My wife has worked for DCS (Department of Children's Services) in New Mexico for over 30 years. She's been the head of her department for almost half that time. Because she's the top banana there she can pretty much do what she wants. What that means is that "special" children end up staying at our house. Usually children who have a problem or have been abused in some way. My wife wants to keep a close eye on them and give them a lot of tender loving care if needed.
I've always taken this rather strange lifestyle in stride. I was a Cement Truck Driver for over 30 years and wasn't home but in the evenings. But after I retired at 55 - with full benefits - things started to change around the house. For one thing I had to take a more active role in caring for my wife's little waifs.
This story is actually about one of those children who stayed with us for a couple of months last year. Her name was Celesta and she was an American Indian from one of the local reservations that border many New Mexico towns around the state.
She came to stay with us in June; apparently both of her parents were drug addicts and her mother beat her and her father molested her. Sheech... some people shouldn't have kids.
The first time I saw Celesta I was struck by her looks. She was a pretty little thing who couldn't have been more than 12 years old, or so I thought. As it turned out she was really 15 and she was full of vinegar and piss as I was soon to find out.
Even though she was a pretty girl I realized right from the beginning that she was strange. She didn't seem to know how to act in a civilized home. I'd be walking down the hall and pass by the bathroom only to see her sitting on the commode taking a dump with the door wide open. Or she'd sleep in the nude and think nothing of coming out into the kitchen in the morning to get a drink of water totally naked while my wife and I were eating breakfast.
This little Indian girl was starting to get on my nerves. In more ways than one.
One of the facts about getting older is that one's sex life begins to deteriorate. My wife started experiencing pain when we had intercourse shortly after she hit menopause. So for the past 7 years my sex life - other than what I did solo - was pretty much nonexistent.
Then comes little Celesta and her nubile young body. I didn't want to stare at her, nor did I want to fantasize about fucking her teenage brains out, but after all, I was still a healthy male, and I had no outlet for my normal lust.
That's the only excuse I can offer for what happened next.
It was about 8 pm on a Thursday night and my wife had to work late, which happened usually at least once a week. I fixed dinner for Celesta and myself and after washing up we were sitting in the basement family room with the air conditioner turned up full blast watching Ally McBeal on the boob-tub.
I had a habit of running the air conditioner really cold during the summer months and sitting on the couch with a blanket over my lap. I think I did that because of all the years I'd driven a truck and having been hot all day long, I enjoyed the luxury of being cold on my own time.
Whatever the reason for this, it usually made it uncomfortable for everyone else since they dressed for the hot weather. That night instead of getting her own blanket Celesta moved over next to me and pulled the end of my blanket over to cover her bare legs.
We'd been getting along pretty well for that past several weeks so I let the kid cuddle up to me for warmth. Besides she'd been starved for affection so I wasn't going to push her away.
I guess another sign of age is that one tends to fall asleep in front of the TV. I remember waking up to my wife's cheery greeting and a warm little hand massaging my stiff cock all at the same moment. I was a little groggy and didn't quite know what was going on; then suddenly I was wide-awake.
My wife was sitting in the easy chair across from us and talking to Celesta about her day at the office. The blanket was still covering both our bodies and that hand was still playing with my straining dong. I looked over at Celesta and she smiled happily back at me then asked my wife a question about her day as if nothing untoward was going on.
I didn't know what to do; here I was being masturbated by a child with my wife sitting only a few feet away, totally oblivious to what was going on. I knew that I should have jumped up then and there and stopped Celesta. But two things stopped me from doing that.
First what would it look like when I jumped out from under cover with a big old woody poking through the fly of my pants, how would I be able to explain that I was a totally innocent bystander.
And the second reason was that I was about to cum! I hadn't "relieved" myself in almost a week and I guess while I was sleeping the girl's handiwork had brought my body along without my conscious knowledge. It was all I could do not to cum at that very moment while my wife was talking gaily about things I couldn't even understand. I was only aware of that teenager's hand pulling on my dong; bring me closer and closer to disaster. It felt wonderfully nasty.
Then it was too late. I was cumming in big gushes and my face must have turned beet read, at least it felt hot and I felt this intense guilt, while at the same time my orgasm was one of the most intense of my life.
Thank god my wife was so into her story that she didn't notice my reaction. I couldn't believe that she hadn't noticed what was going on right in front of her. We'd been through so much together; there was a time when she would have known just by looking into my eyes.
But that night I sat there with Celesta smearing my slime all over my cock and balls with her little brown fingers, continuing to massage me into another arousal and me totally unable to do anything about it unless I wanted to tip my wife off to this terrible thing that was happening.
Looking back at that night (which I've done often) I have to admit that it was quite pleasurable. I'd never really fantasized about a pretty young teenage girl jacking me off before, but I have plenty of times since. What can I say, I'm only human.
I took an impromptu fishing trip the next day for a week down by El Morro. I can't believe that my wife suggested that I take Celesta with me, which I didn't do. When I got back from the trip I made sure that I stayed as far away from the little Indian girl as I could. And although we never discussed that night, I think she knew that I was disturbed by what had happened, by what she'd done.
A month later my wife found Celesta a foster home and she was gone. I often wondered what happened at her new home. I heard that they had two teenage boys of their own.
I've wondered and fantasized about that a lot over the past year.
Author's note: If this story sounds familiar it is because I wrote it sometime ago under a different author handle. I have revisited the story a bit, fleshed it out and republished it here. AB