My Friend's Daughter: Kristin Pt. 03

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The summer flew by with our affair in full bloom. Kristin had spent most of her time at her restaurant job and with me, but had also stayed in touch with her parents, though naturally I remained persona non grata at the Anderson household. My guilt had not eased at all in this regard, but it was still the most wonderful summer of my life.

I continued taking photographs of her, building a portfolio for a potential modeling side-gig, though the best shots were the ones just for us. These "sauce shots" as she called them, weren't pornography, they were a celebration of her essence, which included her physical self, though sometimes, the panty-less up-skirt portraits she insisted I take in public verged on the obscene.

Once in a while, she requested I shoot photographs during sex, though I tried to keep myself out of them. The point-of-view blowjob and fucking photographs were more fun than anything else, and Kristin used to enjoy looking at them together, usually followed by more sex. It was a delicious circle. Kristin was in her prime, and oddly enough, so was I, so it felt right that the physical aspects of our relationship were at the heart of it.

Fall rolled around and it was time for a new chapter as Kristin was starting college, after much encouragement from me, and apparently her parents, one of the few things we could have agreed on at that point. She was in her element, sparkling with joy and excitement at her new life, and we remained as hot for each other as ever. Not a day went by when she wouldn't instigate sex, sometimes a quickie fuck somewhere, sometimes an elongated game. She was unpredictable, and I felt like the luckiest middle-aged man in the world.

We frequently dined out. It was Friday night and that usually meant alcohol and epicurean delights, because she always had that night off work. During dinner, a friend of hers spied us and approached the table. She was an attractively busty gal, a little older than Kristin.

"Hey girl" she said, and pulled up a chair uninvited. As usual in these situations, I froze and stayed away from the action.

"Hiya Lucy," Kristin replied and they exchanged European cheek kisses and laughed.

"Is this your dad?" Lucy said to Kris, while staring at me flirtatiously. My girl was about to reply, but Lucy started whispering in her ear, laughing, while Kristin made a grimace face in my direction. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened, and while it amused Kristin, it usually made me feel awkward. It had become a running joke among her colleagues at the restaurant, which I started to avoid.

Lucy winked at me, clearly three sheets to the wind. Kristin obviously didn't think it was worth it to correct her and made a silent gesture for us to split. I drank up and paid the bill, while Kristin and Lucy continued to giggle at my expense. It was just one of those things that I had to deal with, and was hardly the end of the world.

"She asked me if you were single," Kristin said nonchalantly as we walked to the car.

"And...?" I replied, somewhat exasperated.

"I told her you were, but usually out fucking some hot young thing. A real fucking Don Juan Lothario," she said laughing, though I didn't.

All I could do was shrug. "You didn't feel the need to set her straight?" I suggested, and it was Kristin's turn to shrug. She clearly didn't think much of it, and we didn't discuss it the rest of the night.

"What's the craziest place you can think of where I could suck your dick?" she said matter-of-factly while I was driving. I couldn't help but think about it. "Or where you could eat me out," she went on, seemingly lost in these thoughts. "I could get hired as a stripper and give you a lap dance, but actually let you fuck me without anyone noticing. It's pretty dark in those places." She was rambling.

"I wouldn't know," I lied, and Kristin looked at me incredulously.

"Under my desk at work?" I suggested. Kristin didn't sound too impressed.

"Eh. Right now. I want to do something a little wild," she went on. A lot wild, more like, but we had different definitions of wildness. "I know," she said, with an air of finality. "Drive to the park with the fire pit," she ordered. I knew the place. It was a nice, quiet spot where people would go after dark and roast marshmallows or whatever. We'd been there before, but only for wholesome fun.

We pulled up and Kristin got out of the car. "Come on, babe," she said and held my hand, leading me to the spot. The fire pit was burning, emitting a low light; there were plenty of shadows, but I couldn't imagine a spot where we could indulge ourselves orally and not get arrested, because there were a few couples dotted around the place.

There were a few open seats near the pit, but Kristin ignored those and decided on a slightly more secluded area off to the side. She pulled a chair away, said "hiya everyone" in a sweet way and brought the chair to her elected spot. "Sit," she whispered. I sat down. We were fifteen feet from the other couples, who were talking amongst themselves and having a cozy time. I could see them, and occasionally hear what they were saying, but Kristin and I were largely obscured by some shrubbery, which was obviously why she chose it. The other couples didn't seem to notice or care.

Kristin leaned down, unzipped my fly, licked her lips and looked at me, her face inches from mine. She gave me a quick peck on the lips and pulled my cock out. I was already hard of course, because I usually was in her presence. Kristin quickly looked around to check if the coast was clear, which it kind of was, turned around, pulled up her dress a little, and sat down. Of course she wasn't wearing any panties, why would she be?

Kristin slowly lowered herself onto my hard cock, all the while looking at the other couples around the fire. I was too caught in the rapture of her sweet pussy surrounding my throbbing meat to be able to process what was happening. I grabbed her tits and thrust myself deep inside her, and she responded with a spasm and a moan. She leaned her head back on my shoulder, looked me in the eye and said "fuck me, daddy," and I was too in the moment to care about all that that implied.

We gently fucked without a sound, all the while Kristin was looking over at the people around the fire pit. I noticed another couple under a tree some distance away, unseen before, and I imagined they might have been able to tell what we were doing, but I didn't care. The unmistakable tiny squeak and the shudder of Kristin's body could only mean one thing, so I finished inside her. It was beyond belief, and I imagine my face would have given everything away if someone had looked over. Maybe they did. I was dazed.

Kristin stood up and wiped my dick on her floral dress, which I found to be utterly hilarious and I couldn't help but laugh, which caught the attention of the fire pit dwellers for the first time. I'm sure I blushed. "Put that monster away, Mr. Bailey," Kristin said then bounced over to the pit. "Mind if we join you?" she said, breaking the spell of the evening. Everyone shrugged welcomingly while I limped over. They had to have known.

On the drive home, I was too shocked and in awe to find words for what had happened, and Kristin was happy to simply bask in the afterglow of our love. "My folks want to have a meeting with all of us," she said calmly, and that was that.

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And now, readers, here are two endings to the story, depending if you prefer the tragic/romantic or the feel-good escapist fantasy. I wrote the sad one first, but it was too depressing, and knew there would be complaints, rightfully so. So. First of all, here's the escapist fantasy, the HAPPY ENDING:

A fair amount of time had passed since Kristin's parents, my former best friends, had discovered our dreaded secret. For Kristin, it was time to heal wounds, and I was optimistic that love would indeed, conquer all. That week, I went shopping for a ring, and would let Kristin decide on what our future would be.

I arrived at their house as agreed, and Kristin let me in. She was dressed in jeans and a white top, probably in an attempt to appear conservative, but my heart swelled at the sight of her. I was so completely in love. She gestured for me to come in, and I sat down at the table where her parents were already sitting, unable to make eye-contact at first, but feeling hopeful. There was a meal on the table, and Kristin helped everyone to the food she had prepared, and started to speak.

"The three of you are the people I love most in the world," she began, and held both my hand and that of her mother Kate, seated on her other side. I looked at them for the first time that day. "I know this situation isn't what anyone could have predicted, but this is what was meant to be," she continued. I felt myself tearing up and noticed the same in Bill's eyes.

She went on. "Mom, dad, I know you feel angry and disappointed in Michael and I," she paused to gather herself, then went on. "But there's a reason why this man here is your best and oldest friend, because he's the most wonderful man in the world, aside from you, dad, and I love him as much as you always have." She stopped and the tears flowed all round. No one spoke, but I started playing with the box in my pocket, which held the ring I had bought for Kristin, the ring that would decide everything.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you. It wasn't on purpose. Michael acted nobly and gentlemanly, but we were swept up by the tide. It was inevitable. I'm sorry." she said again, and collapsed in tears. Both her mother and father comforted her, and it seemed to me that they loved her too much to be angry any more. Perhaps they realized that they would rather accept our relationship than lose her. Bill looked at me and made a pained face of resignation, but none of us spoke.

After a few minutes of silence, Kristin wiped her tears and raised a glass. She looked at me, then her parents imploringly and said, heartbreakingly, "please accept us into your hearts and home, because without you all, all there is is heartbreak. I love you all so much," she crumbled, and the tears erupted once again. I moved my hand to my glass, glanced at Bill and Kate and noticed their hands were on their stems too. My face said it all, that I was sorry, that it was fate, I was weak, but I only meant to bring their daughter joy and fulfillment. Kate raised her glass, gazed at her daughter lovingly and drank. We all drank in turn, and finished the meal together without words.

At the end of the evening, I hugged Bill and Kate and told them I loved them.

"We love you too, Michael," Bill said sadly and I felt that the healing process had begun.

Kristin and I left together, waving goodbye to her darling parents on their porch, and drove off. Back at our place, I took her coat as I often did, put my hands on her shoulders, looked deeply into her eyes and asked to reach into my pocket. "Really? Now, Michael, baby? You're hot for my pussy already?" she said, laughing, misunderstanding my request as an overture to sex.

Nevertheless, she complied and soon found the little box hiding there. She looked at me quizzically, as I got down on one knee in front of her. It was obvious what it was, and what was happening. "Oh Michael," she said, and opened the box eagerly.

"Will you marry me, Kristin, the love of my life?" I said, having rehearsed the line a thousand times, determined not to mess it up. I looked up and saw my girl smile, then slip the ring on her finger.

"Mrs. Bailey," she said as I stood up and faced her. "I like the sound of that."

The End

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And now, for all you dark sad sacks (like me) out there who demand something darker, here's the UNHAPPY/REALISTIC ending:

A fair amount of time had passed since Kristin's parents, my former best friends, had discovered our dreaded secret. For Kristin, it was time to heal wounds, but I couldn't see it happening. If I had been in Bill's position, I would have reacted exactly the same way, and I doubted there could be room for forgiveness or reconciliation. The night of the meeting came, and as arranged, I came to their house alone, as Kristin was already there.

Kristin let me in. She was dressed in jeans and a white top, probably in an attempt to appear conservative, but my heart swelled at the sight of her. I was so completely in love. She gestured for me to come in, and her father Bill was already sitting at the table with a mostly imbibed glass of red wine in front of him. He looked up at us and nodded half-heartedly.

I sat down but didn't speak, just feeling like shit. Kristin seemed OK, though, endeavoring to be positive. She kissed her dad on the cheek then sat down between us, holding my hand. No food or drink was offered and I didn't ask. Kristin grabbed a glass, filled it with wine and drank it down. She refilled it, offered some to me, but I declined silently. I needed to be repentant.

Without warning, Bill stood up and walked out of the room. Kristin shot me a look, stood up and followed him. I could hear words being exchanged, but I couldn't make out exactly what was said. I sat there, feeling like I was made of glass. Kate appeared in the corridor and stared at me with contempt. I knew then that this was no peace summit, even if Kristin had intended it to be so. Kate appeared drunk. She sat down next to me loudly, and drank a glass.

Kate looked me in the eye, then reached down and violently grabbed my dick, through my pants. I involuntarily went hard as a physical reaction, as I experienced a mix of pain and unwanted pleasure. I gasped. She twisted her hand and yanked at me through my pants. "What's so great about your fucking cock, huh, Michael?" she whispered rhetorically, with menace. "Couldn't keep your fucking dick away from my daughter, huh?" she went on. "This girl you've known since she was born, who you babysat. you fucking sick freak." she went on under her breath with rage. She squeezed my junk viciously and I moved away, stood up.

Her face was red, her eyes filled with tears, and all I could do was was cry "I'm sorry," and leave. This was worse than I ever could have imagined. I couldn't even say goodbye or apologize to my darling, or express all the things I wanted to express to her sweet, sweet parents who I loved so much. Despite everything, I bitterly regretted the path I had chosen, even though it had brought both Kristin and I such beautiful, unforgettable times and unfathomable bliss.

I drove home, cursing my own weakness, and spent a sleepless night in front of the television, letting my imagination run wild as to what Kristin's evening had been like. It was hours before I received a text from her. "I'm going to stay here tonight, Michael," it read. "I can't leave them now, I'm sorry."

I "liked" the messages but didn't reply.

After a few minutes, the messages continued. "It's going to be OK. We'll make it," she wrote, and that was it. I, however, realized that it was not going to be OK.

The following day, not having seen Kristin since the hideous events of the night before, I had lunch with Tom, a mutual friend of Bill's and mine, of many years. He was a great guy and didn't refrain from telling me exactly what he thought. "You're a complete asshole," was his opening gambit.

"Yup," I replied in complete agreement.

"You need to get out of this, dude." he said, and I knew he was right. "What are you gonna do, marry her, have her be estranged from her family, and have little babies at 50 years old?" he laughed with contempt. I just shook my head.

"Can I stay with you?" I asked. It was all I could think of.

He tapped my hand, and said, "of course you can, buddy, as long as you like," and that was it. I wasn't hungry and I felt like the world was coming to an end. Later that night, while trying to sleep after drowning my pathetic sorrows in a bottle, I received a message from Kristin, then noticed half a dozen missed calls. Fuck.

The message read: "I came home, you're not here," and all I could do was cry to myself.

Had all the heaven been worth this hell? The wise words of a great poet, or perhaps Frank Sinatra, rang in my ears, "'tis Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," and I pondered as to whether that was true.

I only saw Kristin one more time after that, as she was walking with her friends on campus. I could tell she was lost in her thoughts, and I noticed there was a moment when she was being comforted by one of her girlfriends. I had come to see her in desperation and weakness, to explain, to talk, but I couldn't face her and left. I wrote a letter instead, which I hoped would bring her solace and allow her to move on in peace.

I went by the apartment to grab a few of my things when I knew she wouldn't be in. I left all my possessions there, which she could ignore, or steal or destroy in anger, I didn't care. Seeing all her clothes and her toothbrush and her favorite foods on the counter, and all the photographs of us together, was beyond heartbreaking, so I left the letter, and got out of there in tears.

I imagine that when she returned and saw the letter sitting on the table, that she would have felt something similar to my hopeless despair. The apartment was still in my name, but I would continue to pay the mortgage, and suggested she stay for as long as she wanted. I told her I would always care about her, but knew that soon enough she would forget me and have a wonderful life with someone else. I sent my best wishes to her parents. It was probably harsh and cold, mostly complete lies, but I knew she'd be OK. Better than me. I received a few confused, questioning text messages over the next few weeks, a few calls, but I couldn't answer. I deleted Kristin and her parents from my contacts and started working 18 hour days at the office, drinking in my spare time.

It transpired that she didn't stay at our place anymore either. I asked Tom to pop round and see what the situation was, and he reported back that the place was like it was before she moved in and all her stuff was gone. So, after a reasonable amount of time, I moved back. It wasn't going to be easy. She had left her key on the table, and to my delight and dread, there was a note lying next to it. It read:

"Michael - I wanted to be understanding and mature about this, but fuck you. Fuck you for showing me what love can be, and leaving me knowing I will never feel anything like this again. Fuck you for destroying all love for me forever. Fuck you for being so fucking noble and doing the right fucking thing. Fuck you for being the love of my life. Your Kris."

"'Tis Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," I repeated to myself and sank down on the couch.

The End

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