The Trophy Case

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Chapter Two

Chloe got up early. She was looking forward to visiting the bookstore, though she couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was the way she met him. It was easy, natural, nothing contrived. They just plain hit it off. And God did he look good in swimming trunks.

She wore bike shorts, a sports bra, knee socks and a pair of bright red fifties style Keds she bought in a second-hand store. Michel and George were just bringing out the cribbage board when Eric knocked. The rest of the house seemed to validate Eric’s Saturday is a dead day theory.

Michel brought him in. “George,” he said, “This is Eric, Hector’s son. Eric this is George Fredrickson.”

They shook hands. “I assume you’re here for my daughter.” Said George.

“That he is,” said Chloe from the stairs.

“They said the surf won’t be up until at least noon,” said Michel, “with any luck she who must be obeyed will let me indulge in a set.”

Chloe came down the stairs and hooked Eric’s arm. “He’s showing me his store.”

“Isn’t that a little forward?” said Michel, half seriously, knowing Eric lived over the store.

“Not after I’ve held her in my arms just yesterday,” said Eric, noting the surprise on her father’s and his uncle’s faces.

“We wiped out next to each other, he grabbed me to pull me away from the boards,” chuckled Chloe. “I am actually trying to figure out what he’s going to save me from in a bookstore.”

“Bookworms?” suggested Michel.

He drove to San Luis taking the cutoff through Atascadero and the avocado orchards.

“It’s pretty,” she said.

“Well, it’s pretty agrarian around here. The Rosselli’s are about half the viniculture in the county, a lot of avocadoes, and floriculture. Not as frenetic as north or south, about as laid back as the California coast gets.”

“Eric’s a good kid,” said Michel as he pegged out his hand. “Rebelled against Hector first, then Connie and me. Said he wanted to do his thing. Two years ago, we gave him a building in downtown San Luis, a store and three apartments. The top floor apartment was vacant, so he took it, traded his Mustang for a van and a few bucks, and while the sewing store played out the seven months left on its lease, he traveled the West buying books. I doubt he does well but the building, even with the mortgage, breaks even with both apartments rented and he feeds himself.”

“Chloe’s always been overshadowed by her sister, and she took Adele’s death pretty hard. Seeing her with a boy is a bit of a shock, she’s not very social. Maybe getting Alana as a stepmother will help.”

Chloe was a bookworm herself so the store was pretty special. She ran around for almost an hour and piled up a dozen books on the counter.

A few customers came and went, Eric let his clerk off until one.

“This is wonderful,” said Chloe. “I’ve been searching all over for those. In the valley and up to Frisco the real estate market sort priced out the used bookstores and second-hand shops. And as you see,” she said flashing her half century old Keds, “I’m a fan of both.

“So where do you live?”

“Top floor.”

“Here? Wow I didn’t think shopkeepers lived over their shops anymore.”

“I do. I’ll show when Jim gets back.”

Eric’s apartment was decorated in second hand everything and it was wowing one of the few people in California who were enamored of second hand everything.

“You just get better and better. I really envy you. Living in vintage and antique with a store full of books, are you a God? Need a prophet?”

“I don’t do all that well.”

“Bills paid? Eat occasionally? All you need money for is more books and old stuff. Does that old overstuffed couch feel as good as it looks.”

“See for yourself.”

She sat down, bounced a couple of times.

“You could seduce half the girls on the coast with that,” she said.

“Never tried.”

“That won’t do at all,” and she walked up grabbed him and kissed him.

“Couch?”

What exactly about Eric made Chloe forward she never figured out. She was about as shy as a person could be without backup. Not to mention insecure. But for some reason Eric was special. She knew it when he grabbed her.

She kissed him, put her leg behind him and tripped him onto the couch, getting his thigh between her legs.

Eric was overwhelmed. Oh, he wanted to kiss her, a whole lot more than that if truth be told, but being tripped on his own couch and devoured was a bit more than he expected. He wondered what to touch, if anything. He brushed her tit with his arm and then decided to ask.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty, and you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“So, it is perfectly legal for us to make out on an old sofa in the State of California?”

“I suppose so. But we’re also adults and we’re not doing it in our parent’s house after a dance in the gym.”

“You mean we can escalate, without fear of getting caught?”

“I mean we will escalate.”

“Well, I am a virgin. And this is about all the escalation I’ve ever experienced, but I’m willing to try a couple steps forward if you are.”

“You’re a virgin?”

“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“Just hard to believe. You’re pretty and really sexy. Some boys had to try or you went to an all-girls academy.”

“I always stopped them before they got here,” she said and took off her sports bra. “Isn’t this referred to as second base?”

She found that having her tits massaged greatly enhanced the kissing experience. It’s just that he brushed her nipples and aureoles and she could feel it between her legs. She got hotter and wetter and she dug her crotch deeper into his leg, moving it and multiplying the thrills. Then all of a sudden, she felt like she had to pee, and then it just burst throughout her whole body.

“Oh Jesus.” she said.

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