Simpsons Porn Story: Unexpected Connections Chapter 14

AUTHORESS’S NOTE: This is the final chapter of the story, and I just wanted to thank all my readers and all my reviewers from the bottom of my heart. You have all motivated and inspired me to continue writing this story, and each of you means a great deal to me. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) I also hope you follow me as I embark on other stories, for I will be sure to follow yours! Thank you again so much, and enjoy the last segment of “Unexpected Connections”.

Yeah, yeah, of course we can talk, I stammered as I jumped off the couch anxiously. I felt like I couldnt breathe; I was so unprepared to see Mr. Smithers again that day, to see him again anytime soon, and there he was. Standing in my living room, wanting to talk to me. It was so surreal and wonderful and frightening and I wasnt sure how to deal with the situation. It had always been I who sought Mr. Smithers out before, excluding the one time he called me on the phone, which was scary in its own right, but it wasnt like this.

I took a deep breath and asked, Umdo you want to talk in my room?

Mr. Smithers paused. Uh, sure.

The awkwardness of the event was only worsened by my moms presence, especially now that I had confessed all those humiliating things to her. But she just smiled faintly as we paced upstairs. I still wasnt sure if a smile was warranted, however. I really had no idea what Mr. Smithers would say.

We spoke not a word on our way up until I opened the door and we walked inside. We both stood there, looking at everything in the room but each other, until I took a seat on the edge of my bed and invited Mr. Smithers to do the same. He did, and then the silence resumed its supremacy for a few minutes longer.

SoIguess it seems like Ive been doing a lot of things wrong lately, Mr. Smithers finally said. I find myself constantly apologizing to you, and well, I hate the fact that Ive done anything that I should be apologizing for, but its the truth, and I guess this isnt really making much sense, but I just wanted to say He slowed his speech and looked at me forlornly. Im sorry I hurt you.

Thank you, Mr. Smithers, I said softly. But you had every right to be upset. I didnt mean to invade your privacy, I would never want to make you feel uncomfortable or offended, and yet, thats what I did. Several times now. I looked away. Its no wonder you didnt want me as your friend.

But Miss Simpson, I did. And I do, Mr. Smithers corrected ardently. I turned my face back to him. Lisa, I never had children of my own. And I probably never will. But as I got to know you, I began almost considering you something like my daughter.

Taken aback, I replied, Oh, wellMr. Smithers, I already have a father. I wantedwell, a friend. Or maybe something more. I looked up at him, both praying he understood what I was trying to say and hoping he didnt.

I could tell from the expression on his face that he did understand. And now I waited, my heart racing, for a response. Oh he began nervously. Well, I didnt realize. He turned away from me and looked around my room tensely. Are you saying you wanted a he started. He looked back at me, though it seemed like it pained him to do so. Uma romanticrelationship?

I was tempted to refute it, but I found that I couldnt. All I could do was nod and try to internally calm the commotion in my heart.

Mr. Smithers put his elbows on his knees and his hands on his face. He spoke delicately. Miss Simpson, you know that we cant have that type of relationship, dont you?

I looked down. I knew it was coming. I knew there was no way he would reciprocate my desires, but it still hurt me deeply. Well, yes, I did. But I dont know. I just thoughtI dont even know anymore.

Silence prevailed.

Miss Simpson, Im sorry Ive been so insensitive to your feelings. I didnt know

Its okay, I quickly said, a blaze of fire tones in all probability being set upon my usually yellow face. I was embarrassed enough admitting my crush to my crush, I didnt need him to make it worse by apologizing for his unawareness about it.

Well, Lisa, Im 43-years-old, and even if you were my age, youd deserve someone much better than me.

I doubt that there is anyone that is, I confessed abashedly.

Mr. Smithers smiled bashfully and blushed. I bet you say that to all the boys, he joked.

What other boys? Youre the only one I can relate to.

The smile that was Mr. Smithers face disappeared at this comment. Miss Simpson, I understand the feeling of just wanting to be older because you know in your heart that you are. I went through it when I was your age, and I guess I am still going through it, because to be honest with you, people like us seldom find one place or time where we belong. Thats why kindred spirits have to stick together. And even though we cant possibly be anything more than friends, I still want us to be friends.

I nodded solemnly. I would like that very much.

The problem isI justdont know if I can be the kind of friend you want. I dont know if I can tell you things about myself that a normal friend could and should. He then sighed. I want to, Lisa. But IIm pretty screwed up, and I dont want to taint your idealism.

Mr. Smithers, I may be young in years, but I see the world for what it is. Whatever idealism I may have is not because I overlook faults in the world, in peopleits because I know that these faults are only natural parts of living. They can be tolerated. They can be meliorated. They exist, but they make the world what it is, I argued. If I couldnt have Mr. Smithers as my love interest, I needed him to be the next best thing: a real friend.

Mr. Smithers dithered for a moment. Maybe thats true, but Iif I were to expose you to things that an 8-year-old shouldnt be exposed to, I would justwell, I couldnt do that. We both sat in silence for a few moments longer, until Mr. Smithers continued, But you can tell me things if you want. I could be a one-way confidant, if youd like.

I hesitated. What was the point of having a confidant that doesnt confide you in back? I wondered. But still, it was better than nothing. I wanted Mr. Smithers in my life one way or the other. I suppose if thats the only kind of friendship youre comfortable with offering me, Ill have to take it.

We sat on the bed, both of us dejected by the turn of events and the less than desired outcome. That is, until Mr. Smithers suddenly turned to me and said, You know what, Miss Simpson? The hell with societys standards. We have a connection, and we owe it to ourselves to be real friends.

I could swear my heart literally inflated. You mean it?

I do, he said, smiling, looking positively invigorated. I mean, I love Mr. Burns, but I cant tell him some things that I should be able to tell a normal friend.

Thats how I feel about my peers and usually my family. As much as I love them, they just dont understand some things

And its not their fault. Its justwell, the connection is different, Mr. Smithers finished flawlessly. Not so unexpected yet not so perfect either.

Exactly. I looked up at Mr. Smithers and we smiled unanimously, blissful in our bond.

What do you say we go out for ice cream and then hit the new Malibu Stacy musical? Mr. Smithers asked, hopping off my bed.

That sounds wonderful! I exclaimed.

That reminds me Mr. Smithers said, reaching into a small sack I just now realized he had brought. I want you to have this. As a symbol of our friendship.

Mr. Smithers handed me the Alexa doll. I gasped. Oh, Mr. Smithers, no. I could never take her from you!

You can, and you will, he responded, smiling.

I hesitated and beamed back. Oh, thank you.

Youre very welcome, my friend. Now we should get going. The musical starts at 6. I placed my new doll affectionately on my shelf. It was so beautiful and rare. Just like our friendship. I knew I would later grieve the loss of hope of a romance with Mr. Smithers, but for now, I was purely happy.

Mrs. Hoover might have been right when she told me that everything couldnt always end up just the way I wanted it to. But I realized that maybe what fate gave me was even better than any desire my young heart could fabricate.

THE END