(Because I tend to set my stories up rather thoroughly in the beginning, I definitely recommend reading Part One first for the back story)

Only a few short hours passed since 19 year-old Riley found herself caught in the midst of a fierce February blizzard, with little hope of help. Her car battery died in the most inconvenient of places; down a seldom-used road in a small northern Minnesota farming community, almost two hundred miles from her home in Chaska. She was woefully unprepared for such a situation; not only had she not dressed appropriately for freezing weather, but her cell phone’s battery was dead. If not for the kindness of a sweet, older couple down the road, she would likely have died trying to find help.

And, now, as she sat in the wood-paneled family room of the couple’s two story, white, ranch house, she watched--and allowed herself to be lulled by--the crackling of a tempered fire. She felt truly thankful. Sure, she was never going to really learn how to play chess (something the couple’s awkward 20-year-old grandson, Robert, was completely fixated on teaching her), but she was warm, fed and safe. Bob, (the man who found Riley out in the bitter cold, and brought her to safety) and his wife, Mitzi, had long gone off to bed, leaving the two to bond over cake, ice cream, and marble chess pieces. Oscar, the family’s huge brown mastiff, was dozing next to Robert’s knee, with his large paw partially resting on the man’s thigh, as the two new friends sat, Indian-style, in front of the tall, brick hearth with an old wooden chess board between them.

Riley tried her best to pay attention to his droll, overly-detailed explanations of each piece’s purpose and capabilities but, in truth, she could not care less. Instead, her mind began to drift into that semi-lucid place where intangible ideas seem to melt and blend with each other—where thought association is almost uncontrollable, and one may find him or herself suddenly blushing to be pondering lewd little fantasies at the most inopportune times. So it was, truly, of no use to try to tame such thoughts, something she discovered when Robert suddenly caught her fancifully daydreaming instead of listening to his chess lesson.

“I’m guessing you don’t really care about chess, huh?” Robert finally asked her. The question was direct enough--and his tone of voice intent enough--to pull her out of that enjoyable lazy haze of sensual imagery.

“Sorry?” she asked meekly, and at once felt guilty for not listening to him as he’d been making such a sincere effort to teach her the ins and outs of the game.

“Never mind.” he said as he began to pick up the chess pieces and put them, neatly, into the attached drawer underneath the vintage wooden chess board.

“I’m sorry, Robert, I just have a lot on my mind. I really didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Whatever you were thinking about, clearly you were enjoying yourself,” he said dryly as he stood up and walked over to a large built-in bookcase where he placed his chess board.

This seemingly innocent comment caught Riley off guard, “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well, you were smiling and even blushed a little, I think,” he said as he sat down in front of the sagging floral-print sofa directly across from the fire. He leaned back against it and reached out to pet Oscar, who opened one eye to ascertain which person was, in fact, touching him, before closing it again and returning quickly to live within whatever extravagant dreams may come to the canine mind.

Riley couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about Robert’s rather abrupt observation, and her face felt flush once again.

“I don’t think I was blushing,” she said matter-of-factly. But her face told a different story.

“Right. Just like you’re not blushing now,” he laughed.

It was loud enough to cause Oscar to raise his eyebrows, simultaneously cracking open each sleepy eye, only to realize there was no imminent threat and return to sleep yet again.

“So I blushed. Doesn’t mean anything. Change of subject,” she stated flatly, but she knew he couldn’t leave it alone. She turned herself to sit next to him and, in that momentary silence, they both stared into the fire as each debated what next to say.

“So are you going to tell me what you were thinking about?” he finally asked.

“No, why should I?” she asked defensively.

“Well, I mean, for a girl like you to blush, it must be pretty good!” he teased, as he put his hand atop Oscar’s head to reassure him.

“A girl like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she barked and, this time, Oscar’s head popped up into the air, and he looked at Riley suspiciously.

“Back down, Oscar.” he told the dog. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I was just saying that a girl like you, well, I figured you didn’t embarrass easily.”

Not wanting to aggravate Oscar any further, Riley decided to try lowering her voice. That old dog already didn’t like her much, anyhow, and the last thing she needed was for him to think she was a threat to anyone. “Explain what you mean by ‘a girl like me’.” she said in a terse whisper, which really didn’t hide her anger as much as she’d hoped it would.

“I just mean, you know, you’re a city girl. Not from a place like this. I figured you just must have a lot of experiences people like us don’t have. That’s all.”

“Like what?” she snapped.

“No, look, I wasn’t saying anything bad! Will you calm down?” Robert was becoming anxious, because he was astute enough to realize he’d angered Riley, and yet he wasn’t sure why, or how to fix it.

“Look,” he continued, “I hate this town. It’s small, and people here are small-minded. You get to live in a big town and I’m sure there’s a lot more to do where you’re from. Yeah, well, anyway, I’m just saying that I’ll bet you’ve had some cool experiences that people like me don’t get to have all the time.”

Riley suddenly realized that he was, in a strange and backwards way, actually trying to compliment her. Sure, she was more savvy and worldly, but the way he’d said it, it felt a bit like he was questioning her values.

“What kind of experiences do you think we have in Chaska that you don’t have here?”

Robert was quiet for a minute as he contemplated how to respond. In order to disguise his own discomfort, he got up, stoked the fire, and threw another small log onto it.

“Doesn’t red cedar smell great when you burn it?” he asked as he sat back down, and just a little bit closer to her this time. He could tell, by the look on her face, that she wasn’t having it, though. “I guess I just meant, like, I’m sure you’ve had lots of boyfriends and stuff, I mean, how could you not?” He looked at her, uncertain, and turned to stare at the fire—mostly out of embarrassment.

“So, what, because you live in a small town, you can’t have lots of girlfriends?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying—well, yeah, maybe it is. Girls here just don’t, um, well—they don’t get me, really. They don’t really see me as someone they want to date. I don’t have a cool car and I read a lot and, I guess, I’m just not really into what they’re into. So, well, I just kind of get forgotten, I guess.”

Hearing this caused a restless ache within Riley’ chest. She understood. She understood more than Robert could ever know. She’d been awkward in school, herself. A bit on the plump side, she felt anxious and insecure around the “cool” kids and, as the stress mounted, she turned to food. She was never the athletic type, so she spent a lot of time on her computer or watching television instead of with friends. In fact, friends were few, and they were often just as awkward as she. In fact, it wasn’t until Riley graduated and moved out on her own that she really entered into a noticeable transformation.

She would work out at the local rec center three times a week and, since she was now paying for her own groceries, began to eat better (though mostly out of frugality). The Riley that sat before Robert was a vastly different one than the Riley that had been ignored in school.

“Look, believe it or not, I get that,” she assured him. “I was the weird kid, myself. I spent a lot of time alone, and I always felt unwanted and not as good as the other kids.”

“You think I’m weird?” he asked sincerely.

“No! I’m just saying I can understand how you feel.” she tried to back-pedal but he looked away, disappointed.

“You obviously think I’m weird,” he sighed.

Riley was lost for a way out of this stupid little faux pas. She had a feeling that, no matter what she said now, there was no way he’d actually hear or believe her. She imagined how he must be feeling, and it made her feel even worse. Way to go, dipshit. How are you going to fix this one? 

Suddenly, it was clear. Without thinking twice, she quickly scooted over in front of him, grabbed the back of his head, and pulled his face to hers. As she placed a tender kiss upon his quivering lips, she moaned ever-so-slightly. It was just enough to let him know she was enjoying his lips on hers. He was an awkward kisser, sure, but as she tried to find his rhythm and match it, she realized she really ought to expect this. He deserved reprieve; he was, after all, from a small town, and she suspected his last girlfriend might also be his first. This was going to take time and patience.

“Here. Put your hand here,” she whispered and took his hand in hers, then brought it to the side of her waist. “Good,” she encouraged him, and began to lightly kiss his cheek, then pushed his long hair back and delicately moved her lips closer to his ear.

As she did, she tickled his earlobe with her tongue, and this caused him to squirm a bit and pull back. She wasn’t willing to relent, though. She followed his body and continued to tease his lobes and neck with her tongue. But, to her dismay, he didn’t react the way she expected. Instead of enjoying it, he pulled away, pushed himself to his feet, and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I’ve got to get up early tomorrow. I’m really tired. I’m going to bed,” he lied, and almost tripped over the navy blue shaker rug under the sofa as he shuffled away, then climbed the stairs.

Riley was confused, to say the least. Is he gay? Did I read him wrong? Does he not like me? Did I ruin it by making the first move?  There were so many questions and so few answers.

As he disappeared up the staircase, she realized it was just her and Oscar downstairs with a fire burning and she had no idea how to put it out. Not wanting to make things even more uncomfortable between her and Robert, she decided to sit a while to see if the fire would go out on its own. Oscar wasn’t interested in her company, apparently, because once Robert ran upstairs, he slowly pulled himself up, stretched, took a moment to stare at Riley with a furrow of dissatisfaction, then trotted out of the room. No one wanted her right now. Even the dog would rather be alone.

After cleaning up the few dishes they’d used, Riley returned to see the fire still burning bright. She realized she was going to have to ask Robert to take care of it. She shut off the lights and tip-toed up the stairs, so as not to disturb his grandparents. When she got to Robert’s door, she lightly tapped a gentle knuckle on it and waited for him to say something. There was only silence. She slowly turned the doorknob and began to, as gingerly as she could, push open the door. The upstairs hall was dark, with only a small angel nightlight burning on the far end, so her eyes needed little coaxing to adjust to the black of Robert’s room. Once in, she realized that he was moving in his bed.

Is he still awake?

She moved closer, and it instantly registered what the movement was: he was jacking off under his covers.

Should I leave? Should I let him know I’m here?

Riley was completely unprepared for this situation, so for a minute she just froze. But then her inner id kicked in, and she decided she wanted to go with it. With all the stealth of a cougar tracking its prey, she tiptoed over to the edge of Robert’s bed and kneeled down next to where she assumed his head was under the covers.

“Robert,” she whispered, and soon realized that with his own soft moaning and gasping, he must not have heard her.

“Roooooooobeeeeeeert,” she softly sang and this time he quickly shot up, pulled the covers from his face, and in the darkness of that deep night, Riley could see across his chiseled face a look of total shock and humiliation as he realized she knew exactly what he was doing under those covers.

“Oh my GOD! What the hell are you doing in here?” he barked in a whispered tone. He tried to sit up, but Riley put her hand to his chest and pushed him back down.

“I, well—never mind why I came in here. What’re you doing, Robert?” she said slyly.

“What do you want?” he snapped as he pulled his sheets up to hide his erection. But it was of no use.

Riley, never one to shy away from a golden opportunity, licked her ruddy lips and cooed, “You.”

She yanked at the covers with a force Robert did not expect, and they came flying back freely to reveal his almost-naked body, covered only by a pair of red, plaid, woven cotton boxers around his knees. His body: a formidable sight with long, shapely arms and legs wrapped in the sinew of a man who works hard and often. His stomach rippled above his shy--yet manly--erection, and Riley realized that although he had the nerves of a boy, the rest was, clearly, fully developed and ready to play.

His mind, however, was having trouble keeping up. “What are you doing?” he gasped as she bent down toward him.

“Finishing what I started.” she coyly stated as she hovered over his naked torso and began to kiss and lick his tender, tanned skin, starting at his navel.

“No! No, not like this,” he pleaded, and tried to grab hold of her shoulders to push her away, but she grabbed his hands and intertwined his fingers with her own, then continued to venture further down toward his inexorable erection.

“Please, Riley, don’t!” he pleaded, but as soon as her lips made contact with his most sensitive parts, he pulled his long, slender hand from hers and laid it tenderly on the back of her head.

“Oh, fuck!” he cried out in a ghostly whisper, and his body began to shake so furiously that it reminded her of someone pretending to have a seizure in a movie. She pushed her lips all the way down, and in the blink of an eye, Robert was squeezing her hair and trying to pull her off as he began to let loose a torrent of salty warmth into her impetuous mouth.

Once he stopped shaking, she pulled herself up onto her feet, and pushed his hair away from his face.

“Was that your first blow job?” she asked coquettishly, as she ran her finger tenderly across her lips and sat next to him. He was silent, though, and in short order, Riley began to wonder if she hadn’t made a mistake.

“Robert,” she inquired reluctantly. Still nothing, other than the sound of his short, quick breaths as he tried to calm down. “Robert!” she again beckoned. Finally, he looked up at her, and through the darkness, they made eye contact.

“That was, well, shit! I don’t have words for it!” he whispered excitedly. Thank God.

“I’ve, you know, seen it in porn and stuff, and I always tried to get Jenny to do it, but I just... wow.” he sighed, and sat up in his bed. “May I kiss you?”

Without a word, their lips connected and, with heavy breathing from eager, clumsy noses, they began to discover each other in the most simple of intimate ways. Robert wrapped his arms around Riley and pulled her into his bed. As they lay there, kissing each other softly and slowly, they stayed in each other’s arms until each drifted off into a lull of joyous sleep…hoping to meet, once again, in each other’s dreams.

(to be continued)