For the Love of Holly: Part 2

Holidays at the Free Diner.

 Based on a post  by want some fun . Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Throughout the week, the entire class was buzzing about this new project. Some of us just thought it would be a cool way to get our names and resumes out there, which was true. We all got caught up in the enthusiasm. I couldn't stop thinking about what Holly would say if we pulled this off.

By Friday when I left school, we had something of a plan in place. Mr. Fredricks had called in a few favors from the school administration, and he and I were planning to meet Sunday at his house with a few other kids to work on publicity. That gave me time to go over the idea on Saturday with Ma, to make sure that we weren't planning anything that would be a problem for the foundation that runs the kitchen.

By this time, I was so excited about the idea that I got to the kitchen around 8:30 Saturday morning. The first person I saw was Ma. I gave her a quick overview of our plan, and she was thrilled. She invited herself to the meeting Sunday afternoon so she could learn directly from the source what was being planned, and so she could give her input.

"Give me your address, Ma," I said. "The meeting starts at 1:30. I'll pick you up."

Ma laughed. "Give me your address, Jimmy-boy. I'll come and get you. I've seen that piece of junk you drive. I don't know if it would survive my weight!"

The next person I saw was Holly. I couldn't contain myself. "Holly, have I got some news for you!"

"What is it James?"

I told her about our plan. The more I said, the more she smiled, and the deeper those awesome dimples got. "Oh James, that's wonderful!" she cried. "I can't believe you're doing this for us!"

Suddenly, I saw that her eyes were welling up with tears.

"What is it, Holly? Why are you crying?"

She threw herself at me and hugged me tight. "I'm so happy right now. I knew you were special the moment I met you. This is going to be the best Christmas this place has ever had!"

As nice as it felt to hold Holly, it got a little awkward when I realized Yolanda was standing in the doorway, watching us. Reluctantly, I peeled Holly off of me. I hoped the reaction my body was having to hers wasn't visible.

Holly saw Yolanda standing there. "Yolanda, guess what? James's culinary school is putting together a benefit for our kitchen. And they're trying to find new corporate donors. They're going to help us give our people a real Christmas dinner!"

"For real?" Yolanda asked. "You think you can pull it off?"

"We're sure as hell going to try," I said.

"James, if you do that, you gonna be the new saint of South Street!"

I said, "Ma's coming with me to a planning meeting tomorrow at my instructor's house. We'll see what we can do. Don't go congratulating me or my school yet. There's an awful lot of work to do, and we're going to need a fair amount of luck to make a difference."

"You can do it, James," Yolanda said. "You sure as hell know how to work. And luck? You make your own luck. Don't ever forget that. You make your own luck, good or bad. I want to hear more about this. But we better work while we talk."

Holly, Yolanda, and I all put on our aprons and hairnets and set to our tasks. When we got the first three kettles of soup simmering, Yolanda said, "Time for a break, James. Holly, you ready to take a break?"

"You two go ahead. I have a little more to do before I can go on break."

"Okay," Yolanda called back to her. To me she muttered, "Outside. Now."

When we got outside, Yolanda didn't say anything. She lit a cigarette and took a few drags in silence. Finally, she said, "You remember when I asked you if you was dense?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You remember when we was talking about Holly a few weeks ago and I asked you why you didn't ask her out? I asked you if you was dense, that you couldn't see she was crazy for you. I'm gonna ask you again. Are you dense, or what?"

"You mean that hug? She's happy about the kitchen."

"Of course she is. I'm happy, too. But you didn't see me throwing myself at you and holding you tight like you was a life preserver and I was drowning, did you? I don't think so. That girl is doing everything she can think of to get you to notice her. And don't you dare deny it. I sneaked a look at the front of your blue jeans, boy. You noticed her. Now, when you gonna do something about it?"

"Yolanda, I don't know what to say to you. I told you why I don't want to date anyone right now. And besides, Holly seems like a good girl."

"Of course she's a good girl, dummy! That's why she hugged you the way she did. If she was a bad girl, she would a stuck her tongue in your mouth and her hand down your pants. Boy, this place means a lot to her. And now you're showing us it means a lot to you. You just opened the door to her for yourself, and you're a damn fool if you don't walk your skinny ass on through!"

"I don't know, Yolanda. I just don't want to get hurt."

"The only one's gonna get hurt around here is her if you keep on ignoring her. I ain't saying you have to fuck her. She may not even want that, at least not right away. But you gotta be both dense and blind if you don't see the way she acts around you. Hell, it getting' on toward Christmas. That's the most romantic time of year. If you don't ask her out, and soon, I'm gonna just set you two up together. And you know me well enough by now to know that I'll do it. I don't know how, yet, but I'll fix you two up. Now, if you don't wanna be embarrassed, I suggest you go ahead and do it yourself."

"Let me think about it, Yolanda," I said.

"Yeah, well don't think too long. Come on, we gotta get ready to make more soup."

Ma came to my apartment to pick me up on Sunday. As we walked out to her car, she said, "The front seat's full of books and papers about the kitchen. I figured I'd bring our financial records along to share with your group. I want them to see how badly we need new donations. You're going to have to sit in the back with Holly."

"Why's Holly with you?" I asked.

"Holly helps me with the books and does a lot with inventory and supplies. It's important for her to get exposure to fund-raising too, and this seemed like a good opportunity," Ma said.

When I got in the back seat, I was stunned. Holly was wearing a casual blouse and skirt and low heels. Every time I had seen her at the kitchen, her blond hair had been pulled back in a ponytail which she then pinned up so it would fit under her hairnet. Now it was loose, flowing, shiny, and framing her face perfectly. She had on some subtle make-up. And her dimples appeared when she smiled at me. She was beautiful. I was in deep trouble.

"Hi, James. I hope you don't mind me tagging along. Ma thought it would be good for me."

"I'm glad you're here," I said honestly. "Wow, you look great! I mean, you always look great, but I've never seen you like this."

Ma laughed from the front seat. "Yeah, Jimmy-boy, she cleans up nice, doesn't she?"

We drove the few miles to Mr. Fredricks' house engaged in an animated three-way conversation. We were all excited about the meeting this afternoon, and full of hope for the progress we could make. At times, I was having difficulty concentrating on what Ma was saying, though. I had trouble taking my eyes off Holly.

The meeting went well. Ma had come fully prepared with copies of the kitchen's annual reports from the last five years, showing a steady increase in the number of meals required each week, and a recent sharp decline in the donations the kitchen was receiving. She made quite an impact on everyone there about the desperate need the center had for additional funding. From the way some of the guys at the meeting were looking at her, I could see that Holly made quite an impact, too.

With Ma's help, we hammered out the language of our publicity campaign. The students had organized themselves into committees, and the heads of those committees presented the recipes we were going to use, along with the way in which we were going to go about getting donations, making sales and collecting money. Mr. Fredricks had already gotten some written promises of donations of food and money, and he presented those, along with the list of restaurant owners who were going to be invited. We made a rough estimate of the proceeds we hoped to be able to donate to the kitchen.

Then Mr. Fredricks floored us. "I've had a stroke of good luck, people," he said. "Our school's head of Public Relations is a good friend of the CEO of the company that owns one of the local TV stations, two FM radio stations, the highest rated AM station in the area, and one of the newspapers. He's assigned a camera crew to be at the kitchen on Thanksgiving to drum up public interest about the work you people are doing. They're also going to do a spot on the evening news at our so-called 'bake sale,' to publicize what we're trying to do for the kitchen. This could be huge, people!"

The meeting broke up shortly after that. We all had our assignments, and we agreed to meet again the following Sunday to discuss our progress.

When we got out to the car, Ma, Holly, and I were all floating on the clouds. "I'd offer to take you kids out to dinner to celebrate," Ma said, "but I have to go back to the kitchen. I have to get the orders for next week finished, so I can get them to our suppliers first thing in the morning."

I knew what I wanted to do, but I was nervous. When we got to my building, I finally blurted it out. "Holly, would you like to get some dinner? There's a great Thai restaurant two blocks from here. I can run you home after that."

"I think that would be very nice, James. I love Thai food, but I haven't had any in years."

"Okay with you Ma?" I asked.

"Sure, if Holly trusts riding in that rust-bucket of yours."

"I'll be fine, Ma," Holly said.

Ma dropped us at the curb.

"I want to change clothes. You're dressed too nicely to be seen with a guy in a t-shirt and jeans. Will you come in? It will only take me a minute."

"Sure, James, but you look fine the way you are."

"Not if I'm going out with you," I said.

Holly and I went up to my tiny apartment, and she entertained herself by looking through my cookbook collection while I went to change clothes. I quickly chose a nice shirt and slacks and dressy casual shoes. As I dressed, I thought to myself, "Well, James, this is it. You're going out on a date. What the hell are you thinking?" I pondered that as I was brushing my hair, and realized that I was thinking how excited I was to spend time with Holly away from the kitchen.

We walked to the restaurant. As soon as we got inside, Holly said, "Oh James, this is nice."

"I like it. I used to come here every Saturday night before I started working at the kitchen. Now, I'm too tired after my shift to do much more than go home and fix something to eat, and then fall into bed," I said.

"But it's a good kind of tired, isn't it?" Holly asked.

"The first night, when I got home, I decided I was going to take a shower and then make dinner. I thought I would lie down for a minute to get the kinks out of my back from slaving away all day, but the next thing I knew, it was morning and I was still in my smelly clothes from the kitchen. I've gotten more used to it since then, but it still tires me out. But yes, it's starting to become a good kind of tired," I said.

"I love it there," Holly said. "Some of my friends think I'm nuts, but I just can't imagine going through life not spending some time there every week. I just like to feel that, in some way, I'm helping to make a difference."

"What about after you get out of school?" I asked. "Even if you do wind up going for your degree, after that you're going to want a full-time job. You might not be anywhere around here."

Holly thought for a moment. "My roots are in this city. This is the only place I've ever lived. I'd like to stay around here. If I can get a job in a good restaurant here, I'll still work at the kitchen whenever I can. If I have to leave town to get a job, I'm sure I'll find another kitchen in another city so that I can keep doing this kind of work."

We ate in silence for a few minutes.

"You know," I said, "when the judge first sentenced me to working at the kitchen, I was really upset. I thought the work was beneath me, and I came in there the first day prepared to hate every second of my three hundred hours. Now, I find that I can hardly wait to get there on Saturday mornings. I guess it gets in your blood."

"It does, James. I know it did for me. And look at some of the others. Yolanda has been there for years. She can't leave. Ma's been doing this for longer than anyone can remember. It's her life. I heard JZ say the other day that he's going to keep coming in when he's done at the half-way house, because our patrons remind him of what he was going to become. He also says he likes the people he works with."

"Yeah, that's the thing with me too," I said. "Ma's getting to be more like a mother to me than my own Mom. I don't know what I'd do without Yolanda's teasing and smart-ass humor. That woman really can make me laugh. And, if I stopped working at the kitchen, I wouldn't get to see you." It was out before I realized what I was saying.

Holly looked at me. Her dimples grew very deep as she smiled. "Even if you left," she said shyly, "we could still be friends."

"I can't see myself leaving," I said. "But you're right, I would still want us to be friends."

I paid our bill and helped Holly with her jacket. I could smell that cologne again.

"Do you have to go straight home?" I asked.

"I do have class in the morning, but it's not that late. What do you want to do?" Holly asked.

"Walk with you. And talk."

"I'd like that," Holly said softly.

We walked aimlessly for a while, talking about the kitchen and the people there. Finally, Holly stopped and turned me to look at her.

"I've always been a little shy, and I guess I'm a pretty traditional type of girl, so I'm not good at this," Holly began, "but I have to know something. Why do you seem to avoid me, James?"

We had found ourselves at the entrance to a small park. I guided Holly over to a bench, and we sat down. "I don't know how much Yolanda has told you about how I wound up getting sentenced to work at the kitchen. It was because of a girl," I said. I then told Holly the whole story about Marcy, starting with how I met her, detailing the growth of my love for her, and finishing with her betrayal of me. "I thought I was in love with her, Holly. I thought she was the one for me, forever. Now, of course, I know how foolish I was. But it's made me very afraid of getting hurt again. I'm afraid to let myself feel attracted to another woman."

"I'm not Marcy," Holly said quietly.

"No, you're not. I see that much clearly. But it's me. I'm just not sure I can afford to act on my attraction to another girl," I said.

"Are you attracted to me, James?"

"Very much. You're beautiful, smart, a hard worker, a woman with goals, and you're a lot of fun to be with."

"Well, since it's honesty time, I'll tell you. I'm attracted to you too, James."

"I like hearing you say, that. I'm just not sure I'm ready for more than a friendship. I think I want more, but I'm just not ready."

"That's Okay, James. I can wait."

I put my arm around her, and she laid her head on my shoulder. Feeling Holly against my side had my mind working very hard. I knew I liked this girl. I knew I wanted her. But I didn't know what to do about it.

There was a church next to the park. The bell in its tower struck 9 o'clock.

"Holly, I have an 8am class tomorrow. I guess I should get you home."

"I have early classes too," she said.

I stood, and extended my hand to help her up. We walked, holding hands, not speaking, back to the parking lot at my apartment. I held her door for her as she got in my car. Other than giving me directions to her apartment, Holly said nothing as we drove, and neither did I.

When we got to her place, I walked her to her door. "Thank you for going to dinner with me, Holly," I said.

"I had a great time with you, James, both at dinner and afterward."

A part of me wanted to flee, but a much bigger part of me hoped she would invite me in to stay the night. Holly was just standing there, staring into my eyes, as though she was trying to read my thoughts. Finally, I broke the silence.

"Will you come to next Sunday's meeting with me? Now that I know where you live, I could pick you up."

"Come here at noon. I'll have lunch ready. Then we can go to the meeting together," she said. "And maybe we can hang out a little after the meeting, too."

"That would be nice. Well, I guess I'll see you at the kitchen Saturday."

"Okay," she said. She turned away from me, got her key out of her purse and opened the door.

"Holly?" I said.

She turned to face me again. "Yes, James?"

I pulled her to me and kissed her. I had intended it to be a light friendly kiss, and that is how it started. But it lingered. And grew. Her hands went to my neck and my arms pulled her against me. The kiss changed from one of friendship to one that promised much more. She felt good in my arms, her slender form pressed against me, her tits against my chest, her hips against mine, my growing erection pushing against her belly, her lips parting against my mouth. Before I knew it was happening, my tongue had touched hers, and I could tell we both liked it.

When we finally parted, I could see her nipples straining against her shirt. "I'm looking forward to next weekend," I said.

"So am I," Holly said, her dimpled cheeks glowing. "Good night, James."

It took me a long time to get to sleep that night. My thoughts were a jumble of nervousness and desire. I had never known a girl quite like Holly, and I had never been attracted to a girl this way before. Not even Marcy. I thought about my relationship with Marcy for a while, and realized that, as much as I had thought I loved her, she had never inspired the emotions in me that my one kiss with Holly had.

When I finally fell asleep, I had some very entertaining dreams.

The next week flew by. At school, we were spending more time on plans for our fund-raiser than we were on actual cooking lessons, but Mr. Fredricks thought the organizational work we were doing was valuable, so he encouraged us. By Wednesday, things were coming together nicely. I had to tell Holly, so I called her on my lunch break at work. I think she was a little surprised that I called, but we had a nice talk.

Saturday morning, I sought out Ma as soon as I got to the kitchen. "Ma, I have Wednesday night off from work, so I'm going to be here Wednesday afternoon this week to work the dinner shift, and I can be here all day Friday and Saturday."

"Well, Jimmy-boy, that would be nice, but I don't know if we really need the help on Wednesday."

"Tell someone else to take off, or put me to work cleaning the place up to get ready for the TV crew on Thanksgiving day," I said.

"Oh lord, Jimmy-boy, the whole place needs a coat of paint, but there's no way we can do that while people are here. But if you're serious about working Wednesday, I bet I can find someone who would be willing to stay home to start working on Thanksgiving dinner for their own family. I'll let you know. Say, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"Working here," I said.

"Yes, but after we close. Are you going to your Mom's place for a late Thanksgiving dinner?"

"No, Ma, the only thing she'll want to do for Thanksgiving is snuggle up with a bottle of Wild Turkey, and I just can't stand to be around her when she's like that. I'll probably just go back to my apartment and fix something."

"Nonsense. You're coming to my house. I already invited Yolanda and a few others for turkey and all the rest, and Holly's going to be there." She gave me a knowing smile.

"I'd love to come, Ma," I said. "That would be really nice."

I went to my work station and found Yolanda already suited up and elbow deep in prep work.

"Hey lover-boy," she said, "I hear you had a real good time on Sunday with Holly. About time you started acting like a man around her."

"Knock it off, Yolanda. We had dinner and went for a walk. That's it."

"Did you have a good time?"

"Yes, I did."

"Did you spend the night with her?"

"No, and even if I had, I wouldn't tell you!"

"Did you kiss her? Now don't you go lying' to Aunt Yolanda, boy. I can smell a liar from a coupla blocks away."

I was embarrassed, but she was right. I couldn't lie to her. "Yes, Yolanda, I kissed her."

"Did she kiss you back?"

"Yes, she did."

"Was it good?"

"Yes, it was. Now please, can we drop this?"

"For now," Yolanda said, giving me a wicked smile. "But don't you go thinking' I'm gonna let you alone about this. You gotta make a serious play for that girl. She's ripe for the picking', and she wants you to make a move. Get your man on and go for it."

We settled into our usual frantic routine, and break time came up fast. I barely had time to talk to Holly while we worked, but at break, we all put our jackets on and went outside. As Yolanda smoked a cigarette, the three of us talked.

"Ma tells me you're coming with us to Thanksgiving dinner at her house after we close on Thursday," Holly said.

"She invited me this morning. I think it will be fun. I'm looking forward to having dinner with the people who have sort of become my new family," I said.

"I never thought I'd be family to some punk white boy," Yolanda wise-cracked.

"That's true. Oh, I get it. I'm the token minority!" We all laughed.

"I'm looking forward to it too," Holly said. "Ma's one of the nicest people I know, and she makes a great Thanksgiving dinner. She's done this for a few years, but she usually only invites old-timers like me and Yolanda. She really likes you, James. She respects you for what you're trying to do for this place."

"Do you need a ride to her house?" I asked. "I could take you and drop you off at your place when we're done. Besides, I don't know where she lives, so you could direct me."

"I'd like that, James."

Thanksgiving Day was insane. The place was packed for the mid-day meal, and we managed to have small portions of turkey, yams, and stuffing for everyone, along with our regular soup. The TV crew stayed longer than anyone expected, and they didn't just set up outside. A newsman and cameraman spent a lot of time in the dining room, interviewing staff and clients alike. A reporter from the paper was able to spend a few minutes with Ma, and she introduced him to some of us in the kitchen. JZ and Yolanda gave him a few good quotes about the importance of the kitchen in the survival of the street people in this part of our city, and both of them were completely honest with him about their own backgrounds and why they were there.

After we had closed down the kitchen, Holly and I went out to my car and headed to Ma's house. As I half expected, Ma assigned us seats at her dining room table, and Holly and I were placed next to each other. We all talked about what a busy and exciting day it had been, and Ma seemed very pleased with the publicity we had gotten.

We stuffed ourselves. Ma is an excellent cook. Over pumpkin pie and warm apple cider, we talked more about the importance of the next four weeks. "Kids," she said, "I've got to be honest with you. We're in deep financial trouble. The utility bills are overdue, and some of our suppliers are starting to threaten to suspend our deliveries if we don't catch up on our payments to them. Last summer, I mortgaged this house and lent the money to the foundation to help out, but they are struggling to make their payments to me. I have my late husband's life insurance money to use to pay back the mortgage, and I'm prepared to do that, but still, things don't look good.

"The fundraiser will save us," Holly said.

"It will help, but I'm afraid it won't be enough. Starting in January, we may have to change our kitchen hours to cut down on the number of meals we serve. It's the only thing I can think of to try to cut expenses."

"Some of our people will go hungry," Yolanda said.

"I know, but what else can I do?" Ma answered. "The only other thing we can do is just keep on like we are until they turn off the lights and the gas, and then just close up completely. I don't want to think about having to do that."

We talked a while longer, but it was getting late. I drove Holly back to her place and walked her to her door.

"I heard the one guy from the TV crew say that they were going to do a spot on the 11 o'clock news about the kitchen. I want to watch it," Holly said.

"So do I," I answered, "so I guess I should get going."

Holly looked at my watch. "It's almost 11 now. If they do it as the lead story, you're going to miss it. Come in and watch it with me."

She led me into her apartment, and indicated that I should sit on the couch. She turned on the TV, and then sat down next to me. The local news came on almost immediately.

"Good evening. I'm Mike Samuels, and I'm here today at the South Street Community Kitchen. Over 350 disadvantaged residents of our city depend on this facility as their only means to escape starvation. Standing with me is the amazing woman who runs this place, a woman who prefers to be known simply as Ma. Tell our viewers about the work you people do here, Ma."

Ma gave a brief interview, explaining that the kitchen was run by a small charitable foundation, and that all of our operating budget came from donations and charitable contributions. She also said that the demand for our services was on the rise, while funding was decreasing. The camera then switched to shots of the dining room, filled with homeless people having their meager Thanksgiving dinner. After that was some footage taken in the kitchen. The TV guy was doing a voice-over as these scenes were shown.

"The South Street kitchen struggles more every month to stay open," he said. "All of their workers are volunteers, or individuals like James Summers, shown here, who was sentenced to community service work here at the kitchen as a result of a brush with the law."

"That's you!" Holly exclaimed.

Mike Samuels continued, "James is a student at the City Technical Institute School of Culinary Arts. He has involved his classmates and his instructor in a campaign to raise desperately needed funds to allow the kitchen to provide a proper Christmas dinner for its patrons, and, hopefully, to allow the kitchen to remain in operation throughout the winter, when its services are needed the most. I spoke with James' instructor, David Fredricks, about their fund-raising effort.

"Look, Holly, that's my instructor! I didn't know he worked the serving line today!" I said.

Mr. Fredricks was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, covered with an apron that had some food stains on it. He had a hairnet on his head. It appeared that they had just closed down the serving line. The TV reporter got Mr. Fredricks to talk about our fundraiser.

Then the scene switched to Mike Samuels on the sidewalk outside the kitchen. He said, "The current recession has made it tough for all of us. But most of us will still have some kind of a dinner on Christmas, and expect to be able to continue to feed ourselves and our families. For the people of South Street, the picture is not as good. As we move into the holiday season, we ask that you take a moment to think about these disadvantaged people, and the struggling facility that tries to help them. Your small contribution can make a huge difference. For more information about the South Street Community Kitchen or the City Technical Institute's fundraiser, go to the websites being shown on your screen, or call the toll-free number shown here to make a pledge. A little help will go a long way." The TV then cut to a commercial.

Holly looked at me, wonder in her eyes. "You're going to do it, James. You and your friends are going to save the kitchen."

"I hope so," I said.

Holly leaned into me and kissed me. Our kiss was warm, loving, full of joy and hope. She then turned her back to me and settled against me. I put my arms around her to hold her, and we relaxed, cuddled together to watch the rest of the news. She was asleep before the sports came on.

The feel of Holly's warm body against me was both stimulating and comforting. She just felt right. Being with her made me happy. Apparently, I was more tired from our busy day than I thought, because I don't remember seeing the weather broadcast.

At some point, I think I remember feeling us shift our positions on the couch so we were lying down together, but the next thing I was truly conscious of was the smell of Holly's lovely hair against my face. I woke up to feel her beautiful ass pressed against my morning wood. My hand was cupping her one firm tit, and I could feel the very hard nipple between my fingers.

"James? James? Wake up. I could lie here like this with you forever, but we need to get ready to go to the kitchen."

I became conscious enough to realize where my hand and cock were. I quickly removed my hand and attempted to pull my pelvis away from her. "Oh God, Holly, I'm sorry."

"Please, James, it's Okay. You're not the first man I've ever woken up next to." She stood up, looked intensely into my eyes, and then looked shyly down at the floor. "I've been awake for a while. I liked to feel you against me. But," she said, looking up again, "we need to get moving. You take a shower while I make breakfast. I've got some football jerseys that I sometimes wear to bed. One of them should fit you. You don't really have time to go home. There are extra towels in the bathroom."

When I got out of the shower, I could smell the full-bodied aromas of Colombian coffee and bacon. I dressed quickly and went to the kitchen. "Smells wonderful!" I said. Holly turned and smiled at me, and again, I appreciated her beauty. Especially those damn dimples.

"Breakfast is served, dear sir," she teased, as she set a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice, a plate filled with perfectly browned bacon and two eggs sunny-side up, a side plate of whole-grain toast, and a steaming mug of coffee in front of me.

She joined me at the table with smaller portions of her own.

"Wow, Holly, you didn't have to do all this. I usually just grab a bowl of cereal for myself in the morning."

"You, the aspiring master chef, don't cook in the mornings? I would have thought eggs Benedict and made-from-scratch muffins would have been your usual fare."

"I would do that if I had a guest for breakfast, I guess," I said between bites.

"I'd like to have you make me breakfast sometime," Holly said. Then she quickly looked at her plate and began to eat.

As I ate, I wondered exactly what she had meant by that. Did she just want me to invite her for breakfast, or did I dare to infer much more?

"Would you do me a favor, James?" Holly asked as she stood up from the table.

"Sure. What?"

"I have time for a quick shower before we have to go. Would you mind doing the dishes? There should be plenty of hot water. You don't have to worry about freezing me in the shower."

"I'd be happy to." Holly quickly left the room.

Odd. I normally hate washing dishes. But that domestic chore was suddenly enjoyable, I guess because I was doing Holly's dishes. For a moment, I found myself just standing at the sink, my hands in the water, listening to the sounds of Holly in the shower. I wondered what she looked like, shampoo in her hair, soapy water streaming over her tits, her luscious looking ass, and her pussy. I wondered if she was shaved. I tried to clear my head, saying to myself, "Stop it James. We're just friends. Getting to be very good friends, but friends, all the same. Don't do something stupid and screw it up."

We were a couple of minutes late getting to the kitchen. Ma gave us a strange look when we rushed in together, but simply said, "I was starting to worry about you two". Yolanda, to my surprise, kept her mouth shut for once. But her smiles at me seemed a little more naughty than usual.

The crowd wasn't too overwhelming, although after the previous day, almost nothing would have overwhelmed me.

At lunch, Ma joined us in the dining room. "I've been on the phone all morning. It just won't stop ringing. Mr. Fredricks, your instructor, Jimmy-boy, tells me that the websites they showed on the news last night have crashed twice because of the number of hits they've been getting. The TV reporter who was here yesterday called to say that the station has hired two temps to man that toll-free number, because they're getting so many calls. They didn't say how much they've received in pledges, because they can't keep up with the totals. But he did tell me that one anonymous donor asked for an estimate of our utility bills for next year, because he's thinking of paying them for us!"

Yolanda said, "Ma, that's the kind of help that could keep this place afloat. Thank you, lord!"

Ma said, "Jimmy-boy, if your people do what I think they're going to do, we could have enough to make a big Christmas dinner for everyone, with enough money left over to carry us deep into next year. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Holly grabbed my hand, on top of the table where everyone could see it. "You're saying that James is going to save the kitchen."

"Not without a lot of luck, and lot of help from my friends," I pointed out quickly.

Yolanda said, "James, I told you before, you make your own luck. Just like you make your own friends. I'd be proud to hear that you think I'm one of them."

"You've gotten to be one of my closest friends, Yolanda. In spite of the way you tease me, in spite of the way you make fun of me sometimes, I know you're a very special friend."

Since this was my Thanksgiving break from work and school, I worked my usual Saturday, and went in on Sunday, too. Each day was the same after our Thanksgiving rush, busy, but manageable.

As we were getting back to work after lunch on Sunday, Holly said to me, "What are you doing after work tonight?"

"I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"Go shopping for Christmas decorations for the dining room. The stuff we have is so old and beat up that I hate to see us put it up again."

"Okay," I said. "That could be fun."

"We could stay late next Saturday and decorate after we close the dining room. You could stay at my place again, and I'll make us breakfast." She didn't wait for a reply, but instead turned and walked to her work area. I watched her tight little ass sway as she walked away.

I head Yolanda chuckle. "Stay at her place again? She'll make you breakfast again?"

"It's not what you think, Yolanda. We fell asleep on her couch watching the 11 o'clock news Thanksgiving night."

"Uh huh," Yolanda said, giving me a wicked smile.

"We did, damn it. And our clothes were on the whole time, in case you need to know."

"I've been at Holly's place. She has a nice couch, but you had to get pretty damn cozy to both fit on it together. Clothes stayed on? Yeah, well, it's a start," Yolanda said.

I could feel the heat in my cheeks, but I decided I shouldn't say anything more.

Every time Holly came over to me that day, I found myself looking at her a little differently than I ever had before. It wasn't really lust; I'd already had some fantasies about her, and there was no denying how attractive she was. I realized that my attraction to her wasn't just physical anymore. And I was starting to get pretty comfortable with the idea.

Yolanda caught me looking at Holly a couple of times. She just gave me her knowing smile, and sometimes a little wink.

After work, Holly and I got in my car. We wanted to get busy with our shopping, but we were both hungry, so we stopped at a little pizzeria and grabbed a quick dinner. Over dinner, we talked a lot about the kitchen. We agreed to split the expense of the decorations, and then discussed the kinds of decorations we thought we could afford.

After dinner, when I opened my car door for Holly, she drew me in and kissed me again. "I think this is going to be a great Christmas, James."

"I do too," I said as I held her warm body tight against me.

Holly directed me to a store that specialized in discount holiday decorations. The place was huge, and had every type of light, wreath, tree, and decoration you could imagine. We spent a long time admiring everything and trying to make up our minds. An employee came over and asked if he could help us, since it was getting close to closing time.

"We're trying to find some simple, durable decorations that we can use for a big room," Holly said. "But we don't have a lot of money to spend."

The store employee looked at me. "Don't I know you from someplace?" he asked. "Wait, didn't I see you on TV? You're from the South Street kitchen, aren't you?"

"I work there. Their dining room is what we're trying to decorate," I said.

"Wait right there," the guy said, and he hurried off. In just a moment, he returned with a heavy-set older man, with a flowing white beard and white hair.

"Hi, my name's Chris," the man said. "And yes, I get it all the time, since my last name starts with a K. I've always loved Christmas, so when my hair went from gray to white, I decided, why not? The beard completes the Kris Kringle image, don't you think? But enough about me. I saw you on the news last night. James, isn't it? And is this lovely young lady your wife?"

Holly said, "My name's Holly. James and I work together at the South Street Community Kitchen. We decided we wanted to decorate the dining room for the season. But we don't have a lot to spend."

"Holly? Oh I like that," Chris said. "Was your father's name Rudolph, by any chance?"

"Frank, actually," Holly replied.

"No matter," Chris said, giving us a jolly laugh. "Just a little holiday humor."

We both managed to grin politely at the man's poor attempt at a joke.

"Hmm," Chris said, combing his beard with his fingers. "I saw the dining room on the news. I think I have some things that would really spruce it up. Get it? Spruce? Christmas tree?" He laughed, and his belly honestly did shake. "Oh never mind, just follow me.

"You'll need these lights, about twenty strings, to put around the windows and along the tops of the walls. Don't worry. They're LEDs. Hardly use any electricity. And a couple boxes of these window appliques. The ceiling looked to be about twelve feet high on TV. Is that about right?"

"Yes, but we don't have much money," Holly said. "James and I are paying for this out of our own pockets, and we just can't spend much."

"Okay, you'll need about a ten-foot tree. Here, we just got this one in yesterday. Artificial, but top-of-the line. It'll last for years. This display model here comes complete with lights and decorations. That would do nicely."

"Chris," I said, "we can't afford anything like that."

"What? Oh, my dear boy, you're not paying for anything. I wouldn't hear of it. It's Christmas! Consider this a donation. I'll even put everything up for you. When is your dining room empty?"

Holly said, "The last of the breakfast crowd is out by 9, and we don't re-open the doors for lunch until 11:30. But wait, you're donating this stuff?"

"Of course. I was poor once too. Dirt poor. I know you can't tell now, considering how, ahem, portly I've become, but as a kid I never had enough to eat. That's why I love Christmas so much. It's a season of giving and joy. Let me enjoy Christmas this year by giving to you folks. I'll load up my sleigh (actually, it's a truck) and I'll be there at nine with some of my elves, I mean, employees. We can be done and out of there by 11. What do you say?"

For a minute, Holly and I couldn't say anything. Finally, I found my voice. "I guess 'Thank you' is pretty weak, but it's all I can think of."

"'Thank you' is more than enough for me," Chris said. "Now run along, you two. I've got some work to do."


To be continued. Based on a post  by want some fun, for Sex Stories.