The sound terrified her, and she pulled both her hands away from her, though it was absolute torture to do so when she was so close. “Turac?” she called. she knew it wasn’t the cat. The floor only creaked when something about as heavy as a person stood on it — it was how she knew when her dad was trying to listen in on her phone conversations. She rolled off her bed quickly and grabbed a pair of scissors off her desk, holding them out in front of her as she walked to her bedroom door. She flicked on the light as she stepped out.
“Mr. Orton!” she shrieked. He was standing right beside her door, a shocked expression on his face, a white envelope in his hand. “Jesus, what are you doing here?!”
She felt her face flush, and she was pretty sure the rest of her body did, too. That was when she remembered the rest of her body was naked, and she shrieked again, using her hands in a lame attempt to cover herself. she was still holding the scissors, and she dropped them onto the floor.
“I forgot to give you one of the letters,” he said, looking away from her. “I was just going to leave it on the counter but I heard you… umm… well, groan, and I thought you were hurt or sick, so I came down to…”
She took a few steps back towards her room, trying to find a shirt, a skirt, anything to cover herself. she could see herself in the mirror, her face beet-red, and the colour trailing down her neck. Her clothes were on the other side of her room, so she grabbed the blanket off her bed and covered herself with it.
“I… I was just… I didn’t…” she stuttered as she walked back into the family room. Mr. Orton was still staring at the floor, and holding the envelope. she reached out and took the envelope from him, but when she did, something fell out of his hand and to the floor. She looked down to see her panties on the ground in front of her. “Why did you…”
“They were on the floor, I thought… it was kind of dark, I didn’t know they were your… uh… panties…” he said.
she buried her head in her hands, humiliated. “Look, Stacey, it’s okay,” he said. “Everyone does… that… and you know, it’s just…”
“I’m so embarrassed,” she said. Holding up the blanket, she tried to walk past Mr. Orton so she could run into the bathroom and just hide there until he left. However, the blanket was dragging on the floor, and she had only taken a couple of steps before she tripped.
Mr. Orton instinctively reached out, catching her before she fell on her face. The angle he caught her at, however, he had to move his foot to balance himself, and it got caught on her blanket. They both fell to the ground, Mr. Orton’s arm around her blanket-covered waist to keep her from falling. she ended up squished between him and the wall, his arm pinned beneath her.
she looked at him for a mohernt after they fell, trying to figure out why, in God’s name this was happening to her. Mr. Orton tried to smile, though he was looking at her with a large amount of pity. He couldn’t move with his arm pinned under her, and she couldn’t get up without her blanket falling down. she was so upset that she just burst into tears.
“Hey, don’t cry, honey,” He said, his expression changing a bit.
“You must think I’m pathetic,” She sobbed, turning her head away from him. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Orton.”
“What happened to Mr. Orton?” he teased. “And what are you apologizing for? I’m incredibly flattered, Stacey.”
She sniffled and shook her head. Her stomach hurt, she was so embarrassed, and she turned her head away from him. “You think I’m just a stupid little kid, and I should be trying to prove to you that I’m not instead of just crying like a baby.” she didn’t want him to think of her as a stupid kid — her fantasy had definitely been a lot sexier than that. she flushed horribly.
He adjusted the blanket around her slightly. “I don’t think you’re a stupid little kid,” he said. “I’ve never thought that. I think you’re a beautiful girl, Stacey.”
she sniffled, looking at him. “You think I’m pretty?” she whispered.
He laughed, hugging her slightly. “Of course I do. I think you’re adorable. And you shouldn’t be embarrassed about this stuff, okay? I promise won’t tell anyone.”
she sighed, almost forgetting she was naked as she rested her head against his shoulder. “Adorable,” she said sadly.
“What’s wrong with that?”
she shrugged. “People don’t think of ‘adorable’ people in the way I was just thinking about you, Mr. Orton”
He was quiet for a mohernt. “Stacey,” he said, his voice very soft. “I can’t tell you the things I think about you. I’m far older than you. I’m a father of kids. You are like my daughter. I don’t want to be a dirty old man.”
she turned her head a bit. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head. “We shouldn’t talk about this.” He struggled a bit, trying to get up. “Look, I promise I won’t say anything to anyone, and we won’t talk about this again, okay?”
“Mr. Orton, what do you mean?” she asked, standing up as he did. He started to walk to the stairs, and she hoisted the bottom of the blanket up as high as she could so she could hurry towards him. “Tell me!” she ordered, as she slipped between him and the stairs.
“Christ, Stacey. You’re… you…” He stuttered for a mohernt before he shook his head again. “This isn’t right.”
“You think about me like that?” she asked, though she already knew the answer — he was a terrible liar. “Do you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he replied, flushing a bit. “What difference does it make?” He tried to move past her, but she climbed a couple of stairs backwards and dropped the blanket.
“It makes a difference,” she said, standing naked in front of him.
Mr. Orton stumbled backwards, almost falling, “Fuck!” He whispered.
She walked down the stairs, closer to him. “Mr. Orton, tell me. if you say that you don’t, I will put the blanket back on.”
“I… I…” he stuttered. She bit her lip, realising that their exchange was exciting her, and seeing as she hadn’t actually finished her session earlier, she was still incredibly wet. she knew that Mr. Orton had thought of her like this before — he wouldn’t be so ambiguous if he hadn’t. Now all she could think about was having him touch her. Mr. Orton cleared his throat as he looked away from her. “Stacey, you’re a great kid. A young, pretty girl like you… if anyone found out that… if I even thought…”
“Have you ever thought about me while you touched yourself, Mr. Orton?” she interrupted, her voice breathy.
“I can’t tell you that,” he answered, sounding slightly shocked.
“If you tell me, I will touch myself for you,” she told him, giggling a bit. “Were you watching me earlier? Did you like it? Were you thinking that I was too young for that sort of thing? I bet you were, and I bet you liked that.”
“Stacey…” he said.
She giggled again, grinning. “You just have to say it, Mr. Orton, then I will let you watch me all you want. Come on, I know you want to.”
“I…” His jaw twitched a bit as he looked at her.
“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?” she asked again.
He paused for a moment, and she could see him swallow. “Yes,” he finally said.
She flushed a bit, though not from embarrassment. “What do you think about?” she asked softly, just the thought of him stroking himself while he thought of her was sending little electricity shocks through her body.
He looked away from her. “I think about you in those little blue shorts you wear when you’re cutting the flowers. I think about how young and beautiful you are and I hated myself for thinking that. I think about how pretty you are, and how I just want to…. take good care of you and always make you happy..” He stopped talking, and shook his head again. “Don’t do this to me, Stacey. I… we… can’t.”
“What else?” she asked, feeling a tingle run though her stomach. He sounded protective, caring, like he could care for her so much. There were so many things he could take care of for her. She stepped towards him again. Mr. Orton took another step back not knowing that the couch was now behind him.