N.B. Spellings (if correct) are in UK English. All the characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author neither condones or endorses any of the activities detailed in this story, which could well be illegal in certain jurisdictions. I'm adding (for legal reasons) that apparently if you're under-age you mustn't read this, so if that's the case go away and grow up.

“Please don't die... Please don't die...”

The echo of some tiny little voice bounced around in the barely functioning recesses of his mind. He didn't recognise the voice, he hadn't had a lucid thought since.... Time seemed to have lost all sense of meaning, hours, days, weeks; months may have passed without any frame of reference.

He was vaguely aware his body ached all over, his head fuzzy and temples pounding as if to make any rational thought cower and hide. For times he would feel feverish then at the flick of a switch his body would be chilled to the marrow, his teeth chattering, though he couldn't string together anything that made sense, his brain too clouded.

“Please don't die... Please don't die...”

From sheer exhaustion his body must have lapsed into something resembling sleep maybe it was during these brief episodes fragments of memory coalesced. The simple unpleasant winter virus in some way mutated, taking an unexpected turn, something about sensitivity to light exacerbating the symptoms. The idiots ignoring sage medical advice showing such a devil my care attitude, thinking themselves invulnerable, like stupidly attending massive prayer meetings, they became major vectors which changed the odds spreading the virus.

He couldn't really remember the last of the broadcasts - then the power failed.

Civil disorder...

A breakdown of society...

Life in cities became untenable without power water or regular deliveries......

“Please don't die... Please don't die...”

Buzz, buzz, buzz, something touched his face, moving, no it was his mind wandering again as he tried to grasp reality that always seemed out of reach, like the wetness to his lips if just for a moment. His body felt so far away at times as if down some distant tunnel.

He imagined sweetness, the taste of honey, he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten honey, his mind again playing tricks on his senses.

His skin prickled with the heat, pungent sweat, he imagined he felt cold steel against his limbs, the distance so great, his throat too sore, too swollen to speak, his mind still totally inarticulate. Between the heat and chills something new invaded his senses reminding him of being bathed as a child, the vague feeling soothing him into a period of calmness.

The most lucid thoughts came together during his exhausted hours of sleep, actually when his mind wasn't struggling to reassemble the pieces which troubled him in his delirium, the state of confusion that dominated the heavy fog which had settled into his head.

Fragments would come together then slip away again, those first news reports that maybe one percent of those who became ill might succumb, then five, or was it twenty-five, then it got really crazy, like some Zombie apocalypse attack rather than a simple flue virus.

He imagined an oasis, drips of sweet refreshing water on his tongue, alternating with drips of honey. He was buried so deep within his own head he couldn't determine what was real and what were the nightmares that floated around in his brain. Sometimes he felt he was reaching for the surface, then he'd once again be sinking further from the light and air.

“Please don't die... Please don't die...”

That extra voice in his head didn't sound like his own voice, was someone sharing his odd twilight existence...

Cool wet sponge.. where did that thought come from, then it was gone.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.... a heartbeat!

He didn't know why that was significant... Yes he'd been feeling chilled, now, now he was drifting away, the muscle pains and lethargy easing.

Sometimes lucid glimpses of his life would float through his mind, such was the clarity he was certain they were real, his own past, not some book or film. He'd heard that your life flashed before your eyes in the moments prior to death, death was taking it's own sweet time in arriving.

Heather had refused to testify, they had loved one another, hearsay plus circumstantial evidence wasn't enough for a prosecution. Six months later he'd moved State, he wasn't on any offenders register but somehow the rumours had followed, even to this sleepy old backwater. A little bedroom community, smallish towns in three directions that provided the jobs, schools and services, not a place people would visit without good reason, literally on the road to nowhere.

The local population numbered... he couldn't remember a hundred and fifty or sixty, maybe that was right he wasn't sure... Somebody died, no, more than one person, then he got sick himself.

He remembered buying the house, it was partially off-grid, though it had connections to the services, but it had spring water, wind and solar power. The former owner had been some sort of prepper, just hadn't planned on a fatal heart attack, sold off by the mortgage company as-is with all the furniture and supplies stocked in the basement.

Neither the house nor the region itself would've been his choice originally, it just fell within his budget, and he hadn't imagined his new neighbours would learn anything of his past.

“Please don't die... Please don't die...”

The theme in his head was repetitive.

Moving house involved a good deal of form filling, registering locally with one government department or another. Somewhere along the line a neighbour must've googled his name, and about six months after moving in he became a person of suspect morals, anyone with children giving him a wide birth.

It was pointless raising MAP (Minor Appreciating Person) or AoA (Age of Appreciation) if the people had already turned their backs on you. Liking girls who ranged in age from pre teen through to early post adolescence made him a typical hebephile.

If current socio-moral attitudes hadn't been so hostile towards relationships of asymmetric age partners he wondered if it would ever have been possible for a relationship to have blossomed beyond that initial starting point. Unfortunately most tentative relationships hardly even got started before some outside interference closed down the shutters.

Were his periods of lucid thought becoming longer? More frequent?

It was only a matter of time before the virus reached their little backwater, families staying home isolating themselves, some praying for divine help. He moved into the games room, being a semi-basement, sort of camping-out indoors, large inflatable mattress, having a full bathroom within crawling distance surrounded by MRE's, high energy snack foods, and stuff he didn't need to cook, water, plus containers of juice.

Dust motes floated through the narrow shaft of light 'Brownian movement' that seemed like a rational thought. His felt wetness on his cheek, movement, turning his head without pain or difficulty for the first time since – well a long time.

A bottle and a tube, they weren't his? He realised it was the sort of drip feeder used for a small animal, like a rabbit or hamster, string and gaffer-tape holding it to a chair frame by his cot. He was thirsty, drawing on the metal teat he lapped at the refreshing liquid, water that held some additional sweetness, honey?

He still felt incredibly weak barely able to summon the energy to think straight. He could hear the rain, the tiny patch of sky he could see didn't look cloudy, that was odd, the sound then stopped abruptly... He was tired, his mind fading after so much activity.

He remembered the sensation of rolling, the bathroom adjoining the games room was a full wet-room exceeding the normal codes for disabled compliant facilities. The super wide access would allow one or more carers to tend to someone with almost any disability.

Why was he thinking about the wet-room?

The rain, it wasn't rain, someone had been taking a shower!

The leap of logic was surprising, the thought interesting though leaving him again tired and ready to sleep again.

Buzz, buzz, buzz, something touched his face, moving, no it wasn't his mind wandering as he tried to grasp reality, reality that always seemed out of reach before. The scene was as bizarre as he could imagine a girl kneeling on his deflated mattress, his head cradled on her soft thighs as she leaned forwards over him electric razor skimming across his face, cooing her regular mantra willing, or maybe instructing him not to die.

“Please don't die... Please don't die...”

“You've saved me.” his own voice was hardly recognisable, making the girl squeak with surprise dropping the razor, then fumbling to switch it off.

Sarah had grown-up a lot in the space of the past few months. She was nine going on ten at a time when she should have been playing with dolls, running in the park with friends as they laughed about the latest Disney movies or the antics of puppy videos...

When the sickness came, the virus, her mum as a nurse had to do extra shifts. At first it was a nuisance, but she didn't mind stopping over with Mrs Preston, it happened loads of times before when her mum worked overtime.

It had always been Sarah and her mum, her mum saying Sarah was the best ever accident of her life. They spoke several times each day on the phone as the world seemed to get more crazy, then everything started shutting down as all the key workers got the sickness.

Mrs Preston got sick sending Sarah to stay with another neighbour, eventually it seemed as if everyone in the town was getting ill then dying. Mr Benton dug a big hole and she saw him dropping in the bodies wrapped in sheets, then using the big yellow machine to cover them with dirt.

She couldn't understand why she hadn't got sick, her mum had spoken of immunisation or natural immunity, but this was some new disease not seen before. Eventually Sarah was running out of food, and although stealing was wrong if the people were dead anyway they wouldn't mind her taking stuff as she worked her way through the abandoned ghost town looking for supplies.

Mr Benton did last long enough to bury most of those that died, a few had died in their beds but there was little Sarah could do other than leave those houses well alone.

Sarah had cried a lot, crying for herself, for her mother, even for all those other people who'd been swept away by an uncaring disease. She moved back into her own house just because it was familiar, her own stuff and reminders of mum. She didn't really give much thought to the future, just deciding to visit the last few houses to check out available food.

She nearly avoided the old Bowmen property, but then she remembered he was supposed to be one of those survivalist nut-jobs before he keeled over with a massive heart attack a year ago. Mr Harris moved in later, Tom Harris, he seemed a nice friendly but quiet man, then the talk had started amongst the grown-ups, that Mr Harris was a danger to children, and then overnight he became unpopular with many local people.

Sarah didn't give it much thought, just assuming he was one of those many dead bodies in the mass grave at the end of the road...

He wasn't dead!!

He was barely alive, but he wasn't dead. She very nearly turned and fled, she didn't, what would her mum have done?

Rule one - don't panic. Triage. Is the patient in immediate danger, check for breathing and pulse, are they bleeding, is anything broken?

She realised her own pulse must have spiked sort of finding him there unexpectedly, now following guidelines of what to do during an emergency helped her keep calm, it's what nurses, doctors, and carers did.

What should she do first, in a hospital they would do an intravenous drip, yes water was the most vital thing. She didn't have that fancy stuff, and wouldn't know how to use it as that required proper training. To get water inside her patient it would need to be via the most common route, by mouth in someone who was barely conscious – a baby bottle, she didn't have a baby bottle. The family that used to have rabbits, they had bottles that fixed to the cage, they would always knock over any water bowl, but they would suck, every animal knew how to suck.

She hadn't ran so fast in weeks, turning the shed upside-down, two bottles with the lids and bent tubes. Should she sterilise them, would it even matter. Washed and filled with clean water she held the tube to his mouth, a line of moisture between his lips, movement as he took tiny sips of life giving liquid. It was painfully slow, her arms aching even after swapping back and forth, she couldn't spend her whole time being a bottle holder.

Eventually she figured out how to fix a bottle to a dinning room chair with tape and string so the tube stayed near his mouth. She had only solved the first of many problems, the next one was food sort-of, they gave patients glucose - she dissolved some honey into the second water bottle, not even wanting to think about the next task, but the smell made it obvious she needed to do something.

People in their little community had been self isolating pretty much from the start, once someone became infected anywhere between three days to a fortnight later and they were gone, it hadn't started that way, they spoke about a mutation, a stronger strain that took hold somewhere along the line. Sarah had thought she was the last living person, why her it was so unfair, she had watched friends and neighbours dying, it was cruel fate that her mum had probably died at the county hospital trying to save strangers.

Mr Harris must have been here for a quite a long time getting weaker, yet he hadn't died, he must have some resistance to the awful virus too. It looked like he'd crawled to the bathroom and back until he became to weak or disorientated, then he'd had an accident, well more than once, helpless like a baby. He couldn't remain like that it wasn't healthy for him, or for her if she was going to become his nurse.

Old or sick people became incontinent, it wasn't nice, she had changed babies diapers before now, her mum insisting she learn how to do it properly if she ever wanted to earn her keep as a responsible babysitter when she became a teenager.

She didn't want to work harder, she needed to work smarter, that's what professionals like her mum did when caring for patients. Even being sick Mr. Harris must be twice her weight so patient handling would be difficult, dressing and undressing for toileting and primary care weren't really an option, rolling or sliding the patient using sheets of polythene wrap might not be so daunting across the smooth floor.

Nurse Sarah went to gather her supplies, stopping off at several nearby houses, finally she had some sense of purpose after the despair of watching everybody die. The large fabric shears came from the lady that did upholstery, some of her other supplies came from the home workshop of a craft specialist.

Wearing a disposable plastic apron over just T-shirt and panties would be plenty enough to complete her difficult task. Once in the wet-room she began cutting off the clothing like they did in a trauma ward from car accidents. If he died it wouldn't matter, though if he lived, then the loss of some old clothing wouldn't seem that important anyway.

She nearly gagged at the smell, reminding herself to be professional, bagging the wasted clothes that were now cut to shreds, adjusting the water temperature to clean her patient.

He was a dead weight and difficult to dry, but she figured out how to roll him from the wet room back onto the soft half-deflated mattress, importantly now everything was clean so that was one less thing to worry about.

The adult sized diapers had been more commonplace than she'd suspected, and without her patient taking solid foods they would just soak-up the pee. Intubating a person wasn't even on her radar, although her mum hadn't been shy talking of catheters and stuff which were needed for unconscious hospital patients.

Aside from keeping him hydrated, and adding the salts used for that class of patient there was little else to be done other than try to keep his temperature stable. Cooling him down when he was sweating, hugging him close and covering them both with blankets when he shivered with chills. Frequently she talked to him, imploring him not to die...

He woke. He felt weak as a kitten, it was an effort merely to breathe. He took in how he felt, a pleasant warmth spread down one side, a tiny regular breeze of air stirring the hairs on his chest. Opening his eyes he looked at the angel holding him, anchoring him to the pallet, he recalled her face, her voice from the depths of his delirium. How could this tiny little waif have managed, where was everyone else?

This time he was staying awake, before there had been brief moments, now they were talking in whole sentences, well she was doing most of the talking, but he was giving her his full attention, then asking a few questions of his own.

Tom insisted she'd saved his life, once he'd become delirious then unconscious he wouldn't of survived regardless of all the supplies that lay readily to hand.

He recalled Sarah and her mother Jennifer as living in a place towards the centre of their little hamlet. Rumours regarding his past had almost been his downfall, Sarah thankfully thinking he was among the dead, therefore it would be safe scavenging from the house of

Mr. Tom Harris, the man thought to be a danger to children.

Ironically the only other survivor from their settlement was the daughter of a nurse, who having absorbed lessons from all those tales about her mum's work at the hospital, Sarah had without doubt saved his life through her intervention. His strength gradually returned as she nursed him back to health, he couldn't even sit-up unaided at first, but within days of regaining consciousness he was able to crawl to the bathroom to at least piss into the floor drain rather than the adult sized diaper. It was a further week or more before he was able to stand, though he was unsteady on his feet, deciding not to risk causing any further

problems, he agreed to follow Sarah's advice about taking things slowly.

Sarah was surprised to discover Tom was about the most honest grown-up aside from her mum who she'd ever met. He didn't talk down to her, or evade awkward questions as he explained why he'd become suddenly unpopular. The world couldn't be divided into black and white, or right and wrong, too often there were countless shades of grey in between which many people refused to acknowledge.

He explained his attraction and fascination with supposedly underage girls, and how most of society were blinkered into finding an unsavoury label to cover many diverse groups of people with a cover-all term of paedophilia. The media used that term to include together people who harmed and abused youngsters, and those who were attracted to youngsters that society deemed too young to make decisions about their own personal relationships.

She had kept it a secret when she and Charlotte had messed around together, but she'd been so fascinated with the way her older friend's breasts seemed to blossom over such a short space of time. The kissing and touching had been fun, making her giddy bringing on a host of new feelings, but they realised that many adults wouldn't approve. Because Tom seemed so understanding she'd told him about her and Charlotte, getting the kind of reply she had come to expect, about girls often seeking the intimate company of other girls at the most formative time during their development, and almost all girls did likewise, some even well before the onset of puberty.

Sarah had taken to sleeping beside Tom from early on, well from shortly after she'd gotten him clean, then having replaced all the bedding. It was just easier and far more practical to be beside her patient 24/7, well apart from seeing to her own basic needs, plus finding the supplies that they both required. Fortunately Tom's house seemed very well stocked with long lasting foodstuffs, and unlike any of the neighbouring properties he had working electrics that meant his freezers were running. Also he'd had the good sense to empty the fridge of any perishable food before he became too ill to function.

She had visited almost every nearby home, making comments in an old notebook about those houses with bodies inside, and those that had useful things she might need at some time in the future.

Tom had mostly listened during the earliest part of his convalescence, both appalled and at the same time feeling admiration with how Sarah had coped as the world collapsed all around her. Everything people took for granted like connectivity to the outside world, and the power, water, and other services blinking out as the workers all fell sick. Worst still her friends, neighbours, and her mother all dead, for a while believing she might be the last person left alive, hardly surprising she invested so much effort in restoring him to health.

She was innocent, or more correctly less tainted in a modern world which up until recently gave anybody access to virtually anything one could imagine, and countless things that a person wouldn't want to believe existed. She came across as intelligent and well adjusted despite the traumatic circumstances which had thrown them together, thinking perhaps his young companion would've found some way to survive even if his house and the resources it provided hadn't been available.

The loses were still too raw so they mostly avoided talking about the past, instead focused on preparations for the emerging spring, and thinking about planting or scavenging for the year ahead, unable to determine how people had fared elsewhere. Tom imagined if their own little hamlet had been reduced to around one percent, larger towns or cities would've suffered to an even greater extent given the larger number of potential carriers in such close proximity to one another.

Aside from his own personal firearms he had discovered the former owner had an arms cache which wasn't on the inventory of the bank's realtor among the sale details, so at least they'd be able to protect themselves if trouble came calling in the future.

Although he hadn't yet attempted the stairs in his weakened condition, he was now able to walk, abet slowly, but his mind was working as he thought about what he wanted to accomplish locally once he was feeling fitter. They would collect a more comprehensive list of consumables like dried or tinned goods, plus toilet paper and bathroom products from around the neighbourhood as a starting point. He saw no sense in moving as his house was already fairly autonomous, but at some point they might venture out further afield to spy on their nearest neighbouring towns from a safe distance to discover if there were any additional local survivors.

While Sarah had felt a duty to ensure his survival, being the experienced adult it would become his task shortly to assume that role of responsibility, though in all honesty it was teamwork that would give them both the mental strength to continue and thrive.

Sarah had never meant to embarrass Tom, she did what she did from a nursing imperative considering the practical aspects, therefore once he was able to reach the bathroom she was happy to fetch some shorts, underwear and T-shirts from his usual bedroom on the upper floor. Two flights of stairs would be well beyond his capabilities for a little while yet.

Aside from a few landscape paintings the walls around the house had been fairly devoid of artwork, not so his master-suite. She had been enraptured by the beautiful original prints, sketches, paintings and photographs, guessing they were real being signed and numbered as limited editions. They all depicted girls from fairly young through to early highschoolers. Tom had told her about the artists and photographers, Sally Mann, Hamilton, Bourboulon, Marcus, Oliver, and Sturges. There had been a few others, but those were the ones she liked best as he explained these once famous people were now viewed as 'infamous' from the world around them becoming too prescriptive about what was considered acceptable under the guise of political correctness.

She had loved the photographs and drawings in that the subjects all appeared so carefree and at ease with themselves and their nudity, the word Tom had used was their sensuality. Her understanding of that term being the pleasures arising from touching your special and private places, and the emotions that caused. Of course it could just be merely the sun on your skin, or a pleasant summer breeze carrying the scent of blossom, though she liked to imagine it meant more personal grown-up feelings, like the comfort she felt in Tom's arms.

Even when he'd been fairly delirious, he must have been aware of her presence, because this had calmed his agitated troubled dreams or nightmares. The first time his arms circled her body she'd been a little frightened, but his grasp was weak and ineffectual meaning she could easily have escaped his clutches if she'd wanted. Actually it was nice being held by someone after fearing she was totally alone, then once he began drifting back from the brink his feeble uncoordinated movements were replaced by what might be described as a need to cuddle, his hands often finding her panty clad bottom.

The awful pandemic had affected people differently, some people succumbing within just a few hours of being infected while others spent many weeks as their body's fought a losing battle with the virus. She herself had got the sniffles together with a mild fever which had then cleared-up much to her own relief and surprise. Aside from her mum working all the time in the hospital at lock-down, a few neighbours who'd left to be with family members elsewhere she'd originally imagined she was the only local survivor. Discovering Tom had been quite a shock, the fact that he was alive if barely hanging on; she knew that without her aid he wouldn't have lived on for very much longer.

She felt he'd saved her life too, giving her hope and a reason to carry-on when everything had seemed so bleak...

His recovery was progressing fairly well considering how weak he'd been when he'd first awoke to see his angel of mercy, those first few days being a very cloudy memory, maybe he should just concentrate on moving forwards, though life would be unrecognisable with the world outside, and society as they'd previously known it wiped away entirely.

Obviously they would miss many of the advantages of a globalised connected world, now having to be totally self-reliant, but on the flip-side there would be aspects of the former civilisation they were better off without. Until he'd fallen victim himself he'd followed the ever worsening news of the collapse, at the time wondering how they could ever recover from the increasing burden of failures throughout government and society generally.

He'd realised how fixated Sarah had become regarding his well-being, never leaving him for longer than necessary to complete other tasks, hurrying back to his side, establishing if he required anything, then snuggling close at night, a regular limpet. He didn't have any issues whatsoever with her familiarity, he wasn't complaining - far from it, though Sarah was much younger than any previous intimate companion. The last situation which had blown-up, causing an investigation with which Heather refused to cooperate, it had been a close call, but she'd stuck to her story that nothing untoward had taken place, they were just buddies who talked about common interests.

At fourteen she'd been nearing the upper end of his 'age-of-appreciation' though that was a mute point when she'd been such an enthusiastic lover willing to be experimental, never reluctant when it came to any form of sex. Their caution plus a love of bathing together meant there was no biological evidence to disprove their friendship was purely platonic.

Conversely Sarah was entering that most interesting phase of girlhood, being somebody who previously might be thought of as unattainable – except as a beautiful nymphet to be gazed at longingly and appreciatively – though with discretion and from a safe distance.

She was constantly at the forefront of his thoughts, it being inevitable they would become closer, and for the first time in his life he considered what it might be like to enter into a longer term relationship, one continuing beyond those of his previous intimate hebephilic episodes from his past, one stretching onwards through into adulthood!

Assuming things progressed he couldn't imagine abandoning her six or seven years down the line just because of the changes that would occur with the passing of time, besides he needed to be fair and practical. Another salient point was the devastating lack of people, because Sarah insisted everybody else within their local community had died, therefore they only had each other as companions for the foreseeable future.

Where they lived it never got too cold during the winter, nevertheless Sarah was surprised to discover the independent systems in Tom's house kept it at a comfortable temperature automatically. When she'd first discovered him on her foraging expedition she'd had a long woollen skirt with a fleece jacket because it had been blustery outside, whereas inside the house it had been fairly cozy. The fact there were working night-lights along the stairs and baseboards leading down to the semi-basement had caused her to explore further, never expecting to find Tom Harris had survived, just thinking it indicated the place could hold some interesting supplies.

Finding somebody alive, even if barely clinging to life had been a shock, Sarah supposed that because he seemed to have lasted for so long she had made the unconscious decision to try and save the only other survivor. Because of the state he'd been in, and due to the warmth of the basement stripping-down to her panties and T-shirt had been a practical solution after having located some disposable plastic aprons. Now this had become her normal mode of attire around the house, with Tom now wearing boxer shorts and T-shirts all the time as well, just covering themselves with a sheet at night.

Since those tentative explorations with Charlotte, Sarah had given more thoughts to her own development, or lack thereof. Okay she had grown a little taller, maybe she wasn't so straight up and down, those slender curves were only very slight, her silhouette differing from that of a boy, her bum and thighs perhaps shapely from her running and gymnastics.

Unlike younger girls, she'd developed an increasing awareness of her own body, and under any other circumstances she would've been embarrassed to be seen in her underwear, but somehow that had lost it's significance due to their current situation.

Having been his nurse, seeing Tom everyday, and sleeping with him every night caused her to think of him differently, his smell, his manliness, the comfort she felt from being held in his arms were bringing forth new urges which left her troubled and confused. Never having had a significant male in her life made adult men a mystery, only recently in the time prior to the sickness had she given any thought to men or boys, though the boys of her age-group were fairly stupid and totally clueless regarding girls anyway.

Would Tom become her boyfriend, would he want to do grown-up adult type stuff with her because that thought made her light headed, and she got the urge to touch her special place, her kitty. Maybe calling it her kitty was pretty childish, but the words vulva, vagina, and clitoris were the medical terms her mum would've used in talking about growing-up.

She'd heard older girls call it their pussy, that was the word Charlotte had always used, she almost wanted to cry thinking about her older playmate, but somewhere along the line she seemed to have run out of tears.

Tom liked younger girls, he'd told her as much during their long discussions, explaining to her how that had nearly been his downfall, the law at odds with the imperatives that ruled his behavioural inclinations. He hadn't gone out abducting or harming girls like they once carried on about in the media, the few relationships which he had developed hadn't been pressured or forced, the word he'd used was consensual, with the girl's permission, not going beyond those limits where the girl felt comfortable.

Would he want to do stuff with her, or was she still too young?

Recovery was slow, he was hardly any better at noting time than he was during the worst of his sickness. He thought it was possibly two weeks now since he'd been 'awake' or at least able to react and respond consciously to his surroundings, all thanks to Sarah and her skilful nursing efforts. Although he was making remarkable progress he was still felt weak, physical exertion quickly sapped his energy, so helping-out or going upstairs would probably be another week away as yet. Aside from being just a few pounds over his ideal weight at the start of the crisis, he'd been in good health, and physically fit though a daily regime of walking and regular exercises. Perhaps those had been contributory factors that had enabled his body to fight the virus until Sarah had arrived.

The main environmental controls regulating the temperature in various parts of the house were based in the kitchen on the ground floor, and though he could probably talk Sarah through the various menus in order to make adjustments, selfishly he rather enjoyed her current manner of dress, eagerly anticipating her selection of freshly donned T-shirt and panties after her morning shower. During the past few days on her emergence from the bathroom after her morning's ablutions she had given him a twirl, a 360 degree vision of loveliness, a boost to the start of his day.

Girls entering adolescence were like butterflies, eagerly fluttering their wings to ascertain whether they could gain anyone's attention. Sarah had his undivided attention even when she was fast asleep, wearing an adorable air of ripe innocence. He desperately wanted to explore her young body, to share the joys that would bring, but conversely he didn't want her to feel trapped if she wasn't ready to take that step...

She had been needlessly worried, he liked her morning displays, which had then lead to a discussion about clothing, then about fetishes, those things that weren't necessarily about the person as such, but about those things which some people thought enhanced the way somebody looked, increasing their appeal. Sarah supposed the discussion was about sex in a roundabout way, how Tom appreciated, perhaps preferred girls dressing their age rather than trying to assume the guise of an older girl that he said looked sluttishly unattractive.

She gained the idea that he might even like it if she dressed in something more commonly worn by a girl who was a little younger than herself.

Having collected a good deal from her own closet back home, she now raided a few likely addresses to increase her own wardrobe with items which Tom might like.

Although Tom found Sarah very appealing, he'd been mindful of her inexperience, plus the circumstances of their extraordinary situation. Even more-so than in former times he dare not risk doing anything that would forestall or ruin their burgeoning friendship, one which he hoped would become a meaningful relationship given time. Sarah was a pretty girl with blonde tresses worn long, having wonderfully expressive grey eyes that seemed to change colour according to the light. The delicate skin of her face was unblemished, although she did have a few faint moles elsewhere like her neck and collar bone, causing Tom to think about tracing her entire body with fingers and tongue joining together those little dots.

As he was wont to do of a night he leaned over to kiss her cheek wishing her goodnight, but she moved deliberately, their lips meeting, a soft childish kiss, through brief it caused his blood to flow south having the expected results. In the dimmed night-time lighting that was necessary to navigate in the semi-subterranean basement he noted her uncertain look, one of worry perhaps wondering if her move had been precocious or unwelcome.

Tom smiled broadly, kissing the tip of her cute nose, hugging her and drawing her closer to demonstrate his appreciation of this step forwards, no words being required.

Waking as dawn light spilled through the high windows he watched his sleeping beauty, only refraining from kissing her awake from the thought of 'dragon breath' though unable to escape because she was half sprawled across his body. When at last she roused he did lay a kiss on her forehead, apologising he might have morning breath, she usually got first dibs on the bathroom in the mornings, originally because he'd been so weak and sluggish, but now through courtesy.

Laying there his thoughts imagined her just the other side of that wide doorway into the wet-room, standing brushing her teeth, sitting to use the commode, a morning spurt of pee splashing into the bowl, then using the shower, hands through the suds running down her soft perfect skin. The woody from the night before returned with a vengeance, though for now loathe to do anything about it, knowing she would soon return, these thoughts and his physical reactions taken as a sign indicating his improving health.

Appearing refreshed from the bathroom, rather than her ubiquitous T-shirts, she now wore a short spaghetti-strap top revealing her upper chest plus a tempting area of skin between it's lower edge and her full-cut girlish panties. Previous tops had partially concealed those delights, though that hadn't prevented him from frequently watching the gusset of those cute garments, thinking about the treasures within, regardless of whether or not she was sporting a camel toe. Again she did her morning twirl as if a catwalk model, Tom indicating his approval with a wolf whistle and a short round of applause praising her clothing choice.

He'd been honest with her about his predilections, hebephiles being just another colour on the rainbow spectrum of sexual orientations, something he had no more control over than those once persecuted groups of people with gay or lesbian inclinations.

Despite these revelations which occurred in conversations during his convalescence Sarah hadn't been appalled, instead this had stimulated her natural curiosity about growing-up, and those increasing urges present within her own mind and body.

Getting up carefully he went to perform his own morning ablutions, collecting some fresh

clothing before heading into the bathroom himself, aware Sarah had seen the evidence of his appreciation of her morning display. When she was ready to ask questions, then he'd be happy to explain the automatic reaction that was caused by her captivating presence.

The shower area included a seat for which he was grateful, reducing the chance of slips or falls, as he revelled in his refreshing morning ritual. It wasn't merely his physical weakness

which had caused him to be hesitant regarding young Sarah, but his moral scruples about the willingness of any potential partner. Now he was beginning to see positive indications that her innate curiosity was overcoming any inbuilt societal misconceptions regarding the limits placed on intimate relationships with younger participants.

Sarah knew she hadn't been as knowledgeable on sex stuff as some of her older friends, it wasn't that she didn't know the basics, but until relatively recently it hadn't really held that much interest. She supposed with her growing-up, and those experiments with Charlotte that she'd awakened something inside, a more adult way of enjoying herself, discovering those secrets that youngsters weren't supposed to know about.

She'd been told the 'facts of life' but in a clinical detached manner, something that would happen when she fell in love when she was older. Her mum had also included all the yucky menstruation stuff, pointing out the tampons and panty-liners in the bathroom cupboard, she had even seen the string poking out of her mum's panties on a few occasions, as they hadn't been as uptight about walking around half dressed like some of her friends said it was in their homes.

She had always thought most adults were confusing, often promoting one thing, but they behaved differently from those views which they spouted that were so important, at least Tom was honest. He'd spoken openly about his own views; that previously he'd had to live in the shadows, fearing discovery of his underlying sexuality would cause persecution and long term imprisonment, regardless of the fact his relationships had always been with the consent of a younger partner. She could understand it was silly about the law saying that you couldn't do sex below a stated age, while the natural biology, all the hormone stuff all kicked-in many years beforehand. It was like making laws kids couldn't have candies until they reached an age they no longer wanted candies, lots of things hadn't made sense.

She had noticed his boxers shorts when he rose from the bed, with his stiff penis pushing

against the fabric. Penis was the correct medical term, that was the soft floppy sausage she'd first seen when cleaning her patient during the earlier stages of his illness, now she supposed it would be more fitting to use the adult term of cock. Cock or dick, plus loads of other words were used by adults, though pussy was the most frequently used term for her own special place.

A cock of course had to be stiff and hard to do sex, it wouldn't go in if it were all floppy as it was when a man wasn't thinking about sexual intercourse. That was another of those sex-ed terms, one not used by the older sisters of her friends 'making love' was perhaps the politest reference to sex, but the word fuck or fucking seemed so crude and rude.

They had talked a lot during his recovery, and Tom hadn't been shy about his interests as evidenced from his discussion of the controversial artists or photographers whose pictures decorated his usual bedroom upstairs. Previously he would've been labelled as a pervert, but she had learned now that a wide range of 'perversions' existed, some of these being more openly acceptable than others. Her thoughts kept returning to his erection, was that because of her, an acknowledgement of his attraction to her, or was it the other thing he had talked about, the fact it was a wayward organ that would become stiff at odd times, and quite often first thing in the morning.

Anyway she hadn't seen evidence of it's expanded state earlier during his convalescence, so could it be a further indication that he was getting better?

While his young companion and nurse had been ruminating about the state of his erection Tom had been thinking about where he would like to place his cock, though he refrained from stroking one out in the shower, he just couldn't summon up the effort right now. Besides he thought it unlikely he could easily clean away the evidence, not wanting to rely solely upon the shower spray itself. The unexpected lassitude induced by the virus must've been a contributory factor as why so many people were overwhelmed by the contagion, so Sarah's intervention had been his own personal miracle.

The multiple grab-rails plus the addition of a plastic garden chair in the drying area of the wet-room made towelling himself then dressing a feasible exercise. The reasons why the original architect had thought to design a disabled friendly semi-basement with an outside access via a ramp into the back yard had never entered into his thoughts when buying the house, it was just in a suitable backwater location at a reasonable price. Now he was very glad of those features which were also making themselves useful in his weakened state.

Standing perhaps a little too quickly he was suddenly dizzy, again glad of the grab rails, as if he needed another reminder that he still had a way to go before his former fitness level could be regained. In the unlikely event that he'd recovered by himself he imagined that his chances of survival without someone to help would've been fairly minimal, making him aware of just how much he relied on Sarah.

Over the following few days, aside from his health taking a decided upturn he noticed that Sarah had become more flirty. While he couldn't say if she'd previously been a very tactile person, he no longer required the same level of nursing care, but nevertheless she always seemed on hand to assist. Better still was the rising level of personal intimacy, with kissing becoming a frequent and sometimes prolonged activity.

Sarah's only previous experience of 'proper' kissing had been with Charlotte, though being just a couple of years older it was the blind leading the blind in a way, whereas Tom didn't only kiss her mouth, but her face, neck and ears, which surprisingly caused a lot of excitement and bought her out in goosebumps, not to mention what happened elsewhere in her body. These feelings were more heightened compared to those girlish experiments, causing her to feel hot and faint, and well just so... she didn't really have the words to describe this vast rush of new emotions.

She couldn't decide if she would've found the tongue thing daring or gross beforehand but she merely went with the flow, a willing pupil carried away with the situation.

Never having stayed in hospital Tom had no reference point, but he was fairly certain that nurses didn't generally provide such marvellous forms of recuperative therapy for patients. He was letting Sarah set the agenda, which for the moment involved plenty of make-out sessions. During those times she wore a brief spaghetti-strap top he would wander to kiss the extra available skin on her shoulders and upper chest, moves that seemed well within her comfort zone. Aside from her cute bubble-butt he'd limited his explorations with his hands until she began to encourage further moves on his part, their closely writhing limbs having made her aware of the effect on his stiffened manhood.

During a pause for breath he asked if he could kiss her exposed tummy, this caused her to wriggle, gasp, and at times giggle, though remaining comfortable she didn't object to the line of kisses placed all around the waistband of her little cotton briefs, eagerly turning as he urged her to present new areas of skin for him to worship. Being that much nearer to her girlhood he became aware himself that she wasn't unaffected by their activities, very pleased to detect a note of feminine essence.

With due reverence he kissed, nibbled and licked this newly available playground much to the delight of his new playmate, hopefully soon to be his new paramour.

She was fairly giddy from that last encounter, her head spinning, and a little embarrassed to find a damp spot soaked through her undies, conflicted about stopping, though she had to prepare an evening meal. The main kitchen on the floor above was better equipped so that had been her excuse to take a break, giving herself time to think about developments in their relationship. She supposed relationship was the correct term, after all they were certainly making-out like boyfriend and girlfriend. Ignoring the fact the world as they knew it had turned upside-down, she hadn't realised before why 'dating stuff' as displayed in the movies and TV shows had caused so much turmoil. It was confusing, like having her mind and body completely take control without any input from her own thoughts.

For a while she could cool-down as she concentrated on cooking without setting the house on fire, though mostly she was just heating canned food. It was important to ensure that her patient (boyfriend) had something nourishing that would continue to aid his recovery. Boyfriend wasn't something she had thought about, not in a serious way, boyfriends in her peer group usually meant boys who were friends, maybe a peck on the cheek if you were close, but not hot and heavy make-out sessions where you became... Horny that was the word she'd heard used by older girls, now she had some concept of what that meant!

Now his hot and bothered nymph had left Tom surveyed the games-room where he'd been ensconced for the last several weeks, for too much of that time barely able to function as the virus had dragged him closer towards an inevitable death. A home bar, pool table, and the monster TV home cinema installation together with a host of boy-toys which hadn't really swayed his purchase decision. The furniture was cleverly arranged to occupy spaces between support columns for the floors above the central area, with store rooms off to one side, and the wet-room, plus heat exchanger utilities taking up the remaining space.

His sleeping pallet occupied a floor space near to the wet-room, while a basic kitchenette as an adjunct to the bar had sink, fridge, and microwave where he'd at first made himself snacks before becoming too ill to care for himself. Hopefully soon he would venture out beyond this space to utilise his house properly, no longer being overly sensitive to bright lighting, he'd also see later-on what they could scrounge-up from the local neighbourhood.

Sarah was at the forefront of his thoughts, almost ten, and by the conventions of a society which until it's recent disappearance, ruled that she was merely a girl-child, barely past the halfway point age-wise towards making any lawful decisions regarding her own body when it came to sexual matters. Even pushing aside his own hebephilic predilections, it was plainly obvious from a physiological, psychological and anthropological standpoint that the former legal attitudes were untenable from any true logical reasoning.

The mind and body dictated when somebody felt ready to engage in sexual activities, thus legislation was sadly a crude method of interference with natural imperatives, unless those people concerned were cognitively unable to form sound decisions for themselves, thereby they could be taken advantage of by those lacking any moral standards. Tom had always been sickened by those preying upon such easy victims, distancing himself from that awful type of predator, in that he was always more attracted to bright intelligent girls well able to make such important decisions through balancing both logic and emotions.

On the floor above Sarah was doing just that, and while she didn't feel ready about being too adventurous, she still wanted to learn more, to perhaps discover the workings of what guys had in their shorts. To wash and touch someone as a semi-conscious patient was far different from that of any proper sexual exploration, as if underlining that idea she'd found out stuff regarding her own body through her times spent with Charlotte. What she knew about guys theoretically fell woefully short of any practical experience on a personal level, not even having played 'doctors and nurses' when she was younger to fill those gaps.

It was a relief that Tom was now rapidly improving, she could imagine he would soon be taking charge, revealing more secrets of his amazing sustainable house, making plans for how they would survive into the future without... well without the outside world providing all the stuff they'd relied upon in the past.

When the pandemic took hold life had been full of fear and confusion, everything tumbling out of control, getting worse from day to day. Finding Tom had in a way given her purpose something to focus upon besides her own troubles, they really had saved one another.

Tom relished their fairly simple meal, grilled tinned frankfurters with baked-beans, those beans having the addition of some age hardened cheese which might otherwise have gone to waste, but melted into the beans made a delightful sticky and tasty mess. Of course the two of them had grown closer than could otherwise have occurred with Tom's past having come to light, and from their frank discussions it seemed they could talk about anything.

When he mentioned the meal could only be improved by eating a serving of cherry-pie for dessert, Sarah went to make some reply, probably about the lack of sweet options, when she noticed his comedic lustful expression, having become accustomed to his silly jokes. Suddenly her face flushed red having worked out the alternate meaning, now knowing what a girl's cherry represented. It was only through Charlotte, and hanging around with some of the older girl's that she'd overheard conversations that had seemed so incredible, like sucking on a guy's weiner, and they in turn licking a girl's pussy. But from what she'd heard it seemed boys weren't as keen to return the favour, Tom confirming that reluctance among some guys was both selfish and unfair, while stating that he himself really enjoyed bringing his lovers oral pleasure.

One of the most endearing traits Tom had discovered to be common among his younger lovers was their innate curiosity, turning those expressions of surprised disbelief into gasps of joyous delight whenever he introduced them to further intimate activities.

Aside from the issue that some vulnerable youngsters might need legal protection, he'd never been able figure out how the laws ever became so restrictive, when many of the original worthy arguments for a raised age of consent were no longer valid with multiple reliable options of contraception available that were suitable for newly fertile adolescents.

While he'd frequently appreciated the dazzling sensuality and beauty of girls younger than Sarah, he maybe would've liked to caress them, but he'd never been tempted to engage in anything further. He was aware that 'true' paedophiles having a lower age of interest than himself did eventually achieve penetrative sex, but with sufficient stimulation girls younger than Sarah were physically capable of lubricating naturally when adequately prepared by someone who really cared for their welfare.

The girls of most interest to hebephiles of the MAP community, anthropologically and from an historical perspective would've been sexually active throughout much of mankind's past even though that was glossed over in recent times. The facts remained they were still of a mindset to be flirtatious towards males, and older males in particular, together with the issue that this behaviour manifested itself even before they were capable of having babies, though historically this did create stable pair bonds well in advance of that eventuality.

Tom or others of his ilk didn't need these rationalisations, the history, biology, and the science were indisputable, whilest the changes wrought in the society they'd lived in until fairly recently overturned those truths with its own crazy notions of civilisation with little regard to humans underlying nature.

All other truths put to one side, he'd really come to care for his young nurse, certainly he'd noticed her beforehand as one of the prettier nymphets who graced their neighbourhood, though fortunately he had maintained a fairly solitary existence since arriving, hence when he was later ostracised it hadn't made a great deal of difference. Now he'd come to really appreciate many facets of his lithe young companion, her nursing skills, her personality, her wit and intelligence, plus her physical presence, her delightful femininity.

While nothing happened that evening other than the kissing and cuddling which had now become a regular aspect of their relationship, he could imagine Sarah was thinking about those additional activities which occurred between boyfriends and girlfriends. Tom wasn't in any hurry, the decisions were hers to make, though he was confident of the outcome, and his steadily returning health would prove important towards every aspect of their lives together in the future.

Less than a week later they celebrated a new milestone when he ascended the stairs, thus gaining access to the other floors of his abode, having a literal window across the nearby area, seeing the empty street scene, like some abandoned movie set devoid of actors. These actors hadn't 'gone home' they'd left the set forever, Tom somehow wondering why he didn't feel for this great loss, maybe because of his separateness from the mainstream.

He could've probably staggered or crawled up the stairs some time ago, though by now he felt steady on his feet being that much stronger, ready to face the challenges ahead with firm resolve. He wasn't going to be running between all three floors all day, but living on the ground floor and sleeping in his former upstairs bedroom was no longer an obstacle.

It was while showing Sarah the computer controlled environmental commands for the house that he saw the current date on the screen, in all twelve weeks had elapsed since the virus first arrived, for over a fortnight of that period he'd been in limbo hidden in the basement. Without Sarah his body would be down there now decomposing, impulsively he grabbed the girl kissing the top of her head, tears in his eyes thanking her over and over.

Later they took a brief walk, the air fresher than he could recall, the birds and local fauna louder, more visible, as if saying it's our world now. Looking down Tom discovered he was holding her hand, what untoward comments that would've caused in the past, though they had to move beyond that mindset, things were now so different.

Sarah did most of the moving-in, commandeering a section of the built-in wardrobe, and having cleared a few of his drawers for her own clothing. It displayed their togetherness, perhaps an air of ownership, in that there were two other unused furnished bedrooms on the same floor which she ignored, showing her own preference to remain his night-time companion. Tom hadn't considered this would also signal the beginning of an escalation in their sensual activities, though of course his usual bed was far more comfortable than the blow-up mattress of his temporary basement refuge needed during his illness.

His en-suite bathroom had a Jack and Jill dual basin vanity top backed by an enormous mirror, a toilet and bidet combination, a walk-in wet-room style shower, plus a jacuzzi type tub built for sharing.

Sarah was still full of questions, she hadn't really discovered answers about the mysterious workings of Tom's cock, though on the other hand she hadn't actually asked him directly about it. From some of the stuff they'd discussed he would likely explain, the other thing on her mind was that he hadn't pushed to see her naked, or groped her in ways the older girls sometimes complained about, saying some boys could be rough and very insistent.

Did it make her a bad girl, a slut as she desperately wanted to do more than just kissing?

Because everybody else was gone, there was nobody other than Tom who could answer her questions. She could tell he cared for her, loved her; yes he did love her, and she felt the same way. Maybe that's why he hadn't been pushy like the boyfriends those older girls spoke about. Her mum had said growing-up was full of confusion, in a different world that hadn't changed, she felt so unsure of herself.

Since all the kissing started she'd get so wet, at times it was embarrassing, the stains on her worn panties were becoming more noticeable. Her mum said the wetness was normal, and would increase as she got older, a defence against germs, and a necessity when she became a grown woman. Sarah now realised her mum had been referring to sex!

At first she hadn't been sure, but after carefully arranging her dirty panties in the wash basket in the basement bathroom, she knew Tom had moved them when she later went to collect their laundry. She thought them damp and smelly, but it hadn't been just once, he seemed interested in the way she smelled down there. He did actually say he enjoyed licking a girl's pussy, so maybe it wasn't something that only ever happened in porn stuff.

Would he really like to lick her little pussy, it wasn't all full and puffy like she'd seen with older girls or women, and that's where she peed!

Tom didn't believe he was unlike other men, simply a majority of men mostly suppressed any outward expression of interest or desire for younger girls that were termed as jail-bait. Because he'd never denied his inner feelings, he had frequently studied the behaviour of youngsters within his 'age-of-appreciation' even if that usually involved some respectable distance in an effort to avoid public scrutiny. He couldn't imagine anyone could ever really understand the mind of a young girl, as women themselves were said to be impossible for any man to fathom-out. From research and observation he'd determined they were much more mature than their male peers, but suffered greater insecurities in their own journey into adolescence.

His recovery combined with their move upstairs was a landmark moment, so he imagined Sarah would be anxious as to how it affected the dynamic between them, maybe thinking he was no longer her patient, wondering how their relationship would alter. He wasn't that sure himself, although he wanted to discover her feelings, thus settle any questions before the day was through, not wishing her to feel pressured or uncomfortable.

Actually it went better than he'd expected, although halting at times, his suspicions were on the money, learning of Sarah's increasingly unsatisfied curiosity with regard to the male anatomy from a practical perspective, together with her tentative willingness to explore a little further than kissing, but having reservations about moving forwards too rapidly.

Tom was delighted they'd cleared the air, previously most of their talk had been regarding his own sexuality, and sexual relations from a purely academic standpoint, filling-in those gaps in her own knowledge, and discussing hypothetical situations, or the coverage of any sexual topics by the media. The relief and reassurance went both ways in that there would be less likelihood of misunderstandings, Sarah was willing to expand her sexual horizons, abet slowly, and Tom was equally pleased to fulfill that role as her mentor.

Sarah was so pleased he understood, there had been a little awkwardness, though now it had mostly passed, Tom having assured her those questions or insecurities were perfectly normal, every burgeoning adolescent faced the same anxieties, explaining boys also went through similar stages, though these occurred when they were a little older than Sarah.

This sort of confirmed her own thoughts about boys immature behaviour, highlighting the point it was advantageous for a girl to have someone older as a guide about sex stuff. They'd been staying up later as Tom recovered, partly because he'd been getting stronger, and in part so he could regain and improve his physical condition. Strangely it was she that boldly suggested they retire early that evening, just shortly after they'd eaten, eager to explore while their conversation was still fresh, and before she lost her nerve.

Tom avoided the bed, taking a seat near the window having her sit on his lap while kissing and making-out, raising her adrenaline, and ramping-up her excitement so she'd be more amenable to his following suggestions. By the time she was squirming in his lap, she took to the idea of them showering together as a form of breaking the ice, an opportunity for exploring his body while he was now fully conscious, while learning about the mysteriously stiffened object that was poking against her bottom.

As she'd seen him naked before, even in his weakened and delirious state, he thought she would probably feel in more control having the opportunity to undress him first before he then returned the favour. Standing in bare feet meant only a T-shirt, shorts, and boxers till he was standing in all his rampant glory. He needed to bend forwards so she could remove the shirt being that much shorter, and he encouraged her to press with one hand against his erection before pulling down the waistband of his underwear, explaining it could hurt bending an erect cock downwards sharply.

In parody of her morning display he gave her a twirl, then suggested it was 'show and tell' time, saying she should become familiar with the male anatomy, both freely touching and asking any questions that occurred, while he would also provide whatever information he thought might be useful.

Her tentative touch and exploration was incredibly exciting, it having been more than a year since his last adventures with a young partner. With little knowledge other than some internet pictures at a friend's house, then changing the diapers of a few baby boys Sarah's education had been minimal until now. He explained why he had more skin, called foreskin which she hadn't seen on the babies, talking about the common practice of circumcision, and the belief this unnatural modification reduced the sensitivity of the head of a man's cock without the protection this loose skin normally provided. Having soap and hot clean water readily available, the argument for better hygiene, or historic religious practice were poor reasons for continuing this form of genital mutilation.

She weighed his balls, cupping a hand under his scrotum as her voyage of discovery went on learning more than her friends could've divulged from their own limited knowledge as they all had fairly restricted experience – perhaps the short sighted leading the blind!

While Tom would've happily allowed Sarah to endlessly play with his masculine equipment all evening she was running out of questions, and their tactile adventures were surely just beginning. To appear less overwhelming he sunk to his knees, hugging her before he began to relieve her of the two items she was wearing, a short top since she'd discovered how much he enjoyed smooching her tummy, and simple cotton cartoon decorated panties that hugged her pudendum, a patch of dampness now clearly apparent.

Although she allowed him to remove the top without demure, delightfully shy she quickly placed her hands over her exposed chest covering her nipples. Many girls on approaching adolescence became reticent to be seen topless, partially from a feeling of inadequacy in comparison to more developed friends, though also relating to the stupid modern political correctness which tended to place young females in a state of purdah. While from toddlers until the onset of puberty they had nothing to show, bikinis or one piece bathing costumes had become almost mandatory since the rise of stranger danger across western culture.

While skimpily clad nymphets were a joy to observe, it was a mistaken belief to assume that this unnecessary extra cloth would protect young girls from those predatory assailants which appalled Tom and fellow MAP adherents as much as any other right thinking adult.

The past had passed, and Tom cleared his head concentrating on the angel in his grasp, as he told her not to be ashamed of her body, regardless of her own feelings he found all of her beautiful. He explained her transition was a marvellous metamorphosis that should be a continuous form wonder they should both appreciate together, following her natural advancement into adolescence and beyond into womanhood.

Her hands dropped away, her anxious expression changing to a smile at his worship of her body, kissing her nipples and much of her chest with adoration. The change from little girl to young woman had only begun it's earliest phase, having been barely detectable under any form of covering, in her semi-naked state the nascent swelling below her nipples was now visible to anyone prepared to give those tenuous contours their utmost attention.

Tom had the feeling if Sarah were a cat she'd be purring, in between kissing her face and chest his hands moved downwards towards the frilly edged panties, looking into her eyes for permission to progress further, first slipping his fingers below the cloth feeling those smooth contours of her lovely bottom before temporarily retreating, his thumbs hooked under the waistband as he teased himself with the slow reveal as he edged the flimsy fabric downwards in a concerted effort to ensure they turned inside out as her amazing little flower came into view.

More like a coin-slot or keyhole, truly undeveloped, in effect looking like that of those girls he'd formerly considered too young, though it was undeniable her body was reacting well to all the sexual stimulus exuding her feminine oils in preparation of further developments.

Looking from her tight crease to the gusset in which it had nestled there were thin strands of her essence, the material having soaked-up copious evidence of increasing excitement.

Kneeling he settled down lower to admire this vision of perfection, the smooth raised pad of soft flesh bisected by a feminine crease of such juvenile proportions without a complex of folds, nor the slightest hint of golden down. Leaning in far closer he was assailed by the most compelling scent, having some vague similarity with those younger teenagers of his former acquaintance, earthy, musky, while having an overall sweetness for want of finding any better description.

Without conscious thought he was drawn forward, his hands cupping the cheeks of her bottom as his tongue began to map the junction of her thighs, licking her voraciously.

Knowing that Tom found her attractive, that he desired her was an amazing thought when she compared herself to all the pretty girls in the pictures which adorned the walls. It had been a revelation to see a grown man in the flesh, his cock and balls, so different than just seeing pictures. She remembered the gross ones with masses of pubic hair, her older friends saying it was called a bush, which was a good description, then those adults that did porn stuff all the time were often shaved totally bare, both the men and the girls.

On asking Tom about his very short pubic hair she discovered he preferred being what he called a 'smoothie' but it had grown-out during the time of his illness, and that he wanted to return to his 'normal' regime now he had access to his usual bathroom.

Although she hadn't yet reached her tenth birthday, it wasn't far away, having been very conscious that she didn't match-up to some of her more developed playmates in the boob department. Naturally she would be embarrassed about exposing her flat chest for Tom, but he'd been so kind and gentle, both his words and actions proving that he liked her just as she was. He said that following her gradual development through time would be a joy they could share together as she blossomed like some beautiful exotic flower.

Being touched by a man was different, it would be unfair to Charlotte's memory saying he was better, there were probably many reasons why it was a contrasting experience with him being a man, and because he'd had several lovers previously. She pulled him closer as he peppered her with kisses, this being so much more exciting skin to skin, almost naked. He didn't just grab or take like those tales of boyfriends told by the older girls, he looked at her with his dreamy eyes seeking permission, yes, she wanted him to undress her, take down her panties, let him see her special place, her pussy.

“Oh, so pretty.”

That was all he said, Sarah was already feeling all floaty from his kissing and licking her nipples, so his tongue between her legs made her wobble, she would've fallen over if he hadn't been holding her, as she regained her balance the panties fell to the floor allowing her to widen her stance, giving Tom room to continue taking her towards heaven.

Over the past few years Sarah had experienced those nice warm tingly feelings that came from playing with her kitty, it was only more recently when experimenting with Charlotte that she'd discovered they could lead to a wonderful crescendo. Sometimes it had taken a ages to reach an orgasm, though often when she'd played with herself she would just fall asleep from the warm glow caused by those lovely tingles that were still nevertheless very pleasing.

It was starting to happen!

For Tom it seemed so long ago since he'd last pleasured a girl, Sarah's high pitched voice urging him on, not that he required any encouragement, he derived so much enjoyment from listening to her sighs or squeals as she approached her peak. How could anyone say this was wrong, you took a girl you cared for on amusement park rides causing them joy and happiness, this was an alternate route to inducing pleasure of a more intimate nature.

He backed-off after her orgasm had peaked, not wishing her to become over sensitive from his loving ministrations, the pressure from her own hands confirming for now she'd had sufficient stimulation for the time being. Pressing his head against her torso to lend support he could hear her heart thudding rapidly in her chest, happy simply holding her closely as she slowly recovered.

Shortly after holding hands he lead her to the shower where they soon assisted each other

with the process of bathing, no cloths or sponges were necessary, much preferring instead to use their hands for spreading shower-gel over one-another. Tom found himself short of anything to say, merely revelling in the delightful activity of washing his young nymphet and personal nurse.

Sarah felt super pampered as Tom washed her all over, even squeaking as a soapy finger penetrated her bum hole to ensure she was properly cleaned, he seemed to be aware she wasn't supposed to get soap inside her pussy itself, though he spent an unduly long time ensuring any remaining girl-juices were cleaned away. From the enthusiasm with which he licked her pussy she couldn't imagine there were hardly any juices left anyway.

She felt like a princess as he gently washed her hair, making all her previous ablutions in the basement bathroom seem cursory by comparison. For a guy with short hair he seemed to be well practised at washing her long tresses, carefully rinsing out the shampoo before applying some wonderful smelling conditioner. She was certain that none of the older girls had ever had such a caring boyfriend who treated them so nicely.

Tom had no unrealistic expectations, quite content to let things develop in their own time, at a pace to suit Sarah. Her offering to take a turn washing him hadn't been unforeseen, proving her intense interest and fascination with his manly parts hadn't abated since their extended discussion on that topic. He quickly began to realise she wasn't merely cleaning his cock, but was now actively jerking him off, obviously not having performed this before.

While her naïve unpractised efforts were wonderful, he gave some helpful pointers which would prevent injury caused through her lack of experience. Although she'd washed him all over, even getting him back with a little digit probing his rectum, her main focus was reserved for his raging erection. Along with his gentle coaching and encouragement Tom told her what would happen, telling her the viscous fluid was perfectly harmless, besides the fact it did arrive in sudden rapid jets that could surprise the unwary, then to keep on pumping until the last spurt shot out from his cock.

Without voicing his silly thought aloud, he imagined all those little 'tadpoles' having turned into frogs during the time he was laid-up with the virus, knowing of course that was just his strange imagination. Having that thought he wondered if such prolonged abstinence might have caused his sperm to be objectionable if she'd been blowing him instead.

His mind didn't wander for long, warning Sarah of the imminent explosion, as several good spurts of cum issued from his knob, the first strong volleys splattering against her body as the remainder fell to the shower floor. Thankfully he was standing against the wall, at last gaining the wherewithal to praise Sarah for such an intense orgasm, very pleased that this created such a positive reaction from the young girl who was investigating the sticky webs of gloop between her fingers, and the spunk which had adhered to her wonderful body.

Tom supposed in part his attraction to young girls was witnessing their reaction to each of the novel discoveries they made in their journey of sexual awakening.

Sarah was so happy she couldn't put it into words, she and Tom had been growing closer day by day, though as she lay in bed snuggled to his side she wondered if she would ever fall asleep from having such an amazing day. Tom was firmly convinced they'd be partners, boyfriend and girlfriend or whatever, and nobody could say differently because, well simply because there was nobody around to object.

He was a great boyfriend, teacher, lover. It wasn't just the sex stuff, but that was really so much more fun than she'd ever imagined, there was so much he was willing to teach or to show her now he was feeling better.

Having her pussy licked was better than strawberry icecream, that was a silly comparison but she really wanted to have him teach her everything. When she played with herself it was called Jilling-off, and what she did for Tom was called a hand-job or Jacking-off, which had caused all his baby-juice to shoot-out, the semen; that held the tiny little sperms that could make a woman pregnant. She thought every day would be a learning experience as Tom taught her about new things...

Tom would happily lick his little nymphet morning, noon and night, while for now his little playmate happily jerked him off whenever he could spring a woody, as the days passed in a kind of blur she added some tongue action into the game, Tom praising each advance as she worked towards a full-blown blowjob at her own pace. Having made some changes in the house, they began looking around the neighbourhood collecting things from any of the houses that would otherwise be wasted.

Having seen her notebook regarding those few houses where dead bodies remained inside he set out one day alone in a disposable overall intent on wrapping the bodies in their own sheets, then in plastic tarpaulins for disposal otherwise the town would stink with the fetid odour of carrion once the weather got any warmer. It was a grim task which also required the disposal of a number of chairs or mattresses beside the existing makeshift burial site.

He stripped off the stained overall and the respirator placing them in a garbage can on his return home, entering via the slope into the basement, scrubbing himself thoroughly using the downstairs wet-room which they no longer required for their daily ablutions, nowadays their upstairs en-suite bathroom being their preferred playground.

They were beginning to make more structured plans with the nastiest chores taken care of considering themselves latter day pioneers settling an uninhabited territory being theirs alone to exploit as they saw fit. Sarah being quite the little home-maker, sharing her own ideas to add comfort and character to a house with two consecutive single male residents.

Tom was always more than willing to comply with her odd whims, hence that day was to be spent at her former home just a few hundred yards along the road. He imagined Sarah was now ready to sort through various private possessions that she wanted to move into their shared abode, something to give it a more personal touch, maybe with bitter-sweet memories of former times, or keepsakes to remind her of her mother Jennifer.

He'd never been inside her home before, and considering the rumours circulating prior to everyone falling sick, such an invite would've been unlikely. The single story two bedroom place was nicely furnished and decorated, having a decidedly feminine touch, though Tom noticed it wasn't musty like other properties, thereby indicating it was frequently aired-out, meaning his young partner probably visited on a regular basis when he was busy engaged with something else.

She showed him around, getting 'the grand tour' so to speak, the last stop on the itinerary being her own bedroom. It wasn't overwhelmingly pink, but otherwise it was charmingly the domain of a young girl desperately trying to grow-up, though as yet having a foot in both camps; that of a child, and that of a someone looking towards those interests of her somewhat older friends, wanting to emulate their lead.

Obviously she'd been unable to part from those dolls or cuddly animals of childhood, but they'd been relegated to areas of less prominence. He also noticed those posters featuring kittens or popular Disney films were being superseded by those of the latest boy-bands or other crazes that were the influence of her older teenaged friends. Although Sarah herself probably wouldn't notice, Tom revelled in the smell of her bedroom, infused with her own unique body scent though her long-time occupation.

Sarah wondered how she could be feeling so nervous, this having been her own choice, in that it seemed so fitting to happen in her own bedroom. While she debated once again on her decision about leaving the Disney Princess duvet set on her bed, she knew how Tom felt about her showing any tendency to dress or act beyond her actual age. He really had a thing, a fetish about her being a pre-teen, not wanting her to abandon all her childhood stuff completely which he thought of as exciting, maybe even provocative.

Her own bed looked so small and narrow in comparison to the large bed they now shared every night, oddly this would in a way fulfill a fantasy of her own, and she had no doubts that Tom would also approve of her selected venue. In all those romantic novels the young virgin was supposed to be dressed in pure white; she had a pink and white dress having a few buttons down the back, the yellow and white panties she knew he liked with the small cartoon puppies, plus her best trainers with short white socks.

Of course she knew of other common cultural stereotypes, but she was far too young to own a Prom-Dress. Loosing your virginity in the back of a car to an equally inexperienced spotty teenaged boy on Prom night seemed so tacky, just so wrong in so many ways when it could be so much better with someone who would think about you before themselves.

She hugged Tom fiercely.

“I'm ready. Undress me.”

There could be no mistaking her meaning, his mouth had to interfere, asking if she were sure, saying it was a big step to take, she nodded saying now was the time and place, in her own small bed with someone special who cared about her. Tom then corrected her last statement, saying he not only cared, but he loved her too.

Tom felt himself blessed, this was a rare and precious gift. It might be thought one virgin each would be average, though with Tom's predilection he'd been very fortunate to have sampled more than his fair share. Due to this anomaly of distribution he felt himself to be the ideal person to lead Sarah through her right of passage, knowing the importance of how this would probably affect her lifelong attitude towards sexual relations.

Painful and fumbled introductions, often hurried, and in unsuitable locations could hardly be deemed as great memories or emotional foundations with which to begin the formative stages of a girl's sexual journey. Was it perhaps selfish to want this experience to be one that Sarah treasured, wanting to frequently repeat something holding fond memories, and thus willing to be experimental and adventurous with their future lovemaking.

Without any forms of time constraint, and with Tom's regained vigour there was nothing to hold them back, having no reason to hurry either. Sitting on the corner of the bed he had his nymphet sit sideways on his lap, gently teasing her neck and cute ears with kisses and nibbles, occasionally causing delightful giggles to escape, though she also wanted to kiss him deeply as her ardour rose, those once childish tingles gaining greater significance now she knew where they culminated having gained the aid of an expert teacher.

While she'd kicked off her own footwear Tom wondered if she even knew he'd loosened all bar one of the buttons securing her dress, though with shoulder straps and sitting on his lap the bodice of the dress had yet to fall away. With the impatience of youth she wanted to proceed more quickly, though she was beginning to realise his slower build-up in their former intimate encounters made the results worth waiting for. She was keen to remove his T-shirt, though her own contorted manoeuvrings to achieve that caused her shoulder straps to fall down leaving them both semi-naked much to Sarah's delight.

He ran his fingers up and down the knobles of her spine as they traded tongues, as this comfortable position negated their height difference. Reaching her bottom he felt the thin elasticated waistband of her panties, a glance over her shoulder confirmed they were one of his favourite pairs, well worn, a little tight, the cotton fabric clinging to her contours. Another now obvious clue Sarah had preplanned this encounter was setting her hair into twin ponytails placed to either side. At one time having told her they were crudely called blowjob handlebars, she'd sometimes recently set her hair that way just prior to bedtime, though he could never recall her wearing it in that fashion during the daytime.

Tom had never before made love with a young girl in her own bed, in her own bedroom, as previously that would've been a foolish and very dangerous location for such activities when they might easily be discovered. In a fantasy come true he was carefully unwrapping a very special princess who far from feeling abused, had in effect been the instigator of this extraordinary event.

With her dress now discarded on the floor, Sarah had returned the favour in removing his own shorts, in her eagerness divesting him of his boxer shorts as well. Play fighting was a fairly common activity within their shared bedroom, though it proved more tricky on the narrow cot, Sarah in no way trying to escape his clutches as he worked his way down her now supine body. Reaching her waist he looked over her slender well defined form having neither excess fat, nor being too skinny, in a word perfection.

Her rapid breathing and flushed complexion were signs of her excitement, together with a growing damp patch below the cartoon puppies, Tom loving the dichotomy of that visual image. He soaked in the sight, thinking Sarah would likely be his last virgin, most probably his life partner. Looking at the waistband of those tiny panties it stretched from hip to hip like a suspension bridge, the two little gaps touching again on the slight rise of her tummy.

He was a lucky man leaning in to nuzzle at the junction of her spread thighs, breathing in her essence through the wet cloth, pushing his mouth and nose against the fabric wanting to immerse himself in her personal fragrance, nudging her pearl nestled below, teasing her and himself in those games she had come to anticipate during their intimate romps which had been leading towards this special moment.

Rather than remove the yellow and white cartoon panties he pulled the gusset aside so he could lick the evident moisture from her soft immature vulva, switching sides and sending her higher as he gently toyed with her little cleft. For this one-time event he wasn't in any hurry, though his young lover after a few rolling orgasms had other ideas, her legs coming up as she struggled to remove her own now soaked panties, desperately wanting him to do the final deed. Maintaining his position for a while he took one last look at her juvenile virgin pussy, the wet interior details as he sunk a finger into her depths, the almost white of some membranes in contrast to the crimson tissues swollen from the aroused glow of sexual readiness, the flex and ripple of her internal muscles indicating that physically her body was prepared for her deflowering.

Rising onto his hunches he slipped her thighs over his own to raise and open her wide for her deflowerment. While considering the cowgirl position an ideal posture for a virgin girl's introduction as it gave them control over the event, he also favoured this alternative when a girl was so well lubricated and so anxious to proceed.

He nudged the head of his rampant cock against her narrow cleft, he too had been leaking pre-cum for much of the time while he prepared Sarah for her 'maiden' voyage, though his former encounters had allowed him the fortitude and patience necessary when taking any girl through this special one-time event without trauma.

Gently settled in place he found the crown of his cock resting at the elastic circle guarding the entrance to her core, having determined during the past few weeks of their growing relationship that any vestige of hymen had long since vanished through play or accident.

Running his hands from her hips to her nascent almost unnoticeable breast buds creating a soothing massage he looked into her eyes, nothing was said, but she nodded wanting him to press forwards, urging their connection.

If pressed Sarah could not have described her emotional state, Tom just always seemed to read her body knowing what to do next, making each time better than the last, so wanting to 'do it' had been an easier decision than she'd imagined. Being upon her very own bed in her own childhood bedroom was the right place, noting Tom's reactions it was a very good decision because it made him happy, and he showed that with the care he took to ensure she was really ready for her first time.

She hadn't heard that many stories relating to a girl loosing her virginity, well not many she believed were true anyway. During the previous year she had progressed from a thin toothbrush handle to a fat Sharpie marker pen which was just a bit thicker than her own slim fingers when playing with herself, but Tom's cock was a considerable jump upwards, even though he'd mentioned his cock was a fairly average size – not porn-star dimensions.

He was funny they could laugh about things together, they certainly needed to laugh these days otherwise she would be overcome by thoughts of the past. He also taught her stuff that was important, making many tasks throughout the day life lessons, even their special times had contained information she hadn't picked-up elsewhere, the secrets adult hadn't wanted her to know, always saying she was too young.

He paused even at the last moment checking it was what she really wanted, some spotty teenage boy would've just carried on regardless even if she'd chickened-out, whereas Tom loved her, certain he would've waited if she changed her mind – she nodded.

It felt huge, like someone had their arm inside, but he was pushing gently, then easing off as she watched what was happening between her spread thighs, a sort of squishy sound with them both being wet from their foreplay. She had learned so many terms for the sex stuff people did, she almost laughed thinking this was the 'practical' exam leading towards the next stage of her sexual education.

He wasn't inside yet, he was just slowly moving back and forth, and she could feel herself reacting beginning to open-up, the heat of their meeting place, the head of his cock was sort of kissing her pussy, sort of asking nicely, like when they kissed with tongues sliding over one another, oops something happened!

It didn't hurt, she felt stretched, not so much ouch, sort of, but not really, kind of stuffed, then again she could see for herself it was only partly inside her.

Tom was relieved, for a while it had been touch and go, unsure if she was really ready, so damn tight, absolutely the best ever, though he was backing off, spreading all the natural lubrication with each movement, giving her the chance to say something, anything, but she lay there, at first a strange expression on her beautiful face, though he could see the trust, at least she wasn't hurting.

The bunch of orgasms she'd experience beforehand had certainly flexed those muscles of her untried channel, proof enough that youngsters could enjoy a much wider sexual range of activities besides lone masturbation. Probably those staid lawmakers of the past were stupid asexual beings who didn't have the wit or imagination to think indulging in foreplay could make sex equally enjoyable to anybody with little regard to their actual age.

She broke out into a smile warming his heart, her hands reaching out to grasp his, urging him on, trying to push back, wanting to be filled.

He loved her enthusiasm, worried she might get too vigorous, voicing his concern, urging her to take it slowly, not get carried away. In part he wanted to savour their first time as he didn't wish to loose control himself. Although it was unlikely during this first journey for her to orgasm, he nevertheless wanted it to be memorable for all the right reasons, just from it being a pleasant, warm, personal experience.

He savoured her tight pussy sliding in and out of her hot sleeve, his hands now free again to roam her sylphlike slenderness, smooth glowing skin, hot and damp from their age old dance. What a lucky man he was, to have survived, then to have such peerless care from his own perfect little nurse, if he was dead then this was his own version of heaven.

Her marvellously tight pussy was stretching out allowing him deeper access as they moved together, Sarah learning to respond in harmony. At last he bumped into her cervix careful not to exert any force against it lest he cause her discomfort, limiting his strokes, using his thumb to stimulate her clit, the hood was now fully retracted, coming out to play when otherwise not rubbing against his rampant cock on the inward movements.

After carefully pacing himself against both the physical and emotional context of the event he was gaining a second wind, revelling in the thought this was merely the first of many times he would make love with this darling angel. Her loving expression and all those cute sounds she made as her excitement rose were music to his senses, effectively increasing his own enjoyment, knowing Sarah was happy meant everything to him.

With a suddenness that caught him unexpectedly she spasmed, her limbs jerking as inside her pussy rippled, the pressure on his cock being magical causing him to loose control as his balls let rip, the counter pressure almost making his release painful, interrupted from her own muscular contractions. He couldn't recall anything to compare as it seemed to go on further, longer than any previous occasion, an orgasm he would truly remember.

They lay there afterwards snuggled tightly together smiling, sharing kisses, just sharing as they held one another, both content, both happy.

“Tom?”

“Yes honey”

“You know about my past; it being just mum and me right?”

“Yes my love, now it's just you and me... you and me forever.”

“From now on when we make love, would you mind if I called you Daddy?”

His life had now become so worth living....

The end?