As the board meeting broke up, directors mingled and chatted informally with each other, reviewing some of the progress made since the last quarterly meeting and lobbying for their own private initiatives. In the well appointed room a long mahogany meeting table reflected shards of bright sunlight off its high gloss finish, comfortable black leather chairs haphazardly arranged around it, some tight to the table and others pulled out part way. A young man stood to one side observing the board members. He had a slight frown on his face and apprehension in his eyes. Richard was the General Manager of the foundation and he had a problem.
It had started with one mother. She'd called him four weeks ago.
"Mr. Lastman, I'm calling you for my daughter. Amy's twelve and battling cancer. She's such a good girl." The lady had paused. He heard a soft sob and a deep breath. "I know the Sunshine Foundation tries to grant kids' wishes. And, you see, Amy, well. . . Um. . . Well Amy has a wish. She. . . She wants to experience making love and. . . I just don't know how. . ." He heard another soft sob. "And well, I thought you might. . ."
"Excuse me," Richard interrupted, "could I get your name?"
"Oh, sorry. I'm Mrs Desland, Peggy."
"Mrs. Desland, let me say you have my heartfelt sympathy for what Amy's going through and if there was any way we could help. . ."
Peggy interrupted "Please don't tell me you can't help, please. It's all she wants and I can't not. . . I can't not give it to her. Please!"
Her call hadn't been the first. Richard had received three more calls since, all with essentially the same request. Mothers, all embarrassed, all wrestling with the social stigma of giving their child something they knew was wrong, yet driven to act for love of their child. At first he'd dismissed them with gentle words of care and empathy. The mothers were asking for something that simply was beyond the foundation's purview. But, even though he had no children of his own, he sympathized with both the mothers and the kids. He couldn't imagine going through life without having made love once, not having experienced the pure joy of it with someone who cared; experienced one of the most beautiful acts of life.
Richard had dwelled on it, wrestled with it, and ultimately decided to seek some advice from James Reardon, the one member of the board he trusted the most.
Waiting for his moment, he tapped James on the shoulder. "When you have a moment, James, could I have a word in private?" he asked the tall, patrician looking board member.
"Of course, Richard," James replied immediately in a deep voice, his kind eyes inspecting Richard. Turning to another board member he excused himself and followed Richard out of the boardroom.
Sitting in the General Manager's office, Richard explained the situation, the recent spate of requests that were so unusual. He explained his dilemma, recognizing it was beyond what the foundation could do, but how he felt saddened when they couldn't help.
"Richard, I understand why you feel that way. Honestly I do. But the simple fact of the matter is that, not only is it beyond the foundation's mandate, it is also illegal. You know that."
"James, I understand those points. I knew that even when I received the first phone call. But I wanted to talk to someone I trust about it. It just seems wrong to me. Not the foundation's stance per se, but for a girl, or boy for that matter, to not have the opportunity to experience physical love in their lifetime. It just seems wrong. . . doesn't it?"
"I know what you mean. It doesn't sit well. Let me think about it. I doubt there's anything we can do, but it deserves to be thought through, don't you think?"
Richard noticed the twinkle in James blue eyes. They seemed to fit his full head of pure white hair, white goatee, and the wrinkles of wisdom on his face.
The insistent ringing of the telephone drew him away from reviewing fiscal budget spreadsheets on his monitor, his eyes red and gritty. Funding was tight yet again, even more so since the financial trouble started two years ago. He wondered if there was ever going to be an end to it. They'd have to reduce activities by six percent, either through helping fewer children or finding more cost effective ways of granting the children's wishes. Perhaps they should appeal again to some Hollywood celebrities, those with young children.
"Richard Lastman," he said answering the phone, his mind still assessing options.
"Richard, it's James. Listen, I know it's short notice, but do you think you could come out to my place for dinner tonight?" James Reardon asked in his deep voice.
"Of course. What time?"
"Be here about seven if you'd be so good. Wonderful. Look forward to seeing you," he said before hanging up.
At five-to-seven Richard pulled though the double wrought iron gates of James' estate, twenty-six acres of sculpted and well tended gardens mixed with woods of oaks and maples. He followed the curved drive for three hundred odd yards, tall perfectly spaced old oak trees lining each side, and pulled up in front of a very large Tudor-style mansion.
Before he had closed his aging Tercel's door, the large front double doors opened. James, casually dressed in tan slacks and open-neck blue shirt, smiled in welcome as he emerged. Richard thought it said a lot about someone as rich as James to be greeting their guest personally when he had countless staff.
"Richard!" James boomed. "Welcome. Is this the first time you've been out here?" he asked extending his hand.
"Yes. It's very nice, James," Richard said politely. He couldn't imagine living in such a large house.
"Rubbish! It's ten thousand three hundred square feet too big for me. But what can you do, eh? Ancestral home and all that," he said with a blue-eyed wink and a smile. "Come, come."
Richard was escorted into a classic study, a huge fireplace, book-lined walls filled with leather-bound collections, gold leaf titles on the spines, a dark wood floor, large, deep leather armchairs with brass stud-work, and an expansive leather inlayed desk. Even the floor lamps and desk lamps were classic, green glass shade on the desk lamp, tiffany shades on the floor lamps.
He noted that many of the books appeared used; someone had read them, they weren't for show.
The study smelled of old leather, cigars, cognac, and tradition.
Settled in armchairs, James spoke while lighting a cigar, a Churchill, Cuban, illegal Richard noted with a smile.
"So Richard, I've been giving our little problem some thought," James said. Richard thought it interesting that it was now 'our problem'.
"The way I see it is there's a conflict of principles here. On one side we have the state and most of society and on the other, people who care." James grinned. "There's also a moral issue of course. So laws and morals, hmm.
"Like you, I think it would be nice to do something. I mean, it's quite a different set of circumstances with these girls, isn't it?" He continued without expecting an answer, "The problem is two-fold as I see it. First, it's illegal, beyond the pale here in the States," adding as an afterthought "and pretty much everywhere, hmm?
"And then there's the other problem. It's one thing to want to help, but who would you get. Really, think about it Richard. I think the word you used was 'love' not 'sex'. That's significant. In fact that's the only reason I have devoted some thought to the problem," James said with a smile. "So 'love'. Clearly any person predisposed to. . . um, oriented to. . . Oh hell, I'll just say it. We can't exactly go find our self a pedophile now, can we?
"No, we need someone who is genuinely warm hearted, considerate, kind, gentle, compassionate, and reasonably easy on the eyes; the girls have to like him, hmm? This individual also has to be willing to break the law and take risks; be a rebel so-to-speak, an outcast, a contrarian. And one who would be willing to help, too."
With a glint in his eyes he asked, "Know of anyone like that Richard? Hmm?"
Richard knew he wasn't supposed to know, he was supposed to ask. "No one pops into mind, James," he said smiling.
"Yes, you see? Quite a rare breed." With some pride James continued, "Just so happens I might know such a man." He paused looking off to nowhere. "Yes, just the man," he said to himself.
After waiting a moment for James to come back to the conversation, Richard asked, "Could you tell me about him?"
"What? Oh. Yes. Jeremiah McTavish-Reardon. Shame about his Scottish mother. What a name, hmm? His mother was quite the fireball. Where was I? Ah, Jed. Yes, I think Jed might be the man we need."
"Excuse me James, but would Jeremiah be a relative?"
"Of course he is; my nephew on my dear departed brother's side. Quite a character. Black sheep of the family, you know. Told us all to bugger off. Went and did his own thing." A note of pride crept into James voice. "Turns out the boy's a tinkerer and, surprising us all, registered several patents for increasing data compression over networks, improving their capacity, or something like that. Anyway, he made a boat load of money; still does."
With a grin, James looked at Richard. "Told us to politely screw off and retired. Thirty-three can you believe? Quite the character," this said with some pride and approval.
"So you think he'd be the right person? He doesn't sound as if he has the qualities you were talking about."
"Oh, don't get me wrong. He's made of stern stuff, that lad. But he's one of the kindest, most considerate people I've ever met. . ." James voice trailed off, a wistful expression emerging, "when he wants to be, that is." Briskness returned to his voice. "Yes, I think you should go have a chat with him. If he decides to do something, nothing will stop him."
"Uh, where would I find him?"
"Guatemala, Mexico. I'll courier a letter to him; no phone, don't you know," James said with a wink, hairy white eyebrow dipping.
A soft knock interrupted their conversation, the study door opening. "Dinner, Sir," a tall ancient-looking valet said with a snobbish expression, nose twitching from the noxious cigar smoke hovering in the air like a cloud of smog.
James leaned towards Richard. "Robson doesn't approve of cigars," he said quietly with a twinkle of mischief. "Don't really like them myself, but it is fun getting the old fart's dander up."
Banging on the door interrupted my careful attention. I was trying to spear the wayward Lychee at the bottom of the martini glass without spilling alcohol. Being the third martini within the last hour, my manual dexterity was not what it usually was.
"What the hell is it?" I grumbled to myself as the banging resumed; a faint sound from where I was sitting. I was tempted to ignore whoever it was. Then again, anyone willing to come all the way out here must really want to see me. Wonder who? Why were they trying to interrupt my planned drunken spree?
Richard stood at the door, knocking progressively harder and louder. Sweat dripped down his temples and stained his underarms. Who in God's name would live out here? The driveway alone must have been two miles long, not a neighbor in sight and, finally pulling up to the house, all he saw was a huge tall adobe wall with red tiles on the top and a battle-scarred wooden door. It was bizarre. This place was completely isolated.
He'd had to ask three times for directions since the GPS decided he was in the wrong country. "The gringo? Back there," one person had told him pointing west. "The American? That way," another said indicating east. Big help they had been.
The wooden door creaked open on rusty hinges and Richard saw Jeremiah McTavish-Reardon for the first time. Jed was medium height, long dark hair falling to well below his collar, lean face unshaven, ruler-straight nose, and piercing cobalt blue eyes staring with no welcome in them, a frown darkening his face.
"What is it?" I asked, feeling like I had two sheets to the wind from three martinis. I sure was an easy drunk. And cheap.
"I'm Richard Lastman," the guy said.
"Don't need any," I answered moving to close the door.
"Please. Richard Lastman, from the Sunshine Foundation?" he said as a question.
"Congratulations," I answered. "Still don't need any."
"Mr. McTavish-Reardon, didn't you get a letter from James Reardon?"
"My Uncle? Nope. At least. . . Nope, not that I can remember." Did I? Hmm. Maybe I'll check that pile in the entry hall.
"He sent me to talk to you," Richard explained.
"Fine. In that case, don't just stand there, come in. Want a Lychee martini?"
I probably should have stopped drinking. The more Richard talked the more confused I became. It sounded like he was inviting me to do something completely illegal, immoral, and reprehensible. When I switched to coffee and concentrated it all became clear. . .
He was asking me to do something completely illegal, immoral, and reprehensible.
It was dark by the time I realized he was serious. He and Uncle James really were asking me to break the law.
It was well after midnight when I finally sobered up enough to understand what they were trying to achieve and saw the passion and care he was projecting.
Butterflies flitted in my stomach. Not a pleasant feeling, I decided. I should have had a martini, or even a Singapore Sling. I was really nervous. Then again why wouldn't I be? I mean waiting for a young girl to arrive knowing I'm supposed to make love to her? It was strange to say the least. The arrangement was even weirder, if that was possible.
Uncle James had somehow had me certified as a therapist for sick children. Me? A therapist? What a laugh! And adding to that, my home was now classified as a clinic! My home! Richard had arranged for 'treatment' to last four days. Originally he'd proposed two, but when I fully understood what these girls needed, I refused. One couldn't give them the experience they wished for in two days. That would cheapen it to pure sex.
Eventually they agreed with some reluctance. I'd smiled at that. What choice did they have?
Hearing a knock at the front, I wiped sweaty palms on my pants, took a deep breath and opened the door.
Amy stood holding her Mom's hand, butterflies in her stomach. She was torn with conflicting fears, afraid she'd not like Jed, afraid he'd not like her, especially without any hair. She felt ugly. But she wanted this so much, just this, nothing else. It had been a long journey and, the closer she got, the more she worried.
Looking up at Mom she smiled weakly. Then the door creaked open. Two remarkably blue eyes looked out with a twinkle in them, smile crinkles at the edges, a smile on a nice mouth welcoming her. Oh, wow. Nice, she thought. He looked nice. Relief eased her fears, but not her nervousness.
"Amy? Mrs. Desland? I'm Jed. Please come in." It had taken an act of will not to be shocked by Amy. I should have expected it, but her baldness and ashen skin surprised me. Soft brown eyes looked at me with apprehension and, once I looked past the baldness, I realized she was a pretty girl, if a bit gaunt from treatments.
Amy walked in, expecting to enter a house. But all she entered was a garden that was jammed with lush plants in bloom, bushes with shiny deep green leaves, cacti, and small dwarf trees she'd never seen before. Following Jed down a curving gravel path, staring left and right at the impressive variety of plants, each spectacular, she almost bumped in to Jed when he stopped.
"Here we are. Come on in."
The house was adobe just like the walls around the garden, seemingly old with red tiles on the roof, a front door of old wood and black iron hinges and handle. But when she stepped in it was completely different. It was huge! A dark mahogany floor stretched out ahead leading to three steps down, opening into a huge living room with glass walls two stories high framing gently rolling deep blue Pacific Ocean swells, bright sun sparkling and winking. It was a living painting. Breathtaking.
The furniture seemed to fit; large comfortable-looking sofas and armchairs in a cream material, mahogany side tables and coffee table, and to the right, a sweeping staircase going up and down, black wrought ironwork banisters with intricate designs that looked like flowing waves. There were potted plants here and there each with spectacular blooms, startling birds of paradise with orange stalks and purplish-blue flowers, pure white orchids, and a red ginger with deep burgundy blooms. Everything was spotless and neat, yet a casually tossed magazine and newspapers here and there suggested it was a well used space.
Jed led them to the right and she entered the kitchen, but not like any she'd seen. It was as big as the whole first floor of their house in Boston. She admired the large wood kitchen table made out of what seemed to be driftwood. Beyond was a huge kitchen and to the left, a large den area, big LED TV, couches, Mexican rugs on the terra cotta floor, wide glass double doors showing the garden beyond, and, just visible, the edge of a pool. Amazing. He must be really rich, she thought.
"Can I get you something to drink? You must be parched," I offered, watching mother and daughter take in the kitchen.
"Oh. No thanks Mr. McTavish-Reardon. Um, I really should go," Mrs. Desland said hesitantly, looking distinctly uncomfortable, somewhat flustered, I thought.
"Amy? Anything for you?" I asked.
"Um, no thank you," she answered, still inspecting everything.
"Okay. Amy, I'm just going to step outside with your mom. Make yourself comfortable."
Taking Mrs. Desland's elbow gently, I let her out the double glass doors, down a short flagstone path to the infinity pool, motioning her to a chair under the large umbrella.
"Mrs. Desland. . ." I started.
"Please, call me Peggy," she interrupted, her fingers fidgeting nervously, touching a button on her cream blouse, an ear lobe.
"Peggy," I smiled, "this is awkward for both of us, isn't it?"
She blushed a pretty pink. "I. . ." Her voice trailed off.
"Yes, me too," I said softly.
Her gentle brown eyes studied me. I let her, waiting for her to decide. I could see her make her decision, the worry lines at the corners of her eyes easing. I heard her sigh softly as if she'd taken a deep breath.
"You'll be gentle?" she asked.
"Like I'm handling delicate crystal, Peggy."
Tears gathered in her eyes. She brushed them away, shaking her head slightly. "I should go. They told me not to come in, just drop Amy off," she said with firmness returning.
"Peggy?" I waited for her to look up at me, not at the table. "Would you like to stay? If Amy wants you to stay, I don't mind." The relief in her eyes, her thankful expression, told me this was a mother that cared deeply. It touched my heart.
"You wouldn't mind?"
I grinned, "Can you cook?"
Amy's laughter was quite musical. She swam in the infinity pool as if she was an otter. I'd settled them into two guest bedrooms and invited them for a swim in the late afternoon heat. Peggy, not having planned to stay, had no swim suit. She sat under the umbrella next to me wearing a light cotton summer dress, sipping iced tea from a frosted glass, smiling with a mother's pride and love at her daughter's antics. The sun was heading towards the horizon in a cloudless blue sky, its radiant heat still strong.
"She's a pretty girl," I said. Amy had entered pubescence. Her blue and yellow bikini showed small breasts forming, the new flare of slender hips giving her a slight waist. Her small bikini hugged her attractive petite bottom, emphasizing rounded buttocks and the mound of her pubis. When wet, a small camel toe formed. She was a bit skinny, a by-product of medical treatment, I assumed. Her thighs were thin, the gap between them wide.
"Yes. She's such a good girl," Peggy said wistfully with a tinge of sadness and a bittersweet smile. She took her eyes off Amy, looked at me. "How will. . . I mean, when will. . ." her voice trailing off, a sweet blush dusting her cheeks.
"When she wants to, Peggy. Amy will decide, not me."
"But," a determined expression appeared, "have you done his before? What I mean is, do you have experience with. . . you know, um. . . girls," adding after a slight pause, a furious blush appearing, "as young as Amy?"
"No. I have no experience whatsoever. But I promise you, Peggy, I'm a gentle man. This is about Amy, not me."
Her eyes studied me for a moment. "Be good to her, please. She's very special." Peggy turned her attention back to Amy in the pool.
Rising, I ran and dived in, deliciously cool water relieving my heated body.
Amy had been studying Mom and Jed talk as she swam. She paid particular attention to Jed, watching his face as he talked, the easy smiles and, every so often, his startling cobalt blue eyes that looked her way. He was slender and, in his bathing suit, she saw a light dusting of hair on his chest. The way he lazed in the chair, he seemed completely relaxed, totally at ease. She liked how his long hair fell to his shoulders in thick dark waves. He was sort of cute.
When he ran and dived into the pool, so gracefully, kicking up practically no backsplash, she smiled as his shadow neared underwater. Suddenly a hand grabbed her ankle and pulled her under. She resurfaced, gasping and coughing. "Hey!"
Jed held her as she recovered, a big grin on his face, a contagious grin. "Not nice," she said, holding on to him.
"No. I'm not nice at all," I said with a grin. "How are you feeling?" Amy was small and light in my arms. I took the opportunity to rest my hands on her body, get her used to my touch. Up close, I could see little flecks of gold in her irises.
"Okay. A bit tired."
I gave her a little hug. "Let's go make dinner, shall we?"
I liked the way both Amy and her mother helped make dinner. Their chatting together was free and easy, reinforcing the close bond they obviously had. I took the opportunity to compliment Amy on her nice summery yellow dress, rub her back as I stood next to her at the counter while she tore lettuce for a salad, and generally touch her gently, a hand on her shoulder, a touch on her arm; small gestures of care. Peggy saw them all, I noticed. She smiled at me when Amy couldn't see her.
The growing comfort Amy felt was obvious. She sat next to me on the couch after dinner to watch a movie. Peggy deliberately sat on my other side. And through Grumpy Old Men, as Amy laughed and giggled, I comfortably rested my arm over her, my thumb lightly stroking the soft invisible hair on her arm. Peggy and I chatted, got to know each other better. Peggy was a nice lady. I liked the intense care she expressed for Amy, the way she always had an eye on her but never interfered, the companionable tone of voice she used when talking to her daughter, not as a mother but a friend. She was articulate and well read. Quite frankly, I was impressed with her.
For them both, it was an early night, tired from a long trip that started early that morning in Boston. I cleaned up, quite satisfied with the initial progress and retired.
About eleven or so, a gentle knock on my bedroom door woke me. I opened it to the sight of Peggy in a conservative, mid-thigh lavender-colored satin nightgown, attractive eyes studying me with nervousness.
"Can I come in?" she whispered.
I opened the door, gesturing for her to enter, closing the door quietly behind her. She turned to me, a delightful little pink color gracing her cheeks.
"I. . . I. . ." And, without completing her thought, Peggy leaned in and kissed me softly. I wasn't na´ve. I was pretty sure what was happening, later confirmed by her. She was seeking companionship, someone to be close to, if only temporarily. She wanted to feel, and, for only a while, forget. She was also a caring mother who still held concern for her daughter's well being; she had questions that no amount of talking could adequately be answered, nothing I could say would quiet the worries inside her. I wasn't na´ve.
Peggy was a lovely lady, slightly older than me, middle thirties, soft short brown hair, an attractive and kind face with gentle, worried and, at that moment, nervous eyes. She wasn't thin or plump. In fact, in many ways she was perfectly average. Yet I found her very attractive. I'd seen care and love in her, the way she let Amy do whatever she wanted while keeping a close eye on her, protective, a good mother.
I gathered her in my arms and kissed her back, letting her set the pace. I knew this was an audition of sorts. When she opened her mouth and touched my lips with her tongue, I reciprocated, playing with hers, letting her passion build. I waited for her to invite my tongue into her mouth and felt the first stirring of arousal when she pressed herself against me.
Two full firm breasts pressed against my chest. Our kiss intensified as I caressed her back with one hand, combed my fingers through her soft hair with the other. Finally, Peggy broke the kiss, smiled at me and, without saying a word, none necessary, she took my hand and led me towards my bed. We stood facing each other.
Making love to Peggy was deeply satisfying. Understanding why she was doing this made her more attractive in my eyes. I slipped her gown off her shoulders; let it fall to the floor in a quiet swish. She was naked underneath. Gently I caressed her breasts, lovely firm curvaceous breasts topped with large, responsive nipples. I really liked the way she hesitantly stroked my erection over my pajama bottoms, her small blush. I loved how she looked into my eyes as she slipped my pajama bottoms down, and how she held my erection so gently. Peggy was a very sexy lady.
As we moved onto the bed, facing each other, I kissed her and caressed her back, gradually moving my hand down to caress her curvaceous rear. Peggy slid her knee up over my thigh, pressing her dense, curly pubic bush against my erection. It felt wonderful, she smelled of spring flowers. There was something so exciting about first discovery, the first touch of skin, tracing the valley between full, shapely, sexy buttocks. The first time is always so arousing. It's so exciting to discover what your partner likes, measure their responses, become intimate.
I waited for her to lead and, as she rolled onto her back, her arm gently tugging my neck, I leaned over her and kissed her breasts, touched her nipples with my tongue, sucked gently. I felt them stiffen and, with a free hand, caressed her sensual full breasts, still firm and upright, enjoying her gentle sighs. Slowly I let myself touch the soft tuft of hair at her groin, combing my fingertips through the tight curls, feeling the deep valley at either side. Peggy pulled me into another kiss, a more urgent kiss when I touched her cleft and felt the moisture of her arousal, warm and silky against my finger.
Her slippery arousal let my finger glide between her warm labia, slide over her clit, slip down through her silky softness to touch her vagina.
Still kissing each other, Peggy held my erection, stroking it gently and spreading precum. From her tongue I could tell she was very aroused, confirmed when she pushed at my waist, urging me to move on top of her, her knee digging under me as she spread her legs.
I liked Peggy's passion, found it erotic and exciting. I loved her mature body, soft and yielding, her curves so sexy, intensely feminine; she was all woman. I was very turned on when she guided my erection to her, slid the tip up and down her warm cleft. I was very turned on when she slipped it down between silky labia, and nestled it to her vagina, a warm moist sensation against my crown.
We were looking at each other when she held my hips gently, pulling slightly, inviting me, wordlessly telling me she was ready. Her expression was at once shy and aroused, and very, very attractive. I pressed forward, feeling the exquisite sensation of my erection sliding into her snug, moist warmth, a silky sheath sliding down my shaft. Peggy groaned as I slid deep, her pelvis curling up, legs rising to hook around behind me, her slim thighs touching my sides. I watched her soft sexy eyes close slowly as we started moving, a small smile forming on her lips, using her hands at my waist, and her legs and pelvis to set the pace.
We made love slowly, long pleasurable strokes, her vagina snug, moist, so erotic. Gradually she moved faster, breathing hotly in my ear, her hips becoming urgent, giving me little sighs, attractive moans, "Good Jed." Reaching down, I gripped her full sexy buttocks, our pace picking up, moist sexy sounds filling the air as I plunged into her. I was surprised how hard it was to hold off my orgasm. Peggy felt so good, felt so luscious, so sexy against me. Her passion really turned me on. Thankfully she gasped, tugged my waist hard, lifting her pelvis up suddenly to drive me deep. Quiet little cries of pleasure announced her climax, her mouth seeking mine, and I relaxed, thrusting into her silky snug warmth.
Exquisite pleasure flooded me, my erection swelling, semen burning up my shaft and, with a moan of my own and a burst of pure bliss, I spurted deep into Peggy. I felt her vagina clench as I thrust into her again, semen jetting out, beautiful release, beautiful release. We writhed together, we climaxed together. I came hard, came completely, spurting gloriously to the sound of her pleasure.
When calm returned, I noticed tears, silent tears that slipped from under closed eyes. Peggy was still holding me in her arms, I was still held by her sexy legs, still clasped in her warm pussy. It had been simple sex, uncomplicated, unadventurous, and very satisfying; I imagined it was exactly what she wanted.
"Thank you, Jed," she whispered, her eyes opening as I gently wiped the tears with my thumbs.
We lay comfortably cuddled together as she talked, let her pain out, discussed her worries, her fears. She cried as she talked about losing Amy, she cried as she talked about making it special for her daughter, "just like that, Jed" she requested.
I understood what she meant. Yet, as we lay together, there was some worry that persisted, that nagged at me. Once I'd agreed to this unusual situation, making love to a child, I'd been overcome by doubts. Chief amongst those doubts was how one actually made a child's first sexual experience great. I felt somewhat stressed from the prospect of having to make a child's one and only sexual experience be transcendent, be everything they'd imagined. I didn't know what they imagined or dreamed about. I faced a double dilemma; I'd never actually had intercourse with a virgin, nor with a child. It was a responsibility that loomed large.
There were no guides, no references, no studies or sources I could turn to for insight. I'd struggled with it and, as I lay next to Peggy, still hadn't figured it out. I wondered if I could ask Peggy. Would she think it a bit weird to give me advice on how to seduce her twelve year old daughter? I took a chance.
She smiled when I asked how to make a girl's dream come true, how to arouse a girl, what they wanted at that age. I listened raptly to her suggestions, surprised by some, seeking clarity on others, and kissed her, thanking her. Our kiss became more intense.
"Here, let me show you," Peggy whispered. She proceeded to give me a lesson unlike any I had ever had, teaching me the amazing foreign language of young love. Our second climax was even stronger, intensely satisfying.
I woke her at five am, let her slip from my bed and return to her room. As she closed the door, she gave me such a smile, at once shy and at the same time delighted. I knew I had her approval.
It was the second day when Amy came and sat on my lap. We were at the pool, Peggy back in the kitchen having insisted on making lunch, for which my stomach was thankful. I'd discovered Peggy was a remarkable cook. Amy was in her bikini and, as we'd been chatting, she simply stood up and came to me. She was a sweet girl, soft spoken, a little shy just like her mother. I no longer noticed her baldness; her soft brown eyes captured me. I was remarkably attracted to her. The first blush of pubescence looked spectacular on her.
"When are we going to. . . you know," she asked me softly as I held her to me, her head leaning against my shoulder.
"When you're ready, Amy," I answered.
"How will I know?"
"When you're comfortable, relaxed and at ease, you'll know, sweetheart," I replied. Then grinning, I lifted her up in my arms and threw her into the pool, rejoicing in the sound of her scream of pleasure and excitement. We played friskily, Amy reciprocating my small touches, smiling shyly when she'd inadvertently touch an intimate part of me. I found her laughter and giggles made my heart ache for her. I felt a magnetic draw, a strong attraction. She was truly a beautiful girl.
Amy cuddled closer that night, let me kiss her goodnight on her soft lips, and like her mother, graced me with the slight pink flush I found so attractive and a glisten of pleasure in her eyes. I heard her talking quietly to her mother as they climbed the stairs.
Amy could see a slight lightness as she leaned on the balcony railing. The Pacific looked inky black in the moonlight; the smell of salt water was strong. Very faintly she heard the surf, the beach perhaps a half mile away. Dawn would come within the hour, maybe less, she thought. Almost all night she'd tossed and turned, unable to sleep, nerves and excitement preventing her from relaxing. She had finally walked out onto the balcony. In her thin nightgown she could feel the chill of the night, shivering slightly. She liked Jed. He was kind, he made her laugh, and Mom said she liked him, too.
But, now she was here, she was nervous, really nervous about making love with Jed. All the dreams she'd had about her future, all the dreams of finding love, of a career, marriage, children, all those dreams were gone. She didn't mind. She didn't blame anyone. It was cancer. She hadn't done anything wrong to get it. It just happened. She would smile at Mom's insistence she'd be cured. Amy knew the truth. She could feel it in her bones.
She tried to put on a strong front. Seeing Mom so sad, so devastated, it hurt. She didn't want Mom to feel so bad. Sometimes, late at night, she cried for her Mom's sorrow. And, of everything that had happened to her, the one thing she regretted was never feeling what it was like to make love.
Mom had surprised her when they'd talked about it, a determined expression growing in Mom's eyes. And now, thanks to Mom, here she was. Did she really want to? She nodded to herself. Decision made. Yes, she really wanted to experience it.
The wrought iron door handle felt cool in her hand, her heart beating in her chest. Taking a deep breath, she quietly opened his bedroom door. He'd left his balcony doors open, a breeze from the Pacific wafting thin white curtains. Closing the door quietly she stared at his bed. In the dim light of the moon she could see his form outlined under a white sheet, his dark hair on a white pillow.
Moving towards the bed, her heart pounding, she saw his face, relaxed in sleep. He looked younger, handsome, his mouth nicely shaped. She wondered what kissing him would be like. Little quivers shook her body from excitement and trepidation. Mom had told her she trusted Jed, had told her he'd be good to her and, looking at her intently, had told her it was entirely her decision, "Whatever you want, Amy. This is for you; I want what you want."
Hesitantly, she bent, lifted the sheet and tried to slip in without disturbing him, small nervous jitters making her heart thump. Suddenly Jed's arms reached out to wrap around her gently. She felt him draw her to his front, hold her close. She could smell him now, manly, musky. Cobalt eyes suddenly appeared, a gentle welcoming smile, "You smell like spring, Amy." His eyes closed, she heard him inhale deeply, felt his hug tighten, heard his whisper, "Beautiful, you're beautiful."
It felt good being in Jed's arms, his soft whispers almost making her cry for some reason. She was shocked when she opened her eyes and sunlight was brightening his room. She'd fallen asleep, deep asleep, and felt so rested.
Alertness came instantly when I felt Amy stir in my arms. She smelled good and, despite being a bit gaunt, felt good in my arms, too. Amy's soft, warm brown eyes looked at me, such a sweet girl. I pulled her a bit closer, kissed her small, soft lips gently.
Her smile floored me, so sweet, so bright, so attractive. I kissed her again, a quick peck. "Time for breakfast." What she could not have known, in fact, what I had not expected or prepared for, was the tectonic shift that I felt, her shy bright smile killed me, it killed me.
I knew she'd decided the time was right. Throughout the day her behavior reflected her decision, standing close to my side making breakfast, her delicate hand touching me as she talked or laughed, soft attractive eyes watching me constantly. And, as she smiled and graced me with her pleasure, I fell in love with her sweet attention, her gentle personality, her resilience, her courage, her joie de vivre.
Peggy knew her daughter had made a decision, too. I saw it in her knowing smiles as she watched her daughter, the way her eyes sent me messages though the day, 'be gentle', 'I approve', and others. I found I liked Peggy more and more. Her motherly care and love was very appealing.
I welcomed Amy's attentions, reciprocating with small, slightly more intimate touches, soft caresses, letting my touch linger. I kissed her when I could, on her cheek or on her soft lips, loving her shy delight. I knew she'd decided and I was nervous and excited, scared I might not give her the experience she deserved.
Over dinner I saw Amy whisper to her Mom. After dinner we relaxed on the couch, TV on. Peggy excused herself claiming exhaustion, giving me a knowing look as she left the room and also a warning, her eyes intense.
On the couch I cuddled with Amy, playfully tried to grope her, loving her giggles as she pretended to resist. Gradually Amy let me grope, just a touch and caress. She let me touch her small breasts over her T-shirt, pressing my palm to her with her hand, soft brown eyes turned up to look at me, beautiful.
I leaned down, kissing her on her soft lips. I loved how she turned and straddled my lap, her lips so sexy and soft against mine. Her chaste kiss was tremendously arousing, and Amy smelled so good, young, fresh.
Gathering her in my arms, still kissing her gently, I carried her up to my room, pushing the bedroom door closed with a foot. I had to pause before putting her down on the bed, her tongue had come out to play. I had thought, perhaps through ignorance, I'd have to focus to be aroused by a child; in fact, it had worried me quite a lot. Amy proved me wrong, very wrong. It took no effort at all to find her sweet amorous attention extremely arousing.
When I returned from the bathroom Amy was in bed, a small form under the sheet. I no longer saw her baldness, only soft, sexy eyes, a shy expectant expression, a beautiful young girl.
Undressing under her watchful gaze was quite exciting. I caught a glimpse of a slender body when I slipped under the sheet. Gathering Amy in my arms, thrilled at the touch of her skin against me, I kissed her gently.
"You're beautiful, Amy," I whispered. She was. And her beauty intensified when she smiled at me, blinding me.
Amy's body was very slender, all bones at first glance. But when I caressed her back, kissing her softly, I discovered hidden sexy curves, seductively silky skin, and amazingly exciting petite, firm buttocks. I liked how her tongue teased mine, becoming more adventurous as I gently traced the crease between her buttocks. Before reaching that intimate part of her I rolled her onto her back, rising on my elbow to study her face. Somehow, without hair her pretty eyes became the dominant feature, still soft, warm and tugging at me, sexy with a hint of passion, a trace of excitement making them glisten charmingly.
Amy's smile was the one thing that killed me. I couldn't resist its sweetness, how with a curl of red lips she could communicate so, so much; shy expectancy, excitement, fear and desire. It killed me, making my heart ache, making me wish harder than I ever had in my life; wishing she'd never developed the insidious disease that attacked her body and shortened her life. The world would be diminished without that smile in it.
I caressed her cheek, leaned close and whispered in her ear, "I love you, Amy. You're gorgeous." I watched tender eyes grow wide. "Can we make love?" I asked her softly.
Amy answered me with a tight, tight hug, her body trembling. "Yes, please," she whispered tremulously. Drawing the white cotton sheet down, I bent and kissed her petite breasts, so firm, so young. Her pink areolae crinkled up, tiny nipples beading. Her sensuous touch as she combed her fingers through my hair was so erotic, her little sighs as I sucked nipples so arousing. I had a hard erection, the tip brushing against her thigh as it pulsed.
I kissed her sternum, her navel. Through my lips I could feel little tremors under her skin. I kissed her lower stomach letting my palm caress the outside of her silky thigh, moving my mouth down slowly, kissing gently, her soft silky skin so warm against my lips. I was highly aroused by her, by her young barely pubescent body, and most of all by Amy, her sighs and encouraging hands caressing my hair. She was beautiful.
As I neared her pubis I smelled her arousal, a delicate, heady ambrosia that made me lightheaded. I don't know why I was surprised, but I was when I saw that Amy had a sparse dusting of silky pubic hair on her mons, the only hair on her body. That first kiss of her plump pubis and the tickle of silky pubic hair against my lips sent an electric bolt of excitement through me, precum oozing and dampening the sheet. With the delicate perfume of her arousal overwhelming my senses, I pressed my mouth against her mound, amazed at how it yielded, how full it was. In the moonlight her skin looked so pale, her cleft a shadowed line formed by rounded labia. Deep shadowed creases at her thighs emphasized the magnificence of her pussy, so young, tender and alluring.
Softly, slowly, I kissed the top of her cleft, the palm of my hand encouraging Amy to part her legs. A shudder coursed through me when her leg moved, the full glory of her pudendum appearing, her scent suddenly strong. I felt Amy trembling under my touch as my palm moved up the inside of her silky thigh. I heard her moan quietly when the edge of my index finger nestled to her groin, against soft labia. She twitched when I traced her sexy cleft and I watched in amazement as the tip of her clitoris appeared between full lips, as if it was flowering at my touch, coming out to welcome me. Amy's pussy, its slight dusting of dark brown pubic hair announcing the onset of pubescence, yet still so young, was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen, so alluring, so sexy.
I was very, very aroused. So aroused I almost forgot what I was supposed to be doing. Amy inhaled quietly when I touched her moist arousal. I distracted her with another kiss of her cleft, reaching for my erection and gathering my precum. Gently I spread it along her closed cleft, slippery lubrication. With a feather-light touch I rubbed her clitoris, rejoicing in Amy's sweet gasp, how her hands curled into fists holding my hair.
Moving down slightly, I tasted her, a delicate, musky ambrosia overwhelming me yet again.
Moving back up to her side, I pulled Amy to me, kissing her sweet lips, kissing the tip of her nose and both eyes. "Amy, sweetheart, you're so, so sexy," I whispered to her.
"Jed," she sighed, pulling my mouth to her, her small tongue pushing at me insistently.
Rolling onto my back, I brought Amy with me, her petite breasts pressed to my chest, slender legs falling to my sides. We kissed as I held her to me, my erection resting along the crease of her buttocks, precum oozing. When I held her glorious small buttocks, Amy sighed again, breaking the kiss and resting her cheek on my shoulder.
Slowly I pulled her buttocks apart and, with a curl of my hips, let the tip of my erection slip down between them. I felt Amy curl her bottom up, my erection sliding smoothly to touch the confluence of her labia. She was moist and slippery from her arousal and my precum. Her arms wrapped around my neck, hot breath against me. Holding her small rounded buttocks I used fingertips to position my straining erection.
"Ready, sweetheart?" I asked quietly.
"Uh-huh." She nodded slightly.
With infinite care I held my crown at the slight indent where her labia met, pushed lightly. I couldn't remember feeling anything like it, ever. Amy's labia seemed to ooze apart and slip over my helmet, as if I was slipping into paradise. I felt half the crown surrounded by silky lips when the tip nudged against the entrance of her vagina. She was already tight and I hadn't penetrated her. I couldn't imagine how tight she must be, how small. It actually felt like there was no entrance.
I had asked Peggy about just this. Was it better to thrust or go slow? She'd told me the sensation of stretching, of slowly taking a man inside, was one of the most erotic parts of making love; knowing you were giving yourself to someone who cared was a huge turn on, "Do it slowly, Jed, carefully."
With her advice in mind, I pushed microscopically, and eased off. I pushed again, feeling myself go just a bit further, and eased off. Amy raised her head from my shoulder, looked at me with eyes that burned with something I couldn't recognize. She kissed me, tongue probing, and joined me with a slight push of her bottom. The rhythm was set; tiny, tiny movements. It seemed to go on forever, our kiss breaking, her cheek back on my shoulder and through it all, precum oozed into her, her moisture increasing. We were slick where we touched, and progress came quite suddenly, her vagina dilating, a quarter of my crown squeezed.
Amy's sudden soft whimper announced her deflowering, her tight vagina popping over my crown, her entrance an almost painful seal under the flared ridge. I was in her, my erection penetrating her and it was exquisite. I'd never felt anything so tight. I couldn't believe I had actually penetrated a twelve year old, nor could I believe how arousing it was, how thrilling. Nothing in my life had prepared me for the feelings storming my body. Amy had just given me an immeasurable gift.
Now I was struggling to tamp down an incipient climax. I felt it building, my erection throbbing and swelling rhythmically, her vagina clutching me so, so tightly. My breath sounded loud in my ears. I wanted to remember this for the rest of my life; holding two sweet little buttocks in my hands, the tip of my erection clasped inside her moist, hot grip, her sensual body on me, two petite firm breasts pressing, slender arms holding me; this was heaven.
Amy moved slightly, pushing back, exploring, testing. I think we were both taken by surprise when my erection slid into her in one smooth motion, slipping deep, soft, hot velvet sliding down my shaft until the tip kissed her end. We froze. I felt her contractions almost painfully tight. I felt the rhythmic swelling of my erection, felt the helmet grow deep inside her.
"Oh, Jed," she whispered. I let her sweet buttocks go and raised her face when I felt tears on my chest. Amy was crying, silent tears falling. Sparkling soft brown eyes spoke of joy, soft brown eyes burned me with love. Amy was happy. I was happy.
"Amy," I said from my heart, wanting to tell her how special this was, how much it meant to me. But I was speechless, unable to finish the thought, drowning in her happiness.
Her smile killed me, it killed me. It made me hurt.
She rested her cheek on my shoulder with a big sigh, and moved her bottom, a circular movement that rubbed my erection against her deepest part. I was very, very close to climaxing, now worried I'd ruin it for her. I held her slender, delicate body to me, an arm around her bony back, a hand on her small bottom.
Moving gently, we started, my hand on her bottom guiding her; long deliciously teasing withdrawals, slow, erotic thrusts, pleasure growing, sweet Amy sighing. We moved together in perfect harmony, her tight vagina massaging my throbbing erection with each long sensual stroke. Lubrication spread and, despite her incredible tightness, our pace increased, thrusts and withdrawals becoming more forceful. Little sighs evolved into little moans, and then sweet groans. Our pace increased, now writhing against each other as I held Amy's slender body tight, groans becoming grunts, hips shoving, harder, harder.
I passed the point of no return, of no control. She was just too good, so, so exciting. "God, Amy, I can't hold back. Too good, you're too good," I gasped thrusting hard, deep, gloriously deep.
Amy hugged my neck tight, slammed her bottom down, she convulsed in my arms, her vagina cramping painfully, thighs gripping my sides, and cried out, "Jed!"
That was it. My erection swelled massively and, with Amy climaxing in my arms, semen burned up my shaft, spurting gloriously inside her, a wall of pure bliss slammed into me. Agony wracked my body as a second, huge surge tore through me, semen jetting out into her clasping vagina. To the sweet, sweet sounds of Amy climaxing, I held her tight and let myself go, drowning in exquisite feeling of cumming inside her, spurting hard, swelling, spurting hard. My universe narrowed to the tip of my erection pressed against her small womb, shooting in agonizingly pleasurable pulses, cumming hard, cumming hard, God Amy, so hard.
It took a long time for conscious thought to return and, when it did, I found Amy had fallen asleep on top of me. As my erection wilted and slipped out of her, a warm gush of semen soak my pubic hair. I was too drained to do anything more than roll, hugging her slender warm body to me. Sleep stole in as I wondered if it had been everything she'd wanted, had I made her wish come true? God, I hoped so. It had been more than I could ever have imagined.
Amy's eyes opened slowly. The unfamiliar surroundings at first confused her until she remembered. There was a slight hint of light outside, a soft cooling breeze wafting the curtains. She was in Jed's arms, his comforting arms.
Amy smiled. Making love had been so much better than she'd imagined, Jed so, so good to her. He had made her feel beautiful, attractive, and desirable. The intensity of his whispers had given her chills. Remembering Jed tell her he loved her gave her goosebumps. She loved Jed, too.
Amy lay quietly enjoying the comfort of being held, of feeling so wanted. She mentally explored her body, feeling an arousing soreness between her legs. Her nipples tingled at the memory of how good it felt to have Jed so deep inside her. The memory of how gentle he'd been and how amazing it had felt as his penis had stretched her was crystal clear in her mind. Deep inside her, somewhere in her chest, she could still feel the intense, intense joy that had hit her as she took him into her body, the joy at giving him pleasure.
Amy felt her nipples pucker remembering how intense her climax had been. But the one aspect of making love that had surprised her, that she'd had no concept of before, was the surge of pride that had overwhelmed her when she had felt Jed spurting semen inside her. She had never imagined that the satisfaction of feeling him climax, of knowing she'd brought such pleasure to him, would be the best feeling of all. There was something so magical about it; something so mystical. It touched something deep in her soul.
That magic, that feeling, was so intense she wanted to feel it again, feel Jed climax. She wanted to feel giving him pleasure, feel his moment of joy knowing she was bringing him such ecstasy. She had to feel it once more.
"Jed," she whispered, caressing the soft hairs on his chest. "Jed?"
Her heart skipped a few beats when cobalt blue eyes looked at her. Jed had an unusual look in his eyes, something she hadn't seen before, something she couldn't put words to. She grinned at him, letting her hand trail down across his stomach under the sheet, her grin growing as his sexy eyes opened wider.
"Wanna try again?" she asked coyly, a shiver of arousal coursing through her when she actually touched his erection for the first time. It felt so big as she held it, her fingers curling around the shaft. Had she taken that inside her? Another shiver of arousal hit her when she stroked it. It jerked in her hand, warm, hard yet silky soft, very exciting. Her nipples ached pleasantly.
She grinned again. "Maybe this time you could do it a bit better? Try harder? Make it feel good? Isn't making love supposed to feel good?"
Laughter burst from her when Jed frowned and growled at her. Her laughter died when he effortlessly rolled her onto her back, leaned over her, stared with an intense heat. His sudden grin was like a burst of sunshine hitting her. She giggled when he yanked the sheet off.
"Well now, Amy. Let's see, shall we?" he growled ominously, mischief appearing.
When he bent and kissed her aching nipples, she groaned, her arousal immediate, heat flushing through her body. When he sucked her small breasts she felt her nipples plump up, hard and aching. Breath exploded from her when she felt his touch, his large hand cupping her pussy, a finger teasing her slit. She actually felt her clit swell. Her legs parted automatically.
She caught a quick glimpse of Jed's erection as he moved down the bed, her heart thumping painfully as she watched him lay between her legs. Was he. . .?
"Oh," exploded from her at the touch of his lips, cobalt eyes twinkling at her from between her thighs. She jerked when something incredibly soft touched her clit, arousal storming her body, Jed was licking her clit! Amy felt helpless, her hips moving to push her pussy against Jed's mouth, so good, so aroused. She caressed her small breasts, feeling moisture begin below, shuddering at a finger caressing her entrance, hips undulating, arousal storming her, dizzy, dizzy.
Suddenly sound faded away. She felt Jed suck her sensitive clit, his fingertip penetrate her, and her climax was immediate, a raging storm hitting her. Her body arched off the bed, breathing impossible as every fiber in her body cramped. "Oh God!" Suddenly she was thrashing around, stars bursting behind her closed eyes, her climax punishing her, overwhelming her, too much, too intense, thighs snapping closed against his head. Jed, Jed.
Sounds returned slowly, the rustle of curtains, the thumping of her heart. She opened her eyes, cobalt eyes looked at her from between her trembling thighs, his smile hurting her. She felt completely relaxed, as if her muscles were melting, nice tingles still pulsing through her every so often. She felt good, really good. But, there was something she still wanted to feel; that magical, mystical feeling.
Still aroused, moisture slipping down between her buttocks, a cool wet spot forming under her, she reached her arms out for Jed, watching as he rose, his jutting erection looking huge, red, swollen. Amy tugged at his arms as he held himself over her, "Please," she said softly, lifting her legs to scissor them around his thighs. She felt his erection touch her, felt her slit slowly spread, shudders passing through her, tense, excited. The way Jed looked at her with such care, his cobalt eyes so intense, gave her shivers, heat blooming from his desire. There was something in his intense expression she couldn't understand, but it was nice.
She felt him push his erection, pressure at her groin. She suddenly sighed as she felt herself stretch, stretch more. It thrilled her to know she was taking him inside her, accepting Jed's erection. She could feel Jed making small pushing motions, stretching her even more, so big, he was so big. And, just as she felt a twinge of pain, at the point she thought she'd never be able to stretch enough, he slipped in, pain easing, full, so full, oh Jed.
I looked down at a miracle. Amy looked so small, so delicate, so dainty laying before me and I saw a miracle; I saw a child bald from chemotherapy, too thin from a nausea-induced lack of nourishment, too bony, almost frail. I saw a miracle; a girl glowing, a girl shining in love, a girl feeling beautiful, radiating her joy. I saw a miracle called Amy and felt my heart burst for her. She was gorgeous.
Amy was so sexy, so desirable. Her small cleft was stretched by my erection, reddened clitoris kissing my shaft, her vagina a velvet vice gripping my crown. I felt the pulses of arousal in my penis as it swelled. It was an incredible feeling. She lay below me, legs hooked around my thighs, knees spread. She lay letting me inspect her, appreciate the beauty of her pubescence, the sexy dusting of soft, silky, dark brown pubic hair, slender graceful hips, the sexy swell of her bottom against the sheet, her flat stomach, visible ribcage, two succulent petite breasts perky and flushed with arousal, and best of all, a face that radiated pleasure, that burned me with love, a beautiful angel.
She tugged at my arms, this beautiful child, and I succumbed, laying gently on her, my erection gliding into her smoothly. I held this angel, tiny breasts pressed against me, the tip of my erection touching her deep, a tight velvet glove holding my shaft, griping it gently as she explored the sensations.
I held Amy tight as I started to move, withdrawing reluctantly from her exquisite sheath, rushing back, pleasure flowing as I slid in, shuddering as I nudged against her deepest part. I was lost in her, lost as we made love. I drowned in her velvet clutch, her sexy little sighs, her arms tugging me, urging me. I drowned in her slender legs as they rose to wrap around my waist. I started thrusting into her tight moist pussy with more force, heaviness in my testicles telling me I was getting close. I thrust into her, reaching down to hold her sweet bottom, pull her buttocks against me, penetrating her deeper, deeper.
My orgasm started as a release of pressure, and before I could warn her, pleasure exploded inside, semen burst, jetting into her as I lodged myself deep. Groaning I pulled back, thrust deep and exploded, semen bursting as dizziness overcame me. I thrust and ejaculated hard over and over again, not knowing if Amy was climaxing, overwhelmed, simply drowning in her, climaxing so hard it hurt.
Amy cried out, but not from a climax. She cried out when she felt Jed climax, felt his warm semen flood into her, his erection swelling, pulsing and spurting deep inside her, hot, wet. Knowing she was giving him such pleasure, that her body was giving him such pleasure brought tears to her eyes. There was something so magical about feeling him climax; something mystical. Feeling Jed cum deep in her touched her soul. In that moment, that exquisite moment of Jed climaxing in her, she felt love blossom.
At breakfast Peggy studied her daughter. Seeing Amy so happy, so animated, her eyes shining with pleasure made Peggy's heart ache. The way Jed treated her, so caring, so attentive, it was almost as if he loved her. And she saw the effect it had on Amy, adoration in her eyes. It was going to be hard to leave, but today, in two short hours, the taxi would arrive.
As the taxi took them away from Jed's home, Peggy looked over at Amy, so glad to see her glow, see her daughter so happy. Inside, she thanked Jed for giving Amy this precious gift of happiness. She loved him for his gift. Tears prickled her eyes.
"How do you feel, Honey?" she asked.
Amy turned, smiled gloriously at her. "Good, Mom. I feel really, really good," she said with enthusiasm. "I love Jed. I wish I could marry him."
Peggy smiled. "Get better, honey. If you do, I'll let you marry him."
I hadn't considered the 'after'. I hadn't thought about what I'd feel, or how I'd feel. It had never entered my mind I might feel this strongly.
I yearned for Amy, missed her badly; she took a little part of me with her. My house felt empty. I was very surprised at how I felt; I felt empty and lost, too.
To distract myself, I tried a few Lychee martinis, befuddled myself, fell into the pool by mistake and woke on the chaise lounge the next morning. With a hangover pounding and drilling inside my head, I realized this 'arrangement' was going to be much harder than I thought.
For the next six weeks I moped around, tinkered in my lab, and thought about Peggy and Amy; mostly about Amy. They were never out of my mind.
Richard answered the ringing phone automatically, distracted by a report he was reading. The financial review committee was advising the Foundation that a further two percent cut in the annual budget would be required to balance the books.
"Richard Lastman speaking."
"Mr. Lastman, its Peggy calling. Mrs. Desland."
"Of course. How are you?" he asked, suddenly forgetting the report. He was very interested in how things had gone for Amy. "How's Amy?"
"Oh, Mr. Lastman. . ."
"Please, call me Richard," he interrupted.
"Richard, I'm calling to thank you. I've never seen Amy so happy. Thank you for finding Jed. He was wonderful; a Godsend." Peggy laughed with pleasure. "Amy wants to marry him! Can you imagine?"
"So everything went well?" Inside, Richard felt pleased, and relieved. He hadn't realized how nervous he'd been about the whole arrangement, or how doubtful he'd been about Jed.
"You and Jed made Amy's wish come true. You gave her a precious gift, Mr. Lastman, and gave me one too. Seeing Amy so bright and happy is the best thing that could have happened. Thank you."
"I'm truly delighted for you, Peggy. Thank you for letting me know."
"Um, Mr. Lastman. . . Richard, would it be alright if I referred someone to you? I met someone in the help group that. . ."
"Peggy," Richard interrupted, "Given the nature of, well, the arrangement, it might not be appropriate to discuss it with anyone." Richard felt a flicker of concern. This was very risky, he knew. People talking would bring the police to his door faster than blowflies to a dead body.
Peggy chuckled. "I had no intention of telling anyone. I just wondered if I might suggest someone call you."
"Oh. Well in that case, yes. Feel free."
Amy felt the cold vinyl against her back, touching her skin where the hospital gown didn't quite meet. The loud thumping of the MRI no longer scared her, she was used to how it shook her body, how it sounded as if it was about to fly apart and kill her. She smiled and, closing her eyes, thought about Jed, let the warm feelings flow through her, the feelings she always felt when thinking of him.
Exceptionally large electromagnets spun around the small body, while carefully timed pulses of radio waves were fired, penetrating skin, muscle and bone, altering the rotation of atoms excited by the magnets. Electronic data was collected by sensitive receivers and sent through high-capacity fiber-optic cables to two parallel quad-core processors in the glassed-in observation booth. The processors furiously analyzed and manipulated massive quantities of data streaming in, restructuring the digital information on the fly. Quad-core processors then pushed out reconfigured data to a four terabyte hard drive while also streaming it through cables in near real-time to a twenty-seven inch LCD monitor.
The lab technician casually studied horizontal slices of Amy's body as they slowly formed into a 3-D map of her insides. Interested now, he leaned forward, eyes riveted. He grunted and picked up a medical file, flipping through it. Puzzlement made his brows narrow. He looked back at the monitor, no longer conscious of the thumping resonance of the MRI felt through feet or its percussive pressure in his ears.
As he carefully studied the monitor, his hand reached for the phone. Glancing away from the monitor, he dialed. "Dr. Martin? I think you should come up to the MRI room. You need to see this."
I wasn't quite as nervous when I answered the door this time now I knew what to expect. Never-the-less, I was surprised.
Carrie felt it hit her immediately. It hit her as soon as the old wood door opened. It was uncontrollable. It was an immediate attraction. Jeez, look at that, she thought staring at Jed. She loved how his dark hair fell to his shoulders in thick waves, and his cobalt blue eyes were to die for, she thought. When he smiled, she felt weak in her knees, as if she was going to faint. Instead she giggled. Imagine! Her? Faint? What a riot!
"Are you Jeremiah Mc. . . Mc. . . Reardon?" she asked, still giggling at the image of her collapsing to the ground, swooning, just hilarious!
Reading the profile of Carrie Prescott in no way prepared me for her arrival. Maybe I should have them supply a photo in future, I thought. Carrie, ten years old, was all of four foot two, maybe three, with short very blond hair, a big, big grin, two dimples, and blue-grey eyes twinkling with merriment, personality and mischief. She wasn't overweight so much as. . . cuddly, I decided. Her giggles were so delightful I felt an urge to laugh with her. She was far from what I'd expected.
I chuckled. "Yeah, I'm Jeremiah Mc. . . Mc. . . Reardon. Are you Carrie Pres. . . Pres. . ., are you Carrie?" I asked with a grin.
Her peal of laughter was a pure delight. I grabbed her small suitcase and invited her in. "Where's your mom?"
"I left her at the hotel," Carrie answered, her eyes taking everything in, "Didn't want her with me."
As I led Carrie to the kitchen, intending to offer her a soft drink, it was very hot outside, I asked, "So how did you get here?"
"In a taxi! Can I have some water? I'm really thirsty." And, without waiting for an answer, her face pressed to the glass double doors, continued, "Hey! Is that a pool? Can we swim?"
I waited by the pool, still smiling at her irrepressible personality. She seemed like a storm wherever she was. And there she was, hair streaming as she charged down the flagstone path, let loose with a scream of delight, water exploding out as she cannon-balled into the pool.
"Your turn," she yelled as she surfaced.
Grinning, I tried to create a massive wave, slamming into the pool, knees tight to my chest. The wash of refreshingly cool water over my body felt wonderful. Under water, I opened my eyes, spying Carries legs scissor kicking to keep afloat. Moving through the water I grabbed her ankle and tugged it down.
Carrie's face appeared before me, a big grin, eyes twinkling with pleasure. She kicked out, shot towards me and grabbed me in the crotch. Shocked, I swallowed water, shooting to the surface, coughing to clear my lungs. The tinkle of her laughter brought a smile to my lips; what a devil!
We chased, groped and played for hours. Carrie seemed to have endless energy. Her file had indicated that her astrocytomas tumors could not be operated on, the chance of mental damage too great. Radiation was ineffective against them. Carrie had another couple of years ahead of her. Perhaps, because of the lack of radiation treatment, she seemed completely normal. I was advised to keep an eye out for severe headaches.
Dinner, Mac and Cheese at her request, was fascinating. Her family, the Prescott's of San Francisco, was filthy rich. Carrie, a pure dynamo of energy, fun and delight, peppered me with questions while giving me a running commentary on her life, Mom, Dad, and pain-in-the-ass older brother.
I felt quite exhausted as we sat watching TV.
"Are we going to have sex now?" Carrie asked as she held my arm around her. She'd plunked herself in my lap, grinned and given me a quick peck before settling down to watch.
"Nope. Never," I answered.
Her eyes grew wide. "Why not?" she asked, incensed.
Grinning, I answered, "Because having sex was not the agreement. I might, might just make love to you at some point."
She giggled, "That's what I meant. So are we?"
"Well. . . I'm feeling a bit tired," I responded. "Besides, what do you know about making love? You can't just turn it on, you know."
"I know all about sex. I read it. How's making love different?"
I tried to explain about cuddling, kissing, building arousal, about feelings and how making love was so much stronger and so much better than pure sex. I explained how arousal was needed to reduce the pain felt the first time.
Carrie seriously advised me she didn't have a cherry, her finger had taken that, so we should start right away. "What do we do first?" she asked, quite serious.
I turned off the lights, actually feeling tired from the storm of her personality. "Tonight, my lady," I informed her as I led her by the hand up the stairs, "we sleep together. Nothing more."
"Jeez," she grumbled, muttering, "I only have three more days." It made me smile.
I was the first out of the bathroom and Carrie stormed out several minutes later, naked as a jail bird, jumping into bed.
"Hey!" she exclaimed when her groping discovered my boxers. I had to grin. She was quite something; a very focused and determined young lady.
Carrie cuddled close to Jed, pushing her back against him, holding his arm to her chest. She inhaled his sexy smell, felt his hard body against her. She was surprised he didn't want to make love, which was pretty much just sex, she thought. But, despite the face she put on to the world, she felt scared. She was scared of dying. She was scared of being alone. She was scared Jed might not like her.
And, deep down, she was scared she might not like making love. Her fear had started when she discovered she couldn't climax. All her girlfriends talked about the amazing feeling of cumming and, despite trying, she'd never felt more than nice tingles. That was how she'd lost her cherry, desperation to feel what everyone else felt.
Deep down, she was scared she'd never experience a climax in her life; and she didn't have much longer to find out. Deep down, Carrie felt scared, alone, so scared.
She was really surprised when Jed woke her, sunlight brightening the room. She'd been sure she was too tense to sleep. But, as she opened her eyes, her breath caught. Sexy cobalt eyes looked down at her. She became conscious of his big hand resting on her stomach. Jed had a sexy mouth she decided. But his smile, jeez, it made her stomach flutter.
"Morning Sweetheart," he said. "How did you sleep?"
Carrie yawned and stretched, "Good, really good."
She watched him smile gently, gorgeous eyes twinkle. She watched him bend over her, his face growing. She watched his mouth as it came closer, her heart suddenly pounding. When Jed kissed her on her lips, she felt warmth flush through her, soft lips so good. She reached up and took hold of his neck, pulling him. Dizziness struck when she felt the tip of his tongue touch her lips and suddenly she was horny. Before she could even respond and touch his sexy lips with her tongue, something she now really, really wanted to do, he pulled away.
"So get up. Let's eat," I said feeling quite pleased with the groan and frown she gave me. During the night I'd decided, given her irrepressible personality, I would take things slow. Carrie was clearly ready to jump into bed, in fact seemed eager to. But I wanted her to experience seduction, learn there was more than just sex in making love.
All morning I hugged her, kissed her dimpled cheeks, and occasionally kissed her lips, pulling away when she tried to touch mine with her tongue. I loved her grumps and mumbles, found them incredibly charming. I absolutely loved her squeal and admonishment when I pinched her sexy little buttocks. For lunch I took her into town, did some grocery shopping before taking her to a small cantina. I didn't need supplies. I wanted Carrie to feel anticipation. I wanted her to feel desire. Taking her out was a way of making her wait and, in her own way she told me what she thought about it.
"Only two more days! It's not fair, Jed!" she exclaimed with a delightful frown.
But something happened despite her displeasure. I saw Carrie start having fun without the sexual overtones. She giggled and laughed at the touristy trinkets I insisted on buying her, the large Mexican hat being particularly amusing. She held my hand as we strolled through town; she calmed down.
Back home, I chatted with her as we sunbathed, again marveling at her spirit. Slowly I led the conversation around to her dreams, what she dreamed about when she imagined making love. Carrie showed a remarkable romantic side of her personality as she talked, hands animated, smiles, dimples. She was totally delightful.
It was a different girl that ate dinner with me that night. This one was still funny, still energetic. But, without the sexual orientation, this girl was perfectly charming, and I found myself liking her a lot. I had set the formal dining table carefully, dressed in tan slacks and a sky blue cotton dress shirt.
Candles flickered in the gentle breeze that came through open double glass doors, the faint sound of surf drifting in, relaxing, calming. Carrie had dressed in a simple yet becoming red dress. She dazzled me with her smiles and dimples as we ate New York steaks.
When we finished dinner, I rose, took her small hand and led her to the living room. Slow music played over the Bang & Olufsen system as I danced with her. She was short, and as we danced, I lifted her into my arms, hugged her to me, and danced. It felt good the way she held my neck, her cheek against mine. There was no signal; it just seemed as if our lips sought each other's out.
That first kiss was gentle, her small mouth so soft. Blue eyes glistened in pleasure before closing, her head tilting. Her small mouth opened against mine and I met her moist tongue, surprised at how erotic her kiss was, an erection growing.
We kissed as I moved to the music. I let myself go, let myself enjoy her lips, her tongue, her quiet moans.
"Nice," she whispered, resting her cheek on my shoulder. Yes, indeed. Very nice, I thought.
It was perhaps after the third kiss that she hugged me a little tighter and whispered in my ear, "Can we, please?"
I answered by carrying her up the stairs, hugging her petite body to me.
Carrie didn't charge out of the bathroom that night. She walked calmly, commenting on the day, telling me with a giggle she could never wear that hat back home. Without the frenetic energy and the storm of her personality, I could actually look at her. I'd been right. She wasn't overweight, just pleasantly cuddly. Carrie's bum was quite remarkable; two rounded, bubbly buttocks that appeared quite prominent, with a tightly closed butt crack.
Her pubis was also remarkable. Hairless, it seemed huge, mounding out from her groin, with a dimple where her cleft started. She had a gently curved lower stomach and flat chest with tiny pink nipples. She was also completely unconcerned with her nakedness, something I found rather attractive. In fact, all-in-all, she was a charming little girl, so normal I had to remind myself she was sick.
I drew her to me when she slipped under the sheet.
While she brushed her teeth, Carrie had thought back over the day, surprised at how much fun she'd had. Being with Jed was fun, but even better, it was nice. He was so relaxed and easy going she'd simply fallen for his charm. And he was still sexy as hell, she decided, rinsing her mouth.
Dancing and kissing had been incredible. She could still feel the really pleasant tingles she'd felt. And, gee, he was a good kisser!
When she walked to bed, she didn't even think about being naked. Her mind was busy admiring his cobalt blue eyes, how bright they looked with his long dark hair. When he smiled, she felt flutters in her belly, so handsome.
Those flutters turned to little pulses of pleasure when he pulled her into his arms. They became little pulses of arousal when he kissed her, his warm lips so sexy. She moaned when her tongue touched his, then giggled furiously when she heard herself. Just too much! Her? Moaning?
He stopped the giggles suddenly with another grin, but, oh, the heat in his eyes made her shiver. This time she didn't care when she heard herself moan. Jed's touch sent electric shocks to all the right places, his hand so warm on her pussy. Looking into his eyes as he leaned over her, she suddenly relaxed. Jed's touch felt good, gentle. The sparks of pleasure felt good, promising more.
She was riveted as Jed leaned over and kissed her nipples, suddenly making them ache. Her heart was beating when he sucked them gently. She'd never, never imagined how good it would feel. Nervous flutters appeared in her stomach when he started kissing her tummy, moving down towards her pussy. She stared at him as he moved her legs apart and lay between them. What was he doing?
The first thing she felt was Jed's warm breath on her pussy. Her head fell back against the pillow when he kissed it, soft lips touching her, arousal pulsing in her pussy. She bucked slightly when his tongue licked her slit, and groaned when it pushed between her lips. Now she felt herself becoming moist, good, Jed, good.
Her hands clenched, gripping the sheet, eyes closing, concentrating on the sensation of his tongue, almost rough, slipping along her cleft, pulses of pleasure, nice, Jed, nice. A groan escaped unnoticed. The bolt of pleasure that hit her when he licked her clit was incredible, her hips twitching. Another bolt of pleasure hit, hips twitched.
Heart pounding, breath panting, she felt pressure build in her body, Jed's tongue caressing her clit, aching, pressure building. With her small fists gripping the sheet, her hips started undulating, pressing her pussy against his mouth, spikes of pleasure, pressure, pressure. Suddenly a storm crashed over her taking her breath away, pressure released, pure bliss tore through her body. She cried out, body heaving off the mattress, pleasure, oh God, pleasure. Climaxing hard, Jed's tongue intensifying her orgasm, body heaving, Carrie burst into tears, crying hard as her orgasm wracked her body. Oh God, oh God, I'm cumming!
I was stunned at the violence of Carrie's climax. Like her personality it was as if a storm was raging inside her, her body writhing violently, fists pulling at the sheet. I was worried when she burst into tears, crying hard as she almost screamed. I'd never seen anything like it.
When she collapsed, I quickly moved back up, gathering her sweaty, jerking body in my arms, gently shushing, trying to calm her. Carrie cried in my arms, as if she was letting out demons, she sobbed and I didn't know why, or what to do. I held her tightly, rocking her small body, murmuring to her. I comforted her until she stilled. Looking down I saw she'd fallen asleep.
Confused, I drew the sheet up over us. I held her as she slept.
Morning came with a bang. A small bundle fell on me shocking me awake. Bright blue eyes twinkled at me, Carrie smiled, dimples forming.
"Thank you!" she said fervently, hugging me tight.
I was somewhat bemused as, over breakfast of cereal and milk, Carrie excitedly told me that it had been her first orgasm, how happy she was that there was nothing wrong with her, that we absolutely HAD to do it again right after breakfast, and could she give herself one do you think?
The storm that was Carrie threatened to overwhelm me. But, eventually I managed to convince her that swimming might be fun, too. I was not surprised when Carrie came charging down the flagstone path, whooping as she launched herself into the pool. I wasn't even surprised at her nakedness. Carrie was Carrie. She seemed to do everything with verve; a study in opposites, intense confidence, incredibly insecure.
"Come on! It's great!" she screamed as she surfaced.
What the hell. I dropped my swimming suit and dived in.
I discovered something I'd never considered before. In the crystal clear water, with morning light glancing across the surface making it mirror-like from underneath, I discovered the attractiveness and sexiness of a naked girl swimming. I developed a full on erection watching Carries bubbly buttocks flex seductively, and seeing her hairless pussy winking at me. I watched in amazement as she swam, her short cleft flowering open to show a long clitoral hood, the dark entrance to a tiny, tiny vagina and her little rectum, before disappearing, legs closing. I found myself following her around, fixated on how her charms moved so seductively, teased so deliciously. It really was amazing, and very arousing.
I spotted Carrie eyeing my erection and watched the mischief appear in her eyes, her grin, her dimples. Carrie proved to be an accomplished tease, thrusting her pussy at me, diving under to flash her little bottom at me, grinning when she'd grab my erection, let it go and swim away. She drove me nuts, so nuts I wanted a kiss, wanted to hold her sexy little body, grope and feel it a bit.
Charging after her, Carrie screaming with laughter, I caught her and hugged her struggling body to me. In four odd feet of water, I held her, enjoying how her body caressed my erection with her struggles. When she twisted in my arms we came face to face and she felt my erection nestled against her tummy. In an instant her eyes lost the mischief, her smile faded. I watched fascinated as desire appeared in a ten year olds eyes. She held my gaze while reaching between us, a small hand gently feeling and holding my erection. I watched as she held my neck with one arm, felt her legs circle my waist.
Without a word being spoken, I held her sweet little buttocks, supporting her as she guided the tip of my erection along her slit, her head bent staring down. I almost stopped her, remembering just in time that this was for her.
With the exception of slightly spreading her sexy buttocks, I did nothing to help. I let her rub the tip of my erection along her cleft, felt it caressing me. I could feel her moving slightly from the muscles in her thighs, and felt her positioning my erection with tiny circular motions, her pussy pressing down, pressing. Unbelievably, I felt her dilate, a small hole opening. Carrie started to hump against me, each push seeming to open her more.
There was silence, broken only by the faint caw of seagulls and the burble of water flowing over the lip of the infinity pool. I was quite frozen, somewhat stunned at how sexy this was. Having a ten year old working to get my erection to penetrate her was totally arousing. A moan broke the silence, my moan. Carrie's pussy slipped over me, gripping my helmet. It was exquisite, so tight it was almost painful. With the tip lodged in her, she held my neck, her face turning up to me, a soft, sexy smile curling her lips.
"It's in," she said softly, giving me an agonizing clench. Then Carrie tilted her head in a very mature way and kissed me.
I felt like Carrie was seducing me. It was Carrie's tongue that teased my lips, it was Carrie's tongue that probed, pushed and slipped into my mouth. It was Carrie that gently squeezed my erection, making me throb and groan into her mouth. I was being seduced by a ten year old. . . and loved it.
I loved how she moaned into my mouth, her legs tightening, bright blue eyes closing. I loved how she groaned as she pushed down, how it felt as my erection slowly burrowed into her. I could actually feel her insides part as she pushed me deeper, my erection swelling rhythmically, held deliciously tight. Carrie worked herself onto me, small up and down movements pushing my erection deeper and deeper until, with a sigh that broke our kiss, my erection nudged against her cervix, her cheek dropping to my shoulder.
I stood in the pool, buried inside a ten year olds pussy, holding her sexy body to me, my erection pulsing, arousal storming me. I stood feeling the cool water on my heated body, the warm sun on my shoulders, Carrie's hot breath panting against my neck. I stood, holding her tenderly until the urge became too much.
Holding her bubbly buttocks, I lifted her off my erection, slipping out. Carrie grabbed me tight, moaning, "No." As the flared, sensitive ridge slipped out, I reversed, pulling her little body down, sliding my erection into her silky depths to nudge against her cervix, my penis sheathed in a tight, tight grip.
"Again," she whispered heatedly.
I pulled her small body up, slipping out, reversing and sliding into her moist heat, nudging against her cervix slightly harder. She sighed, her tight vagina clenching, "Again."
On the third stroke everything became slippery, my precum lubricating us. I slipped out fully. "No," she whined. Before she could move, I pulled her small body down, growing dizzy as my rigid erection parted her labia, squeezed back into her and suddenly slid deep, all the way. Carrie trembled in my arms, tightened her legs and rose, now actively moving, lifting herself and pushing down, exquisite, stunning.
She took the lead, this little girl, rising, falling, her tight, tight pussy caressing my erection. I was having a hard time coming to grips with my situation, naked in my pool making love to a forceful little girl, feeling unbelievable pleasure from her pussy stroking me. But the pure eroticism was amazing, amazing.
I started helping, lifting her sweet bottom. Carrie shoved down, I lifted. Our pace increased as Carrie started panting. I was panting myself, desperately trying to hold back, so sexy, so unbelievably good. Our pace increased, now my erection thumping into her cervix, Carrie grunting in my ear with each thrust. She started shoving down hard, shoving me deep, deep, a desperation appearing. "Yes, yes, almost there," she panted and, thank God, she cried out, "Cumming, Jed, Oh, cumming," her small body shaking in my arms.
I let go, concentrated on the feeling of penetrating her tight little pussy, the sounds of her sweet orgasm in my ear, swelled and, holding her down tight against my erection, exploded into her, semen spurting with a burst of sweet pleasure. Gasping, I pulled her little bottom up, shoved her down, pressed my erection to her small womb and erupted, hot semen jetting out of my painful erection, my body convulsing with pleasure. I couldn't control myself. In the heat of my orgasm, I shoved and spurted hard, unaware of how Carrie was feeling. I came hard, blindingly hard holding her little body tight, pulsing into her.
I couldn't carry her out of the pool. I was exhausted and sleepy. We clung to each other, my erection still buried in her, her legs wrapped around me. I felt the remnants of Carrie's orgasm in how her body would jerk slightly or her vagina clench. Eventually she expelled my penis, moaned against me, wiggled slightly, and hugged me tighter.
The storm that was Carrie assaulted me, demanding attention that night, directing me, instructing me and showering kisses on me every time she experienced a climax. She jumped me the next morning as well. She was a force of nature.
That afternoon, a familiar sadness descended when Carrie left. She'd been so big, such a presence in my life for the last four days. Yet, I didn't feel the loss I still suffered from. I just couldn't get Amy and Peggy out of my mind. I wondered if it was like your first love, never to be forgotten, always cherished.
While I relished the time I'd spent with Carrie, I pined for Amy, and even Peggy.
Seven weeks later, three thousand and forty-three miles north, north west, in a windowless examination room of Harvard's Children's Hospital, Amy and Peggy sat quietly, waiting for Dr. Martin to enter, Peggy holding her daughter's hand.
Peggy had been worried from the moment she'd received the phone call, the secretary refusing to reveal the reason for the unplanned visit. For over a year, as Amy had fought her cancer, there had never been good news from Dr. Martin, just hope and reassurance.
"Are you sure you feel okay?" she asked Amy again, worry in her voice, feeling heaviness in her chest.
"Mom, I'm fine," Amy insisted, giving Mom a bright, bright smile and squeezing her hand.
They both turned when the door opened. Dr. Martin, at thirty years old, was large, boisterous, with unruly light brown hair, frameless spectacles showing smiling blue eyes and a bubbly, positive personality, one carefully developed to lessen the stress of dealing with children suffering incurable diseases. "So, he said loudly, dropping Amy's thick file on the side table, "How are you feeling Amy?"
"Yes, I should think so," he said with a grin, settling on a stool. "Never actually seen it before," he added.
Peggy and Amy sat in astonishment as Dr. Martin proceeded to tell them Amy was cancer free, not a trace left, not a scar, nothing; as if she'd never had it in the first place. As they received the news, two different thoughts occurred.
In one, the memory of a promise made by a mother immediately came to mind, "Get better, honey. If you do, I'll let you marry him." In another, an absolute conviction grew that it was something one man did, a precious gift given that was responsible for her being able to look forward to a lifetime of her daughter's presence; a precious gift of time.
In both, tears spilled.
In his small office, Richard was staring at the letter on his desk, still shocked.
My wife has informed me that you and the Sunshine Foundation were responsible for sending my daughter, Carrie, for some unspecified treatment.
While I have a desire and a right to know what that treatment involved, both my wife and Carrie refuse to talk about it. Given Carrie's health, I accepted and abided by their wishes. I was happy enough to see my daughter's spirits so high.
I have been made to promise I would not ask about the treatment you provided. However, I have not been prevented from showing my gratitude. One week ago, our consulting physician informed us that Carrie was tumor-free. She apparently has no trace of them, even though I had seen them clearly on her Cat Scans before. You may not know, but Carrie was not undergoing treatment, her condition was deemed incurable. I do not know what the treatment was, I will not ask. However, I cannot ignore it either.
Herewith, enclosed with this letter, please find a cheque for $500,000 Dollars. I have arranged for an annual donation to occur every year on this day for as long as Carrie lives.
I'd like to thank you for giving a father more time with his daughter, a precious gift. I would ask that you use the annual donation to help other children like Carrie, to share the precious gift with other parents.
You have my, and my wife's sincere gratitude.
George William Prescott IV
Richard picked up the cheque again, confirming it really had five zero's. He read the letter again. He was confused, not knowing how Carrie could possibly be cured. Never-the-less, he felt good that he'd managed to help a child and, with the donation, was going to be able to help more children.
He had no idea of the shock he was going to feel when another call from Peggy would soon follow.
I'd pretty much decided to stop. Five girls had visited me in seven and a half months, each seeming to take a part of me when they left, each leaving me feeling empty. I seemed to become so attached to them. And yet, after all this time, I still pined for Amy and, yes, even Peggy. I couldn't remember how many times I decided to go to Boston then changed my mind. It horrified me to think I might get there and find Amy gone; better I not know, I'd decide. I could live with ignorance better than. . . Yes, better not to know.
Despite the joy and satisfaction each child brought into my life, despite the pleasure, both physical and emotional, of making their wishes come true, it hurt every time they left. I'd never recovered from Amy's impact on me and, I was beginning to think I never would. Amy had done something to me, changed me in some way.
I'd developed a bad habit of comparing each girl to Amy and chastising myself when I did. The memory of her smile still burned me, still hurt. And, to make matters worse, I hadn't invented a thing in seven months. My mind, my creativity was dry, the Sahara, gone, adding to the emptiness I felt.
Yes, I'd pretty much decided to stop. And I would have. But, on a cool, blustery grey day in late November, my world changed with an unexpected pounding on the door. I wasn't expecting anyone for another five weeks and I certainly had not asked anyone to visit me.
Grumping and complaining I headed to the door, getting pissed off that whoever it was wouldn't quit pounding. "What?" I yelled, tugging the heavy outer door open.
A willowy girl with shoulder-length mahogany brown hair stood at my door. Soft brown eyes glittered with excitement, irises flecked with gold. Red lips curled into a shy, bright smile. It killed me. It stopped my heart.
"Amy?" I gasped. She looked so. . . healthy. Her skin glowed, she had rosy cheeks, and her smile. . . Jesus. I had time to notice a cab departing before she slammed into me, throwing herself into my arms.
As I inhaled Amy's scent, listening to her babble something about being well, I saw Peggy walk over from where the taxi had been. I saw a radiantly happy look on her face making her so pretty, her soft smile so attractive. I detached myself from Amy to give Peggy a hug.
"Welcome back." I felt whole again as I escorted them in, the emptiness gone.
"You have to, you know. It's important."
I didn't want to think about Jenny Felton. My heart was still racing, I was so relaxed. Amy and Peggy were back; that was the thought that had played through my head every day for the last two weeks. "No I don't." I hugged Amy to me, taking the opportunity to grope her petite breast, my heart singing as she giggled. I felt like sleeping, my climax had been so powerful, utterly satisfying. As she tried to get out of bed, I hooked a leg over her petite body, holding her back.
"Let me go, jeez. I'm leaking, Jed."
Watching her run to the bathroom clutching her panties to her groin, I admired how much almost eight months of health had changed her. Amy was willowy now, slender, yet had these seductive little bumps and curves in all the right places. I could still see her ribs, but they no longer looked like she was a refugee.
Amy had delectable petite breasts, slightly larger than before but just as firm and upright, and a gorgeous, gorgeous bottom, two sexy buttocks that had felt so familiar just moments ago. I reminded myself to kiss them again, maybe when she came back from the bathroom. She was the proud owner of a cute little pubic bush, the hair having darkened to almost black, and her clitoris still came out to welcome me when I went hunting with great eagerness. She was a beautiful girl inside and, now, outside as well. I loved her rather fiercely.
"She's right, you know Jed. You must."
Peggy, standing at the bedroom door, broke my admiration of her daughter. I had no trouble admiring Peggy either. She was a remarkably attractive woman, an incredible mother. I admired and respected her no end. Yet this whole 'Jed you cure people' thing was totally ridiculous. "No. There's no 'must'. Besides, did you read the file? She's seven. Seven! It's not possible," I informed her.
I watched her soft gentle eyes, saw her caring, her motherly side that I found so, so attractive. Was there something wrong with me that I loved her too? Was it weird that I found watching Amy and Peggy interact so addictive, their relationship so attractive?
Peggy sat on the bed, bent and kissed Jed, a companionable and loving kiss, familiar and warm, but still feeling a spark of excitement. It had been very odd coming back. She'd made a commitment to Amy and, even though she couldn't imagine Jed wanting to marry Amy, she'd brought her back. Old feelings had returned when she saw Amy hugging him, seen her daughter physically glow, and a familiar attraction had hit her when Jed turned and wrapped his arms around her, welcoming her back with such emotion in his voice. Jed was that type of person, one that just made you relax and feel beautiful, feel wanted, and feel as though you were the most desirable female on earth. It was a rare gift.
But she'd been very concerned when, on entering his house, she'd seen signs of neglect. Dust had collected, the windows looked streaked, magazines and newspapers had piled up. In the kitchen, Jed's favourite room, she saw dirty pots in the sink, an unwashed floor. All together it wasn't much and would take an hour to clean up, but it was so not Jed, so out of character.
She'd listened in amazement over dinner that first night, and, if she hadn't seen the truth in his cobalt blue eyes and the evidence in his house, she'd never have believed he was really pining for them; pining for them both! Before she knew it, she'd succumbed to his pleas and agreed to stay, Amy squealing with delight. She'd agreed without even considering how the situation could work. But, like everything Jed did, he made her feel as if it was her home. Somehow he made it work, giving her so much attention, so much love, it didn't feel weird. When he paid attention to her, he made her feel like she was the only woman in the world that mattered.
"Honey, you really do have to. If you don't, Jenny will die," Peggy told Jed softly, combing her fingers through his damp hair.
"Are you sure it's not something in the air, Peggy?" We'd had this debate many times over the last couple of weeks. Peggy claimed it was something I brought out in the girls when I made love to them. Ridiculous, I claimed, being scientifically trained. I liked the way Peggy cuddled to my side, and took the opportunity to slip my hand up under her nightgown, fondle her sexy bum.
When she grinned, I saw where Amy got her grin from. Lovely, perfectly lovely. I was remarkably happy.
"Jed," Peggy asked, distracted slightly from fingers probing between her buttocks, "Are you willing to take that chance?"
Bugger. But, that aside, how could you physically make love to a seven year old? I asked Peggy. She'd proved so wise in these things.
"Let me show you," she whispered, sending a strong wakeup call to my penis.
"Hey, Mom," Amy said lightly walking naked out of the bathroom.
"Amy, honey, can you give us some time?"
"Sure. I'm hungry, anyway. Have fun." Amy giggled as she closed the bedroom door, tugging her nightgown over her head. She loved that Mom and Jed made love too. She didn't feel jealous at all. It was impossible to, the way Jed treated her. All she cared about was being with them both, the two people she loved most in this world. She knew Jed would eventually agree to make love to Jenny. He had to. He had to give Jenny and her family his precious gift, the gift of time.
I liked that Peggy wanted to welcome Jenny when we heard the knock. While I stood and let Jenny inspect me, I saw Peggy greet Mrs. Felton, Jenny's mother. I smiled at Jenny, held out my hand. "I'm Jed."
Jenny was a tiny girl, seven years old, bald, had had a bone marrow transplant to treat leukemia at four years old and it had returned, unusually virulent. Doctors had said the chance of remission was less than two percent given her previous bone marrow transplant hadn't succeeded.
Her hand was tiny and thin when she shook my hand, dark brown eyes looming large in her small, gaunt face. She was deathly pale. The smile she gave me warmed my heart. When she limped as I escorted her into the garden, my heart broke. Her limp meant she was in pain, joints sore. Reaching down, I picked her up pretending to show her a flower blooming on a long stem.
"Here, you've got to smell this one. It stink's like garbage," I said leaning over to the fuchsia flower.
"Yuck!" she uttered, face scrunching up.
Jenny had studied at Jed with interest. She decided he had a nice smile, his eyes were nice, that blue nice. When he picked her up, at first she was embarrassed thinking he knew how much her knee hurt, but when he showed her the stinky flower, she smiled and relaxed. Somehow she felt better in his arms, not as achy. She was a bit mystified why they had come here. But Mom had made her promise to do everything she was told. Jenny didn't want Mom crying any more, it hurt seeing Mom cry.
She stared around, liking all the flowers and plants, pretty.
My heart skipped when I saw Amy walking down the stairs, her smile still killed me.
"Hey. Are you Jenny? I'm Amy," she said holding out her hand. "Can I show Jenny her room, Jed?" she asked without looking at me, her eyes locked on Jenny.
I put Jenny down, hugging her slightly before letting her go. This wasn't going to work, I thought. Jenny was too small, too frail. As I was debating with myself, I realized I was alone, Peggy gone off with Mrs. Felton, Amy with Jenny. I found Peggy in the kitchen, chatting away. Mrs. Felton looked haggard, drawn and tired. Her medium-length dark brown hair fell limp, stress lines radiated from the corners of her eyes, eyes that looked afraid. Mrs. Felton was a very worried mother. I felt for her.
"Mrs. Felton?" I asked as I went to introduce myself.
"Jed, right?" she asked, giving me a smile. "Call me Shelly."
I saw a glimpse of her worry-free face when she smiled, a pretty face, wide spaced eyes, roman nose and generous mouth with classical lips. She had small teeth, bright white against olive skin. Shelly was a petite woman, compact, small breasts under a green silk blouse, slender hips in well worn jeans, and dainty sockless feet in Keds. I thought she might have been a ballerina at some point. It was in the way she held herself, straight back, slender neck, her head at just the right angle.
"I've asked her to stay, Jed," Peggy said, looking at me as if sending me a message.
"Of course. Great. Can you cook?" I asked Shelly with a smile.
We didn't have a real conversation until after Jenny had gone to bed. Amy had kept Jenny occupied, making her sit between us on the couch, chatting as they watched a movie. But it was after they went upstairs that I had a serious talk.
The simple fact was, I was scared. Jenny was frail and sick, she was small, really small. And as if that wasn't enough, she was here under false pretences. She had never expressed a wish to make love. I was actually pissed at Richard. It wasn't the agreement and, now she was here, now I'd seen her, I felt cornered.
I told Peggy and Shelly all of it, my fear making me rather forceful, and immediately regretting it when Shelly burst into tears. But this was just so wrong, so wrong. It wasn't the agreement.
I slept alone that night, Amy deciding to keep Jenny company, Peggy and Shelly talking long into the night. I wasn't there when all four of the ladies in my house talked in the early morning.
Jenny's eyes kept moving from Mom to Mrs. Desland to Amy. She wasn't quite sure why, but they all seemed absolutely convinced that if she, her, Jenny, made love to Jed she'd get better! How dumb was that? Then Amy started telling her about her cancer, what had happened, how she was better. Jenny wondered if it could be true. It sure looked like they all believed it. Wouldn't it be nice, she thought, no more pain, Mom happy again, to go back to school, play with her friends. She wondered what it would feel like to have energy, to run endlessly, to be eight years old. She wondered what it would be like to see Mom happy, see her smile, really smile, not the fake one she used.
Would it be worth having sex with Jed?
Mom burst into tears when she agreed to try and, before she knew it, they'd left the house, leaving her alone in the kitchen.
I wandered downstairs, still sleepy, scratching my hair, following the aroma of coffee. I paused in the doorway seeing Jenny sitting at the kitchen table, elbow on the top, cheek resting in her palm as she gazed out the double doors. She reminded me of Amy, except smaller.
"Morning," I said, walking over and pouring a mug of coffee. "Where is everyone?" Her eyes seemed so large in her face when she turned to look at me, a nice small smile playing across her mouth. "Gone. Here," she said, reaching out, an envelope in it. "I am supposed to give you this."
I sat next to her, pulled out a note, read it.
It wasn't fair what Richard did. You're right to feel put out. But, look at Jenny. Look at her, Jed. Can it be wrong to try? Could you forgive yourself if you didn't try?
Amy and I have taken Shelly to stay at the hotel in town. Spend time with Jenny, Honey. Get to know her. Maybe you'll feel better about it. Maybe you'll surprise yourself.
Whatever you decide, you know you have Amy's and my love.
I looked at Jenny, sitting so quietly, cheek back on her palm as if her bald head was too heavy. I studied her small face, the button nose, large dark eyes, small mouth. She had a sadness in her eyes that tore at me, as if she was looking into the face of darkness; as if it was a familiar face. It tore at me, made me hurt.
I thought back over what Peggy had told me about loving a child that young, the physical limitations made worse by her condition. I looked at the sad acceptance in Jenny's eyes and couldn't take it, I couldn't. No matter what, as Peggy knew, I had to try. This was going to be very difficult.
"So," I started, "Is Jenny short for Jennifer?"
"Well, I think you look like a Jennifer, and I like that name more. I'm going to call you Jennifer, okay?"
She had a beautiful smile that lit up her face. I felt it hit me like Amy's had.
As Jenny held Jed's hand, walking slowly along the beach, she wondered at Jed calling her Jennifer. Only Daddy had called her that. Yet, the way he said her name was exactly the same, exactly. It almost felt like Daddy was alive again.
She liked the way he picked her up in his arms, moving her onto his shoulders, "Now you can see better," he claimed. She knew he did it because she stumbled, her knee hurting; he knew. But she liked it anyway. He didn't ask, just did it.
She was feeling achy and tired as they sat on the couch after dinner. His arm around her was so gentle, his constant chatter calming. She felt herself drift to sleep.
She was really, really surprised to wake up in his comforting arms, cool sheets against her, morning light brightening the bedroom. Laying against Jed's side, a calm descended like a comforting blanket. She heard his sleeping breath, felt soft chest hair with her hand. Laying against Jed's side, she smelled him, peace suffusing her body. She fell asleep, smiling gently. She liked Jed.
I woke to the distant sounds of winter surf through the closed balcony doors and the comforting feel of a small body next to me. Jennifer felt so delicate and small, and the image of her eyes, so sad, so resigned came back, bringing a heavy feeling with it. I mentally shrugged it off. Today I was going to charm her, see if I could get her to laugh, maybe forget for a while. Carefully, I slipped out of bed.
When the pancake hit the ceiling, her spontaneous laughter made me grin. It was so heartfelt. "Ooops! That one's yours," I claimed with a grin, eyeing with interest how it stuck to the ceiling.
"Is not! It's yours!" Jennifer said forcefully, unable to stop laughing. Jed was a bit of a goof, but his smile was so attractive. He seemed to like her even though she was too skinny and bald.
"I'll make a bet. If it falls in the next five minutes, it's yours. If it doesn't, it's mine. Okay?"
I watched Jennifer eyeing the pancake stuck to the ceiling as she ate, grinning, syrup running down her chin. Distracted by the wayward flapjack, I was very pleased to see how much she consumed. She needed the energy. Her peal of laughter when it finally fell, maybe fifteen minutes after it had made the journey to the ceiling, was totally, totally charming. Her dark eyes sparkled and for just a moment I saw a girl happy, worry free. I wanted to see her like that always. Suddenly it was imperative I see her like that, a free and easy spirit, so bright and attractive.
The weather had turned ugly overnight, dark, rain-laden clouds rolled in from the Pacific, whitecaps indicating strong gusty winds. It didn't affect us. I built a fire and we sat at the kitchen table playing card games. That ended when Jennifer cleaned me out, taking all my toothpicks with a giggle.
"You cheated," I claimed with a frown, finding it hard not to smile at her giggle.
"Did not. You can't play properly. You're pretty useless," Jennifer said, dark eyes sparkling with glee, a cute grin on her pixyish face.
"I am not! I happen to be a brilliant. . . um, a brilliant person who plays cards brilliantly, in all kinds of weather, too!"
"A what?" she asked laughing hard.
"Uh, nothing. Forget it."
We were sitting on the couch after a dinner Jennifer helped cook when she turned her head and looked up at me. Home Improvement was playing on the TV and Tim had stuck his forehead to a table somehow.
"Can we try?" Jennifer asked, somewhat hesitantly. She'd been thinking as they watched TV together. It came as a surprise. She realized she hadn't thought of her illness, or felt sad all day. Somehow she'd become absorbed in Jed. He was fun, funny in a goofy way, and he seemed to really, really like her. She could tell from his eyes that never left her, his soft smiles that made her feel good, the way he touched her, a hand on her back, a finger rubbing her cheek. She liked the way he held her close to his side, his arm around her, his warm hand on her tummy. It felt safe, secure, as if the rest of the world was somewhere else, as if her old life was someone else's.
She felt comfortable with Jed, comfortable with maybe having sex with him, especially if it would make Mom happy. It seemed right.
Jennifer's eyes lanced into me, her hesitancy clear. But along with that hesitancy I saw a small spark of excitement, a little glitter, and it sang to my heart. I saw a remarkably pretty girl, full of love and life, a girl I wanted to kiss. I did. Lifting her into my lap, caressing her soft cheek with my thumb, I held her small chin, tilting her pretty face up to me. I studied her small red lips as I bent, looked into her wide eyes and kissed her, gently, soft lips sending little chills through me.
When I pulled back I was mesmerized by her expression. Her eyes were huge, I saw wonder in them, as if she'd just seen something amazing.
"Again?" she whispered softly with what sounded like awe.
I kissed her again, feeling her press her little lips to me, closed, so chaste; incredibly arousing. When the kiss ended, Jennifer had that adorable look of wonder. She was so attractive in that moment, so attractive.
This time, when our lips touched, I hugged her tiny, slender body a bit harder, absolutely amazed that I felt a stir of arousal from small arms slipping around my neck. I never would have believed a seven year old could arouse me and yet, there was no denying the firmness I felt.
Rising, Jennifer in my arms, I carried her to the bedroom. I lay her on the bed as if she was made of china, bent over her, "Are you sure?"
Big dark eyes studied me, alluring eyes. I watched her thoughts, assessing me, debating. I saw her decide, her eyes clearing, a smile tugging at me. "Uh-huh," she said with a small nod, her arms reaching up.
We lay together, kissing gently, little murmurs. I caressed her small body, tracing her sides and her back, feeling the swell of her tiny bottom. I touched her lips with the tip of my tongue, my hand sliding up under her T-shirt to caress the skin on her back, warm and silky. Jennifer moaned slightly, her tongue emerging to touch mine.
Edging her shirt up, Jennifer raised her arms for me to slip it off. I took my shirt off. We kissed and cuddled again, stroking her petite back, cupping her tiny bottom, tongues playing. When I opened the button of her jeans, I felt a strong surge of arousal. The sound of her zipper lowering was loud in the room, very exciting, very, very erotic. I was hard as I touched her panties, the cotton so soft. I was hard as Jennifer lifted her bottom off the sheet, her dark eyes watching me so carefully. I was hard as she wiggled, helping me slip the tight jeans down, hard as she kicked them off.
Jennifer floored me when she rose to her knees at my side, pushing me onto my back. The shyness in her expression was in complete contrast to her actions. Feeling her small fingers fumble with the button on my jeans was unusually exciting. Hearing my zipper being lowered by a seven year old, thrilling.
I was caught up in watching this child, this little angel, tug and pull, inching my jeans down. There was something so sexy about it. As I kicked my jeans off to the floor, I drew Jennifer to me, hugged her carefully, her tiny body, so gaunt, felt so good. We kissed again, a delicate kiss, exciting, exploring. I cupped a sexy little bum, caressed it, loving how the soft cotton slid on sweet buttocks. I was hard, erect and throbbing when I felt her touch, tiny fingers tracing the outline in my boxers.
Rolling Jennifer onto her back, I leaned over and studied her. She was a waif, delicate, fragile. Her large eyes with their look of wonder were incredibly attractive. Jennifer was so, so pretty, a darling, an angel in my eyes.
"Are you sure, Sweetheart?" I asked, knowing I wanted to make love to her, I wanted to.
Her shy smile stabbed me. "Uh-huh. I want to try."
My hand trembled as it slid down her tummy. I bent and kissed tiny nipples, shuddering as my palm held a rounded mound, her small pussy rising majestically at her groin. We kissed again, a sexy, sexy kiss. It sounded like Jennifer purred as I caressed her pussy, tracing her small cleft down. Precum dampened my boxers when she parted her small legs, inviting my touch. I was very aroused by her.
"You're beautiful, Jennifer," I whispered, her bashful smile breaking my heart, "Gorgeous, an angel."
This angel, this beautiful child, pulled my wrist up, her hands holding mine, guiding it. I felt her pull her tummy in and shuddered when she slipped my hand under the waist of her cotton panties, the act so trusting, so seductive. My heart was pounding as she pushed my hand down and suddenly I was cupping her bare pubis, a glorious little mound hot in my hand. I explored carefully, tracing the deep crevasses at the sides, explored how plump her labia felt, large between small thighs.
Pulling my hand out reluctantly, I shucked my boxers, let her study my erection as I slipped sexy little cotton undies down, revealing the magnificence of her prepubescent pubis, a seductive mound rising from her tummy. Her tiny cleft was short, closed, tightly closed.
"I'm going to make you slippery, okay?" I said.
Drawing precum from my erection, her dark eyes riveted on my every move, I spread it along her cleft, rubbing it in, watching as plump labia spread around my finger. I felt her twitch when my fingertip touched a tiny bead, her clitoris.
Caressing her slit gently, we kissed, Jennifer responding with little movements, wriggling slightly. When her arms went back to my neck, pulling me to her mouth, her little tongue teasing, I slipped my fingertip down through her slit, probing for her opening gently. God, she was tiny, tiny.
Distracting her, I hoped, with a more passionate kiss, probing into her small mouth, I pushed my fingertip to her tiny vaginal opening, moving it in circles, pushing gently, stretching her. I went back to her tiny clitoris, a hard little bead now, rubbing it, waiting for her push against me. When she started moving her pelvis, pushing against my caress, her arms tightening around my neck, I returned to her tiny opening, probing gently, pushing, circling. Slowly, slowly, I felt my fingertip slide deeper. I felt her hymen melt away, the tip of my finger clasped in an incredible warm moist, silky grip.
God she was tight. But I rejoiced. It felt like she hadn't noticed, or if she had, it hadn't been painful. Quickly I collected some more precum, spread it in her small slit, and started fondling her, letting my finger slide over the bump of her clit, slip down and slid into her silky pussy, then reverse.
Jennifer started breathing through her nose harder, her small tongue stopped moving as she became distracted by the sensations below. Her lips broke away from mine as she sighed, hips curling up, pushing my finger deeper into her tight, tight vagina.
I kissed her tiny nipples, stroking her pussy, waiting, waiting. When I heard her tender moan, felt her twitch, her tight pussy clench, I knew it was time. Rising I settled between her small legs, resting my butt on my heels. Placing her thighs over mine, her small slit still closed, just her clitoris peeking out, I bent and kissed her.
"Jennifer," I whispered to her, "You have a beautiful body. I want you so much."
Her smile, her blush was so, so attractive. She was such a pretty girl, I thought. Dark alluring eyes tugged at my heart, small arms reached. I kissed her again, guiding my straining erection to her pussy, moaning at the soft touch of her labia. I used the tip of my erection to tickle her clit, precum slickening her. As we kissed, her arms holding tight, I felt her move her pussy, sliding it up and down, rubbing herself on me.
Slowly my crown started sliding between her lips, sliding up and down, catching at her perineum. I held my hard, hard erection in place, still kissing her sweet lips, and pushed slightly, shuddering at the feel of labia parting, oozing over my crown.
My heart was pounding; I felt fear and desire coursing through me. And, in the most exquisitely gentle motion, Jennifer's pussy stretched, my crown sinking. I felt every millimeter of her opening move down over the flared head, gripping, tight, tight. Breath exploded from both of us when it popped in. She was painfully tight.
"Okay?" I asked breathlessly.
Dark seductive eyes looked into me, a smile growing. "Uh-huh. It's big."
I smiled, kissed her nipples and straightened up, reaching to caress her clitoris. The sight that greeted me when I looked down sent shudders through me. Jennifer's little cleft was spread obscenely by my erection. I couldn't believe it didn't hurt. My penis filled her slit and, God she was so, so tight.
"Are you sure you're okay, Honey?" I asked, not believing she could be.
She glanced down, looked back up at me, eyes glistening. Incredibly I saw excitement grow. "Can it go in more?"
Absolutely not, was my first thought. And I watched, stunned, as she pushed, using her legs at my back, my erection slipping in another inch, tight, God, so tight. I watched, riveted, frozen, as she pushed again, three inches disappearing. Unbelievable. Suddenly rational thought returned. I pulled back until the ridge of my crown oozed out, pushed, slipping in, easier now with precum lubricating her, my erection swelling.
Leaning over her tiny body, holding myself off her with elbows on the mattress, I started to slip in, slide out, moving my hips gently. It was exquisite torture, her pussy so tight. Jennifer held my chest, moved her bottom, pushing her sexy pussy at me. We started a gentle rhythm, sliding in, slipping out, so tight, a velvet glove.
I heard her moan and looked down; dark eyes shining at me, a soft smile of pleasure curling her lips. I watched entranced as this seven year old angel's body moved, feeling three inches slipping into her. I was riveted by her eyes as I saw passion appear while I gently thrust into her small body. I was amazed when her eyes clouded, a frown appearing. Her eyelids descended and Jennifer let out a small cry of pleasure, jerked under me, cried out again, body arching, shoving her pussy against me. I felt her little legs tighten around me. Watching Jennifer climax was amazing and, as she cried out again, I climaxed, erection swelling, semen burning up my shaft and exploding into her. A huge wave of pleasure pounded my body. I heaved again, semen charging up, the sweet ecstasy of release flooding me as semen blasted into her tight clenching vagina. I heaved again, semen spurting, felt it squirt out from her pussy. I hunched and heaved spurting in exquisite pleasure, cumming beautif ully in this angel, cumming beautifully, cumming, cumming.
I opened my eyes to bright sun in the bedroom, Amy's soft brown eyes glowing as she leaned over me, her smile killing me. Turning, I saw the bed empty next to me, looked at Amy with questions in my eyes.
"She's gone, Jed," Amy said softly. "Her mom came and collected her from your bed. You should have seen how beautiful Jenny's smile was, how they held each other and cried. It was so touching."
"But. . ."
"Shhh," Amy whispered, her finger touching my lips. She kissed me lightly.
I watched Amy slip out of her clothes, so petite and sexy, her willowy body so alluring. I gathered her in my arms when she slipped under the sheet, hugged her tight, caressed a small silky buttock, drew Amy's scent deep into my lungs. The loss I felt for Jennifer was mild, just a small ache in my heart. Amy filled me, made me whole. "I love you," I whispered.
Peggy stood in the doorway, smiling in approval at the sight of Amy snuggling into Jed's side. In her bones she knew Jed had given Jenny and her mother a precious gift, the gift of time; the same gift he'd given Amy. She saw Jed notice her standing at the door. She saw his sexy smile, watched as he raised the sheet on his other side in invitation. A little flush of pleasure flowed through her. Reaching for the button of her jeans, her smile broadened into a grin.
Keep up the fantastic writing, because even the people that don't review think it's amazing.
I've actually had the same idea for a story, where a 'Make-a-Wish' type of place is asked to fill an unusual request from a young girl. It's at the bottom of my to-do list, and is only a couple of paragraphs outlining the premise.
Wow! Absolutely beautiful, absolutely heartwarming, absolutely incredible! Well done!
We need to rekindle (FREEDOMS FIRE)before the theist fascist kill our AMERICA/
I hope you'll consider a sequel to this one. Amy and Jed should really get married, for one thing.
Perhaps a do-gooder social worker could catch wind of what's going on and come intending to bust the pervert, but then get converted to the cause. It is fantasy, right?
Loved everything I have read from you so far.
Authors love hearing from their fans.