of background knowledge of the subject—knowledge that Kristen simply didn't have. The teacher wasn't all that helpful, either: she got the sense that he felt it beneath his dignity to be teaching such a low-level course.

She noticed that some of the other girls were similarly floundering, so maybe it would all work out in the course of time. Sometimes she would even laugh at her predicament (the only black hole I know about is in my rear end!), but in her more serious moments she slowly began to realize that she was in danger of failing the class.

She needed help badly—and right away. So she turned to Adele Whitman.

Adele was a big girl—five foot ten at least. She wasn't fat—far from it; just big-boned. And she had plenty of nice curves in all the right places, especially at bust and posterior. She also had an achingly beautiful face: bright green eyes, slender nose, Cupid's-bow lips, and a delicate jawline, all framed by wavy, strawberry-blond hair that hung in bangs and ringlets all around that lovely face.

But she was smart—at least in physics.

It became clear that she was the teacher's pet almost from the start, and he would call on her several times during class to be a kind of informal teaching assistant to help the dolts and slowpokes (with whom Kristen gloomily lumped herself) to keep pace. So after one class, Kristen almost rushed to catch up with Adele as the girl was walking with surprising speed out of the room.

"Say, Adele!" Kristen called. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Adele turned around with a somewhat startled look on her face. Kristen had observed that not a lot of the other girls were talking to her, even though some of them needed her help a lot more than Kristen did. Maybe they were envious or resentful of Adele's mastery of the subject and were determined (futile hope!) to catch up on their own. But Kristen had no such excessive pride: she was no dope, as her excellence in other subjects testified; but she knew her limitations.

Catching up to her, Kristen went on, "This stuff is really hard! I wonder if you could help me."

A warm smile—almost one of gratitude—broke out on Adele's face, and Kristen felt something strange that she couldn't identify. (Man, this girl is going to make a man really happy someday—if she isn't already.) Kristen reached out to touch Adele's strong forearm. She had heard that the girl was one of the stars of the college lacrosse team, and she didn't wonder why.

"You want my help?" Adele said in a high-pitched but musical voice.

"God, yes!" Kristen cried. "I'm, like, just floundering here."

And that's how it began. The two girls began having lengthy late afternoon sessions in the library and elsewhere, and Adele patiently instructed Kristen about some of the stuff she needed to know that the textbook had neglected to explain. In the course of time, enlightenment began to dawn, and Kristen was more thankful than she could have said.

Adele also proved to be sweet, kind-hearted, and tolerant, and the two became fast friends. They made somewhat of an odd couple: Kristen, of medium height but slender; Adele, of imposing physique, but with that delicate face and blond hair giving her a strange air of vulnerability. Kristen noticed that, as the pair of them walked all over campus together, some of their fellow-students were giving them knowing smirks. Were they jealous of their friendship? But then another thought occurred to her: Omigod, they don't think we're . . .?

But Adele made her orientation quite clear in an unexpected way.

Their physics class was, dreadfully enough, at ten in the morning, and Kristen became aware that Adele sometimes barely made it on time, and on occasion she looked a little worn out. She chuckled at that, given that there were times when Magnus's demands on her body the previous night made her look a little droopy in the mornings too. But one day in late October Kristen brought up the subject after class, as they made their way to the cafeteria for some much-needed caffeine.

As they sat down with their tall lattes, Kristen said: "Man, you're looking a little the worse for wear today."

Adele gave Kristen a sour look. "I'm pretty tired, that's a fact."

"Rough night?" Kristen teased.

"I wish," Adele said.

"Your roommate being a bother?" Kristen said. All the girls who were staying in dorms had to have roommates during freshman year.

"No, she's fine. She's not even there very much."

"Then what gives?"

Adele gazed at her friend, but fell into a deep silence. Kristen simply waited for her to say something. Finally, after swallowing hard, Adele said in a desperate whisper: "Oh, God, I want a guy!"

Kristen almost spit out the coffee she had just sipped. It took immense restraint not to burst out laughing.

"What do you mean, you want a guy? You mean—for . . .?" She made some obscene gestures with her hands.

"Of course! What else?" Adele snapped.

Suddenly a wave of empathy washed over Adele. Here was a big, beautiful girl yearning for intimacy with a man—and they were stuck in this women's college where the male of the species was a pretty rare specimen. I have a guy—someone named Magnus—to tend to my needs in that direction, but what's Adele going to do? She can't take up with a professor or a janitor or anyone like that. And yet, there must be guys somewhere who would be delighted to wrap this Amazon in their arms.

"Adele, it's not that hard to find a man," Kristen said.

"Oh, yeah?" Adele said hotly. "And where am I to find one in this big nunnery?"

Kristen did laugh at that. "It's not as bad as that. But I guess you'll have to leave campus to find someone."

"Well, I don't know my way around very well yet. So"—she turned away as she said this—"I have to do the next best thing."

"You mean . . .?" Kristen said, although she knew exactly what Adele meant.

"That's right," Adele said lugubriously, making rubbing motions in the direction of her groin.

Kristen slapped a hand over her mouth. "You really have the urge that bad?"

"I can't help it!" Adele cried out, not caring who heard her. Then, returning to her tense whisper, "I do it every day!"

"Every day?" Kristen said, aghast. "Oh, come on—only guys do that. Girls don't—"

"Well, I do. And I have to do it in the morning. My roommate has a nine o'clock class, so she leaves the room even earlier than I do. So that gives me just enough time to, um, take care of my needs before I have to trudge on over to class. Do you wonder that I look a little fatigued sometimes?"

"I guess not," Kristen said, grinning.

"And for God's sake, sometimes I have to do it at night too! I'm not even sure my roommate is asleep. I try to do myself as quietly as I can—which I hate to do—but even so, I think she knows what I'm doing. She gives me funny looks sometimes."

When Kristen, stupefied, said nothing, Adele went on, "You must think I'm some sort of sex maniac."

"No, no," Kristen managed to say. "It's a natural need—everyone has it. But we really do have to get you a man."

Adele suddenly looked frightened. "That's another thing. I'm a little scared."

"Scared?" Kristen cried. "Scared of what?" Then the truth struck her like a Mack truck. "Oh, Adele, you're not a virgin, are you?" she whispered.

"Of course I am!" Adele spat. "I'm only eighteen."

"But—but you're so pretty!"

"Yeah, well, tell that to the guys who rejected me—or who never even looked at me." She looked Kristen intently in the face. "Look, girl. I've always been big—and you know how girls shoot up way ahead of boys. So a lot of the guys who literally had to look up at me were angry that I towered over them, and they wanted nothing to do with me. Other guys thought I was too heavy—"

"You're no such thing!" Kristen exclaimed.

"Yeah, well, they thought I was. They all want anorexic girls they can pick up with one arm."

"Not all guys want that kind of girl," Kristen said half under her breath.

"Well, let's just say that most guys wouldn't give me the time of day. Anyway, the point is, here I am, 'untouched,' as they say, and I don't know what to do about it."

"Adele, honestly, you're making way too much of this. Guys are desperate to get into a girl's pants. All you have to do is stand on the street-corner and—"

But the moment she said that, Kristen realized what a blunder it was.

All the color drained out of Adele's face. "Do you really think," she said in outrage, "that that's what I'm going to do? It'll make me feel like a—"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that most girls can get a guy with the snap of their fingers. I know you can."

"It's not just that," Adele said, lapsing again into misery. "It's that some guys seem to get freaked out if they're with a virgin."

"You mean the blood and stuff?"

"Yeah. I mean, what if I really like a guy, and then we—do it, and I bleed and cry, and he just takes to the hills?"

"Oh, some guys seem to take a certain pleasure in deflowering a virgin. You know, a kind of notch on their belt."

"Yeah, maybe . . ." Adele said. "But what if he does get all weird? If I really like the guy, I might lose him because of all the mess."

Then Kristen came out with the thought that had entered her mind from almost the moment this strange conversation began.

"Listen, I think I can help you with your problem."

"Is that so?" Adele said with immense skepticism.

"Yeah. I mean it. What you want to do is to come to my house sometime—maybe on a Saturday afternoon."

"Afternoon? What the hell do you have in mind?"

"Just come by. Here, I'll text you the address." And Kristen did that in a matter of seconds.

Adele looked at her own phone as if it were possessed by a demon. Looking up from it and peering intently at Kristen, she said, "You mean to say you're going to arrange to have some guy—"

"Just come on over, okay? That's all I'm going to say."

And with that, she tripped away.

*

Kristen could not, of course, have said who was going to service Adele; the girl would have totally freaked out if she knew ahead of time. Once Adele was there, she would presumably go through with the plan out of sheer eagerness at the thought of dispensing with her hated virginity.

Then, of course, there was the matter of persuading her father to go along with the plan—but, as Kristen chuckled to herself, she didn't think that would be a huge problem. She momentarily gave some thought to summoning one of Magnus's underlings—one of those who had so thoroughly enjoyed her body in that gangbang session a few weeks before (and the next session was coming up pretty soon)—to do the job, but then she thought better of it. Best to go right to the head honcho!

So after she had prepared an extra-special dinner for her father—fried chicken, roasted potatoes, string beans, and a chocolate layer cake (store-bought) for dessert—she sat on the sofa in the living room, patted the cushion next to hers, and said:

"Daddy, come here, will you? I'd like to talk about something."

Magnus, thoroughly satisfied with the meal and looking forward to watching a movie (either with his daughter or—if she had to study—by himself), obliged, wrapping an arm around Kristen's shoulders.

"What's up, kitten?" he said amiably.

"Oh, nothing," Kristen said lightly. "It's just that there's this friend of mine. Her name's Adele."

"Pretty name," Magnus said casually. "So you've made friends with her? Good for you."

"Yeah, she's really sweet. And smart, too! She's helped me a ton in this horrible physics class I'm in."

"I'm not sure it was such a good idea for you to sign up for that class, dear."

"Yes, well, it's too late now—I can't switch classes this late in the semester. But that's not what I wanted to talk about. It's about her."

"What about her?"

"Well, she has a bit of a problem . . ." And Kristen proceeded to explain exactly what the problem was.

Magnus listened to his daughter with a blank look on his face. After she finished, he sat silent for what seemed like minutes. Then:

"Darling, you really can't expect me to—"

"Why not, Daddy?" Kristen cried. "You're just about the perfect man to do the job! You're sweet and kind and gentle and caring, and you can explain everything there is to know about what a guy wants in that situation."

"I'm not so sure about that, dear."

"Of course you are, Daddy! I can't think of a better person—"

"Look," Magnus said urgently, "all apart from the morality of the situation, there's one basic point that you're overlooking."

"What's that?"

He looked down at his groin. "I'm, um, shall we say, a little on the large side—down there."

Kristen had the good grace to blush a little. "Well, yes, there is that."

"I don't want to hurt her."

"Well, Daddy, you didn't hurt me all that much! And she's a lot bigger than I am."

"Being physically bigger doesn't mean it's going to hurt less."

"Oh, Daddy, I really don't think it's such a big deal. I mean, the pain is just what a girl has to go through."

"And the blood."

"Yes, yes, and the blood."

"I think this is a pretty big deal—emotionally as well as physically."

"Okay, maybe, but I'm certain you're the guy for her! She just wants to get this over with so that she can hunt around for a guy of her own age to be with."

"In all honesty, dear, I think you should do that too. You don't want to be with me forever."

"Sure thing, Daddy. One thing at a time. So will you do this for me?" And of course Kristen gave him her most adorably pleading look.

Magnus sighed. "All right, dear. But I'm still not sure it's the right thing to do."

"Oh, Daddy, everything will be fine!" She threw her arms around Magnus's neck and gave him a big, wet, sloppy kiss on the mouth. Then she ran upstairs—ostensibly to study, but more likely to get out of Magnus's earshot so that he couldn't change his mind.

Magnus watched her go. He turned on a movie he had taped on the DVR, but he later realized that he didn't remember a thing about it.

*

It was decided that Adele should come by around 4 p.m. on that Saturday. Kristen also checked to make sure where Adele was in her monthly cycle—nobody wanted her to get pregnant! That part of the business was fine, but as Kristen parted with her friend on Friday after physics class, she saw Adele standing there looking like a lost little child who didn't know what was in store for her.

When 4 p.m. came, there was no Adele. As the minutes passed, Kristen was beginning to fear that Adele had changed her mind, and she was preparing all manner of things to say to her on Monday when she saw her again. But then, about ten minutes later, Adele showed up.

"Sorry," she said after being let into the house, "I couldn't find the way."

Kristen was skeptical of that. Everyone has GPS nowadays. No way anybody can get lost. But she decided not to make anything of it. "That's okay, there's plenty of time."

Adele's eyes widened at that seemingly innocent statement. Plenty of time for what?

As she entered the house, Adele looked around in wonderment. "You live here? Wow, this is such a big house just for you and your dad!"

"Yeah, I know," Kristen acknowledged. "It didn't seem so big when my mom and brother lived here."

It was only now that Magnus walked slowly down the stairs and into the living room. He was only wearing a robe.

"Oh, Daddy!" Kristen enthused. "This is Adele. I told you about her."

Magnus approached her gravely and extended a hand. "Hello, Adele."

"Hello, Mr. Larsen," Adele said casually, although she couldn't help being impressed by Magnus's size and girth. She turned back to Kristen, with a wondering look on her face. She didn't need to say what was on her mind: Where's this guy who you promised would give me a lesson in sex?

Then, as she became aware that there was no one else in the house except the three of them, and as she noticed that that robe draped over Magnus was probably covering his nude body, a hand went to her mouth.

"Oh, Kristen, no!" she whispered, wide-eyed.

"Adele," Kristen cooed, "Daddy will show you a wonderful time. His name is Magnus. You can call him that. No need for formality now!" She let out a ribald chuckle.

Adele's mind was in a whirl. You're not going to tell me that this man—who could be my father as easily as he is yours—is going to deflower me! Why didn't you let me know?

She turned to look at Magnus—and was instantly calmed (a little) by his placid gray eyes and gentle bearing. He was as poles apart from some lascivious rake as a man could possibly be. But still . . .

"Would you like to go upstairs?" he said in that resonant bass voice of his.

Adele allowed him to take her hand and lead her in the direction of the stairs. She looked over her shoulder at her friend.

"Kristen, what are you going to do?" she said with some alarm.

"Oh, I may just go for a walk around the block—maybe several walks around the block!"

And with that, Kristen actually bolted out the door, slamming it behind her.

By now, Adele was following Magnus up the stairs like someone under hypnosis. At the upstairs landing she saw the master bedroom, with what looked like an immense bed covered with comfortable blankets. The mere sight of it made her shiver.

Magnus left the bedroom door open, in the hope that that might reassure Adele a little. It didn't, and she stood irresolute in the middle of the room.

"So," she said almost inaudibly, "what happens now?"

"Well," Magnus said placidly, "maybe we should get more comfortable."

Turning his back on her, he let the robe fall to the floor. He really was naked underneath. Adele gasped as she saw the strong, muscular back and shoulders—and the round, firm bottom, leading to the thick thighs and surprisingly delicate calves and feet. She couldn't stop gazing at that bottom.

And when he turned around, she saw him—and his member—in all its glory.

It was her first glimpse at the male organ, and the sight of it made her clap a hand to her mouth again. It was getting hard in front of her eyes, rising inexorably to an almost horizontal position as Magnus displayed himself for this girl whom he had met only minutes before.