One Thousand Apologies - Part 2 (censored) - Sex Stories

One Thousand Apologies - Part 2 (censored)

... something to be excited about again, even if it was for other people’s successes. Emerging from my room an hour later, I let everyone know “Hey! the Pirates won, we’re tied for 1st!” Mom was a fan and shared a high-five with Hannah, but dad could care less. He was in his chair, reading a magazine while sometimes glancing at the TV. Mom then got up and said “here, let me make some room for you”, leaving a place for me with Hannah on the love seat as she excused herself and went downstairs. Instead of pajamas, Hannah had once more changed into a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt. It had been over 85 again that day, and with no air conditioning the upstairs of the house was still hot into the evening. Lou Grant was on, and I asked Hannah to catch me up on the story line so far, as the intrepid investigative reporters righted the wrong of the week in LA. I had missed all of One Day At a Time , so Hannah filled me in on that episode as well. They were summer reruns that I had already seen, but one could never get enough Valerie Bertinelli, and tonight I had missed out. Everyone headed to bed during the 11 o’clock news, but as I really had nothing to do without access to my bedroom, I stayed behind to watch Johnny Carson. About a half hour later Hannah went to use the bathroom, and seeing me still in front of the TV she came and plopped down next to me, sitting sideways to face me as she crossed those beautiful legs. “Out here all by yourself?” “I’m an only child – I’m used ...

... to it.” Like most people did, she wondered, “Doesn’t that get lonely?” I recited back my standard response, “Not really. There are so many kids my age in the neighborhood, I can walk 5 minutes and hang out with anyone I want. When I want privacy I just come back inside.” Leaning towards me, she put her hand on my arm and said, “I have to tell you I really was impressed by how you played tonight. I didn’t know you were that good.” I just loved whenever she touched me. I smiled, but got pensive again, “Thanks, but - you know - I think it’s having listened my whole life to my dad telling me how I could always have done better - that then I do it to myself, being some kind of perfectionist, always being bugged by what I did wrong. It can make it really hard to just sit back and enjoy life.” She was just staring up at me with those eyes. “Listen, I think you’re a really great guy. Don’t get down on yourself, just be confident enough to let go and live a little.” She was trying to build me up while on the inside I was recalling how less than 24 hours before I was on the verge of raping her, not three feet from where we were sitting. She reached out to wipe a tear from the corner of my eye, kissed me on the cheek, and said “Goodnight” as she went back to my room. It must have been ten minutes that I sat there staring at the wall, shedding a few more tears, before I turned off Johnny Carson and headed for the couch downstairs, where the air was considerably cooler for sleeping. ...