Jan by Dorsai

Copyright (c) 2003 - Dorsai


LEGAL DISBLAMER This is a dirty, nasty, *filthy* story – or some people
would have you believe. If you’re old enough to read it in your area,
make up your own mind. If you’re not ‘of age’, then you’re not
_supposed_ to be reading this stuff. Don’t get caught – I won’t accept
the blame.

INFORMATION You can get a copy of this story in text and .pdf (Adobe
Acrobat) formats, and my other stories, at the alt.sex.stories text
repository at www.asstr.org under my Author name of Dorsai. Or, if you
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copyright notice is retained. This story is NOT FOR SALE at any time, by
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Paul and I had been friends for years - long enough that he and I had
spent enough time together that his kids called me"Uncle Dan", even
though they knew I wasn't related. Several years before, he had divorced
from his wife, on grounds of 'incompatibility'. The divorce was
relatively amicable, and when his wife decided to move to another state,
he got custody of the kids.

There were 3 of them: Jan (whom I called 'Trouble', because she never
was), 14, was cute as the proverbial bug's ear at about 5 foot 6 inches
tall, 80 to 90 pounds, and with a slender - but nicely curved - build.
Leo, at 10, was undoubtedly the smartest of the bunch (prompting me to
call him 'Brainiac'), which sometimes got him into trouble. Finally,
there was John (who earned the nickname of 'Goober'), at 7, and
something of a little hellion.

Paul and I were close enough that he trusted me to watch out for the
kids when he had to make a trip out of town. Fortunately, the kids
*knew* that he loved them more than anything else in the world, and that
his trips were a part of what he did to make sure they had the things
they needed. These trips were of varying lengths, due to his job as a
truly exceptional salesman - he made damn good money from his
commissions. Looking after the kids usually just involved getting them
to and from the Catholic school they attended, making sure they ate
properly, and infrequently, getting someone to a volleyball (Jan),
soccer (John), or Karate (Leo) session. Surprisingly, they got along
reasonably well - only rarely was it necessary to break up any arguments
or (even rarer) an actual fight. The kids and I were close enough, in
fact, that they frequently came to me with questions or problems they
didn't think they could take to Paul. Paul and I had talked about it,
and he didn't have any problem with me giving them suggestions and
advice. He wasn't real happy about it, but realized that it was better
the kids go to someone he trusted, than not have their questions or
problems settled at all.

It was while Paul was on one of his weekend trips that I got my first
good look at Jan. Paul had left early Saturday, and asked me to stop in
that morning to get the kids up. I started, as usual, with Jan. By
waking her first, she'd be able to help with getting things going and
organized while I tried to raise the boys from the dead (right sound
sleepers, they were). I knocked on her door, and after not hearing
anything for a few seconds, opened it - only to be greeted with the
sight of Jan holding her right breast (about the size of half an orange,
with a light brown nipple) with her right hand, and with her left hand
buried in her (lightly brown-furred) crotch. It was only a moment before
she realized she wasn't alone (barely time enough for the door to open),
and when her eyes opened and she saw me, she gave a little squeak, and
snatched the bedcovers over herself. I quickly apologized for disturbing
her, and said that I'd only wanted to wake her up for breakfast. That
said, I apologized again, and closed the door, heading off to wake the
boys.

As I was trying to get the boys up, I heard her take care of her morning
ablutions; she was in the kitchen getting herself some breakfast by the
time I finally got Leo and John moving.

When I entered, she looked at me, started blushing, and began acting
very nervous. I figured she was just embarrassed, and figured the best
thing I could do was to simply ignore it for the moment, and got myself
a cup of coffee (ah, the nectar of life!).

About that time, the boys made their appearance, and breakfast started
with the usual minor bickering and indecision on the boys' part.
Finally, though, breakfast was done, and Leo and John headed off to the
local park in search of something to do.

Jan was cleaning the kitchen as I cleared the table, and I noticed that
she was still rather nervous - frequent glances at me, starting to speak
several times before stopping herself, and so on. I finally asked her if
she would sit down at the table with me for a moment - which resulted in
her looking both relieved, and even more nervous or frightened.

When I'd gotten a refill, and she was seated, I started out by telling
her "Jan, I'm sorry I disturbed you this morning. I knocked, and didn't
hear any answer, so I thought it was okay to come in; I didn't know you
were busy." - which earned me the brightest blush I'd ever seen.

I followed up by saying "There's nothing for you to be embarrassed
about; that's something that everybody does. I'm just sorry that I
interrupted you, and embarrassed you. Next time, I'll knock louder, and
wait a bit longer before opening the door."

That got me another blush (not so much this time), and Jan started to
reply before stopping herself.

"What? Did you want to say something?" I asked.

She was staring into her lap, and hesitated a moment before answering,
"You mean that you're not mad? You're not going to tell Daddy or Father
Thomas at school?"

Surprised, I said "No, why would I be mad? Like I said, it's something
everybody does. And why would I want to tell your dad or Father Thomas?"

"Because Father Thomas and the nuns say that's a sin." She replied.

"Jan, what you were doing is called masturbation. Maybe the church calls
it a sin, but I - and a lot of other people - don't think of it that
way, at all. It's something that everybody has done at some point in
their lives; usually when they're about the same age you are now. Maybe
the church doesn't like it, but that's not something I want to argue
about."

"You mean it's not a sin?"

"No, I didn't say that. I'm saying that I don't agree with the church:
they say it's a sin and can cause bad things to happen. I don't think
that way about it. If Father Thomas had seen you, he would have a
different opinion, I expect; but it was ME that interrupted you, and I'M
telling you that *I* don't think you were doing anything wrong. In case
you hadn't noticed, I've told you that I'm sorry for _disturbing_ you -I
don't think that's what someone would say if they thought what you were
doing was bad, or a sin, right?"

She smiled (and blushed) a bit, and answered, "No, I guess not. But why
do Father Thomas and the nuns tell us not to do that, then?"

"Jan, you know that there are things about being Catholic that are
different from the ways of other churches, right?"

"Well, yeah."

"This is one of those things that the church decided, probably a long
time ago, and I suspect that they've been saying it for so long that
they couldn't change it now, even if they wanted to. If you want to know
why the church thinks it's a sin, you'll have to ask Father Thomas or
one of the nuns. I promise you, *I* sure as heck don't know!"

She smiled again, and told me "I don't understand a lot of the stuff
that they tell us - and they don't hardly tell us _anything_!"

"What do you mean 'anything'?"

"Well, like about sex and stuff. I mean, they just tell us don't do it
until you're married, but they don't say WHY. I didn't even understand
for the longest time that what I was doing" - another blush -"was the
'masturbation' they were talking about."

"Jan, don't they have any kind of sex education or classes about your
body at school?"

"Not really. I mean, they showed us a couple of little movies that told
us boys were different from girls, and a little bit of how, but they
didn't actually *tell* us anything we didn't already know."

"Do you at least know the names of the parts and all that?" I asked.

"Um, no, not much."

I sighed. Why is it so many so-called adults are so willing to treat
teenagers like kids, and then complain that that's what they act like?
How are kids supposed to LEARN if nobody's willing to not only tell
them, but *teach* them, and _explain_ to them?

I asked, "Okay, do you want to learn? Do you want to know what is going
on, and how your body works, and all that?"

"Um, well, yeah. But I'd be too ashamed to have to actually *ask*
anybody."

"You don't have to ask anyone, Jan. I can get you started on the
Internet, and you can find out about anything you want to know without
being afraid or ashamed. Would you like that?"

"Yeah! Can we?"

"Sure, no problem."

Jan paused a moment, and then asked "But what about Daddy? Isn't he
going to know what I'm looking at?"

"No, I can fix that. I'll just set you up with your own password on the
computer, and have the computer hide everything you look at. You know
your dad and computers - he'll never know a thing!"

She laughed at that, and agreed "Yeah, sometimes me or Leo have to show
him how to do something. Okay, that'll work. When can I start?"

"Well, you finish up the kitchen while I get the computer set up. When
you're done, I'll show you a couple of places you can start, and then
leave you alone. Will that work?"

"Sure!"

With that, she headed back into the kitchen while I headed for the
computer they kept in the den. It only took me a couple of minutes to
set her up, and perhaps another 5 to find a couple of good web sites for
her to start with. I was just finishing up when she came in and stood
next to me.

"Just about done." I told her. "Let me get this last site added to your
bookmarks, and you're all set."

A moment later, I stood up, and gestured for her to take a seat.

Once she was ready, I explained what I had done, and how she could go
about learning almost anything she wanted to about the human body - male
or female - as well as introductory material about human sexuality
(particularly regarding teens). She caught on quickly enough, and with a
comment from me to let me know if she had any questions or problems, I
left her to her reading and surfing.

Later that afternoon, she came into the living room where I was
listening to some classical music on the stereo. She sat down in a
chair, across from the end of the couch that I was laying on, half
asleep.

"Uncle Dan, I want to ask you something."

"Sure, go ahead. If I don't know, we'll find the answer together."

"Well, first, I want to thank you for showing me that stuff. I couldn't
ask *Daddy*, and Father Thomas or the nuns would only get mad at me."

"No problem. Let's just not go telling everyone who set you up for that
stuff, OK? You dad is my friend, and I don't know how much he would
appreciate _me_ showing you that stuff. And Father Thomas and the nuns
would probably pitch a fit and start praying at me!" I joked.

Seriously, she told me "Don't worry, I won't. Is it okay if I tell some
of my friends about this, though? There are a lot of us that don't know
any of this stuff."

"Well, I suppose that would be okay, IF you're careful about who you
tell, and don't bring me into it. I imagine that some of the parents
would be a little upset with me if they knew where their girls were
getting the information."

"Sure, that's no problem. I wouldn't do anything to get you in trouble
after you've done so much to help me."

"So, what's the question? You did say that you wanted to ask me
something." I said.

"Well, actually, it's a couple of things."

"Okay, then, start with the first one, and we'll go from there." I
answered.

"Um, well, some of those places talked about something called an
'orgasm' or 'climax', and I think I know that it's something good, but
I'm not real sure what it is."

Hoo-boy. What have I gotten myself into?

"Jan, I'm not quite sure how to explain it to you. Physically, an orgasm
is the body's response to sexual stimulation. Emotionally, it's
something else."

"You mean that when I touch myself - I mean, masturbate - that's an
orgasm?"

(MY turn to blush. Yes, I still can.)

"No, Jan, I don't think so. I expect that what you were feeling was
'just' arousal, or stimulation. I don't think there would have been any
doubts if you had ever had an orgasm."

"Oh. Then what does an orgasm feel like?"

(Shit.)

Nothing to do but continue "Well, it's different for men and women, for
obvious reasons. For men, climax is when they are stimulated enough to
ejaculate their sperm into the woman. I have no idea of what it feels
like for women, except to use a description I read that is supposedly
from the French - they call it 'the little death'."

"Oh. Well, you're a man; have you ever climaxed?"

(Is it me, or is it getting warm in here?)

"Yes, I've had climaxes before. Remember, I was married before, and my
wife and I had sex many times." (no need to bring up the Navy days)

"What is it like?"

(Whose bright idea was this, anyway? Bastard should be shot!)

"I don't know that it's anything that I could really describe to you.
It's not that I'm not willing" - like hell! -"it's just that there
simply aren't the words. Remember that definition I told you? That's
about as close as I could get, without taking several hours and a whole
lot of words."

"Okay, I guess."

"Trust me, Jan - I don't think that it's going to be too long before you
know for yourself what it's like. And when you do, you'll understand why
it's so hard for me to describe. Okay?"

"Yeah, I suppose. You said that it was one thing, physically, and
something else, emotionally. You can't tell me what it is physically, so
can you tell me what it's like emotionally?"

"Well, I can tell you what *I* think it's about. If you check around,
you can probably find some more answers, too."

"I will, but I'd like to know what *you* think."

"For starters, I think of the sex act as being something different from
the act of making love."

"What do you mean? Aren't they the same thing?"

"Physically - I mean, as far as the physical act - yes, they are usually
the same. But emotionally - in my heart - they are two *very* different
things. I suppose you could think of them this way: sex is the physical
act, and making love is the emotional joining."

"I kinda see what you're saying."

"Okay, how about this: sex is what two animals do to make more animals;
the whole biblical go-forth-and-multiply thing. Making love is when two
people join in the physical act of sharing their hearts with each
other."

"Okay, I understand that."

"Now, here's the tricky part: sex can be as simple as two dogs making
new puppies, or as complicated as a boyfriend and girlfriend
relationship. Making love usually means the physical act, but there can
be a making of love without the physical joining."

"I'm confused, now. How does that work? And what's the difference?"

"For the sex part, it's a matter of how *each* of them cares for the
other. If they like each other enough, they can join in physical
pleasure without getting their hearts involved - kind of like helping
each other feel good." - a smile from her - "Making love is something
else. Suppose that a woman was married to a man that had been hurt in
such a way that he was physically unable to have sex with her. But,
because he has given his heart - his love - to her, he may find another
way to bring her physical pleasure. To me, taking a physical action to
make another person happy, _without worrying about your own pleasure or
satisfaction_ is what 'making love' is all about. Got it?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think so. But what is love?"

(Damn! And I thought I was gonna get away clean!)

I answered with "I don't think there's one answer that would make
everybody happy - I expect that there are as many opinions on that as
there are people. For me, though, it's when another person means as
much, or more, to you than yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"How about an example. If Leo or John was inside a burning house, would
you try to rescue them, even if it meant you might get hurt?"

"Of course!"

"THAT is love. Now, that doesn't mean that because you love them you
would want to have sex with them, only that the _emotional_ bond is
there. Understand?"

"Yeah. But how is that love different from physical love?"

"You've got several friends, right?"

"Yeah"

"Do you like ALL of them _exactly_ the same way, and for the same
reason?"

"No, of course not."

"It's the same thing with love. The way that you love your dad is
different than the way you love your brothers is different than the way
you would love someone that you would make love with."

"Okay, I kinda get it now."

"Well, if you kinda get it, then you're doing a whole lot better than
most people: there are a lot of people out in the world that get
physical love and emotional love mixed up, and spend a lot of their
lives being unhappy, and making others even more unhappy." I replied.

"Is that why Daddy and Mom divorced?"

(Ahhhhhh, *SHIT!*)

"No, I don't think so. Have you ever stopped being friends with someone?
Not because of something that anyone did, but because it just sort of
happened?"

"Yeah."

"I expect that it's the same with your mom and dad. They loved each
other a lot, but they just couldn't stay happy with each other. It's
like a grown-up version of the problems that you have with Lou and John:
you love them, but sometimes they just make you crazy, right?"

A laugh. "Yeah, sometimes."

"Same thing with your mom and dad. Sometimes your mom did stuff that
made your dad crazy, and sometimes it was the other way around. Most of
the time, they loved each other enough to forgive the craziness, but
after a while, they decided that they would rather love each other, and
be divorced, than stay married and make each other crazy."

"Okay, I understand. Right after the divorce, I worried sometimes that
maybe it was something I did, or that Leo and John were doing."

"Jan, don't ever think like that. You're a good person, and I can
promise you that I've talked to your mom and dad enough to know that
their divorce had absolutely nothing to do with your or your brothers -
other than BOTH of them wanted to make sure that you were all happy, and
knew that they both love you, and were taken care of properly."

"Thanks, Dan. I feel a lot better about it, now. Is it okay if I get on
the computer again?"

"Sure, Trouble. The boys won't be home from the park for a while, and
there's no reason you shouldn't."

When Paul got back from his trip, he and I were sitting on the patio
having a beer when I told him that Jan had asked me some questions about
sex and human anatomy. He wanted to know what I told her, and I
explained to him what I'd done - without bothering him with the details
of how the situation came up. He wasn't happy about being locked out of
her Internet usage on the subject, but when I pointed out that if she
thought he could watch, she wouldn't look at _anything_ - and stay
ignorant, and thus more likely to find herself in 'trouble'. That seemed
to placate him, and he thanked me for not only helping her, but also
letting him know what was going on. I suggested that he tell her that
we'd talked, and that he was okay with it, which he agreed to.

It was a week or so before Paul got the nerve up to talk to Jan. A
couple of days later, I was invited to join them for steaks from the
grill.

Jan met me in the den, and gave me a strange look before asking, "Did
you tell Daddy what we talked about the other day?"

"No, I didn't tell him _what_ we talked about - only that we DID talk,
and the general subject."

"I don't know if I like that."

"Well, Trouble, you've got to understand that your dad is my friend. I
wasn't real comfortable about helping you that way without his
knowledge. At the same time, I wasn't going to do anything to break the
trust YOU showed me. This just seemed like a good way to get him
involved - which I think you would agree he *should* be - without
getting you in trouble, or having him upset with me. Nothing has
changed, other than the fact that now he *knows* that you're learning
about the general subject of sex education. He still doesn't know what
you're looking at or learning - just like I don't. The only thing that's
different is that now we don't have to worry about hiding something from
him. I'd say that was a good thing, wouldn't you?"

"Well, yeah, I suppose. I guess that's okay, then. Do you tell him about
everything, though?"

"No, just about the stuff that I think is really, really important, and
that I think he needs to know about. That's why I only told him that we
had talked about the general subject of sex, but not any of the details.
I think you'll also be happy to know that HOW we got onto the subject
wasn't mentioned," I added, smiling.

She turned only a little pink, and replied "Yeah, I kinda figured you
didn't say anything about *that*. From the way he acted, I don't think
he could have talked to me at all, if he knew!"

"Trouble, I want you to know that you can trust me not to tell your dad
about _everything_ we talk about. And if there is something I *must*
tell him, I'm not going to spill any secrets - I'll only say as much as
I absolutely have to. I hope you can see that from the way I talked to
him."

"Sure, I can understand that. I do trust you; I was just surprised by
it, was all."

"Okay, how about if there's something I think I need to tell your dad, I
say so to you, first? Then we can agree on how much and what I can tell
him, so that you're not surprised again."

"That sounds okay." She answered. After a little pause, she added,
"Yeah, I can live with that. Sometimes I have to tell to Daddy about
stuff I hear Leo or John talking about, so I think I understand what
you're saying."

"Fair enough. If you're happy, then I'm happy. Let's go burn a cow!"

With that, we headed out to the patio.

A couple of weeks went by before Paul had to go on another out of town
trip. I was again the Designated Authority Figure, this time on a
Tuesday, after school had let out.

The kids were okay to leave for a few hours at a time, so I was able to
get some work done during the day, after stopping by around mid-morning;
still, I made sure and got to their place about mid to late afternoon.
As an engineering consultant and designer, I usually have enough slack
that taking time for such things isn't a problem.

I found a note that the boys had gone off to the local park for a
baseball game; a little noise revealed that Jan was in the den in front
of the computer.

As I moved up next to her, she looked up at me, but continued reading
the web page she had up. A brief look revealed that it was something
involving how quickly breasts grew on teen females. With extreme
casualness, I made my way over to the stereo, and asked Jan if it would
bother her if I listened to some music. A quick shake of her head, and I
soon had some Mozart playing while I read a technical magazine I'd
received that day.

The next thing that I noticed was the sound of a small riot approaching
the den: Leo and John were back, demanding to be fed, and *right now*. I
looked up to see Jan shutting down the computer; then we both got up and
headed toward the kitchen to prepare supper. During the meal - spaghetti
with meatballs, garlic bread, and salad - I noticed that Jan kept
looking at me. I discretely checked to make sure that I'd shaved, my fly
was zipped up, that I didn't have a spaghetti noodle stuck to my
forehead, and so on.

After supper, the boys headed in to the living room for a rousing game
of Nintendo while Jan and I cleared the table, and cleaned the kitchen.
As we were finishing, Jan asked me if she could talk to me for a minute.
I agreed, and suggested Cokes at the dining table.

When we were seated, I just looked at her, and raised my eyebrow.

She started off with the big guns: "Dan, do you think my breasts are too
small?"

"Why, do you?" I asked, trying for time to think.

"I don't know. A lot of the other girls at school have bigger ones, and
I wonder if I don't need some kind of shots or something."

"Jan, I'm sure you've noticed that women have all different sizes of
breasts - some larger, some smaller, most in-between. You're only 14..."

"Almost 15!"

"Almost 15, and I think your breasts are just the size they need to be -
for YOU."

"But don't you think they should be bigger?"

"Trouble, I think they fit you just fine."

That earned me a dirty look before she said, "I didn't ask if you
thought they fit okay, I asked if you thought they should be bigger."

"Jan, why are you asking me this? I mean, _really_?"

She hesitated a bit, before answering with "I heard some of the boys at
school talking, and they all wanted to go out with one girl that has
really large ones. I thought if mine were bigger, they'd want to go out
with me, too. I want to be pretty, like she is."

"Trouble, I think what you were hearing was just hormones talking in
those guys. Do you think your mom is pretty?"

"Sure!"

"But she doesn't have a large bust, does she?"

"Well, no."

"Stop and think about it for a bit: think of all the movie actresses
that are so popular. How many of them have large busts, and how many are
small-to-medium sized? And think carefully about what you hear guys say
about the girls with the really large breasts, and look at the women
that *most* men choose to be their wives. It's the difference between
lusting after the unusual, and loving the realistic."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Trust me on this one, Trouble: You look just fine, and I don't think
you're going to have any problems finding a boy that agrees with me."

That seemed to comfort her, and we went into the living room to watch TV
while Leo and John electronically mangled and mutilated each other in
the den. Before long, it was time for them to go to bed, and not much
later, Jan left, as well.

Imagine my surprise when, a few minutes later, Jan joined me in the
living room again - wearing her bathrobe. I pretended not to notice, and
she sat down at the opposite end of the couch from me. I could see that
she had something on her mind, but was willing to let her pick her own
time and place to say her piece.

First one program finished, then another. Finally, though, I could see
her turn to me. I waited until she cleared her throat before taking
notice. When I did turn and look at her, she hesitated a moment before
speaking.

"I've been thinking about what you said about women, and their breasts."

"Yeah?"

"I think you're probably right."

"Thank you."

"But I'm still not sure about *my* breasts. I don't know if they look
okay, or not."

"Jan, from where I sit, I think they look just fine."

With that, she seemed to reach a decision - the decision to open her
robe, and show me her bare chest.

What I saw was a pair of smallish - each about the size of half an
orange, or perhaps a bit larger - breasts, gently rounded, and capped
with freckle-brown areolas and pencil-eraser-sized (and obviously erect)
nipples.

I looked up at her face, and saw a mixture of emotions on it - fear of
rejection, embarrassment, and a bit of arousal. I raised an eyebrow in
question, and got a nod in permission to look more closely.

Moving carefully and slowly, I slid a bit closer, and leaned forward a
little for a closer look. What I saw was a slight crinkling of her
areola and nipples as her arousal grew - along with a slight, faint
dusting of freckles across the upper slopes of her breasts. Otherwise,
her skin was flawless: a warm, rosy pink, without blemishes. She
shivered a bit, and I could see the ever-so-slight jiggle of firm,
young, female flesh. When I looked up again (after trying to memorize
the sight!), she had a nervous - but questioning - look on her face.

I slid back to my end of the couch, and smiled at her, before telling
her "I was right - from where I sit, they look just fine. Better than
that, they look delightful! What you might think you lack in quantity,
you more than make up for in quality."

She looked relieved, and closed her robe - something I must confess I
regretted.

With her robe closed, she looked at me again, blushed slightly, and
said, "Okay, I guess now I can believe you."

I laughed briefly, and asked her "What? Is this a face that would lie to
you?" gesturing to my own face.

She giggled, and headed back to her room.

I have to admit that the view she'd given me stimulated me - but not
enough to follow up on it. Understand, I enjoy pretty young girls as
much as anyone else - but this was my best friend's daughter, only 14
years old, and someone that I'd grown fond of, in an Uncle-like way. I
wasn't about to do anything to frighten or otherwise disturb her - never
mind anything that would alienate her dad, my friend. All I could do was
remember it (with fondness!), without any plan or hope that things would
go any farther.

Several weeks went by before Paul had to go on any more road trips.
During that time, he and I got together several times to have a couple
beers, watch a game on TV, or even play a little (bad) golf. As was
usually the case, our conversations varied in subject: anything from
what the lugnuts in Congress were doing to screw up the country, to
(only slightly exaggerated) stories from our youth, to how the kids were
doing. On that last subject he once asked me if I had any idea of how
Jan was doing on her sex ed stuff on the Net. I honestly told him that
I'd made her stuff hidden, and that I really had no idea what she was
looking at or learning - and pointed out that I suspected that neither
one of particularly *wanted* to know, when it got right down to it. That
earned me a wry laugh, along with his agreement.

When he finally did have to leave, though, it was a doozy: 3 full days,
and most of a fourth, in late June.

I had just finished a big project, and had several days before I needed
to start on the next one, so Paul and I agreed that I would just go
ahead and stay at his place. It simplified the logistics, and most
important, didn't leave the kids without someone to turn to in case
there were any problems. As usual on his multi-day trips, he had
promised the kids that he'd call each night to talk to them.

Things went along just fine - all the kids had something to do during
the day, so I only had to make a couple of pickups and deliveries of
warm bodies. That meant that I was able to take a couple of naps, and
just generally laze about. Even the evenings went well, at first. The
boys would get wrapped up in a movie on cable TV, and by the time it
ended, they were ready - if not necessarily willing - for bed. Jan would
have a friend or two over (with her dad's permission and my approval),
and they'd normally spend most of the evening in her room, chattering
about teenage girl stuff (boys, clothes, boys, school, boys, and
whatever else they could think of). I'd either watch TV with Leo and
John, read a book, or just sit outside on the patio with a beer, and
watch the world go by.

It wasn't until the last evening - before Paul was to get home - that
things changed.

To start with, each of the boys had been invited to spend the night with
one of their friends, with them to be returned early the following
morning. Paul had Okayed it, so I was fine with it, as well. It was a
relatively quick trip to get each of them delivered to the appropriate
place - along with a (possibly futile) admonition to behave themselves.

When I got back from that, Jan quietly informed me that her friend had
called to cancel a visit. I asked her what she was going to do, and she
shocked me by saying that she hoped she could have a talk with me about
some of the stuff that she'd learned on the Internet. I wasn't real
happy about the idea, but determined to 'be there' for her when she
needed someone, so I agreed.

After a little fiddling around, we got settled in the den, with each of
us at opposite ends of a large couch.

The conversation started out mildly enough - her wanting to verify some
of what she'd read on the sites she'd visited: slang terms for
anatomical parts, and so on. I think both of us blushed more than once,
at first, before we simply hit some kind of 'intimacy overload', and the
terms just became more words.

Things started to heat up, though, when she started asking me if I'd
ever done any of the things she'd read about: oral sex, anal sex, mutual
masturbation, and such. I have to admit that I was a little
uncomfortable discussing it with her (mostly because of her age, though
a little because of the previous views I'd had of her, as well). I did
concede to pretty much most of the stuff she'd read about (which,
happily, hadn't been all *that* much!), and when pressed, provided
explanations and details of the acts - though not the time or
circumstances. (How do you explain a 19-year-old sailor stationed
overseas renting 3 bar girls - all at the same time - for a long
weekend? Particularly to your best friends young daughter? Yeah, it was
fun (!!), but how do you *explain* it?)

I could tell from the expression(s) on her face as I was talking that
she wasn't any too sure about some of what I was saying. But, when she
asked even more explicit questions, I answered as honestly and
completely as I could.

Finally, there came the questions I least wanted to hear: the ones about
*her*, and what _she_ was experiencing. Again, it was the combination of
her age and being my best friends daughter that was throwing me off -but
I didn't see any choice but to 'soldier on'. After all, it was me that
got her started on this stuff, so it was up to me to see it through.

She told me about how she sometimes got a 'funny feeling' between her
legs, where her vagina was (it helped that we were using medical-type
terms). She told me how sometimes she would 'just start thinking about
boys', and her nipples would get hard, and sometimes show through her
blouse or shirt. She told me how sometimes, when she was going to start
her period, she would start getting a strange 'empty feeling' between
her legs, and her vagina would get so wet that it would make her panties
damp. She told me how she would sometimes daydream, and wake up to find
herself squeezing her thighs together because it felt good where her
clitoris was. She told me that she would sometimes wake up in the
morning with her hand pressed against her vagina and clitoris, and her
pajama bottoms would be soaked with her 'wetness'. After each of these
'revelations', I'd try to reassure her that what she was experiencing
was a perfectly normal part of becoming a sexually aware and sexually
mature young lady - despite the increase in my arousal (concealed as
best I could) at hearing about each of them.

She had one last thing, though, that completely threw me for a loop:

"Uncle Dan, I think the thing that bothers me the most is that I don't
really *know* what naked people look like."

"Excuse me? You don't know what the parts are on boys? Didn't you give
your brothers baths when they were younger? You can't see what's what on
the other girls in your gym class at school, when you take showers?
Didn't those Web sites have diagrams or pictures on them?"

"Yes to all of that - except that it's just not the _same_."

"In what way?"

"Well, for instance, I kinda know what girls look like down there, but I
don't know what *I* look like - not really. I know what _boys_ look
like, but I don't think Leo and John are quite the same as a real man -
like you, for instance."

I found that I had one blush left in me - fortunately, the lights
weren't that bright, so I don't *think* she noticed.

"So why are you telling me this, then?" Please, God, no, not what I
think she's thinking...

"I want you to show me."

Fine, God, be like that. Screw me over. Again.

"Um, show you _what_? Which one did you want? Not that it matters, since
your dad would kill one or both of us in either case." I replied.

"Well, actually, I was hoping I could learn, um, both, if you could. I
know that Daddy might not like it, but I *really* want to know, and it's
not like we'd, um, actually, um, *do* anything, um, you know?" she
blurted.

"Jan, I *really* don't think that would be a good idea. I mean, if you
want to find out what YOU look like, you could just use a mirror or
something, you know? As for what an older boy looks like, I think you
could probably find a volunteer or two that were closer to your age at
school."

"I know that I could use a mirror, but it's just not the same - I mean,
all I could do would be compare myself to some general drawing, and I'd
never know if I was, like, *weird* or something down there. I mean, you
made me feel better about my, um, breasts that time, so I don't
understand why you can't do the same thing now - you know, between my
legs. And if I ever looked at one of the boys at school, he'd tell
*everybody* that I did it, even if he didn't say I did more. You _know_
how much trouble I'd be in if that happened."

Thinking back to when I was that age, I could easily understand her
point about the boys at school. As for the other, I found myself in a
real quandary: as reluctant as I was to do anything that would piss of
her dad or screw up her mind about sex, there was a certain desire (!!)
to get another - even better - look at her young body. What the hell was
I thinking when I started this? I wasn't stoned, so I must have just
been stupid!

Apparently, she could see the conflicting emotions and thoughts on my
face, because she demonstrated the good sense to simply sit there, and
wait, rather than giving me an excuse to refuse outright.

After a few minutes of serious thought, I was finally able to
rationalize my lust with the thought that reassuring her of her normal
genital development would have a beneficial effect on her psyche and
personality. Yeah, I know - but at least it _sounded_ good.

I finally came out of the trance I was in, and looked at her.
Apparently, she could see the answer on my face, because she brightened
up considerably.

"Okay, Trouble, I'll do it - but only on two conditions."

"Do which? And what conditions?"

"Both, if you really insist. The conditions are pretty obvious, I think.
First, you dad will *never ever* hear about this, from EITHER of us,
under any conditions. If he found out, you'd be lucky to leave the house
before you turned 50, and I'd be lucky if he killed me quickly. Second,
the minute either one of us feels uncomfortable or wants to stop, they
say so, and that's the end of it - right then, with no argument or
discussion."

"Yeah, I really do want both. I think you're right about the first
condition, and I think I'd like the second one, too, so I agree to
them."

That said, we sat there for a bit looking at each other before she spoke
again.

"Uncle Dan, how do we do this? I mean, do we, um, just strip right here,
or what?"

That lead to a little bit of discussion on the details and how we were
going to go about it. We finally agreed on doing it there in the den, so
that there wouldn't be any kind of sexual overtones, and that she would
get ready in her bedroom, and wear her robe back into the den. I would
undress in the bathroom (and leave my clothes there, so there wouldn't
be any kind of added stimulus), and wear one of her dad's robes. When we
met back in the den, she'd started to print out copies of the male and
female diagrams that she'd seen, so that she could still use them as
references.

That settled, there was only a moment's awkwardness before we split up,
each to get ready.

When we met again in the den, Jan was already at the computer, and
waiting for the second of the two diagrams she'd selected to print out.
At my suggestion, she agreed that we'd just sit on the floor, next to
each other, and go over the drawings a bit before proceeding. She
accepted my reasoning that going that route would let us get a little
more comfortable with the situation before going too far with it - and
thus give us each a little extra time to chicken out (which made her
laugh).

As the second diagram started to print, I turned the lights up so we
could see better, then went ahead and sat down on the floor, with my
back against the couch - careful to pull the robe I was wearing closed
(but not tight). A few moments later, Jan joined me, also careful to
hold her robe closed while getting situated.

Once settled, it didn't take long for us to get started - she showed me
the diagrams that she'd selected, and together we talked a little about
the differences between the stylized (idealized?) drawings she had, and
what was likely to be found in the real world. It was when I pointed out
that there was a lot of variation in the general shape of a woman's
genitals that we finally got to the 'main event'. Jan started it by
opening the lower part of her robe, and spreading her legs a bit, and
asking me to explain what I meant. I told her that I'd have to have a
little look between her legs, so that I could use her own shape as a
reference point. She nodded her understanding, and spread her legs even
further, and bringing her knees up a bit to raise her pelvis up. I
leaned over to have a look, and got a truly delightful view: I could see
that she had a gently teardrop-shaped patch of medium density, but fine-
textured light brown pubic hair that started at her pubic bone, and
flowed down onto her labia. There, I could see that she was a little
aroused by the fact that her inner lips were peeking though the wispy
down, and the hood of her clitoris was visible at the top of her cleft.

I could see that the transition from her lower belly and pubis to the
outside of her vagina was less angular than it is in a lot of women:
there are some where their labia are almost at right angles to their
lower bellies, while in others, it is a much less acute transition.
Gesturing in the air, and using the palm of my hand as a reference for a
pubic area, made varying shapes with my fingers together to explain to
her the variations I was aware of. She got the idea fairly quickly, and
used her own hand to 'mould' her unique shape and compare it to some of
the ones I'd shown her - and thus reassure herself that that part of her
was well within the norm. When she would hold her hand up next to mine,
I could sometimes catch a faint (delightfully sweet/musky) scent of her,
and see a trace of moisture on one or more of her fingers - but I was
careful not to mention it, for fear of embarrassing her (and ending the
show!).

Of course, this led to a discussion of the size and shape of the mons.
As we talked, we both gradually relaxed, so by the time the subject
progressed to the size and shape of the inner lips, I was resting on my
side, on my elbow, face about level with her bellybutton, and she had
spread the lower part of her robe completely, and was sitting there with
her knees raised about halfway, and her legs spread fairly wide. Of
course, in the position I was in, my robe had parted, and my semi-erect
penis was lying on my leg - not fully exposed, but clearly visible. For
her part, the reaching and moving she'd done had opened the top of her
robe a bit, as well - making almost all of her breasts visible.

So it was that when we got to the subject of the size and shape of inner
lips, it seemed perfectly reasonable for us to _each_ shuck our robes,
and proceed fully nude. This was also when I found that she'd had the
presence of mind to bring along a large hand mirror, so that she could
get a clearer view of her own anatomy. A moments discussion and it was
agreed that she would continue sitting as she was, while I would scoot
down and lay on my stomach between her knees (close enough to see, but
not _too_ close) and hold the mirror, so that I could see what she was
pointing at or talking about.

From those positions, we were easily able to reference the female
anatomy drawing, and compare it with Jan's own structures. When
necessary, I was able to reassure her that her development and
dimensions were well within the 'normal' range, as I knew them.

As we progressed, it became quite plain that she was becoming more and
more aroused, but I remained silent about it. Not that it didn't have an
effect on me, mind you. The sight (and smell!) of her obvious arousal
was enough to keep my penis in a constant state of semi-erection; it was
only by lying to myself outrageously, and pretending this was just an
anatomy lesson and she was another girl, was I able to keep from
developing a genuine diamond-cutting erection.

It was only when she decided that she really, truly had to see the hymen
that made her a virgin did she concede that she was excited:

"Um, Uncle Dan, I want to see this hymen thing they say makes me a
virgin."

"Er, well, I suppose we could do that, but that would mean that you
would have to spread your legs pretty wide, and you would have to spread
the opening of your vagina so you could see into it far enough."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that, but, um, well, I don't know if I can."

"What do you mean? You don't want me to see you doing it, or is there
something else about it?"

"No, I don't mind you seeing me do it - I mean, you've seen everything
else by now! What I mean is that I feel funny, and I'm kind of wet down
there, and I don't know if that would make any difference."

"Jan, if you mean that you're feeling sexually aroused, that's fine; I
can understand that. As for being wet, I expect that would make it
easier for you to see inside."

"Well, yeah, I *am* feeling aroused, like you said. I think maybe you
noticed it as soon as it started to happen, didn't you?"

"Now that you mention it, yes, I did kind of suspect that's what was
happening."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Mostly because I didn't want to embarrass you." I answered.

"*Mostly* didn't want to embarrass me? What else?"

"Don't get mad at me, but I thought it was pretty sexy, too, and I liked
it."

That seemed to surprise her a bit, and she paused a little before saying
"You mean you thought I was sexy? It didn't gross you out or anything?"

"No, it didn't gross me out - like I said, I liked it. The sight - and
yes, smell! - of a sexually aroused woman is something that most men
like. And yes, I thought it was sexy - and thought YOU were sexy."

"I could smell me, but I didn't think you could. Oh, god, I'm *SO*
embarrassed!"

"Whoa, Trouble, stop right there. You didn't listen to what I said!"

"What?"

"Didn't you hear me when I said that the sight AND smell were things
that most men liked?"

"Uh, no. You really mean it? Why?"

"Yes, I really meant it. As for why, I don't know that I can explain it,
except to say that an obviously aroused and excited woman is something
that touches almost every man - it's the kind of thing that hits us at
our most basic level, and makes us glad we're men."

"Really? You think of me as a woman?"

"It really does have that effect on us. I suspect it's kind of the man
equivalent of the feeling women get just by holding a baby - it's the
kind of feeling that lets us know to our very soul just who and what we
are." I responded, trying to delay answering the second question.

She wasn't going for it, though: "But what about me as a woman?"

"Trouble, you're at a stage that's difficult to define: physically,
you're in transition between girl and woman: in theory, you could start
having babies at any time, now that you're having periods and all that.
The problem is that you're a *young* woman; yeah, I know, _almost_ 15,
but still YOUNG. Remember, you didn't start having periods until not so
long ago, and the fact that you're not fully developed yet means that -
strictly speaking - you're not fully a woman, yet, either. But, because
I care about you, and know what kind of person you are, and how grown up
you are - most of the time! - I'm willing to talk to you as the woman I
expect you'll be, and not the girl you WERE. Am I making sense?"

"Yeah, I understand. I kind of feel the same way, sometimes - there are
times when I want to play with Leo and John like I did when we were
smaller, but there are other times when they seem like such _children_."

"Well, duh! Leo's 10 and John's 7. Doesn't that qualify as children?"

She laughed, and admitted,"Yeah, I suppose. But you know what I meant."

"Yeah, I did."

"So anyway, does that mean that I can go ahead and look at my hymen,
then?"

"Sure, I don't know why not, as long as you're careful not to hurt
yourself."

"What do you mean hurt myself? I thought you were going to help me!" she
replied.

"Well, I didn't know if you would want me around for that, was all. I
mean, this other stuff is one thing, but you'll be pretty exposed when
you go hymen hunting."

She laughed before responding "Yeah, I know I'll be pretty open - but if
you've seen this much, I don't know that I have that much left to hide -
particularly with my boobs hanging out, too! And don't pretend you
didn't notice, either - I saw you looking!"

"Guilty as charged - yes, I was looking. Like I told you before, I think
they're delightful. You're pretty, and I have to confess to liking to
look at pretty things - and your boobs, as you call them, certainly
qualify. When they're hanging out like that, yes, I'm going to look -but
I'm not going to start trying to look down your blouse or anything like
that, either, so you don't have to worry about me becoming some pervert,
with my tongue hanging out and drooling all over my shirt whenever you
wear something that shows off your figure."

"Uncle Dan, I could NEVER think of you as a pervert. I know that
whenever I start talking to you about my body and sex and stuff it makes
you uncomfortable. I don't think it's because you're trying to do
anything to me, or anything like that; I think it's just because you
don't want to scare me or anything. I know that the only reason you
agreed to help me tonight is because you think you have to do it to help
keep me from getting into some kind of trouble - because you love me.
Not the making love kind, but the non-physical kind you told me about."

What could I say to something like that?

She continued with "So don't worry about looking at my boobs, or seeing
my vagina or anything like that. I know that you're not going to do
anything to hurt me or embarrass me. Actually, knowing that you like my
boobs, it makes me feel prettier, and special - like I don't feel like I
*have* to go out with just _any_ of the boys at school to feel good. I
know that I can wait until there's one that I really LIKE."

After that last sentence of hers, even if her dad DID find out about
this and killed me, it would be worth it, knowing I'd managed to
accomplish something GOOD with her.

"So now that that's out of the way, what do we need to do to go hymen
hunting?" she asked, with a giggle.

I thought about it for a minute, and said, "Well, the obvious thing is
to find out if your vagina can open up enough for you to see it. I see
you're still wet" - I couldn't help teasing her a little -"so I suppose
the thing to do would be for you to open your legs as far as you can,
and see if you can open your vagina enough."

With that, she spread her legs father than I ever thought she could,
rested herself on her tailbone to tilt her pelvis up, and leaned
forward. Following her instructions, I adjusted the mirror until she had
a fairly clear view.

Try as she might, though, she just couldn't seem to get a clear enough
(in her opinion - mine differed!) look at what she was after.

"Uncle Dan, I can't seem to get everything open enough to see inside. I
think I need your help."

"What do you mean?" I asked, afraid of what I thought the answer would
be.

"I think if you hold me open on the outside, I can open myself up the
rest of the way on my own."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure I want you to touch me on the outside, if that's what
you're asking. I know that you're not going to start trying to poke at
me or anything, and I really want to see."

"What do you want?"

"If you can hold me open with one hand, so you can hold on to the
mirror, I'm pretty sure I can use my hands to see inside."

I tried it, reluctantly, and found that the strength in my thumb and
forefinger was more for gripping than spreading. With her encouragement,
though, I found that I could hold the mirror in position with my chin,
and use both thumbs to spread her vaginal opening. This meant that I had
my hands on her cute, tight little ass cheeks - something that didn't
upset me _too_ much!

A couple of minutes later, Jan had managed to get herself opened up
enough that she (and I) could see the ring of her hymen, not far inside
her vagina. She pushed an experimental finger inside herself, and found
that it was a bit dry to go very far. Looking me right in the eye, she
carefully slid her finger in and out several times, spreading the ample
lubrication she'd developed in her arousal. It wasn't long before she
was able to insert it far enough to be able to feel the very definition
of her virginity. She experimented with it a bit, prodding at it from
several different angles, before deciding that it was something that
she'd have to deal with later. That settled, she pulled her finger out,
which I took as my cue to let go of her. I looked up at her, and asked
if there was anything else she wanted to know, or talk about before I
got up.

She responded by asking me "Do you think my hair down there is okay?"

That threw me off a bit, and I had to think for a moment before I could
answer"Sure, why not?"

She gave me the "you are *such* a goober!" look before answering, "I
mean, it just seems that there isn't very much of it. Some of the girls
at school have *lots* more. Some of them even look like they've got
little animals stuck down there!" she giggled.

"Remember the talk we had about your breasts?"

"Yeah"

"Well, it's a lot like that with your pubic hair. Your breast growth,
and hair growth here, are controlled by the different hormones and
chemicals in your body. As long as you eat right, your body is going to
develop the way it should, for YOU. You know what I think of your
breasts; as far as I can tell, your hair here is developing at about the
same rate. When I was about your age, I didn't think I had much hair,
either, and felt bad about it. It wasn't until later that I found out
that I'd developed just the way I was supposed to. A bit later than some
of the other guys at school, but still normal."

"You did?"

"Yup. As bad as I felt about it, and as much as it bothered me, *that's*
why I'm willing to try and answer YOUR questions - so you won't have to
go through some of the doubts and such that I did."

"Really?"

"You bet. Jan, anything I can do to help you deal with all the changes
and such that you're going through, I'll do. It might make me a bit
uncomfortable at times, as you've noticed, but I'll do it - as long as
it saves you some of the problems I went through."

"Thanks, Uncle Dan. Is it okay if I give you a hug?"

"Uh, yeah, but only AFTER we're done, and have our robes on again,
okay?"

"Chicken!"

"Squawk! Squawk!"

She laughed, and then got an impish look on her face, telling me "Well,
now that you've seen mine, I get to see yours!"

That announcement left me with mixed feelings - who would mind having a
cute, naked teenybopper eyeballing his dick? But if it was your best
friends daughter?

There was nothing to do but lay back and make the best of it.

I asked her "Do you want me to sit down, like you were, or sit or stand
up, or what?"

She thought about it for a minute, and said, "Well, since all of YOUR
stuff is on the outside, I guess the easiest thing would be for you to
just lay down, wouldn't it?"

I thought about it for a moment, agreed, and lay down on the floor, next
to her.

She leaned over me, with her male diagram in hand, and started looking
me over. Truth be told, I kind of felt like a specimen in a biology
class, the way she was looking and comparing. Fortunately (?), the male
anatomy isn't _that_ complicated, and it didn't take long for her to
finish her exam.

Looking up at me, she asked, "Why do you look different here, at the
end, than the picture?"

Checking the diagram, I explained to her that I was circumcised, and the
diagram wasn't - and then had to explain what that involved. In response
to her now-saucer-sized eyes, I went on to explain that when it was
done, it usually happened when the boy was still a baby, and that I
didn't have any memories of the event.

That seemed to placate her, and she asked me "Is it okay if I look
closer?"

"You mean you want to touch, and move things around, don't you?"

She blushed a bit, and admitted "Yeah. Is it okay?"

"Yes - but be _gentle_. A man's testicles - yes, those! - are very
sensitive to pressure. When you see a guy get hit in the crotch on one
of those funny video movies, THAT is why he folds up so fast."

That said, she began touching me. I was only semi-erect, so there wasn't
the problem of blowing my load all over her hand or anything, but it did
make for some interesting sensations as she moved things around,
touched, prodded, and so on. It was when she was weighing my balls in
her hand while holding my penis that I started to really get hard - as
much as I tried not to. Between her grip on my dick, holding my balls,
and the feel of her tits brushing against my side and leg, it was simply
too much.

She looked up at me with a questioning expression.

All I could do was tell her the truth: "Um, the way you're touching and
holding me there, and the way your breasts are brushing against me, is
starting to make ME feel aroused. There's nothing to worry about,
though."

She got a delighted look on her face, and started deliberately rubbing
her breasts against me while she softly squeezed my penis. Naturally
enough, it continued to grow.

"Is this what they call an erection, Uncle Dan?"

"Um, yeah, that's what it is."

"Am I embarrassing you?"

"Well, yeah, a little."

"Why?"

"It's just that you're still a bit young, and even though getting an
erection isn't something I've got a lot of control over, I still don't
want to do anything scare you or make YOU embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed. I think it's kind of cute."

Just what I needed to hear about my dick - "It's cute".

She continued, "Actually, it's kind of flattering."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you told me that you thought of me as the woman I _would_ be, and
I guess this is proof that you really do think of me that way. And I
guess it means that you really do think I'm sexy, too, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I suppose that you could think of it that way - as long as you
understand that I have no plan or desire to actually HAVE sex with you."

"No, I wouldn't want that either - but it's still kind of fun to see it
and touch it and everything. Are all men this big?"

Thanks for the ego boost, but I know better.

"No, sorry to disappoint you, but I'm actually about average - it's
about 6 inches long, and a little more than a couple inches around."

"And this actually fits inside a woman?"

"Yeah, it really does - at least when I get the chance to check.
Understand that a woman stretches inside, so she can accept almost any
size penis."

"You mean something like this could fit inside ME?"

"Well, not right away, it couldn't; first you would have to be sexually
aroused..."

"I guess!"

"And then you would have to break your hymen, so that the entire penis
could get inside you. The best bet would be to put only a little of it
in at a time, so that you didn't have to stretch everyplace at once,
which might hurt."

"I'll bet. So what IS the easiest way for a woman to take a man the
first time?"

"That would be if the man were to lay down, like I am, and let the woman
be over him. She could get herself positioned right, and the let herself
sit down on it slowly. Then, if she felt uncomfortable or any pain, she
could stop until she was ready again. In fact, if she needed to, she
could raise and lower herself several times, so that the wetness inside
her helped lubricate the man's penis, just like you had to move your
finger in and out several times before you could touch your hymen."

"Yeah, I can understand that."

She continued like that - gently rubbing me, holding and weighing and
caressing my balls, deliberately brushing her breasts against me, for
several more minutes before she was finally satisfied. When she was
done, she let go of me, and looked up at be before asking, "Are you
going to be okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you don't have to climax now or anything do you?"

"No, I don't have to climax or anything. Just like you get sexually
aroused sometimes, without having a climax, men do to. It's just that
with us, it's a bit more obvious."

"Try a lot more obvious!" she laughed.

"Anyway, it's perfectly normal for a man to get an erection without
having to have sex. If it's left alone for a bit, it will go back to
it's regular size, and everything will be fine."

"What does regular size mean?"

"Well, you remember when you used to give Leo and John baths? And how
their penises would get small when they were wet or cold?"

"Yeah."

"It's like that, only sized different because I'm a grown man."

"Okay, I understand."

With that, she was content to sit there and watch as my erect penis
slowly deflated to normal. When it was finally done, she looked at me,
and smiled, and said "Thanks, Uncle Dan. I've learned a lot tonight, and
I've got you to thank for it."

"I hope you won't take this the wrong way, Trouble, but it was my
pleasure." - which earned me a laugh at the joke.

With that, we both got up, and put our robes on. Jan turned to me and
reminded me that she owed me a hug - which I promptly accepted. I have
to say that it was one of the most endearing, affectionate, and loving
hugs I could remember getting in a _long_ time. When we separated, she
kissed me on the cheek, and told me "Thanks again, Uncle Dan. It's nice
to know that I have somebody that will talk to me like I've actually got
a brain, and will explain and show things to me when I have a question
or problem."

I hugged her again, and kissed her on her forehead, telling her that she
would always be special to me.

She smiled up at me, and told me goodnight before heading off to bed. I
went back into the bathroom, put on my clothes, and made myself
comfortable on the couch, so there would be someone there when she got
up and the boys got home in the morning.

Over the next few weeks, Paul was kept pretty busy with a serious
increase in business. Somehow, though, he always managed to spend time
with the kids. The third week in July, we all celebrated Jan's 15th
birthday. I bought her a gold friendship bracelet, with 15 diamond
chips. It wasn't expensive (I'd talked it over with Paul), but after the
paid-for driving lessons her dad gave her, she seemed to think it was
the greatest thing she'd ever gotten. As a result, she wore it almost
constantly. She told me few days later that all of her friends were
jealous of it, and that several had openly wished that *they* had
somebody to give them something like that.

Also about that time, there was an increase in the number of road trips
that Paul had to make - an increase that lasted over half way through
August. As a result, he and I were both hard-pressed to make sure that
his kids always had somebody they could turn to if there were any
problems. But we managed, and the kids seemed to understand the problem,
and tried to keep the number of requests and problems to a minimum.
Still, I was spending nearly as much time at Paul's place as I was my
own - sometimes 4 or 5 days in a row, usually over weekends. And each
time I was there, Jan seemed to find some way or excuse to show herself
off to me: wearing a too-large T-shirt and leaning over to tell me
something, so that I could see that she wasn't wearing a bra; making
sure that I 'caught' her as she went from the bathroom to her bedroom
after a shower when she wasn't wearing her robe; wearing a short skirt
one evening while we were all watching TV, and curling her leg under
herself so that I could see she wasn't wearing any panties. Each time,
she'd look me right in the eye while she did it, and all I would do was
smile at her, and give her a wink in recognition.

The most memorable, though, was when she called out to me from the
bathroom, claiming that she didn't have a towel - and would I bring her
one? I pretty much expected to get a view, but not to the degree that I
did: after knocking on the bathroom door, and told to enter, I started
to leave the towel where she could easily see it. Instead, she calmly
got out of the shower, buck naked, right there in front of me. Smiling
at me, she raised her arms over her head and got up on her toes, and did
a slow pirouette for me, letting me have a good look at everything she
had: smooth skin, nicely curved hips, firm bust, taut belly, and a tight
little ass. She smiled even more when she saw my involuntary response in
my bulging jeans. I left the towel on the counter, and tried to make my
escape, but she had other plans - grabbing me around my waist and giving
me a hug, while pressing her breasts into my chest and her pelvis into
my erection. As much as I wanted more, I controlled myself, and simply
hugged her in return, and rubbed my hands up and down her back, from
shoulders to waist - careful to stay away from anything too intimate.
When she finally let me go, she looked up at me with a strange look on
her face, and simply said "Thanks, Uncle Dan." I wasn't quite sure if
she was thanking me for the towel, the hug, or rubbing her back - and
was too chicken to find out.

It was also during these trips that I finally realized that I had an
idea of where she was in her sex education by the questions that she
would ask me when we were alone. She never asked anything overtly
sexual, thankfully, but from the questions she did ask, and how often
she asked them, I could tell that she was still learning about things,
but not being fanatical about it. Apparently, she was taking it easy in
what she was looking up, and trying to make sure she understood
something before moving on to a different topic.

Fortunately, the end of August saw things slow down for Paul, so that he
finally had the opportunity to spend some real time with the kids, and
get them ready for the start of school. I was careful to stay away for a
while, so that I didn't intrude or interfere with his time with them.
With the start of school, things quickly settle back into a routine that
we were all familiar with.

A couple of weeks into the school year, Jan announced that she wanted to
take part in a science project that several of the other kids were
participating in. Paul and I were both mildly surprised at this, since
she'd never shown any interest in such things before, but he readily
agreed to her request.

Over the next week or so, more and more details of the project became
available, and it quickly became obvious that she was going to need some
fairly hefty (for a 10th grader) technical information and resources.
Paul was about as un-technical as they come, and it didn't take long for
me to become the semi-resident science and technology guru for her. She
was spending a lot of her own time doing research and performing some of
the tests and experiments that were needed, but it was also necessary
for me to spend a considerable amount of time with her, explaining
things, and just generally making sure she didn't blow herself up or get
electrocuted or anything.

It was during these times, while we were waiting for something to
happen, that she would continue talking to me about some of the things
that she'd learned in her sex ed studies, and ask the occasional
question, or even tell me about some of the things that she was doing
and feeling. More than once, I found myself starting to sprout an
erection at some of what she was saying, but I was always careful not to
be obvious about it, or make any kind of big deal about it. I simply
continued talking to her as though she really did have a brain, and as
though she were as grown up as she thought she was.

Finally, as Thanksgiving approached, we had done as much as we could on
the science project - all that was left was for her to do her analysis
of what she'd worked on, and write a report on the whole process. Not a
trivial task, of course, but nothing overwhelming, either.

It was the first week of November when Paul got the word that he
absolutely, positively had to go on a road trip that would last a full
week, as well as both weekends around it. He was to leave late one
Friday evening of the second week of November, and return a week after
the following Monday. He was most definitely unhappy at the idea, as
were the kids, but they all knew that not liking it wasn't going to
change anything. So, Paul and I got together with the kids, and figured
out what we were going to do, and how to get it done. Since the kids
schedule was pretty well set by their school, it didn't take all that
long before the what-to-do part was settled. Surprisingly, it didn't
take much longer for us to work out the 'how' part of it. A few phone
calls to get transportation help at a few points, and it was settled:
I'd spend the whole time at Paul's place. During the school week, I'd
drop the kids off at school, and collect them after. I'd handle some of
the transportation duties, but the kids would get most of their rides
from the parents of other kids that were involved - except on weekends,
when I would have the whole job. No special events like sleepovers or
parties were planned, and thus excluded until after Paul got back. If a
special event came up, and there was time, Paul would make the decision;
otherwise, what *I* said was _law_, with no argument or complaining.
Since we all pretty much knew what the routine was from prior
experience, there really weren't any problems expected - but Paul and I
figured that it couldn't hurt to make sure the kids understood exactly
who was in charge, and when.

When the fateful day came, it was decided that the kids could all go to
the airport to see Paul off - even though he was leaving a bit late, we
figured the kids could sleep late the next day (Saturday) to make up for
it. As usual, Paul promised to call them each night - a promise that he
never failed to keep, always calling about 7:30 so that he got them
between supper and bedtime. We all watched as Paul finally got his
flight, and even hung around long enough to watch the plane take off. I
have to say, it was a quiet bunch that rode back with me in Paul's
minivan. By the time we got home, Jan was the only one awake, and she
helped get the boys to bed: I carried Leo, and she carried John. We each
stripped them down to their underwear, put them under the covers, and
left them to sleep it off, as it were.

Jan was looking a bit sad and apprehensive, so I asked her if she wanted
to stay up for a bit with me before going to bed, and she readily
agreed. She watched as I made each of us a Coke, and added a splash of
rum to mine. She asked if she could have some too, and I figured that a
_little_ bit might help her relax and get to sleep. I wasn't worried
about giving her alcohol, since I knew that Paul let her have a little
wine on every so often when they went out to dinner. I added a much
smaller amount to her Coke, and we went into the den, again each sitting
at opposite ends of their large couch.

With the stereo softly playing a little Beethoven, we sat there quietly
for several minutes, taking the occasional sip of our drinks. Finally,
though, Jan looked over at me, and said"Uncle Dan, I know it's only been
a little while, but I already miss Daddy. This is the first time he's
ever gone away for a trip this long."

"Well, Trouble, he'll be back soon enough. I know you'll miss him, but
remember that he didn't want to have to leave for this long, either."

"I know, but it's still hard."

"I know it is. But you pretty much a grown-up, now" - earning me a wry
smile - "and that's the kind of thing that grown ups have to learn to
deal with. I'm sure it will be hard, but try to be brave about it,
because Leo and John are going to be watching you to see how they should
react. If you can be calm about it, it will help them handle it, too.
Besides, it's not like you're really ALONE alone - I mean, I'm here,
too, remember?"

"I know you're here, and I think that's the only thing that's keeping me
from crying right now. I'll try to be brave about Daddy being gone so
that John and Leo don't cry, but I don't know if I can do it."

"Jan, I didn't say you couldn't be sad, or cry. I just said that you
should try to make sure that the boys only see you being strong. If you
have to cry or anything, just try to wait until you're alone to do it,
so they don't see it. As grown up as you're trying to be, you're still
only 15 years old, and nobody is going to think bad about you for
missing your dad - least of all, me."

"Okay. Thanks, Uncle Dan."

"No problem, Trouble."

We sat there like that for a little while longer, before Jan spoke up
again "Uncle Dan?"

"Yes, Jan?"

"Is it okay if I sit next to you, and you hold me?"

"Sure, honey, if it helps make you feel better."

"It would. Let me get a blanket first, though, 'cause it's kind of cold
in here."

"Sure, go ahead. I'll be here when you get back." I answered, and
getting a small smile in return.

A couple of minutes later, she was back, with one of the light blankets
they used in the den in winter. She quickly sat next to me, and arranged
the blanket so that it would cover both of us. She leaned against my
side, with her head on my shoulder, and pulled my arm around so that it
was draped over her shoulder, and my hand was on her belly. That done,
she pulled the blanket up so that it covered her; then laid her head on
my shoulder. A minute later, she moved my hand up, so that it was
cupping her breast, and held it there. I suspect that the little bit of
rum she'd had started to kick in, because it wasn't much longer before
she apparently fell asleep: I could hear soft snoring sounds from her. I
wasn't in any rush to move, so just left her there; before I knew it,
I'd fallen asleep, as well.

When I woke up the next morning, I was still on the couch - though I'd
move around a bit, and was half-laying on it, instead of leaning against
the end as I started out the night before. In addition, I was surprised
to find that - whether by her doing, or mine - my hand had found it's
way inside her shirt, and I was holding her bare breast in my hand. On
top of that, her hand had gravitated to my crotch, and she had a slight
grip on my semi-erect penis.

My efforts to gently extract my hand apparently woke her up: she opened
her eyes and looked up at me, saying "You can leave it there - it feels
good, and I like it." before closing her eyes again, snuggling into my
chest, and giving my penis a little squeeze.

Since we were still covered by the blanket, I didn't have to worry about
the boys finding us, and - yes, I admit it - it felt pretty damn good to
have her tit in my hand; so I just closed my eyes, and drifted back into
a half-sleep.

A while later, I started having a dream that someone was gently
squeezing and stroking my erect penis, and that I was caressing a breast
I couldn't see, and playing with it's nipple and areola: drawing little
circles on the areola, gently pinching and pulling on the nipple, softly
squeezing the breast, and so on. That continued for several minutes
before my conscious re-asserted it's control over my brain, and I woke
up to find that it wasn't a dream: Jan WAS doing those things to my
penis, and I WAS doing those things to the breast I still held. As I was
looking down at her, she looked up at me, and I could see that her face
and shoulders were more that a little flushed from arousal.

Fortunately, we were saved from either embarrassment or going where we
didn't need to go by the sound of Leo and John getting out of bed and
heading for the bathroom. Jan blinked a bit as she got control of
herself, and took her hand off my penis. I kissed her on top of her head
as I carefully extracted my arm from her shirt, and told her "That was a
nice way to wake up, Trouble."

She responded by saying "Yeah, but did we _have_ to wake up, though? I
was starting to feel pretty good, there!"

I laughed, and answered "You sure were 'feeling pretty good', in more
ways than one. But I don't think that's something we need to repeat,
either - particularly with the boys around. I think we're lucky we woke
up when we did, rather than have Leo and John find us like that."

She giggled a little at my joke, and replied, "Yeah, I suppose you're
right. Still, it *was* fun."

With that, she gave me a little peck on the lips - surprising the hell
out of me - before getting up. As I got up, too, she carefully made sure
her clothes were okay, and after I'd done the same (rearranging my still
semi-erect penis so that it was less noticeable), we worked together to
fold the blanket and put it away before heading to the kitchen for
breakfast.

The rest of the day and evening went pretty much as expected.

Late the next morning, the boys got invited over to one of their
cousin's houses - something they quickly agreed to. The details were
worked out, and arrangements were made for that I'd deliver them for
lunch, and they'd be brought back in time for supper.

When I got back from delivering them, I found Jan in the den, working on
her science project report. I left her to it, and went into the living
room to listen to some music, and wound up taking a nap.

I woke up a couple of hours later, to see Jan in the chair across from
me, just sitting there. I raised my eyebrow, and she said"I got most of
my report done, and was just watching you. You don't mind?"

I smiled, and said "No, not while I'm sleeping."

She giggled a bit before getting serious again, saying,"There's
something I need your help with."

I sat up, and asked "What, is there a problem with the project?"

She looked at her lap, and answered, "No, there's a problem with the
Jan."

I looked at her a little more closely, and could see that something was
bothering her. "What is it?" I asked.

"Um, you remember yesterday morning?"

"Gladly. What about it?"

"Well, um, the way I was feeling - you know - before Leo and John woke
up, was the best I'd ever, you know, *felt* before."

"Okay. And?" somehow, I knew she was just getting started.

"Well, I mean, I've been trying a lot" - a blush at admitting how much
she'd been masturbating - "and I've never, you know, felt that good
before. I mean, it feels good and all that, but never as good as
yesterday. Yesterday was *way* better than I'd ever felt before, and I
think that if yesterday was that good, then that orgasm stuff I've read
about must be pretty good."

"Yeah, it is."

"Well, um, I want to feel one. An orgasm, I mean."

"I kinda figured that's what you meant. But how do I fit into this?" I
thought I knew what the answer was, but wanted - no, *needed* - to make
sure.

She answered me by saying "Uh, well, I was, uh, hoping...." before she
ran out of steam, and stared into her lap again.

"You were hoping what?"

"Well, um, that you would, uh, you know...." she ran down again.

"What?"

"help-me-have-an-orgasm" she was finally able to blurt out.

That was where I was afraid she was going, but I had to hear it.

"Jan, you know I'd do anything I can for you, but this is something I'm
really not sure about."

She started sniffling a little, and asked me "What do you mean?"

I answered by saying "I really don't know if it would appropriate for me
to do anything like that. I mean, I know that I've answered a lot of
your questions, and helped you find out a lot of things that you wanted
to know about, but I'm just not sure that it would be _right_ for me to
have _that_ kind of physical contact with you."

"So you're telling me that you don't love me like that, and that you're
going to just let me keep having trouble with my - _feelings_ - and
you're not going to keep your promise to not let me have the kinds of
problems you did when you were younger, then." By now, there wasn't any
doubt that she was quietly crying.

I felt like crap. I tried to explain "Trouble, I really hope that you
don't mean it when you say you think I don't love you. I really, truly
DO love you. It's just that if I do anything to help you have an orgasm,
it means that we would be having physical contact to do it - SEXUAL
contact. Not like the anatomy lesson we had, or anything like that, but
actual sexual contact. That's something that it's real difficult to
explain or have a reason for. Because of your age and mine, it's flat-
out against the law: if anything happened and people found out, the BEST
I could hope for would be losing everything I own, and being marked as
some kind of sex offender. The worst that would happen would be that I'd
go to jail first - and from what I hear, guys in jail don't much care
for sex offenders: I'd likely wind up being a wife to some big redneck,
if I wasn't killed by someone or didn't have someone beating the living
crap out of me every day."

Through her sniffles and tears, she managed to tell me "Uncle Dan, I
KNOW that already. But there's only two of us here now, and I hoped that
you trusted me enough to believe that I'd never tell *anyone* about it.
Besides, all the other stuff we've done had been kind of sexual, too. I
mean, when I got so wet during the anatomy lesson, like you called it,
wasn't that sexual? And when you got an erection - and TOLD me that you
were sexually aroused - wasn't that sexual, too?"

In a way, she was right. But I still had to try telling her "That's all
true enough, Jan. But there's still the problem that taking this next
step is something that we can't take back - once we've had that kind of
contact or experience with each other, the way we see each other with
NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN. Do you understand that?"

"Of course I do. Why are you talking to me like I'm stupid or
something?"

"Honey, it's not that I think you're stupid. I'm just trying to make
sure that you really do understand that what you're talking about is
_forever_, and if we did that, we'd never be the same again."

"But we're not the same NOW. I mean, after you saw me in my room that
time" - I didn't know she could cry and blush at the same time, but she
did -"do you think I'm going to believe that things weren't different
between us?"

I had to admit to myself that she was right, there. But I still wasn't
ready to give in.

"Jan, you're right. When I saw you then, it really sank in for me that
you were really growing up, and not the little girl that I used to carry
around on my shoulders when we went to the zoo. But I'm still having
trouble believing that you really understand what it is you're asking,
and that you really do want help from me with that particular problem."

"Uncle Dan, sometimes you are *such* a big dummy. Don't you think I know
what it is I'm asking? Even after I showed you my boobs that first time?
Or after our 'anatomy lesson'? Or even the other night? Remember, it was
ME that took your hand and put it on my breast! Didn't you wonder how
your hand got inside my blouse? Didn't you wonder why I wasn't wearing a
bra in the morning, even though I had it on the night before?" - that
was one I hadn't caught at the time, but thinking back on it, she was
right. "Do you really think that I would have been playing with your
penis yesterday morning if I didn't really want to? Or that I would be
letting you play with my boob if I didn't like it, and wanted you to?"

By this time, she had (mostly) stopped crying, and was starting to get a
little pissed at me. Then she stood up, and put an end to all the
discussion.

"Dammit, Uncle Dan, do you think I'd do *this*" - she pulled off her
blouse to reveal a braless torso, and continued stripping as she
finished with "- if I wasn't SURE, and it wasn't MY idea?". By the time
she finished talking, she was naked as the day she was born - but a hell
of a lot better looking.

"Uncle Dan, I'm not asking you to have sex with me. I just want you to
help me find out what an orgasm is like, and how to have them myself. If
you'll do it, I want to learn about the other things, too, the ones that
don't involve actual sex." She continued to stand there in front of me,
leaving me a view that was most definitely distracting. But, I expect
she knew that.

"What do you mean 'the other things'?"

"I mean some of the stuff that I've read about. You know, the stuff like
oral sex and masturbating each other, and like that. I want to find out
what it feels like when *I* have an orgasm, and I want to know what
happens when a man - like YOU - has an orgasm, too."

By this time, I was finally ready to concede that she was not only
serious, but reasonably aware of what it was she was asking. But I was
still hesitant - somehow, I really didn't think this would be the end of
it, and I wasn't sure if I was happy or sad at the prospect.

She just stood there, looking at me, as what seemed like a million
thoughts ran through my mind, and I argued with myself about what to do.
Finally, though, I reached a decision.

"Okay, Trouble, I agree. But you've got to remember that this doesn't
mean that we're boyfriend and girlfriend, or anything like that. It's
not that I don't love you and want to do what I can to make you happy,
it's just that if we start paying too much attention to each other after
this, people might get suspicious - and then I'd be in trouble. Besides,
I think you've probably got a couple of guys at school that you'd rather
have as boyfriends, than an old fart like me!"

"I understand what you mean, and no, I don't want us to be a couple or
anything. And I'm not mad or upset that you had to say that stuff -
you're just saying in words what I was already thinking."

After saying that, she stepped forward, took my hands, and gently helped
pull me to my feet. Once I was standing, she quietly started undressing
me. I stopped her, and suggested that she get us a blanket on the floor,
so that we wouldn't get too cold. She agreed, and by the time she'd
gotten it, and had it spread on the floor in front of the fireplace
(where we had a small, but warm fire going), I had finished undressing,
and was standing in front of her, just as nude as she was - if more
obviously excited.

Jan turned to me, and after a long look at my semi-erect penis, stepped
over in front of me. She pulled my hands around her waist, and then
started hugging me - pressing herself tightly against me. For my part, I
hugged her back, and started caressing her back, much as I'd done before
- but this time, I was willing to do a little more exploring. It wasn't
long before I was softly caressing her: from her sides up near her
breasts, to her shoulders, back down to her firm little ass that I
enjoyed caressing and squeezing, and back up to her sides. She, however,
was a bit more direct: she had both hands on my ass cheeks, squeezing
them, and pressing her breasts and pelvis against me. Naturally enough,
I started to become more erect, and it wasn't long before she had my
penis trapped between her legs, and was softly rubbing her pubic bone
and mons against it. In very short order, I could feel her lubrication
starting to spread across the part of my penis that she was rubbing
herself against.

I gently pried her away from me, and as my now-erect penis cleared her
groin, it apparently brushed against the outside of her clitoris,
because I heard her make a sudden gasp. I looked down, and could clearly
see the hood of her clit peeking out from the top of her cleft, and the
tops of her inner lips not far below it. I was also greeted by the sight
of her crinkled areolas, and very erect nipples. To my surprise, I could
see that her knees were a bit wobbly, and that she had already started
to develop a bit of blush on her face and across her shoulders and the
tops of her breasts from her arousal. She looked at me though half-
lidded eyes, clearly very excited, and willing to continue. I teased her
by saying "We'd better sit down, before you fall down, don't you think?"
She could only nod her agreement as I gently guided her to a seated
position next to me.

That brief reprieve was apparently enough for her to get her wits back
together, so when I asked her where she wanted to start, she was fairly
coherent when she told me she just wanted me to touch her however I
wanted. I told her that was fine, and said that if she liked something I
did, that she should tell me or let me know in some way - that way, I
could help her the most. She nodded her agreement, and started to lay
back. I stopped her, and said that it was pretty customary to start by
kissing - and asked her if she knew how. She shook her head, and told me
she wanted to learn 'the whole thing'. I smiled in response, and leaned
forward to give her a kiss on the lips. She eagerly responded, and
surprisingly, there wasn't any of the awkwardness that most people
experience during their first kiss. In fact, she quickly followed my
example when first I opened my mouth slightly, and then touched her lips
with my tongue. In just a few moments, we were fully involved, kissing
as though we'd been doing it all our lives - indeed, she surprised me by
how willing she was to let me explore her mouth with my tongue, and then
do the same with me. As we kissed, I moved a hand up, and started
caressing her breasts - first one, then the other; cupping them, giving
them gentle squeezes, rubbing my thumb over her nipples, and circling
her nipples with a finger. Her response to that was to press herself
into my hand even more, and increase the activity between our tongues.

After a few minutes of that, I gently broke the kiss, and moved my head
around to go to work on her neck and shoulder - which ratcheted her
excitement up even more. From her neck, I branched out, and gave her
earlobe a few gentle nips - again increasing her arousal, if her gasps
and moans were any indication. Once I'd thoroughly covered one side, I
softly kissed and nibbled my way across her throat to the other side,
where I repeated my actions. I went back and forth from one side to the
other several times, each time taking a slightly different path, so that
I might work my way across her jaw and chin one time, and across her
cheeks and eyes the next. Only when I heard her start to pant did I lay
her back, kissing her all over her face as I did. When she was finally
on her back, and her legs stretched out, I started working my way down:
the hollow of her throat, her collar bones, her upper chest, the tops of
her breasts where they rose out of her chest, her sides, between her
breasts, and finally - with her hands in my hair - her breasts,
themselves.

I started by laying my tongue against the bottom of her left breast, and
curling it upward, so that when I finally reached her nipple, the very
tip of my tongue gave it a little 'flip'. My reward was a moan of desire
such as I hadn't heard in a VERY long time. I repeated the act on her
other breast, with nearly identical results. It wasn't long before I was
licking each of her breasts in its entirety, bathing them with my
tongue. Between my efforts, and the relatively cool air in the den, her
nipples and the tips of her breasts were as tight and erect as any I'd
ever seen - and the noises she was making assured me that I was doing
things right.

With that kind of encouragement, it didn't take me long to start taking
her nipples into my mouth, and flicking them with the end of my tongue
as I gently sucked on the tips of her breasts. First one, then the other
fell victim to my attentions, eliciting another round of moans and gasps
from her - along with pulling my head even closer to her chest. When
she'd let me breath, I could smell the delightful aroma of her
excitement: a musky, but sweet and fresh scent, that I knew promised a
clean and pleasant oral experience, if she'd let me.

Continuing my attentions to her breasts, I started sucking on them in
different ways: one time trying to softly suck as much of each one as I
could into my mouth; other times, doing rapid little suctions on her
nipples; sometimes softly biting her breasts, and other times, gently
chewing on the peaks of her breasts. As I did these things, I carefully
let my hand trace it's way down her body, until I reached her mons,
where I softly stroked the outside of her vagina, and made the
occasional lap around her clitoris. I found myself slightly amazed at
the amount of lubrication she released - there was more than enough of
it to keep her inner lips and clitoris moistened, so that she didn't
suffer and discomfort from my activities. A few times, I started to
slide my finger into her, and I could hear her when she had a little
catch in her breath - I took it to mean that she didn't want me to go
that far, so I didn't press the matter; instead, I simply paid more
attention to what was available outside her vagina.

After several minutes of attention to her breasts, I started moving
again - tracing my way down her belly to her navel, where I licked
around it a bit, and then tried to convert her 'innie' to an 'outie' -
something that apparently pleased her, judging by the way she started
arching herself up toward me, and pressing my face into her abdomen.
After several repeats of that, I again started tracing my tongue further
down her abdomen, until I was just short of her pubic hair. I paused
there, and looked up toward her face.

When she realized I'd stopped, she opened her eyes, and looked down at
me. When she saw the questioning look on my face, she quickly nodded her
permission, and laid her head back again, waiting for me to continue.

When I did, it only took her a few moments to try and kill me: about the
time I got my tongue on her clitoris, she snapped her legs together, and
I was afraid she'd break my neck. With a little effort, though, I was
able to pry her legs apart again, and continue: alternating between
drawing little circles with my tongue around her clitoris, and licking
around her vaginal lips, and gently sucking them into my mouth and
'chewing' on them. Her excitement was now at it's peak, and she was
slowly humping her pelvis into my mouth - someone looking at us might
have thought that I was one of those little 'nodding dogs' you sometime
see in someone's back car window. But I was more than happy to do it -
I'd been right about her taste: fresh, and sweet, with enough of a tang
to her flavor that I knew where I was on her body. About this time, I
wanted to see what her reaction would be if I tried inserting my tongue
in her vagina - and her response was a polar opposite: I though she was
going to bruise my lips with her pelvic bone, she raised her hips so
fast. Thus encouraged, I proceeded to try to fuck her with my tongue -
something that she encouraged by humping herself in such a way that
about all I had to do was stick my tongue out, and let her do the work.
Finally, though, I knew it was time to finish things, and slowly moved
my way back up to her clitoris. There, I calmly went about seeing just
what kinds of sensations she liked to experience on her clitoris:
circling motions - fast, slow, and medium, and how much pressure and
where? Figure eights across it - how much pressure, and how fast? Does
direction matter? Pulsating pressure - how much 'minimum' and how much
'maximum', and how often? Suck on it - how hard, and how long, and with
what pressure variations? Simply licking it - how narrow or wide should
my tongue be, and how hard when and where? As it turned out, she liked
just about anything I did, if I kept at it. But by this time, she was
grunting and moaning and gasping for breath, along with pressing my face
into her crotch and muttering incoherently, so I finally settled in to
bringing her off: light flickering sensations with the tip of my tongue,
not too quickly, and firmly, so that she could feel them without it
hurting her. To my surprise, it was just a matter of a minute or so
before it hit her: she snapped her pelvis up again, slammed her legs
together, and pushed my face into her as she spasmed. My lower lip was
against her vaginal lips, and I could feel her vaginal muscles as they
clenched, time and again - pushing even more of her fragrant juices onto
my chin and down her ass. With my head immobilized by her legs, I could
only look up toward her breasts, which were still, as her breathing
stopped for several long seconds, as she experienced the first spasm of
her first orgasm. Then she gasped, and had another spasm, this one a bit
shorter than the last. Several more times it all happened, with each
period shorter than the one before, until she was finally able to
breathe continuously. It was only then, thoroughly exhausted, that she
released my head from between her legs, and lowered her ass and pelvis.

As she gasped, trying to get her breath back, I moved back up, so that I
was lying next to her when she opened her eyes. It took her a few
seconds to focus, and a couple more before she was able to recognize me.
When she did, though, she wrapped her arms around my neck, and hugged me
so hard I couldn't breathe. She finally let go, and laid back again; it
was another minute or two before she could try to talk - even then, it
took her a couple of tries before she was able to get anything out.

"Wow!"

"I take it you liked it, then?" I asked, laughing a bit.

She laughed a bit in return, and said,"Yeah, you could say that. I
understand what you meant about trying to explain an orgasm to me, now.
'Little death', my foot! I thought I DID die!"

"I take it I did okay, then?" I asked, mischievously.

She just gave me the 'goober' look, and said, "You don't have to beg;
you know how good you did!"

"Well, at least tell me that you think you can take care of yourself,
from now on - I thought you were trying to kill me there, a couple of
times!"

She laughed, and answered, "Well, you said to let you know if I liked
something! Well, I liked all of it! And yes, I think I can do it myself
from now on - though I wouldn't mind a little help from you, sometimes!"

"C'mon, Trouble. We can't make a habit of this, remember? Besides, I
don't know that either one of us could stand too many repeats of this!"

She giggled, and said, "Yeah, I suppose you're right about that - but
how many is TOO many?"

"Damned if I know. But let's just take it easy, okay? And let what
happens, happen? There's no sense in trying to push it any, even though
it was fun for me, too."

"On the subject of fun for you, too, I think I'm entitled to a little
more helping, am I not?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we agreed that I was going to get to learn everything except
actual sex - and as much fun as that was, I still haven't learned
anything about YOU."

"Jan, I'm really serious when I say that you don't have to do anything
for ME. I actually had enough fun 'helping' you, and seeing the results
was enough of a reward for me."

"Well, it isn't enough for me, Mister! I still want to know what happens
when a man has an orgasm - and maybe even find out what it's like to do
to you what you did to me!"

"What thing I did to you?"

"That thing you did with your mouth DOWN THERE, you big dummy. All the
rest of it was just feeling good - no, terrific! - until you started
*that* business!"

"In case you forgot, I'm not put together the same way you are, Trouble.
You doing 'that thing' to me is a whole lot different that what I did to
you - with different results."

She grabbed my head and kissed me, before realizing what the wetness was
on my face. When we separated, I could see her reacting to the taste of
her own juices that had been on my lips. She puzzled over it for a
moment, before smiling, and asking me "Is that what I taste like, down
there?"

"Yup. Looks like you don't mind it too much, either."

"No, I don't, I guess. It tastes funny, but not bad or anything. That
doesn't mean that I like girls, does it?"

"Jan, you won't know if you like girls or not until you actually try one
- just like you won't really know if you'll like sex until you try IT.
Besides, there's nothing wrong with liking girls - I do!"

That got me a laugh from her before she continued, "You know what I
mean. Does me not minding my own taste mean that I'm lesbian or
something?"

"No, I don't think it means that. If you ever tried it, you might find
that you DO like girls, but that doesn't mean that you can't like boys,
too - or like boys better. It's kind of like going to a restaurant - if
they don't have the thing you like most, it might be nice having
something else that's almost as good, or just as good in a different
way."

"I understand what you mean - but I think I'll wait a while on that. Um,
do you have a, uh, second choice?"

"No, darlin, I'm pretty much set on the female persuasion. I don't have
anything against gay people; I just don't have any interest in being
one. I'm an outie, and girls are innies, and that seems to work pretty
well for me."

She laughed, and said, "Yeah, I can understand that - I think I'm going
to be partial to 'outies', myself. But maybe some day, I'll find out if
another 'innie' can be fun, too."

That pretty much ended conversation for a bit, until I offered to get up
and get us something to drink. She opted for a Coke, and that sounded
pretty good to me, too, so I brought us each back a can from the fridge.
We laid there for a little while, just cuddling, before I saw her get a
little gleam in her eye.

She kissed me again, and our tongues danced a bit before she surprised
me by pulling away, and starting to lick the remains of her juices from
my face - and then off any other part of my body she could smell it on,
including my chest and my fingers. The thought of it started turning me
on, and before long, I had a blue-veiner erection - which she duly
noticed.

She scooted down - nearly giving me eyestrain watching her breasts
jiggle - and took the situation firmly in hand.

She carefully examined it for several moments, before turning her head
toward me and asking me "Um, so what do I need to do to make you
climax?"

I told her "Well, the easiest thing for you would probably be just use
your hand."

"How do I do that?"

"Well, relax your grip a little - thank you! - and sort of slide your
hand up and down it. It helps, too, if you sort of play with my
testicles a little."

"Show me how, would you?"

So, I showed her, a little. Taking her hand in mine, I started
masturbating myself a few times, so that she could get an idea of how
hard to grip and all that. As she got more comfortable with it, I
relaxed my hold on her hand, and eventually left her alone. She proved
to be an apt student, and soon had me looking for release.

Even though she was doing a fine job, and playing with my balls, she
seemed to sense that it wasn't quite enough. It was when she touched
herself between her legs, and felt me stiffen a little more in her hand,
that she got the idea to turn herself toward me, and masturbate herself
while I watched. Watching her as she used her free hand to play with her
breasts and rub her clitoris and caress her labia soon had me close to
coming. I told her that I was close to climax, and she absolutely blew
my mind by sliding a finger into herself, pulling it out, and sucking
the juices off it while staring me in the eye the whole time. It was
enough to push me over the edge, and I started blowing my load. When she
felt my penis start to pulse, she quickly focused her attention on it,
and watched as the first couple of blasts shot semen well into the air,
landing on my chest, and then belly. The ones after that pretty much
stayed on her hand, as she continued stroking me during my climax - and
getting my penis (and her hand) thoroughly wetted with semen.

It was only when I started to soften that she released her grip, and
examined the results of her efforts: first, looking over the accumulated
wetness on her hand, then smelling it. Then she looked at the wads of
semen that rested on my belly and in my pubic hair, feeling their
texture between her fingers. Finally, surprising me, she wiped up the
first spurt that had landed on my chest, and stuck her tongue out to
taste it. She contemplated its flavor for a moment before sticking her
fingers in her mouth, and cleaning them off. The sight of it was
*almost* enough to make me hard again - and if I'd been a few years
younger, probably would have.

Satisfied, she moved up to lay next to me again. After a few moments,
she asked me "I guess that's how a guy climaxes, huh?"

"Yup, you got it - all of it!"

She giggled, and said, "Yeah, I guess I did. It kinda turned you on
watching me do that, didn't it?"

"I thing you know it did, Trouble. Think one of us is weird?"

"No, just that it was fun, knowing that I could have that kind of effect
on you. It felt pretty good, too."

"So you think you could 'do your own thing' now?"

She laughed, and answered,"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I can - with a little
more practice!"

I told her "That's the nice thing about sex - practicing by yourself
doesn't hurt anything, and even helps make you better at it when you DO
have someone else to share it with."

"Really?"

"Yup. The more orgasms you DO have, the more of them you CAN have - it's
kind of like once your body learns how to do it, each time becomes that
much easier. The only trick with doing it with other people is to
remember to pick people that are as interested in you as you are in
them."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, think of it this way: no matter how easy it is for you to have an
orgasm, it doesn't do any good unless the other person cares enough to
_help_ you have one. You understand?"

"Yeah, I think so. You're saying that no matter how much I practice, I
still have to find someone that's interested in ME before it becomes
making love, and not just sex. Kind of like a boy dog having his climax,
and the girl dog not feeling anything about it - he's happy, and she
isn't."

"Yup, that pretty much describes it."

"So, what we just did was making love, even though we didn't actually
have sex?"

"Yeah, I guess that's pretty much what happened. I wanted to make you
happy, and I did. You wanted to make me feel good, and you did. Each one
of us wanted the other one to feel pleasure, and feel _emotionally_
good. We did that, but without having the physical contact that makes
sex. So, yeah, we made love, without having sex." I said, thinking it
through as I spoke.

"I'm glad, Uncle Dan. You're someone really special to me, and I'm glad
that you're the first one I made LOVE with."

"Well, Trouble, I'm glad - now - that I was able to help. I'm just sorry
that I was such a stinker about it before."

"That's okay. I think now that if you were any other way, I wouldn't
have wanted it to be you. Just promise me that next time, you won't be
so much trouble!"

"IF there's a next time, I promise not to give you such a hard time
about it."

"Hmmmph. I'm willing to be that there WILL be a 'next time' - and I'm
going to keep you to that promise!"

After that, we laid there for several minutes, before Jan got the idea
of getting us something more to drink. I was fine with Coke, so she
headed off - still naked, with dried juices shining between her legs -to
replenish us. After she returned, we laid there some more, until she got
another mischievous look in her eye.

Sliding herself down to my hips, she turned herself so that she was
facing me. Once she had my attention, she started caressing herself -
breasts squeezed, nipples pinched and tweaked, and sliding her finger
down between her labia.

After several minutes of this, I could see that she was most definitely
aroused; and that was enough to get me started, as well. When she saw
she was having the (apparently) desired effect, Jan increased her
efforts, using one hand to play with her breasts while the other
continued to caress her labia and clitoris. Soon, she was arching her
pelvis up against her hand, and had developed the blush of arousal all
across her shoulders and upper breasts. By that time, I was nearly fully
erect from watching her. When she saw that I was hard enough, she turned
herself around slightly, so that her ass was pointed toward my head, and
started licking around my penis and testicles, apparently cleaning my
semen off them. The sensation was enough to finish getting me hard, and
when she saw I was ready, moved her attentions to my penis - taking it
in her mouth, but obviously unsure of what to do. I softly told her to
move her mouth up and down on it, like she had with her hand, being
careful to keep her teeth from hurting me. She "Mmmmm-Hmmmmed" around my
penis - a sensation and a half - and started moving over me, while still
using her hand to manipulate her labia and clitoris where I could see
them. After a few moments, I suggested to her that she might want to use
some saliva to lubricate me, and perhaps actually suck on me a little,
too. She readily did both, and it wasn't long before I was enjoying the
efforts of an inexperienced, but enthusiastic, teenager.

It wasn't long before I noticed that she was starting to feel pretty
aroused, herself: she was easily moving her finger in and out of her
vagina, and her juices had gotten her pubic hair thoroughly drenched,
and were even starting to trickle down the insides of her thighs. It
seemed a shame to waste them like that, so I told her to put her leg
over me, so that one was on each side of me. She hesitated for a moment,
but then did it - leaving me with an unobstructed view into her hot
young snatch. I enjoyed the sight for a few moments before reaching up
to pull her hand away, so that I could lean up and start licking and
kissing her. At first, she seemed uncertain about what I wanted, but
when she felt my hands take hold of her ass, spreading her cheeks, and
my warm breath on her labia, she quickly understood what I was up to.

That seemed to inspire her to try new things, herself. She started
varying what she was doing to my penis with her mouth: sometimes she'd
let it pop loose so she could lick it with her tongue. Or she might
focus on the sensitive spot under the glans by tickling it with her
tongue. Or, she might take as much of me as she could manage (more than
I would have thought!), and simply applying suction on me for as long as
she could. Whatever she did, it was enough to keep me hard, and varied
enough to keep me for blowing my load too soon. In return, I repeated my
earlier efforts at stimulating her with my lips and mouth and tongue. My
attempt to slide my tongue along her perineum (the strip between the
genitals and anus) caused her to squeal, and try to move away, so I
didn't press the issue. Instead, I returned my focus to her labia and
clitoris - inserting my tongue as far as it would go into her, and then
wiggling it around, curling it, and so on, which seemed to drive her
crazy. Or placing my whole mouth over the entrance to her vagina, and
trying to suck it into my mouth. Or nibbling at her clitoris with my
lips, and sucking it into my mouth and gently biting on it. Whatever
happened, once I got my mouth on her, I didn't let a single precious
drop of her delicious nectar go to waste.

As all good things (and this was an excellent one!) must, it finally
came to an end: she finally settled on bobbing her head up and down on
my penis, while using her tongue to stimulate me, while I finally
focused on doing firm, steady circles around her clitoris with my
tongue. I started to feel the pressure of my climax in my balls, and
pulled my face away from her just long enough to let her know that I was
about to climax before returning myself to her clitoris. She hummed her
acknowledgement around me, and kept going - so that a little bit later,
she caught the first spurt of my seed in her mouth. She pulled back a
little, until only the head was between her lips, though, and continued
sucking on me - pulling every drop I had out of my balls. She tried to
swallow it as fast as it came out, but there was simply too much of it,
and I could feel some of it leaking out her lips, and sliding down my
penis. What surprised me, though, was that my climax seemed to be enough
to push her over the edge, into her own orgasm: about the third or
fourth blast from my dick, I could feel her tense up as her own spasms
started. What with the sensations I was experiencing, I couldn't really
tell, but it seemed as though this orgasm for her was as strong as the
previous - I thought she was never going to 'come down' from it.
Finally, though, I felt her let my rapidly softening penis drop from her
mouth as she started to gasp for breath.

I gently lowered her, until she was laying on me, and then slowly moved
her over so that she gracefully slid off me, and onto her back. That
done, I slid around so that I was head-to-head with her, and next to
her, taking her into my arms and holding her as she got herself back
together.

After several minutes, she finally opened her eyes again, and looked up
at me with an expression of absolute, total satisfaction, saying"Damn,
that was nice."

"A proper lady doesn't swear like that."

"A proper lady probably doesn't do what we just did, either!"

"Well, there is that, I suppose." I laughed.

"Damn, I like that!"

"Damn you like what? What you did, or what I did?"

"Either. Both. Hell, ALL of it!"

"Tsk, tsk. Such language to come out of such a talented mouth."

"Yeah, well, you're no amateur yourself, there, Uncle Dan!" she said,
followed a moment later with "You mean I did okay?"

"Yes, I think I can safely say you did 'OK', I suppose." I answered,
managing to keep a straight face for all of three or four seconds before
laughing at the expression on her face.

"You rat!"

"C'mon, Trouble. If you'd thought about it for a moment, you would know
you did just fine. After all, didn't you get the results you wanted?"

"Hmmph. Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?" she answered with a smile.

"I can assure you, I found the results MOST satisfactory."

"I'll bet you did - I thought I was going to choke!"

"Trust me - you did a lot better than 'OK'. I haven't experienced
something that intense for quite some time, I assure you."

She smiled at me, and said "Thanks, Uncle Dan - not just for the
compliment, but for what you did for me, too. You're right, the second
one _was_ easier than the first one!"

"Yeah, well, I think maybe the fact that you got a little bit of a head
start on me had something to do with it, too."

She grinned, and asked, "You think maybe? Even so, it took me a lot less
time for the second one than it did the first one."

"Well, I guess that means that you won't be needing my help any more
then, doesn't it?" I asked, with a fake hurt expression on my face.

She wasn't going for it this time, though "Sure. Except when I get the
chance! I'm not going to let you go that easy, Dan."

"No, I suppose you're not. Makes me wonder what kind of monster I've
turned loose on an unsuspecting world...."

"A horny one?", she asked, getting us both laughing.

After that, we lay there quietly for a while, until the chill in the
room started to get to us. I started to get up; saying that I thought a
hot shower was called for, when Jan asked if I'd mind a little company -
all in the interest of safety, of course. I snickered, and gave her the
old 'fish eye', causing her to break into a fit of giggles. Only when
she ran out of breath did she take me by the hand and lead me to the
bathroom, giving me a wonderful show of her tight little ass cheeks
clenching as she walked. Our co-showering lasted only as long as the hot
water before we got out and *meticulously* dried each other off - and
almost getting us started on another hormone rampage. It was only by
noticing the time, and realizing that the boys would be home before
long, that we were able to restrain ourselves. We went back into the
den, and noticing the smell of hot lust in the air, opted to toss
several logs on the fire, so that the air would be drawn out the
chimney, and the smell of the wood could mask the pheromones. We'd only
had the den completely cleaned up for a few minutes before the sound of
the boys being brought home greeted us.

It didn't take much discussion for us to all agree to go out for pizza.
The rest of the evening - and even the week - passed without a hitch. A
couple more times we were able to 'get together' for a little fun and
frolic, but nothing as extensive as that first time.

Paul returned on schedule; he and I agreed that since his plane got in
during the school day, he'd surprise the kids by picking them up
himself.

The rest of the winter pretty much went by normally. Jan found ways to
give us a few hours together a couple of times, each time surprising me
with her openness and willingness to experiment. We were also able to
set new individual records for intensity of orgasms and climaxes; on one
memorable occasion, I thought I was going to turn inside out, through my
penis after she managed to deep throat me to climax. As I'd predicted,
orgasms came (forgive the pun) easier and easier for her. One memorable
time, when I'd joined them for supper, I innocently asked her how things
were going, and got "Oh, everything's pretty well in hand!" for a reply,
nearly giving me a coughing fit a few moments later - amusing her
greatly - when I caught her meaning.

For the next several months, Jan took every chance she had to rub up
against me, give me more-than-brief flashes of her anatomy, grope me,
and do just about anything else she could think of. It slacked off
slightly when Paul was home from his business trips or her brothers Leo
and John were around, but not by a whole lot. Not that I didn't enjoy
it, mind you, it's just that the enjoyment was tempered by waiting for
the other shoe to drop.

A couple of times, I had to pull Authority Figure duty for Paul, while
he was on one of his extended sales trips. During those occasions, Jan
would find (or make) opportunities for the two of us to have some
'private' time together. I was always careful to let her move at her own
pace, and let her lead in how and when we ratcheted up our intimacy
level, for a couple of reasons. First, I genuinely loved her, and didn't
want to do anything to hurt her; and second, I figured my only hope if
her dad ever found out about us would be if I could correctly and
honestly point out that anything she and I had done had been *her* idea
(a feeble excuse, to be true, but...)

On one of those occasions, she managed to get us an entire evening and
night alone together.

I thought she was going to kill me.

">

The boys had gone off to spend the night with a couple of their friends,
and Jan and I had just gone with TV dinners for supper. I was sitting on
the couch in the den, watching TV and hoping that it would be relatively
'quiet' evening. Yeah, right. It started out when Jan got the kitchen
cleaned up, and went into her room. I heard her take a quick shower, but
ignored it. Big Mistake number one. She came flouncing (and believe me,
when a nubile young 15-year-old flounces into a room, you *know* you've
been flounced at!) into the den with me, perfumed, powdered, and wearing
nothing but a smile. That accomplished, she promptly planted her cute
little fanny square on my lap, and my rapidly growing erection. Once
satisfied that she was starting to get the reaction she wanted, she gave
me a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile, and turned herself around so that
she was facing me, with her legs spread and her feet on each side of me
- leaving me one _hell_ of a view. Barely tilting my head, I could see
everything from her nicely rounded, tight little ass to the cleft
between her thighs (where her clitoris and inner lips were both playing
peek-a-boo with me) to her rounded, firm breasts that were capped with
light brown - and definitely erect! - nipples. Moving on up to her face,
I could see that she was waiting to see what my reaction would be.

Figuring that I might be able to derail her plans, I tried something
new:

"Hello, little girl! Would you like a cookie?"

Big Mistake number two.

She promptly started giggling, and then escalated into full laughing
(causing some *very* interesting shockwaves on her anatomy). The net
effect was that I was seriously distracted from my plan to remain as
aloof and unmovable as possible: it's not that I have a _dirty_ mind,
you understand, it's just that so many of my thoughts leave muddy little
footprints.

Once she'd calmed down again, she responded by ripping my shirt open
(surprisingly, no buttons were embedded in the wall), and hugging me
hard enough that I thought the points of her nipples were going to leave
an impression in my _back_. She then let up slightly, and proceeded to
sink her teeth (gently) into my neck, and from there to my shoulder,
where she started 'chewing' - all the while rubbing her crotch against
my now extremely uncomfortable erection.

It was then that I made my last Big Mistake: I tried to move around so
that my erection wasn't being folded in half. It seemed that every time
I even *thought* about moving, she would find a way to take advantage of
it (and me), so that we finally ended up with me on my back, her on top
of me, and the two of us in one ferocious lip-lock and tongue-duel.

At that point, I figured I'd put up enough of a fight for my (tattered)
virtue, and joined in: starting at her shoulders, I slowly traced the
fingertips of each hand down her side and hips, across her buns (pausing
to give them little squeezes), meeting up in the middle just above the
crack of her ass, and back up (fingers spread to cover her entire back)
to just below her neck, where my hands separated to return to her
shoulders. It wasn't more than a couple dozen repetitions of this before
I could feel her nipples pressing into my chest even more, and she
started squirming on me. A few more of these, and she broke our kiss to
come up for air, and a little moaning. A couple more after that, and she
raised herself above me enough that I was able to latch onto one of her
breasts, and proceeded to 'chew' on the areola with my lips while
repeatedly flicking her nipple with my tongue. Judging from the way she
started rubbing her pelvis against me, I figured she was enjoying it, so
I shifted my attention to the other breast, and moving my hands down to
her ass, and caressing and squeezing and massaging it.

As I played with her ass, I kept switching back and forth between her
breasts, sometimes pausing to give her a wide, flat lick with my tongue
in the valley between them as I changed. Other times, I'd branch out a
little, and give her entire breast a tongue-bath, or take part of it
into my mouth and gently, rhythmically suck on it, or softly chew on it.
This went on for several minutes before she finally said something to
me.

"Your pants!"

"What about them?"

"They're in the way! Take 'em *OFF*!"

That said, she raised up even more, turned herself around on me - giving
me a clear view at her engorged inner lips and erect clitoris - so that
she could undo my belt, then my pants, and pushing them down my legs.
When they were finally off, she turned back around - deja view all over
again - and promptly placed her mons on my erection, holding it between
my lower belly and her swollen and slick inner lips. Once settled, she
leaned forward so I could go to work on her breasts again while she went
on to start rubbing herself against my erection - spreading her
lubrication along it's full length, and rocking along it's length, so
that the opening to her vagina would be on the sensitive underside of
the head, and "rolling" her hips until her erect clitoris was pressing
against the bottom of the base, and then back again. In only a few
minutes, she had my penis thoroughly drenched, and her fluids starting
to spread across my belly and testicles. As her liquids were spread
along the length of me, her motions became more and more rapid, until
finally, I could feel her tense up as her orgasm started: it hit her
full strength when she was at the head of my penis, and I could feel the
mouth of her vagina as it made a fluttery, sucking sensation on me. As
her climax progressed, that sensation was enough to move me toward, and
finally over the edge into my own climax. As I felt it start, I couldn't
help but say, "I'm going to shoot!" - which brought her out of the final
stages of her orgasm. She quickly turned again, and just as I felt the
first spasm, she managed to get my penis into her mouth, taking my first
shot on her tongue. As she felt the next spasm start, she took even more
of me into her mouth, and started sucking - almost pulling my jets of
semen into her throat. As my climax lessened, she let a little of my
penis slide out of her mouth, and swallowed all of the sperm that she'd
caught, not letting a drop go to waste. When I finally started to
soften, she released me, and proceeded to lick my penis, then my
testicles, clean of semen, and her juices. As she did that, her pelvis
rested on my chest, where her vagina continued to drool her secretions -
I could smell them quite clearly, which increased the pleasure of my
climax.

A few moments later, she turned back around, and discovered the liquid
souvenir she'd left me. With an impish smile, she licked it up before
lying on top of me with her head on my shoulder. We rested like that for
several minutes with me caressing her back and gently hugging her. When
she started getting feisty again, she started licking and biting my
shoulder. When she started that, I decided to tease her a bit by taking
my fingertips and running them over her ass with a feather-light touch -
particularly when I ran them up and down the cleft between her cheeks.
Before long, she expanded her efforts to include kissing my chest, and
licking and sucking on MY nipples, raising herself onto her hands and
knees to do so. In response, I expanded my caresses to include her hips
and sides; keeping a firm enough touch not to tickle, but soft enough to
tease. Soon, I'd completely relocated my efforts to include her sides
and breasts, which were hanging down quite delightfully: I'd trace a
path from her hips, up her sides to just below her armpits, and down to
the sides of her breasts. From there, I'd take different, and varying
routes - spiraling around her breasts until I reached her nipples, or
tracing curved zigzag patterns to the same target, or simply caressing
her breasts by drawing little lines up to - but not including - her
areolas and nipples. Other times, I'd design little 'patterns' on her
sides and ribcage, avoiding her breasts entirely, or focusing my
attention on her belly or between her breasts. A few minutes of this had
her breathing rapidly, and prompted her to start biting at my chest.
Normally, I'm not into such things, but the situation - and technique
she used - were enough to start my motor, so to speak: my penis started
filling with blood, and went from flaccid to semi-erect much sooner than
I had any right to expect at age 43.

Apparently, what I was doing was having it's effect, as well: looking
down, I could see that her areolas and nipples were as hard as I'd ever
seen them, and I thought that I even saw her pubic hair glistening with
little dewdrops of her essence.

It didn't take long before we were both ready to move things along:

"Trouble, I think we're running out of room."

She gasped her reply "What do you mean?"

"How about we move this down to the floor, so we have some more space?"

"Great! I'll get a blanket, and meet you there!"

She slowly pried us apart, and eventually got focused enough to get up
and get a blanket, while I moved a coffee table over a bit so we'd have
plenty of room. It was only a minute before she was back; together we
spread a blanket, and then laid down on it, side by side.

I started things up again by giving her a butterfly-light kiss on the
forehead, and then progressively more substantial kisses all over her
face before settling in on her lips. She welcomed my attentions by
opening her mouth and sucking on my tongue while she reached up and
started caressing my testicles and giving my nearly erect penis several
series of squeezes. I returned the favor by reaching down and softly
trailing my fingers along the insides of her thighs, from her knees to
her mons - but never quite touching it; always tracing the outline of
her pubic hair to the other side, and back down to the other knee. Other
times, I'd content to gently brush the backs of her thighs; or barely
brush her pubic hair, so that she could feel my almost-touch.

Several minutes of this had me fully erect, and her hunching her pelvis
up toward my hand, trying to get more pressure from my touch. I denied
her that contact; instead, blazing a trail of kisses, little love bites,
small suctions, and lip-nibbles across her upper chest, from shoulder to
shoulder, gradually expanding the range until I finally reached her
breasts. Once there, I gave her right nipple a solid lick with my
tongue, and then softly blew on it, creating a cold sensation that
crinkled her areolas and nipple very nicely. That done, I switched to
the other breast, repeating my actions before taking her hard nubbin
into my mouth and rhythmically sucking on it while I repeatedly flicked
the very end of the nipple with my tongue. A few moments later, I
switched breasts and did it again. Back and forth I went, doing
something to one breast, then repeating it on the other before adding
some other action, and changing breasts again - each time, ratcheting up
the amount of activity and attention I lavished on her. After a few
minutes, I was taking her nipple between my teeth and pulling it away
from her breast before letting it 'snap' back, and tongue-washing her
entire breast before softly blowing air on it, causing her to feel a
cold sensation. By this time, her pelvic actions were almost frantic,
and I finally allowed her to 'capture' my hand: I laid my finger along
the length of her inner lips, and slowly curled it, so that the end of
my finger slid between them and across the entrance to her vagina on the
way up to give her clitoris a little rub before laying my finger flat
against her again. Several repeats of this had her softly moaning, her
breasts tight and hard, with her areolas puckered and her nipples fully
extended.

About that time, she managed to gasp "I want you in my mouth!" - a
request I was happy to oblige.

Deciding to reverse the traditional 69 position, I carefully swung my
leg over her, so that my throbbing penis was over her mouth - though
pointing toward her feet! - and lowered my head to partake of her sweet,
young perfume before placing my mouth on her mons.

No sooner had my lips touched her soft fur than she had grasped my erect
member and angled it down before raising her head to take it's full
length, if only briefly. That done, she lowered her head again, caught
her breath, and began 'walking' her lips up and down it's length while
applying a pulsating suction. In return for the exquisite sensation, I
placed my mouth over as much of her mound as I could - my lips
bracketing her clitoris and vaginal opening. Once set, I set my tongue
to work fluttering across her clitoris while I applied a soft suction to
the rest of her, pulling her inner lips - and sweet, yet tangy
lubrication - into my mouth. We continued like that for a few minutes
before, as though by mutual agreement, releasing our 'captive members'
to catch our breath.

Since age and treachery are usually enough to beat out youth and vigor,
I was first to re-apply myself: lowering my head again, I started by
taking one of her labia in my mouth and sucking on it while 'chewing' on
it with my lips. After only a few moments, she joined in as well, taking
the end of my member into her mouth, and licking and sucking on just the
head of it. About that time, I released the one inner lip and started on
the other, gently holding it between my teeth while using my tongue to
vibrate the very edge of it. She increased her activity by releasing me,
and applying little lip-bites up and down the length of my erection,
twisting her head around so that there was no pattern to her actions,
but still a rhythm. We continued like that, so that each of us would do
something new or different about every 15 or 20 seconds (it seemed both
longer and shorter, at the same time). After several minutes, though, we
had settled into consistent activity: she taking over half my penis into
her mouth and applying a gentle suction before slowly withdrawing until
just the head was in her mouth, when she would rapidly flutter her
tongue against the sensitive underside before taking me back in again.
For my part, I was content with circling and rubbing her clitoris with
my tongue for a few moments before curling my tongue down the cleft
between her lips, where I would apply a few tongue-fuck strokes before
starting over again.

It was during this time that I noticed she was fairly dribbling
secretions - enough so, that the little blossom of her anus was
thoroughly soaked, along with a growing patch of the blanket we were
laying on.

With that discovery, I carefully wet my finger, and used it to start
teasing her anus, and carefully rubbing it.

To my surprise, Jan didn't express any of the hesitation or
squeamishness she had the last time I'd started to pay this much
attention to her nether regions. So I continued my efforts, gradually
increasing the pressure I applied. Before long, I was able to rub her
quite firmly, and even press my finger into her a little way - perhaps
half the first digit.

Over the next couple of minutes, she began bucking up at me as I paid
more and more attention to her clitoris, and a couple of minutes after
that, I could hear - and feel - her start to orgasm. With my finger well
lubricated with her oils and my saliva, I quickly pressed it into her
back opening, and found no difficulty in getting it in all the way. Her
reaction was to absolutely freeze up, every muscle in her body (most of
them, anyway) going absolutely rigid. The way she clamped down during
her first spasm felt like she was going to pinch my finger off - and the
second and third weren't much better. She continued like that for longer
than I'd seen her orgasm before, and much stronger, too. Toward the end
of it, I was starting to worry that she was having some kind of fit, or
had had some kind of stroke or something. It was only when she finally
opened her mouth and gasped were my worries eased. Even then, she
continued to gasp and moan and shudder periodically, giving one
particularly loud gasping moan when I withdrew my finger. Once free to
move, I turned myself around so that my head was next to hers, and held
her next to me as her gasping gradually changed to labored breathing.
When she was finally breathing normally again, I gently lay her down,
and went to get both of us something to drink. By the time I returned
with a couple of sodas, her eyes were open, and she was watching me with
a strange mixture of awe, lust, and satiation. Lying down again, I
lifted her torso up a bit and offered her a drink, which she eagerly
accepted. It took her a couple more sips before she was willing to try
speaking.

"Guh."

"guh, what?"

"Guhdm"

"Guhdm?"

"Guhdam"

"Goddamn?" I asked.

She nodded, and tried again"God-DAMN"

"I take it that's a god-damn as in you liked?"

More nodding, followed with"Godda b'curful"

"Got to be careful?"

Nodding, a pause, then"god wud wushfer"

"Got what wished for? You got what you wished for?"

"Uh"

"Would you like to explain?"

Nod.

"But not yet."

Nod.

"Let me guess. You wished you could have a stronger orgasm."

"sorra"

"Sort of?"

"Uh. wunnud do no eff cudbee"

"You wanted to know if they COULD be?"

"Yuh. udderz good. great! wunnerd if there wuz more."

"Well, Trouble, I guess you got the answer to your question, didn't
you?"

"Uh-huh. wyjoo doodat?"

"Well, you didn't tell me 'no' last time, and since that's a pretty
sensitive spot on most people, I thought I'd try it again, to see if you
liked it. Apparently, you do." I answered, the last part with a smile.

She smiled in return, before saying "Yuh, I guesso. Gimme minnit?"

"Sure"

So we lay there for a little while, with me giving her more to drink
every so often, until she was able to speak fully.

"Um, Uncle Dan, have you ever had anybody do anything like that to you?"

"Yes, Jan, I have. It had pretty much the same impact, but more out of
surprise than anything else, I think. It's been tried since that first
time, but it's not something I particularly liked. It's one of those
personal things common to sex: you've probably heard the term 'different
strokes for different folks'?"

"Yeah. Is that what it means?"

"Sort of. What makes different people happy sexually varies a _lot_.
Believe it or not, there are women that don't like having a man use his
mouth on them, or men that don't like having a woman use HER mouth in
HIM."

"Okay, I kinda get it. Kind of like I like guys to have a tight butt,
but my friend Kelly likes cute faces."

"That's pretty much it - except that with sex, it's a lot more varied,
and sometimes, a lot more - um - different."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, what kinds of thinks make you feel excited?"

She blushed a bit, and said "Um, sometimes I feel that way when I see
the boys in gym class. The, uh, ones with bulges in their, um, gym
shorts."

"Don't worry, that's absolutely normal. But imagine if you felt that way
when you saw something that wasn't human."

"Like what?", she asked, with a frown.

"Well, believe it or not, there are people - mostly men - that only feel
completely aroused by the sight of something like high-heel shoes, for
example."

She looked at me as though I'd sprouted antlers.

"No, really, there are. That kind of thing is called a 'fetish', and can
involve almost anything you can think of. There are folks that only feel
excited at the idea of wearing leather, or rubber. There are people that
can only climax when someone is peeing on them, or they are peeing on
someone else, which is called 'watersports'. Others find satisfaction in
causing pain in others - Sadism - or feeling pain themselves -Masochism.
Then there is Bondage, where people get involved in ropes and knots and
such; and Discipline, where there is a kind of master-and-slave
relationship."

By now, she seemed pretty well convinced that I was lying to her, and
that I was making the whole thing up.

"Honestly, Trouble, such things are out there. You look like you don't
believe me, but it's easy enough to check: the next time you're online,
look them up yourself. You'll find that I'm only telling you about the
more common ones; there are a _whole lot_ more of them out there."

That seemed to convince her enough to let that particular subject drop.
But she continued with "So, does that mean that I have one of these
fetishes because I liked it when you put your finger, you know, *there*?
That I'm some kind of pervert, or sick or something?" she asked,
worried.

"Not at all. I'm just guesstimating, but I'd say that probably a third
of all women in the industrial world find _some_ kind of attention like
that to be pleasurable. Perhaps half of those actually find it sexy, and
perhaps half of those wouldn't mind - if not actually enjoy - having
something 'more', if you understand."

I could see her thinking about that for a few moments before her eyes
got real big, and she asked me "You mean for a man to put his, um, penis
*THERE*?"

"Yup."

"Sounds kinda gross - and scary."

"How gross it is depends on the woman's, shall we say, hygiene? Scary is
something else. Remember, the same way that a woman's vagina can stretch
to fit almost any man, that part of the body stretches like that every
time your bowels move."

"Okay, I guess. I see what you mean about the second part, and I guess I
can trust you about the first part."

"Someday, you'll find out for yourself about the way you stretch inside
- but there's no hurry, right?"

"No, no hurry. On _any_ of it." she answered, with a smile.

We both lay back after that, and it was a couple minutes later, when she
reached over to hold my penis that she said "Uncle Dan?"

"Yes?"

"You didn't, um, climax that time, did you?"

"No, Jan, I didn't. Don't worry about it, though. Making you feel good
was enough for me."

"Well, it's not enough for me!" she responded, and proceeded to move
over me, lowering her head to take my flaccid penis into her mouth.
Applying a soft suction, and tickling the underside of the head with her
tongue, she soon had me fully erect.

That accomplished, she really went to work on me.

Going at me from the side, she started by trying to wrap her tongue
around me, and sliding it up and down the length of me, getting me
thoroughly coated with her saliva. From there, she used her tongue to
tickle down my erection to my balls, where she carefully licked my
scrotum before sucking in each testicle, and rolling it around in her
mouth before softly kissing her way back up to the head of my quivering
member. She again took me into her mouth, and went about sliding her
lips up and down my erection, always keeping it moist with her saliva,
while using her tongue to press and stimulate different parts as she
moved. Holding my balls in her hand, she could feel when I particularly
enjoyed something she did, and would repeat it for a while, gradually
bringing me closer and closer to my own climax. When I was at the very
peak of arousal, and on the very edge of losing it, she seemed to sense
it, and backed off a bit, letting me calm down before starting up again.

Each time, the peak was a little higher, and it took a little longer
before I slid back enough for her to continue. Perhaps a half dozen
times she did this before finally having pity on me, and allowing me to
climax: when I finally felt that first clench start down in my balls,
she took a deep breath, and took as much of me as she could in her mouth
- her nose was _just short_ of my pubic hair, and I could feel the
muscles of her throat about halfway down the head of my penis as she
applied all the suction she could muster. When my first spurt erupted
against the back of her throat, she almost gagged - *almost*. Instead,
she gulped and swallowed it, making her throat muscles do a kind of
pinching against the head of my penis, making the next shot nearly as
strong as the first. It seemed as though every shot I delivered was as
powerful as the first - even though I 'know' it couldn't have been. It
felt as though my balls were going to come out the end of my dick, so
powerfully was I climaxing. By the time she finally released me to catch
her breath, I felt like something the cat dragged in, chewed up, and
spit out - I could barely *breathe*, never mind _move_ anything. For her
part, Jan licked her lips to make sure she hadn't missed anything,
licked my penis clean, and laid down on top of me. When I'd caught my
breath, she looked up at me, and after a moment's hesitation, kissed me
full on the lips. When I didn't react, she seemed satisfied, and let her
head rest on my chest for a while.

I apparently fell asleep, because I woke up a bit later with Jan next to
me, one leg over mine, her breasts pressing into my side, her head on my
shoulder, and her arm across my chest - and both of us covered by
another light blanket.

When I started to move a little, she looked up at me and asked, "You
remember when I kissed you?"

"Which one? I remember pretty much _all_ of them, Trouble!"

She dimpled at me, and amplified "I mean, a little bit ago. After I, you
know, used my mouth on you."

"I'm dead, not senile. Of course I remember it."

She laughed, and said, "Well, I was kind of surprised."

"Why?"

"Well, I mean, I had just, you know, *finished* you, and I though you
might be grossed out or something about kissing me after I'd, um, done
that."

"No, I wasn't grossed out, or anything. Why would I be?"

"I don't know. I just thought you might be."

"Well, you've kissed me after I've used *my* mouth on *you*, right? Why
should it be any different when it's you doing me?"

"I guess it shouldn't, but I've heard some of the other girls, you know,
the, uh, experienced ones. They say that when they do that, their
boyfriends don't want to kiss them for a while."

"I guess their boyfriends are just losing out on a good kiss, then. I
suppose it would be different if you tried to keep all my sperm in your
mouth and give it back to me that way, or there were drops of it on your
lips or something, but as long as you were reasonably polite about it,
no, I don't mind."

That seemed to satisfy her, and she let her head rest on my shoulder
again for a while - at least, until I absolutely HAD to get up and go to
the bathroom.

When I opened the door afterwards, I found her standing there with a
towel in her hand and a smile on her face and nothing obstructing the
view between. Here and there on her anatomy I could see little
reflective spots, the dried remains of our activities.

She giggled at the expression on my face, and told me "I think we BOTH
need a shower, don't you?"

"Under the circumstances, I agree - wholeheartedly. Just promise to be
gentle with me, this time, okay?"

She giggled again, and said "As gentle as I can."

Seeing the smoky look in her eye, I wasn't particularly reassured, but
headed toward the shower anyway - now that she'd mentioned it, I had to
admit I was glad I wasn't downwind of myself.

Once she was next to me, I suggested "How about a bit of a bath, first?
We can soak up some heat first, and relax a little more before cleaning
up."

She readily agreed, and had me stand back while she got the tub started
- although I _think_ her motives were just to take care of me, the
effect was something else. When she bent over to close the drain and
start the water, she left me with view of her backside that would have
made Jell-O hard. As I looked at her nicely curved, tight, smooth ass, I
was surprised to feel my penis start to fill, and twitch. Looking a
little closer, I could see the softly furred cleft of her sex peeking at
me from between her thighs, and the dewy lips of her labia.

When she figured there was enough water, she turned around, and saw the
state I was in. She laughed and said, "I guess you're not dead, after
all. I guess I'll have to take care of that, won't I?"

"Trouble, it's not a request, just an involuntary reaction to the view
you gave me when you bent over. I don't want you to think that you've
got to 'take care of' me that way."

She gave me the Goober look, and answered "Uncle Dan, I already *know*
that I don't 'have' to do anything with you. I _like_ having fun with
you like this. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't know what an orgasm was
like, or how to make myself feel good; and I'd still be worried about
whether or not I was weird somehow, you know, physically, or that my
boobs were too small or that I didn't have enough hair down there and
that kind of stuff. You've helped me feel good about myself, and even
about who I am and like that."

"Jan, I just want to make sure you understand that as much fun as it is
for me to be 'teaching' you and having fun like this, I don't expect -
and particularly don't _demand_ - that you do or don't do anything with
me. If you wanted to stop right now, and never have us spend any time
together like this again, I'd do it *gladly*. You've made an old man
like me very happy these last few months, and I thank you for it. I need
to be sure you understand that you don't 'owe' me anything, and that
you're free to stop any or all of this at any time, without me being
upset or angry with you."

Another, milder, Goober look. "I already told you, I know that. It's
nice knowing that you love me that way, more than you love me for this"
- gesturing to her body -"and that you want what's right for me. When I
do things with you, it's because it's a physical way for me to tell you
'thank you' for all the help you've given me, and all the love you've
shown me. I don't think you understand how worried I was that first time
we, uh, talked. There was all kinds of stuff going through my mind, like
my boobs were too small, that maybe I was weird down there between my
legs, and that kind of stuff. Now I'm not ashamed of myself like I was
before - as you can see! - and you've made me happy about who I am, on
the inside, I mean." She paused a moment before continuing "I used to be
*so* 'in love' with one of the boys in school that I would have done
_anything_ - yes, I mean anything - to have him as a boyfriend. But
because of what I've learned from you, and not just the physical love
stuff, I realized that he's just a selfish, demanding stinker. If it
wasn't for you, *I* would have been one of his girlfriends by now. But
because of what you've taught me about the difference between sex and
love, I started listening to some of the stuff people said about him,
and looked at the way he treated the girls he took out, and decided I
didn't want to be one of *them* - the ones that everybody talks about. I
didn't listen to that kind of talk about him before, but YOU have taught
me to respect, and even honor, myself. So, when he asked me to go out
with him, I wasn't afraid to tell him 'no' - because of how you are with
me, I've learned to expect BETTER from any guy that wants me to go out
with him."

Seeing from my expression that she was having an impact, she went on
"Uncle Dan, from the first time you saw me in my bedroom" - I decided
that she HAD gotten comfortable about the topic of sex, since she didn't
blush - "I've watched you. You have never, EVER done or said anything to
make me uncomfortable about this sex stuff. And I KNOW that you wouldn't
do anything to hurt me, either physically or in my heart - I KNOW that
you love me almost as much as Daddy does. I KNOW that I can stop all
this any time I want, because I know that I can TRUST you. I KNOW that
if I wanted to stop, you wouldn't be mad at me or do anything to make me
unhappy or feel bad. Sometimes when I was, you know, teasing you, it was
kind of a way for me to find out if you were going to try to, like,
*own* me or something, or to see if you were going to try to make things
happen too fast. You have ALWAYS been polite and considerate and gentle
and patient with me - even though I know that sometimes I pushed you way
too hard on a lot of things. Because of how honest you've been with me,
and the way you've treated me, I'm even understanding why you felt like
you had to have that talk with Daddy about me and sex education. I've
told some of my friends about some of the things that I've learned, both
on the Internet and with you - don't worry, I never tell them exactly
*where* I learn stuff! - and I know that a couple of them really do
_need_ to talk to somebody about it. It's kind of like I'm in the same
position you were in: someone I care about needs help with something
that they've trusted me not to talk about with anyone else, so I have
the problem of finding a way of getting them that help without betraying
the trust they showed me by talking to me in the first place."

"Trouble, if you're at the point where you understand that kind of
problem, and are having trouble with it, I guess I have to admit that
you really are a lot more mature than most people would give you credit
for. Do you ever talk with your dad about any of this kind of stuff?"

"No, not really."

"I think maybe you should consider it. I mean, I'm glad to talk to you
about it and all that, but I'd be a whole lot happier if I wasn't the
only one you were talking to. I mean, he's your _dad_, and he's got the
right - and obligation - to know what you're thinking and what's going
on in your life. Besides that, it will help him understand how mature
you are; and once he knows that, I expect he'll be willing to trust you
more, and not be as fussy about where you are and who you're there
with."

"You really think so?"

"Yup - to _all_ of it."

"I guess I can try it."

"Trust me - he'll be glad you're willing to talk to him, and it will
give you and him another way to get to know each other. He's always
going to think of you as his 'little girl', but if you can talk to him,
it will help him realize you're also becoming a young woman, too."

"Yeah, I guess I can see that."

"Now, before we both freeze or something, how about that bath?"

She laughed and took my hand as we both got into the spa-sized tub they
had in the 'public' bathroom. After a few false starts, we finally got
situated with us fairly well stretched out, facing each other but side-
by-side. I couldn't help but put my hand on her thigh, and moving back
and forth, gently caressing her as the heat from the water slowly soaked
into my body. For her part, she was content to simply rest her arm on my
leg, with her hand on her belly. We laid like that for probably twenty
minutes, with Jan periodically letting a little water out before adding
more hot, and thus keeping the tub temperature nice and high.

Finally, though, we started looking like a couple of albino raisins, and
she let the water drain completely; though the bathroom was warm enough
now that we didn't miss it all that much.

I was just starting to think about getting up when I heard her say, "I
want to watch you."

"You want to watch me what?"

"Masturbate."

"Uh, maybe you didn't realize, but when I have to do it myself, I use my
hand, pretty much the same way you do when you play with me."

"I know that, silly. I just want to watch you do it. I think it would be
sexy!"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not exactly in the mood or condition
to do it just now. You pretty much wore me out, that last time."

"Would this help?" - and with that, she lifted the leg next to me and
put it on the other side of mine, turning herself so that I had a nice,
clear view of the area between her legs as she slowly ran her finger
from bottom to top of her cleft.

Yeah, it helped. More than I would have thought it could. I'd thought I
was 'sexed out' for the night, but she seemed to have a talent for
helping me find hidden reserves. Of all kinds of things.

I felt my previously flaccid penis twitch, which gave her the
affirmation she seemed to need: continuing to run her finger through her
slit, she used the other hand to start caressing her breasts, focusing
on her nipples which seemed to jump out at the attention. That got me
going a little (okay, a lot) more, and I could feel myself become semi-
erect. When she gave me a 'Well? What are you waiting for?" look, I took
matters into my own hand, so to speak: gently stroking myself until I
was completely hard as I watched her continue to fondle herself - even
as she dipped a hand down to caress and prod at her anus.

Over the next several minutes, we continued slowly masturbating
ourselves, each feeding on the sight of the other becoming more and more
aroused. Surprisingly, neither of us was paying particular attention to
what the others hands were doing; instead, we were focused on each
other's eyes and faces, sharing the _intimacy_ of the act, rather than
the act itself. When I saw her curl her middle finger, so that part of
it rubbed her clitoris as the end partially entered her vagina, it was
enough to start me on the climb toward release. Apparently, the change
in my attitude and activity was enough to get her started, as well,
since I saw her hand start moving more insistently against her crotch
while her other squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples even
harder.

For once, my age worked in my favor: my previous experiences that night
were sufficient to let me delay long enough that that I didn't unload
before she had a chance to orgasm again. We must have been at roughly
the same arousal; I say 'roughly' because I was the one to climax first,
sending my first shot nearly to my feet, and my second to my knees. The
rest were much less powerful, but the sight was enough to nudge her into
her own climax: I got to watch her belly heave and her vaginal lips
pulse and quiver slightly as her spasms hit her, while she continued
rubbing her erect and very visible clitoris.

During all this, the bathroom had slowly bled off the heat from the tub,
so by the time the few minutes it took us to catch our breath again went
by, it was mildly cool. By mutual consent, we got up and got the shower
started, as hot as we could stand it. The shower itself didn't take
long, even though neither of us was in any hurry to stop the caressing
and hugging and kissing as we washed each other off. After we'd gotten
out, she dried me off first, letting her hands tarry at various and
sundry parts of my anatomy. For my part, I softly kissed anything I
could lay lips on while drying her off - and even for a bit afterwards.

As we were leaving the bathroom, I saw her yawn, and realized that it
was getting late into the evening, and pointed that fact out to her.

"Um, Uncle Dan?"

"Yes, Jan?"

"Can I, uh, *sleep* with you tonight?" she asked hesitantly.

I understood, of course, that she wanted the physical companionship of
being next to me, not more physical intimacy.

I gave the idea some thought: the boys weren't back until shortly before
lunch the next day, so they weren't any particular concern. What *did*
worry me, though, was the idea of the two of us being so close to each
other for such an extended period of time without being fully awake and
aware of what we were doing.

"Yeah, I guess we can do that - as long we both at least wear underwear,
so that there aren't any, uh, accidents."

"That's okay; I kinda like it better, you know? But do I have to wear a
bra, too, or is just panties enough?"

"I expect that panties are enough." I answered with a short laugh.

"Goody. I want to feel as much of you next to me as I can."

Now my conscience got to me: where to sleep that was big enough for both
of us? The idea of 'just' sleeping with his daughter in Paul's bed
seemed a bit like treachery; and the thought of sleeping in _her_ bed
brought on feelings of cradle robbing.

She seemed to know what was bothering me, and suggested an obvious
answer that I would have gotten to, eventually: "Can we sleep on the
floor in the den? Like on a blanket or two, and maybe with just a little
fire going?"

"Sure, that would be nice. But I think we'll need another blanket to
cover up with. We probably ought to get fresh blankets to sleep on,
since _somebody_ 'perfumed' the other one", I teased.

She got a playfully indignant look on her face, and answered with"Yeah,
because *another* person JUST..... COULDN'T.... be happy making
'somebody' happy, they had to make 'somebody' ecstatic!"

I put a shocked/horrified look on my face for a few seconds before the
two of us nearly collapsed in laughter. It finally ended when I said,
"I'll get the den ready, and you get the blankets, okay?"

She agreed, and a couple minutes later, I'd cleared the area in front of
the fireplace and had a couple of smallish logs on the grate, ready to
light. When she brought in the blankets, we took two of them and spread
them out for sleeping on, and got the other ready to cover us with. She
took the first one into the laundry room to be washed the next day, and
I put on my underwear before starting the fire (gotta keep the
priorities straight!). About the time I was satisfied that it was
burning properly, she reappeared, having made a detour to put on a pair
of her panties. I was surprised to see that she'd apparently been
allowed a visit to Victoria's Secret, since they were some of the
smallest, filmiest panties I'd ever seen on a female: they looked to be
little more than smoke held together with dental floss, with the dark
smudge of her pubic hair plainly visible in front, and little more than
a few threads tracing up through the crack of her ass to join the ones
around her waist.

When I finally raised my eyes to look at her face, she smiled and said
"I know what kind of shorts you wear, so I didn't think I needed to get
_too_ fussy about 'protecting' myself."

"Jan, those things aren't even *close* to protecting yourself. Fact is,
they're a helluva lot closer to Incitement to Riot!"

She dimpled at me, and came over to give me a hug before leading me down
to the blankets we'd set up.

There was a moment's hesitation, and I could almost feel her wanting me
to take the lead, so I selected the left side of blanket as we looked
down at it, and sat, then laid, on it, sliding my feet and legs under
the 'cover' blanket. She repeated my actions on the other side, and we
lay there on our sides, facing each other.

We looked into each other's eyes for several moments before she spoke:
"Uncle Dan?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I love you, you know."

"Yeah, I know. And you know that I love you, too."

"I've known it for a long time; I just didn't know how *much* you loved
me. Not the have sex kind of love, but the worry about me and want to
protect me kind."

"Yup."

"Well, I just wanted you to understand that *I* understand." - and with
that, she turned over onto her other side, and slid back against me. I
put my arm around her, so that my hand was on her belly, but she took it
and moved it up so that it was holding her breast, and held it there.

Thinking about some of the things she'd said that night, I knew that the
vast majority of her growing-up fears were gone, and that she had her
head on a whole lot straighter than a lot of the so-called adults that I
knew. And thinking about what she'd told me after we'd laid down, I felt
a sense of peace and contentment - and yes, even love - that I hadn't
felt in entirely too long. With those happy thoughts and feelings, I
soon drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up to find that we hadn't moved much during the
night - except that she'd gotten her butt tucked into my lap, and
resting firmly on a morning hard-on. As nice as it felt having her
there, I *really* had to get up and take a leak. As I started to
disentangle myself from her, she woke up a bit, and turned her head to
me to murmur,"Don't go."

"Sorry, Darlin', but your Uncle Dan really needs to visit the little
boys' room."

She snickered a bit, and said "Little boy, my foot.", but let me go.

A couple minutes later, feeling much refreshed and relaxed, I rejoined
her. As I put my arm around her again - this time just cupping her
breast myself - she wiggled her butt back into my lap, where she could
feel a new erection growing. A little more wiggling, and she had me hard
enough that she was able to position herself that it rested neatly
between her ass cheeks. I heard a soft "MMMMMmmmmmmmm" and felt the
nipple in my hand harden a bit as she drifted off to sleep again.

When I woke up next, I was on my back with Jan somewhat draped across
me: one leg over my hips, her arm across my chest, and her head on my
shoulder. I could feel the breath of her exhalations as it blew across
my chest hairs. Moving carefully, I was able to get my arm around her,
so that it went across her back with my hand on her hip. Lying there
like that, the love I felt for her nearly burst my chest, and I couldn't
help but start stroking her back and side, marveling at the smooth
softness of her skin. Positioned as she was, I could smell the fragrance
of the perfume she'd had me use when I washed her hair the night before
- a soft, flowery scent that brought back all manner of pleasant
memories.

Apparently, she'd been awake for I don't know how long, because when I
tilted my head up to kiss the top of her head, she looked up at me long
enough to say "Good morning, Uncle Dan."

"Good morning to you, too, Sunshine."

"It wasn't a dream, was it?", she asked, talking into my left
nipple/microphone.

"What wasn't a dream?"

"Last night."

"No, it wasn't a dream. Why, did you think it was?"

"I wasn't sure - until I woke up like this, with you holding me."

"Well, I'm glad you thought it was a dream, and not a nightmare" I
teased.

She looked up at me again, and said, "No, I know that you could never do
anything to give me a nightmare. It's just that you make me feel so good
that sometimes I'm not sure it's really happening. Like right now - I
like how warm you are, and how good it feels to have your skin touching
mine this way. I really like the way you feel when you're rubbing me
like that on my back."

"I like it to; that's why I'm doing it. Your skin feels soft and smooth
and warm, and it makes me happy to be able to touch you."

"I like you touching me, too - especially like that."

"Like what?"

"Like now. I can feel how strong your hands are, but they're not hard or
rough. The way you touch me, it's soft, like you want to feel my skin,
but not tickling. I know you're doing it because _you_ like it, but it's
like you're doing it so that *I* like it, too. As though you care about
me, and not just you."

"Trouble, I *do* care about you."

"I know, that's what I mean. You're not just making YOU happy, but
you're making ME happy, too."

"Ahhhhhh, now I understand what you're saying. You're telling me that
you love me, because I love you."

"What do you mean?"

"I love you, and I'm taking pleasure in being able to touch and caress
you this way. BECAUSE I love you, I'm trying to do it in such a way that
YOU take pleasure in it, too. Remember when I told you that love is when
another person's happiness means as much to you as your own?" - a nod -
"Well, because you feel the love I have for you, and am giving you,
you're loving me in return. And that makes me love you even more. Love
between two people that aren't family is a rare and precious thing: when
it happens just right, the two people kind of feed off of each other,
like we are now - I'm touching you because it makes me happy. And
because I love you, I want to touch you in a way that makes you happy,
too. Because the way I touch you DOES make you happy, you know that I
love you, and you love me, too. Because you love me too, you're happy to
LET me touch you, and because you're happy to let me touch you, that
means that I get to touch you more, making me more happy, and so on. Get
it?"

"Yeah! That's just how it feels! I hadn't thought of it that way before,
but I understand what you're saying! And what you told me before about
the difference between having sex and making love means a whole lot
more, too."

"Congratulations. You now understand something that most people only
have the vaguest idea about. There's only one problem."

"What?"

"I'm afraid that I may be spoiling you for any guy that you might meet
later - knowing what you do now, I don't think you're ever going to be
truly happy with someone that isn't willing to give you true, honest
love in return for the love you have for them. You may end up looking
for the right person - male or female doesn't matter so much as the
actual LOVE that needs to be there for you to be really happy with them
- for a long time."

"Yes, Uncle Dan, I think maybe you *are* spoiling me for other men - I
don't know about women, at least, not yet. But you're not giving
yourself enough credit."

"How's that?"

"When you talk to me like this, you're also helping me have the strength
and courage *to* wait until I meet that person, and the knowledge that
such people *do* exist. Maybe I _will_ have to wait a long time, but now
I know it'll be worth it."

Jeez, I wished *I* had been this smart and savvy and together when I was
her age! Anyway, since there really wasn't anything I _could_ say to
that, I just let it go, and we lay there a while, just enjoying each
other's company.

Finally, though, we realized that we really DID have to get up and clean
the place up a bit before the boys got home.

">

It was about mid-March, and we were having a bit of early spring
weather. Paul had had to go out of town on a business emergency (an
oxymoron, as he pointed out to me) for the weekend. Jan had previously
arranged to have 'a few' (8!!) of her friends over for a slumber party
of sorts, and I got drafted (sure, hurt me - make me look at a jiggle
[that seems to be an appropriate name for the grouping] of
teenyboppers!). It was to start late Friday afternoon, and finish up
after lunch the next day. Over the years, I'd seen and briefly met all
of them at various times, but still didn't have a clue as to specifics.

Once all the girls arrived, they naturally bunched up in Jan's room - at
least, at first. Before long, though they were finding reasons/excuses
to come out into the den, into the living room, the kitchen (a LOT), out
onto the patio, and so on. Leo and John quickly tired of it, and took
refuge in their room, playing Nintendo with their door closed. My
patience was starting to wear a bit thin, as well, and when I got a
chance to talk to Jan, explained to her about the havoc her friends were
causing. She apologized, and I told her that it wouldn't bother me so
much if I could just have _one_ room to 'hide' in. She laughed, and
agreed, asking me which cave I wanted. After a moments thought, I
suggested the Den - the doorway to the patio was at one end of it, with
the TV and stereo at the other, so I could keep myself amused and still
give them pretty much unrestricted access to the patio. She readily
agreed, and as I headed into the den to get settled, she went back to
her room to let her friends know what the situation was. Surprisingly,
they seemed to take it fairly well, and when they made the transition
from house to patio, they at least *tried* to be quieter. Not always
successfully, mind you, but enough so that I could live with it for the
evening.

As the evening went on, the weather outside cooled appreciably, and the
girls gradually stopped the outdoor activities - and commenced the
indoor ones. There was the apparently obligatory pillow fight, extensive
make-up testing and consultation, and so on. Things really got
interesting, though, about the time the late news came on: the girls had
all changed into their sleeping outfits, and decided that they _really_
needed to watch the weather with me, so they could make plans for the
next day. A couple of the girls had opted for ordinary flannel
nightgowns; the rest had apparently decided that they wanted to show off
to each other how sexy they could look. None of the remaining outfits
were exactly revealing - transparent, or anything like that - but were
form-fitting and thin enough to not leave much to my (quite active)
imagination: more that a few nipples were detectable, nor was it
difficult telling who the natural blondes were.

Only Jan was relaxed at first while they were in the den; as the rest
realized that I wasn't ogling them, or seeming to take any notice of
them at all, they gradually relaxed. Of course, if they could have read
my mind, they'd have all slapped me silly, repeatedly. Jan, of course,
knew what was going on in my mind - when we locked eyes one time, she
gave me an impish smile before returning to the TV.

Once they'd decided they'd had enough, the all trooped back to Jan's
bedroom, where I heard a lot of whispering and giggling before the door
closed.

When the news ended, it didn't take me long to decide that there wasn't
anything I wanted to watch on television, so I shut it off, got some
Bach going on the stereo, and just laid down on the couch with a book
I'd brought.

I heard a couple of shrieks back in Jan's room, but ignored them (by
then, I _really_ should have known better). Several minutes later, one
of the girls came into the den and stood by the couch until I put the
book down and looked up at her. Dimpling a little at me, she asked if it
was okay if they had some sodas; since they'd been drinking them all
evening, I knew that wasn't the reason for her visit, and raised an
eyebrow. She explained that they'd run out of the ones the girls had
brought, and wanted more from Paul's stocks. I said it was okay, and she
headed off into the kitchen - but not before shrugging her shoulders,
drawing my eyes to the interesting sympathetic motions on her chest,
which was what she seemed to be waiting for. A few moments later, I
heard Jan's door close, and a minute or two later, some more shrieking
as I returned to my book. I hadn't gotten more than a couple of pages
(I'm a speed reader) before I noticed another one of the girls
approaching. Again, she stood by the couch, and asked if they could have
some snacks - again using the 'we ran out' excuse. I told her it was
fine, and she promptly turned around to head for the kitchen. Turning
quickly enough, I might add, that the hem of her nightie flared up,
giving me a nice view of her ass as she walked away. Repeat door closing
and shrieking.

Now, I'm not a genius, but I'm starting to detect a pattern, here. So I
just wait a bit, and sure enough, here comes another one of them.

Since I'm not reading this time, I can surreptitiously watch all the
sympathetic motion on her body as she walks toward me. I'm wondering
what they can ask for now, since they've got drinks and munchies; she
surprises me a little by asking if there are any big marshmallows. I
tell her where they are, and she heads off to the kitchen. The cabinet
with the marshmallows is in sight, so I can see when she opens it up and
(unnecessarily) stretches up to pull the bag out - giving me a nice
silhouette view of her ass and bust in the process. With them in her
hand, she turns and smiles at me before heading back to Jan's room.
Door, then shrieking.

Yup. They're up to something. I don't know what the rules are, or what
the purpose is, but the apparent 'deed' is to get me to 'look' at them.
Not that I mind, you understand, it's just that if *I* knew what the
rules were, I'm thinking I could work them to my advantage, perhaps.
Devious, yes, but then, it wasn't my game, either.

Enough time went by that I figured it was just those three that were
involved, and went back to my book, thinking it was over.

Wrong.

Several pages later, here comes a fourth - only this time, she's there
to ask if it's okay if they have a little fire in the fireplace and
toast marshmallows. I give it some though, and finally agree, with the
condition that they not get too loud, so I can listen to the music and
read my book. She looks a little disappointed, but agrees, and quickly
heads back to Jan's room. Sure enough, they come swarming into the den a
minute or so later. A little discussion among them, and they realize
that none of them has the slightest clue on how to get a fire going in
the fireplace, so yet _another_ one approaches to ask me to start it for
them. I get it set up, and a few minutes later, there's a nice, if
small, fire going. As I'm heading back to the couch, a couple of them
ambush me by grabbing my arms, and pressing themselves into me, on the
excuse of thanking me for helping them. Since I can feel their firm
young breasts pressing into my arms and sides, it's no lie for me to
tell them that it was my pleasure. They seem to get the joke, and giggle
at me before letting me go.

As I clear the group, they all cluster around the fire, and start
passing out the marshmallows.

Maybe fifteen minutes went by, and I manage to get nearly a chapter done
in my book before I start hearing whispering among the girls. Somehow, I
don't think this is a good thing.

Sure enough, here comes one of the more 'developed' girls, wearing a
baby blue 'shortie' nightie and panty set that is thin enough to make
clear that she has a well-developed bush and half-dollar sized areolas
with large-crayon diameter nipples.

When I manage to drag my eyes up to her face, she's grinning at me, and
says "Um, Dan?"

"Yes?"

"We're all wearing our favorite nightgowns, and we can't decide which
one is sexiest."

"And?"

"And we were hoping you could help us by being a judge for a contest."

"What makes you think I'd be a fair judge? After all, I'm Jan's kind-of
adopted uncle."

"We talked about that, and Jan says she knows you wouldn't pick what
she's wearing just because it's her. But she said she's willing to not
be in the contest, if it would make you feel better."

"But if she isn't in it, that's not fair to her, then, is it?"

"No, I guess not."

"Okay, I'll be the judge - IF you can find another way for me to judge
the nightgowns without judging the girl inside."

I could see that kind of threw her, but she agreed, and went back to the
rest of them. I didn't figure they would be able to find a way out of
that, and that I was off the hook, and went back to my book. There was a
lot of muttering and whispering, and much to my surprise, she was back a
few minutes later with a proposal.

"Dan?"

"You characters figure something out? What is it?"

She giggled a bit and said, "We talked about it, and Kelly had the idea
that we could each wear all the different outfits."

"How would that work?"

"Well, we're all pretty close in size, so they should all fit okay. What
we thought was that we could all line up, and you would look us over.
Then we'd all go back, change, and line up again. We'd do that until all
of us had worn every one else's stuff, and then you could let us know
which one you liked best."

Much to my surprise, it actually sounded reasonably fair - and more than
a little fun for me.

Behind her, I could see the rest of the girls were anxiously watching to
see what my reaction would be - except for the couple that were in the
flannel jobs, who looked a little disappointed.

"What about the girls in the long nightgowns? Do they want to sit it
out, or do they want to participate?"

The question seemed to surprise her a bit, and she went back to the
group so they could talk it over. A few moments later, she was back,
telling me "Um, they want to be in it, too, but don't think their gowns
would look right in the line."

"Okay, how about this: it goes like you said, EXCEPT that whichever
girls are wearing the flannel just stay out of the line? They can wait
back in Jan's room or sit off to the side, or wherever they want to, as
long as they're not actually in the line."

She perked up a bit at that, and headed back to the group again. More
discussion, some whispering, and she was back, saying "That's a good
idea, and everybody agrees. We decided that whoever is wearing the
flannel should sit on the couch, so they can see, but so that they don't
interfere with the judging. Is that okay?"

"Suits me. You all get it worked out, and let me know when you're ready
to start. But just to be fair, I'm going to identify the sets and keep
score on paper. What are the rules?"

"Um, just that you look at all the gowns, and decide which one you think
is sexiest, I guess."

"I think it would be fair if there was a time limit for each judging
session - say two minutes? - before you all change."

"Uh, how about making it 5 minutes?"

"I can live with that. If you're really serious about this, though, you
should do it so that the _gowns_ are the important part." I knew by now
that the gowns were the least important part of it to them, but I'm
willing to play along.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they should be in the same order each time, from my left to my
right, and you should figure out how to get in here and back out without
having me look at one gown more than the rest. You understand?"

"Yeah, I think so. The first gown that comes in should be the first gown
that goes out, right?"

"That's the idea, yeah."

"Okay, that sounds right; we'll do it that way."

"Fine, you squirrels get it organized while I get some paper to write
on."

With that, I went into the living room, where I knew Paul kept a notepad
to write on, and got it, along with a pen.

When I got back, they were still in the living room, but Jan had moved
up to take the lead. I looked at her inquisitively, and she explained
"We decided that you should go ahead and make your notes about the gowns
now, before the competition, so that the first session doesn't take too
long."

"Okay, Trouble, that seems pretty fair. How do we do it?"

"I'm going to introduce you to my friends, so you know who they are, and
you can make your notes. When you're done with each girl, she will go
back into my room. When we're all there, we'll change, and that will be
the start of the competition."

"Works for me. Who's up first?"

"This is Kelly, my best friend in the whole world. We've known each
other since I was, like, five years old."

Kelly was a brunette, about 5' 6", an olive complexion, straight black
hair cut short, and the most beautiful hazel eyes I'd ever seen.
Slightly more buxom than Jan, she also had soft curves, as opposed to
Jan's more angular and slender shape. She was wearing a pale yellow
baby-doll type top that just barely reached her navel, and matching
panties. I could see (or thought I could, which is just as good) the
dark smudge of her pubic hair, and the dark circles of her nipples
underneath her outfit. I made my notes, looked up at her, and asked, "So
you're the genius that figured this system out, huh?" She blushed a bit,
but didn't say anything, so I told her "Well, that's pretty good
thinking. When you get old enough, come see me about a job - I can
always use someone as smart as you." That seemed to embarrass her even
more, and she quickly made her getaway.

Jan next introduced Robyn, who stood about the same height as Kelly.
With red hair, freckles, and green eyes, she was a delight. Robyn was
slender, which made her slightly fuller bust seem even larger than it
was. She was decked out in a pale green teddy that came down to just
above her pelvis, with small nubs where her nipples were. Her panties
were the same color, and appeared to be French cut; I could just make
out the general size and density of her pubic bush. I told her it was
nice to meet her, and she was off to Jan's room, as well.

Next up was Candice, wearing flannel. Almost platinum blonde hair that
she wore to the middle of her back, and gray eyes that I wanted to fall
into, I couldn't tell much about her shape.

Kim was the next contestant. Eurasian by the look of her, she had
straight, black hair pulled back into a short ponytail, brown eyes, and
a smile that would light up any room she was in - an absolute doll.
Maybe 5' 4" tall, she was slender, but softly curved. Wearing an off-
white lace-looking top that ended about the middle of her small, firm
ass, I could easily see where her dark areolas were. Her bottoms were of
similar, but slightly denser material; but it was still easy to see that
she had a small, neatly shaped patch of black pubic hair. Again with the
introductions, and she was gone.

I next met Kathy, the statuesque (well, for 15, anyway) blonde semi-
goddess that had approached me about doing the 'fashion show'.

Following her was Sandra, at about 5' 8" tall the tallest of the bunch.
Butter blonde hair worn straight to her shoulders, breasts about the
size of half-softballs capped with pale pink areolas and nipples. I
could tell because she had on an incredibly sheer white shortie top. I
was frankly surprised that she had the nerve to wear it in front of me -
and looked forward to seeing the rest of them in it, as well. Around her
hips, she was wearing a pair of tap pants that gently hugged the
delightful curve of her ass. Unfortunately, they were loose enough that
I really couldn't tell much about her pubic area.

The other flannel girl turned out to be Susan, with short curly dark
hair, rosy cheeks, and turquoise blue eyes. Looking to be ever so
slightly plump, I could tell from the way the flannel fell between her
breasts that though not large, they were nicely rounded.

The final newcomer turned out to be Mary Alice. Hispanic, she had dark,
straight hair that fell to just below her shoulders, a dark tan
complexion, and brown eyes. At about 5' 7", she was shaped like a
miniature Dolly Parton: large-ish bust, very slender waist, and nice
hips. She was wearing a semi-opaque baby-doll type outfit that I first
thought she'd outgrown: the top clearly hung straight down from the dark
nipples I could see, even through the material. A short stretch of her
tan tummy was revealed before the start of the ordinary nylon panties
she wore. Though I couldn't see through them, it was clear that she had
developed a dense growth of pubic hair in a slender strip from just
above her pubic bone and down into her crotch.

And, of course, there was Jan, who'd been wearing a less revealing
version of the smoke-and-floss panties she'd modeled for me before, so
that her cute little buns were covered, along with the matching top that
only came down to her midriff. As Mary Alice left, Jan went with her. A
couple minutes later, I heard a round of giggling and a little shrieking
coming from Jan's room; it didn't take a rocket scientist to realize
that they were discussing what they thought my reactions were to their
different outfits.

A few minutes later, Mary Alice and Robyn came in and sat next to me on
the couch, dressed in the flannel outfits. That was apparently my cue
that the round of judging was starting because the remaining 7 girls
streamed in. When they were all in, I started the timer on my watch,
which I'd previously set to count down the allotted time.

As it turned out, I was right about Susan: she wasn't appreciably larger
than the other girls, extension-wise, but definitely made up for it in
actual fullness. I also learned that she had surprisingly small areolas,
not much larger than her pencil-eraser sized nipples, and only a small
dark bush that barely covered her mons.

Sandra revealed a triangular patch of pubic hair the same color as her
head, full without being bushy (pardon the pun).

I also learned that Candice had medium-sized breasts - about the size of
half-tangerines - and pubic hair that was as blonde as she was. Though
somewhat small in area, I figured it to be longer and more sparse than
most.

Keeping my face as passive and unresponsive as I could (which was more
than I could say about the contents of my jeans!), I looked them over
until the timer on my watch went off. A couple of them jumped a little
at the sudden noise - nearly giving me eyestrain in the process - but
they realized what it was after a moment, and the whole crew trooped
out.

The sequence repeated itself, until I'd finally seen every one of the
girls in each of the outfits. As my grandfather told me about
deflowering virgins: it was a dirty job, but _somebody_ had to do it!

When they came back in again, they were all in their original outfits,
and they all sat down in front of the nearly extinguished fire. To my
pleasure, nearly every one of them unconsciously sat cross-legged, so I
was able to sneak more than a couple of delightful looks while finishing
up the scoring.

When I was ready, I cleared my throat to get their attention, and began.

"First off, this was *not* an easy contest to judge, for a variety of
reasons. The outfits - and the wearers! - were all quite pleasing. After
I tell you who the top 3 winners are, I will be more than happy to
explain to you WHY I judged them the way I did. So, if you're all
ready?"

They all nodded.

"There is a tie for first place, between the outfits that Sandra and Jan
wore. Very close behind them was the one that Kelly was wearing. The
reason for the tie is that the two outfits are very, very similar, even
though they might look different to you."

Susan promptly asked "I know why my flannel didn't win, so I want to
know why you judged the way you did, and how you got the results." -with
a number of supporting murmurs.

"Fair enough, and I'm glad to explain. First off, let's start with the
obvious: I'm a man, and you're not." - a round of giggles - "Men and
women do NOT see lingerie in the same way. Even though Sandra and Jan's
outfits are different _styles_, they are very similar in appearance to
*me*: both succeed in finding the balance between covering the necessary
parts, and still revealing enough of those parts to let a man - in this
case, me - get enough of an idea of what's underneath to make him
'interested'. Each of you is wearing something that is attractive _on
you_ - even the flannel ones -, but that wasn't the criteria I was
given: you all asked me to pick out the best *outfit*, and those two
outfits did the best job of attracting my interest, when each of you
wore them. Jan's outfit was marginally more explicit, but Sandra's more
'neutral' color complemented more of you. When I was keeping score, the
ONLY thing I concerned myself with was how each of you looked in a
particular outfit - I'll be happy to give you my score sheet so that you
can see for yourselves that the highest scores always went to the same
_outfits_."

Kim stuck her hand up, and when I nodded to her, asked "You said that
men and women don't see lingerie in the same way. What did you mean?"

"From my experience, and talking with other women about it, I've gotten
the idea that women buy lingerie to _be seen in it_. Men buy lingerie
for their wives or girlfriends so that they can take it _off_ to get to
what's under it. You understand?"

Kim nodded, as did most of the other girls; the rest looked thoughtful.

Robyn asked, "You said that the more neutral color of Sandra's outfit
looked best on most of us. Can you explain?"

"Sure. Let's start with you, as an example." - she blushed - "With your
red hair, and freckles, the green of your outfit makes a nice contrast,
and highlights your, uh, charms." - a bit of giggling -"BUT, it doesn't
look as nice on Mary Alice, because of her different hair and skin tones
Kathy's blue baby-doll looks great - ON HER, but it looked terrible on
Kim; but Kim's outfit looked great ON HER, but didn't do so well on
Sandra. See what I'm getting at?"

This time, the nods were universal.

I continued "There's a reason that the most common lingerie colors are
white and black: even though they aren't necessarily the _best_ match
for any _particular_ woman, they look *reasonably* good on almost ALL
women. If you want to look _good_, pick white or black to compliment
your skin tones. If you want to look the *best*, find something that
contrasts with your entire look: hair, skin, and eyes."

Jan piped up with "Would you tell each of us what color *you* think we'd
look good in?" - and after a moments pause, the rest chimed in their
agreement.

"As long as you understand that I'm most emphatically *NOT* saying which
one of you looks best - you all have your own appeal - I'll do it."

They readily agreed, and Jan offered to be first to get things going.

I had her stand off to the side a bit, so that everyone had pretty much
the same view I did.

"Jan has pretty much the right idea. Her general body tones are more-or-
less 'neutral', so the neutral color of her outfit compliments it. Her
hips and backside are narrow enough that she could wear something more
like a bikini bottom for someone special. If her, uh, nipples and hair
were a little darker, she could also get away with something that wasn't
quite as sheer."

Jan sat down, and Kelly stood, taking her place.

"Kelly has the right idea, too - her dark hair and eyes, and complexion
make a light color a good idea. From a guy perspective, the 'density' of
the material is about right - it's enough to make a guy want a better
look and what's under it. The only thing I could think to change would
be maybe a _little_ bit brighter shade, to provide a little more
contrast with her coloration." Blushing slightly, Kelly sat down, and
after a moment, Kathy popped up and took the 'stage'.

"Kathy has picked well on style and material, but a different color of
outfit might be better - I'm thinking something black, or dark gray to
contrast with her hair color. To draw attention to anything she wants
noticed, the material could be more transparent, or fit a little
tighter." She nodded, and looking thoughtful, sat down, to be replaced
by Sandra.

"The ONLY change I can think of for Sandra is to think about changing to
a darker color to contrast with her hair and skin tones. Maybe black,
maybe a dark blue to highlight her hair color. Because of her pale
nipples, she almost HAS to go with something very sheer to get any
visibility of them." That said, she exchanged places with Candice.

"Candice is one of the few women with the right coloration to make black
an excellent choice - her hair, skin tone, eyes, all of it make black
almost ideal for her. The only disadvantage to that would be the
difficulty in finding something light enough to let her emphasize any
particular areas she might want to highlight." Visibly pink when she sat
again, she was quickly replaced by Mary Alice.

"Mary Alice has a good start, too. She can emphasize her bust by wearing
something a bit tighter or clingier, or continue with what she has on
now, and still make it clear she's well developed. A thinner material,
or one that was even a _little_ more transparent would definitely draw
attention to her nipples. A shorter top, and something like tap pants
would emphasize her narrow waist. With her dark hair and complexion, a
_bright_ color would contrast nicely. It could be red, yellow, or even a
*bright* white." Mary Alice gave me an appraising look as she went by.

Next up was Susan.

"Susan is actually kind of difficult. Dark hair, pink skin, and blue
eyes - not an easy combination to deal with. Not that she isn't
attractive - just the opposite, in fact - it's just that it's tough to
pick out ONE color that would look good on her. What comes to mind is to
go with something neutral like black, but add in a little red for
emphasis, maybe red trim at strategic points. Her blue eyes are always
going to draw a guys attention, so if she wants to emphasize her bust or
anything else, she'll have to be a bit more obvious than most of you -
snug fit, sheerness, or maybe even both." Susan and Kim exchanged places
when I was done.

"Kim's skin tones are fairly neutral, so she could 'get by' with about
anything, really. But if she really wants to grab attention, something
seriously contrasting is called for - I'd say that she was one of the
few women who would actually benefit from say, an electric blue camisole
or teddy. Alternatively, white would contrast with her hair, and draw
attention to her nipples." Looking contemplative, Kim sat down.

Jan asked, "From a guy's view, what gets your attention?"

I replied with "Well, some guys are attracted to breasts - sometimes
small, but usually large. Others are attracted to butts, and others find
legs attractive. Some like blonde hair, others brunette, and others
prefer redheads. Even within the different groups, there is a lot of
variation: on breasts, some men like large nipples, others prefer small.
Large butts, small butts, soft butts, firm butts. Slender legs, muscular
legs. Long hair, short hair, curly or straight. Lots of pubic hair,
little - or even no - pubic hair. Pointy breasts, round breasts. I can
promise you that for each and every one of you, there is a guy somewhere
that thinks you look absolutely perfect, and even more that think you
look pretty good, and even more that think you look just fine, as part
of one or more of the groups that they find attractive."

"But how about *you*", Kelly asked.

"Me? I'm not so fussy, in some ways, and a lot more fussy in other
ways."

"How so?" she asked.

"I'm not so fussy, in that I don't care about one particular area of a
woman's anatomy - I don't focus on breasts or hips or butt or legs or
any of that. Birthmarks, scars, and so on aren't important to me, other
than to regret any problems that they may have caused the person that
has them. I'm a lot more fussy because I want the girl to have a brain,
and *use* it. I want her to be as interested in me as I am in her.
Patience, understanding, and compassion are always good things in
_anybody_. Willingness to think and act on her own is good, too. Most
important of all is that she should have respect for herself."

Kathy asked "Why is a girl's self-respect important?"

"Important to *me*, you mean; there are a lot of guys out there that
would be just as happy to have a girl that DIDN'T have self respect:
such girls are easier for that kind of guy to control and manipulate.
For me, though, I've got enough confidence in myself to think that if I
think a girl is special enough to get my attention, then she should have
enough sense to recognize that, and find me special, too. The only kind
of woman that I've found that have that kind of sense got it from having
a high degree of self-respect and self-confidence."

"How does that work?"

"Because someone is able to respect themselves, they are also confident
in themselves. When they're confident in themselves, the more confident
they are in the decisions and judgments they make. When they're
confident in their decisions and judgments, the more they're willing to
make them, and the better they get at it."

"Sounds like it's pretty hard to learn, and do."

"It is hard to learn, and do - but I think the results are worth it: the
final result is someone very special, and worth knowing. Besides, when
is *anything* worth having or doing easy?"

They all laughed, and Jan said, "You sound like some of our teachers!"

"Ever think they might be right? After all, they *are* _teachers_."

With that to occupy their minds, I called for an end, so that 'a senile
old fart like me can get some sleep' - which earned me a number of
snorts of derision at my self-description. Reluctantly, they agreed, and
all wandered back to Jan's bedroom. I did ask Jan to stay back for a
bit, as they were leaving.

Once we were alone, I asked Jan "What was all that about? I mean the
visits for sodas and chips and marshmallows, and all the rest of it?"

She blushed a little, and said, "Well, I was kind of bragging on how
patient you are, and how you never tried to grope me or anything, and
they didn't believe me. So they got the idea of coming out here to watch
TV after we got ready for bed, to see if you were really that polite
about not looking. When you didn't do or say anything, some of them
thought you were gay or something."

"Let me guess - Robyn and Sandra the most."

She looked surprised, but said "Yeah! How did you know?"

"They were a little less than subtle about trying to get me to look at
them. What else was going on?"

She looked startled, and continued "Well, um, once they realized that
you weren't gay, they decided to see if they could shake you up by
trying to overload you. When that didn't work - the nightgown
competition was supposed to do it - they realized that I wasn't joking.
That made them want to see if you were as patient and nice about talking
to us 'kids' as I'd said. You were; that's why they didn't give you any
trouble about leaving you alone just now."

"Is there going to be anything else going on tonight, then?"

She smiled, and said "No, I don't think anything involving you - I think
you pretty well confused them by being as polite and honest and
everything as I told them you are. If I know _them_, they'll even leave
you alone: you're kind of scary, sometimes, about how you're willing to
talk to us like we're grown up enough to understand what you're saying.
Besides, you gave us a lot to talk about, so I don't think there will be
time to bother you any more."

"Good. I really am kind of tired, and really do want to go to sleep. If
they ask what we talked about, just tell them I said it was okay to raid
the fridge and chips and such - but that if anybody wakes me up, they'll
find out what I'm like when I'm *not* being nice."

She laughed, and told me "I'll tell them that if they do anything to
wake you up, you just might be mad enough to bite them - that'll scare
them!"

I laughed, too, and gave her a little pat on the butt as I told her
"Bedtime, Trouble. I'll see you in the morning."

After she left, I got ready, and went to bed. Before long, I was fully
asleep - and nobody woke me during the night.

The next morning, I woke up well ahead of them, and only a little before
Leo and John got up. The boys were content with oatmeal and a toaster
waffle each for breakfast. They watched cartoons for a while, but when
the girls finally started to get up, the boys decided they didn't want
any part of it, and left, each to a different friends house.

It was probably ten o'clock by the time the girls were all awake, if not
functional. Eventually, though, they were redressed, and all swarmed
into the kitchen to scrounge up some breakfast. Once loaded, they flowed
into the dining area, and proceeded to demolish Paul's groceries. When
they were done, though, they were all good enough to clean up after
themselves without being told - always a good sign in a teenager.

Following breakfast, they all headed out to the patio to enjoy the
unusual weather, and generally sit around.

It was shortly before noon when I heard a bit of shouting outside, and
then a scream. In a matter of a couple seconds, I was out there to see
what had happened. As it turned out, it wasn't a 'what' that had
happened, but a 'who'.

There was a largish young man out there, and behind him, a couple of
smaller obvious hangers-on. I could see that his attention was on Susan,
who was crying, and trying to hide behind the other girls.

When I asked what was going on, Jan told me that the character in front
was Phil, a member of the wrestling team, and he was there to get Susan.
Except that Susan didn't want to go - they'd been boyfriend/girlfriend
for a while, but she'd broken up with him a few weeks before.

Once I understood what was going on, I turned to Phil, and said, "Looks
pretty simple to me, Phil. She doesn't want to go with you, so you might
as well leave."

He took a couple of steps toward me, which allowed me a good look at his
eyes: bloodshot, and the pupils dilated. Uh-oh. Either this kid's
really, really drunk or hung over, or he's engaging in some street
pharmacology. Not good. He verifies his bad judgment by telling me "Fuck
you, man! That's *my* bitch, and she ain't dumpin' me like that! She
ain't leavin' me until I *tell* her she can leave! Now grab your shit,
Susie, and let's *go*!"

His buddies are smirking, and looking like they're willing to back him
up - though from the look of them, I doubt they'd try anything like this
on their own.

"Phil, is it?" - he focuses on me, and nods - "I wasn't asking you to
leave, I was _telling_ you to leave. If you don't, then there's going to
be some serious trouble here, either with the cops, or if I have to,
with me."

That seems to get his attention, and I hear Susan say, "It's okay, I'll
go with him. I don't want any trouble."

Keeping an eye on Phil and crew, I told her "Susan, there isn't any
trouble, but if you go with this character, there will be. He's either
drunk, or on something, and if you go with him, you'll probably wind up
in the hospital. I'm not going to force you *not* to go with someone who
wants to force you *to* go - but I really, strongly suggest that you
stay. He's not going to hurt anyone, least of all, you."

He looked at me again, then as Susan, who was crying on Kim's shoulder
while Kelly whispered in her ear. After a few moments, Susan spoke up
again: "If you say it'll be okay, then I'll stay."

That seemed to enrage young master Phil, and he took another couple of
steps, more toward me than the girls.

I looked at his traveling companions, and asked "Are you two his keepers
for today? If you are, you'd better get him out of here, NOW, before
somebody gets hurt." and then to Jan "Jan, go inside and call the cops.
If they get here in time, they can probably keep somebody from getting
dead."

Jan gave me a strange look, but went inside.

That seemed to be all that Phil needed, and he charged toward me, with
his little buddies behind him.

Now, I'm a coward. I don't WANT to fight. Fighting hurts. So because I
don't like to fight, I took some Judo and Karate when I was younger
(like in middle and high school), so that if I _did_ have to, it would
be over faster. And when I went in the Navy and was stationed in Asia,
studied a couple more things formally, and learned some other stuff
after being trapped in a few bar fights. Mixed all together, it made up
my 'style' - Godzilla-jitsu. So, when Phil got close enough, I used some
Aikido to redirect him - with a little extra push - into the brick wall
of the house. Then I turned, and Karate kicked the dipstick on my right
in the kneecap. His buddy on my left tried to grab me, and got a leg
sweep that dropped him on his back. Phil had bounced, shaken his head,
and was headed for me again, swinging at me in the process. I dropped
under it, and gave him a straight shot into the solar plexus, which
stopped him cold. Not wanting to dance any more, I side kicked him in
the knee, and heard it crack as it broke. Dumbshit 1, who I'd kicked in
the knee, wasn't standing so good, but still wanted to play. When he
swung at me, I applied a Judo throw, and kind of forgot to lay him down
the way I'd been taught; instead, I dropped him halfway through it, so
that he landed flat on his back, knocking the air out of him, and taking
him out of play for a while. Dumbshit 2, who got the leg sweep, had
bounced up, and rushed me just as I was finishing with his buddy - I
didn't have enough time for anything but a roundhouse kick to the
stomach, followed by an elbow to his short ribs when he folded. I heard
one of them crack, and he stayed down that time. Start to finish, the
whole thing didn't take but about 15 seconds.

A couple minutes later, we all heard the sirens as a couple police cars
showed up; a few moments later, Jan came around the side of the house,
leading the cops. My youth not having been all that angelic, I was
careful to stand there with my hands in plain sight, not moving. The
girls seemed to be in shock, as was Jan when she saw the 3 Meatheads
laying on the ground. One of the cops came over to me, and asked me what
had happened; I carefully explained what had gone on since my arrival in
the back yard, through the time they arrived. The cop kind of gave me
the fisheye, and asked me to stand next to the house while he and his
partner talked to the girls.

Several minutes later, the second cop came over, and told me that the
girls had verified my story, and that I could relax - I wasn't in any
trouble. His partner had gotten on the radio, and it wasn't long before
there was an ambulance parked out front, too. The medics loaded Phil
onto a stretcher, and got the other two mobile enough to ride with him
as they took the whole crew to the hospital. There was a little more
paperwork with the cops, but it didn't take long for them to lose
interest. From what I could tell, they figured the kids got what they
deserved, and were just as happy that the situation was as
straightforward as it was: less paperwork for them.

As they were leaving, the first cop came over to me, and asked, "Why did
you break the kids leg?"

"He pissed me off. I didn't want him getting up again."

"And the other two?"

"They got in the way."

He laughed, and followed his buddy back to their squad cars. He must
have told his buddy what I'd said, because I heard them both laughing,
briefly.

When they were gone, I went over to Susan, and gently asked her if she
was okay. To my surprise, she launched herself into my arms, and started
crying and blubbering. Nothing more for me to do but stand there and
hold her, caressing her hair and making reassuring noises until she got
it out of her system. While I was doing that, I could see some of the
other girls looking at me like I was Batman and Superman and the
Incredible Hulk, all rolled into one. It was embarrassing.

After several minutes, Susan had finally calmed down enough that she was
able to talk. She softly pushed herself out of my arms - I was holding
her just enough so she'd know someone was there - and looked up at me.

"Dan?"

"Yes, Susan?"

"Thank you. I was scared of him when we broke up, and I was afraid that
he was going to do something stupid like this. But it's been long enough
that I thought he'd gotten over it. I really didn't want any trouble, or
for anyone to get hurt, and I'm sorry, and...." With that, she was back
in my arms, crying again.

I stroked her back a bit, and told her "Susan, there's nothing for YOU
to be sorry about. YOU have acted like a decent human being, and I
cannot imagine you ever being any kind of trouble for anyone. Phil,
there, is the one that should be apologizing, and I expect that he *is*
sorry, or will be before long." - she laughed a bit into my chest - "And
there's nothing to thank me for. Taking dipshits like that off the
streets is a public duty." She laughed again, and just stood there for a
bit, letting me hold her. That seemed to be the cue for the rest of them
to start crying, and bunch up around me and Susan, hugging us.

About the time the humidity in my shirt hit 100%, they seemed to get
over it, and we pretty much broke up by mutual accord, heading into the
house. With the happy spirit gone, the girls seemed to lose interest in
things, and collected their stuff, calling for their parents to pick
them up.

I was in the den, listening to some music, as they started leaving. Much
to my surprise, all of them stopped in to thank me, and Susan even dared
give me a kiss on the cheek and a hug before heading out the door.

When the last one was gone, Jan came into the den, and sat on the
fireplace hearth looking at me. I ignored it for as long as I could, but
finally had to turn to her, and raise an eyebrow in question.

"I didn't know you knew that stuff.", she said.

"Didn't seem important, until today."

"Yeah, but why haven't you ever said anything about it?"

"Like I said, it didn't seem important. If it had come up earlier, I'd
have said or done something earlier, when it was needed."

She gave me the Goober look.

"Look, Jan, the way I figure it, the folks that yap about how they
studied this and that are just making so much noise - they're talkers,
trying to bullshit people into not bothering them. The ones that really
have enough of an idea of what they're doing don't NEED to talk - they
can DO if they have to. It's kind of like Kelly: she doesn't tell
everyone she's smart, she just IS, when it matters. Like last night, I
deliberately threw in that business about judging the nighties and not
the girls in them to see if I could squash the program; I really didn't
think any of you would figure a way out of it that I couldn't argue
against. But Kelly really threw me - she not only found a solution, but
a *damn good* solution. I really was serious when I told her that I'd
have a job for her when she's old enough. I don't want somebody with
those kinds of smarts working for my competition!", I laughed.

Jan answered me by saying "Yeah, I figured you were, and I told her
that. She didn't want to believe me. But she might take you up on it,
anyway."

"Good. I'll look forward to it."

"But that still doesn't do anything about what happened."

"But it's already happened, and been taken care of. Phil and his two
dipshit buddies are gone, and won't be around to bother anyone for a
while. And if they *do* start to get feisty again, then we can call the
cops on them as soon as they show up, because THEY have shown that
they're trouble."

"But what if they try to start something at school?"

"I kinda suspect that will solve itself: do you really think that NOT
ONE of those eight girls is going to keep quiet about how an old fart
like me dropped Phil and his pals? You think Phil will start anything
serious with THAT hanging over him? I don't."

"No, he won't do anything that way, but he might try something sneaky,
like having someone else do it for him, like one of his other friends."

"I'll bet that when word gets out, he won't HAVE that many 'friends' -
who wants to be buddies with a loser like him? As for trying something
sneaky, you and the others can put the word out that I've given you my
_personal_ protection, and that if anything happens, I'm going to be
VERY upset - particularly with Phil and company. I can promise you, if a
durned *meteor* falls out of the sky lands within 20 miles of you, Phil
is going to be one unhappy camper - along with his merry band of
morons."

About that time, the phone rang, and Jan went to answer it. She talked
with the caller for a little bit, and then brought me the cordless
phone, telling me "It's Susan's parents. They saw she was upset, and
finally got the story from her. They want to talk to you."

Crud.

When I answered, I found out that it was Susan's dad on the line. He
asked me what had happened, and I gave him the condensed version. He
wasn't satisfied with that, and kept asking me to go back over it in
more detail until I finally told him the whole thing, start to end, with
full detail. He thanked me, and said that he appreciated my attempt to
downplay the incident. I tried my best humble-and-modest routine on him,
but he wasn't going for it. He thanked me again, and said that if I had
any trouble with anyone about it, I should call him, and he'd deal with
it. I asked how he'd do that, and he admitted that he was a criminal
lawyer in town. I thanked him, and said that I didn't think there would
be anything of consequence. He repeated the offer, thanked me again for
my efforts, and that ended the call.

Jan had been sitting next to me, with her ear close enough to the phone
to be able to hear both sides of the conversation. When I shut off the
phone, she was staring at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Do you know that Susan's dad is one of the most expensive lawyers in
town? And that he doesn't do *any* legal stuff for *anybody* for free?"

"Nope. Didn't know, doesn't much matter."

"What do you mean?"

"If I'm right, I won't be needing his help, though it's nice to know
it's there if I'm wrong. Either way, there isn't much *I* can do about
it, so there's no sense worrying about what might or might not happen."

"OH! You are SO exasperating, sometimes!"

I grinned, and said "Yeah. Ain't it great?" - and got her laughing.

The rest of the weekend went by just fine, though Jan did make sure that
I got better - and longer - than usual peeks at her at different times.
When Paul got back, he asked if everything went okay, and I just told
him that some boy had wanted to take one of the girls that didn't want
to go, but had finally left after we called the cops. Paul looked
worried at that, but Jan took her cue from me, and downplayed it,
explaining - in loose terms - the Phil/Susan situation.

">

A couple of days later, I stopped by to talk to Paul, and Jan ambushed
me in the living room before I got to him.

"You'll never guess!"

"Okay, I give up."

"What?"

"Whatever it was you were talking about. You said I'd never guess, so I
gave up."

She gave me a dirty look, the told me "At school Monday, they announced
that Phil was being bounced off the wrestling team, because of how he
acted here Saturday. Then, Tuesday, we all found out that when you broke
his leg, it was bad enough that he isn't going to be able to wrestle for
at LEAST a couple of years, if ever. I mean, they kicked him off the
team BEFORE they found out he couldn't wrestle! And you're right -nobody
wants anything to do with the people that usually hung out with him, you
know, his little gang or club or whatever. Phil's still in the hospital,
but the other two were back in school Monday afternoon. Every time one
of them saw one of us, they'd walk in another direction! And Tuesday
morning, Father Thomas suspended them for a week."

"That's good news. Now the only worry is whether one of the parents
decides to get feisty."

She frowned at that, but let me continue, "I think if they're going to
try anything, it will happen by the end of the week. After that, they'll
just look like idiots if they say something."

That brightened her up a bit, so when Paul called out my name, I was
able to leave her in good conscience.

When he saw me, Paul jumped right out with "So, what *really* happened
Saturday?"

"Like I said, some kid wanted to take one of the girls without her
permission. He left without her after we called the cops."

"But you kind of left out some of the detail - like that there were TWO
cop cars. AND an ambulance."

"Okay, so he wasn't happy about leaving. I encouraged him a little."

"Encouraged him how?"

"Uh, do you *really* want to know?"

"Yes, dammit! It happened on my property, remember? What happens if the
little bastards parents sue, or something?"

"I don't think they're going to do that - he was drunk or stoned at the
time."

"Yeah, fine, but what did you DO to him that required an ambulance?"

"I kinda broke his leg. Well, his knee."

"Oh, jeezus. And what about the other two that got hauled off?"

"Um, one sorta got a rib broken, and the other just had the wind knocked
out of him."

"*Sorta* got a rib broken. Christ on a crutch, I'm gonna lose
everything."

"I don't think so, Paul."

"Why not, oh great one?"

"Well, it turns out that Susan's dad is some lawyer, and when he found
out what happened and called Saturday, he offered to take care of any
legal problems that might come up. Seemed right happy I was there."

"Uh, huh. Told you over the phone he was a lawyer, and promised you
legal defense. Yeah, and I'm the tooth fairy."

"Better get your tights out, there, bubba. I got a letter from him
today, thanking me again, and repeating the offer of legal
representation." That threw him for a minute.

"WHO is he again?"

I admitted that I didn't know the last name, so he got it from Jan, who
discretely hung around to see what was going on. When he found out
Susan's last name, he seemed to relax quite a bit, saying, "Yeah, I've
heard of him. One tough son of a bitch, but honest and fair to a fault.
If he said it, he'll do it. Okay, so maybe I'm not going to lose my ass
on this. But dammit, you still should have said something!"

"What for? It was over, what was done was done, and there wasn't a damn
thing you could have done anyway. Why bother you with it unless and
until there was something that really needed your attention?"

"Asshole. Think you're pretty smart, huh?"

"Well, yeah, mostly. You usually do, too, if I recall correctly."

That got him laughing a bit, and he said, "Yeah, dammit, you are, and I
do."

"How did you find out, anyway?"

"Mrs. Johnson next door saw me outside, and came over to talk about it."

"Ah. You got it from the neighborhood gossip - the same lady you call a
'nosy old biddy that nobody should listen to' every time you mention her
name. Nice consistency, there, shipdit."

That got him laughing even more, and he told me "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Do as
I say, not as I do. Okay, fine, you're forgiven. But you're still an
asshole."

"Hmmmph. Been called worse, by a nicer class of people, so I guess I can
live with it."

"At least I know the answer to one thing, now."

"What's that?"

"I've always kinda wondered what you would do if someone ever tried hurt
one of the kids somehow."

"Well, now I guess you know the answer."

"That I do. If you do that for one of Jan's friends, I pity the poor
fucker that tries something with one of mine while YOU'RE around.
Cops'll probably have to take him to the station in a sponge."

"Nah. They'll still be able to use a Baggie. A small one."

When he looked at me again, I could see that he wasn't mad, any more -in
fact, I saw gratefulness and a confidence that I had never seen before.
He said, "C'mon, asshole, I'll buy you a beer."

"Sold!" - and with that, we headed to the kitchen.

As it turned out, I was wrong about one thing. Even though Phil's
parents never uttered a peep, his buddies' parents got their stupid
asses worked up, and started making noises about suing anybody and
everybody - the following Monday. Susan's dad heard about it without me
even calling him, and made it known that HE would be representing anyone
these folks sued, along with pointing out the rather spotty character
and history of the two. After that, nothing more was said - or needed to
be.

When he got out of the hospital, Phil found himself in a treatment
center, and when he cleared that hurdle, was enrolled in a completely
different school, far away from Jan and her friends. The other two got
back into school, but found themselves under close supervision for a
long, *long* time.

The only bad thing to come out of it was some reporter decided the story
needed to be told, and I wound up with my face plastered on TV one
night, and in the paper the next day. It was weeks before people I
didn't know quit congratulating me, and thanking me.

">

As Spring continued, Paul didn't have to go out on as many trips, but
the ones he went on lasted a bit longer. Sometimes, they even clashed
with holidays, as happened in the case of Memorial Day.

Jan had gotten permission from Paul to have Kelly over for the entire
weekend, subject to her good behavior and my approval, which I readily
granted. Kelly's parents had initially questioned it, but Jan and Kelly
had gotten them to call me, and after I talked with them, they agreed,
as well. Kelly told me later that what finally convinced them was the
realization that she was as safe - if not safer - with me around than
anywhere else, after they'd been reminded of the Phil situation.

Paul had left Friday morning for his trip; Kelly was going to come home
with Jan and the boys, and stay until Monday morning at the latest. That
meant that I had a normal workday, at least until it was time to pick
everyone up from school.

Being a Catholic school, there were the obligatory uniforms - Leo and
John in dark pants and white shirts, the girls in plaid skirts and white
blouses. We got everyone got loaded into my Volvo; Leo and John didn't
hesitate about heading for the back seat. Jan and Kelly paused for a
bit, talking, before Jan got in the back to sit between Leo and John
(apparently to stave off a complaint about one of them not getting a
window), which left Kelly to sit in front with me. I was mildly
surprised, but didn't think anything of it - until we got on the road,
and I noticed Kelly kept looking at me, only to avert her eyes when I
looked at HER. Then, while checking the rearview mirror, I noticed that
Jan was watching both of us. Alarm bells started going off in my head,
but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what was going on. So, I
just went to a higher mental DefCon, and acted like I didn't notice
anything happening.

It was only about 4:00 PM when we got back to Paul's place, and they all
headed to the appropriate bedroom to change clothes. Surprisingly, the
girls came out first, and joined me in the den, where I was seated on
the couch, watching late afternoon TV. They parked themselves on the
fireplace hearth, and were whispering back and forth when the boys came
roaring in to see if it was okay for them to go to the park and kick a
soccer ball around. I okayed it, and they were off.

With them gone, Jan felt it was okay to bring up whatever it was that
had been on her mind. Kelly was alternating between studying me, and her
knees.

"Uncle Dan?"

"Yes, Jan?"

"I've got a favor to ask."

Danger! Danger! I instantly went to DefCon-1, and asked, "What's that?"

"Um, you know how you, uh, helped me, you know, that first time?"

Was that a General Quarters alarm I was hearing?

"Ye-e-e-e-e-s."

"Well, I was, uh, hoping that you could, um, you know, help Kelly, too."

Nope, That wasn't a GQ alarm, that was the sound of multiple nuclear
detonations. I might as well put my head between my knees now, so I can
kiss my ass goodbye.

Jan could see that I really couldn't think of anything to say, so
continued with "I know that I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, and all
that, but Kelly" - who was now openly staring at me with obvious fear of
rejection in her face - "is kind of having the same problem I was.
Before I ever told her anything, I made her promise not to tell anyone
about it, EVER. I told you before that she's been my best friend since
we were like, five years old, and I *know* that I can trust her - _the
same way I trust you_." - that last part definitely got my attention - I
knew that Jan was trying to tell me that I could trust Kelly as much as
I trusted her.

"Jan - and Kelly - you know that you're asking a lot from me." - Kelly's
face fell; I could see in her eyes that she thought I was rejecting her
- "NOT that Kelly isn't pretty - Kelly, I promise, you're definitely
pretty! - but because of all the trouble that might happen. And I don't
want you to think that I think I'm irresistible or anything, Jan, but
what happens if Kelly decides she likes me as much as you do?"

"It's okay, Uncle Dan. I've told her how I feel about you, so you can
say it - I love you."

"Fine, Trouble, we don't have to be 'careful' then?" I asked. She shook
her head, and I continued "For *anybody*, the first person they're, uh,
intimate with is always special. How are you going to feel if Kelly
feels that way about me too, and wants to be with me more than just the
one time?"

"I think it'll be okay. You've taught me that love is something that a
person always has plenty of."

Why the hell did she have to learn *that* from me so damn fast?

"Fine, you *THINK* it will be okay - which tells me that you really
haven't given it enough thought; otherwise, you would KNOW whether it
would or not, and say so. No, don't bother trying to change it now, it's
too late." I said, as she started to speak.

I continued "Have you two given any thought about just exactly HOW this
is supposed to happen?" - looks of bafflement from both of them gave me
the answer - "No? Then what am I supposed to do, and what am I supposed
to think? Jan, you're the one talking, and I haven't heard a word from
Kelly. How does *Kelly* want it to happen; I mean, does she want her and
I to be alone? If so, why are you here, Jan? If she doesn't want to be
alone, then that means that she and I will have an 'audience', even if
it is her best friend. Should we all be naked, or would she be happier
with you clothed? What does she want to happen? How much of what you and
I have done does she want to learn about - does she want to learn more?
Less? Some things, but not others?"

That gave them considerable pause. I went on, speaking to Kelly "Kelly,
I think you're a very pretty young lady. But you haven't said a thing to
me during all of this. I don't know if you have the courage - and more
importantly, honesty - to _tell_ me what it is you want from me, and
what you want me to do. I can't help you with any problems if you can't
tell me what they are; just like I can't help you feel 'better' if you
can't tell me what feels _good_, and what doesn't. That means you'll
have to be able to use words that you probably haven't said to guys
before, if you've said them much at all. Once you've started down this
road, there's really no turning back - once something is done, it's
DONE, and there's no changing it. No matter how much or how little
happens, it will change you - forever - if only a little bit. You'll
never be the same again, either psychologically or emotionally. Have you
really thought about that?"

They were both sitting there, stunned, even though I hadn't raised my
voice or used any but the calmest voice I had - no anger, no passion,
nothing other than to emphasize some words.

Continuing, I said to both of them "I'm not angry or upset that you're
asking me this. What I AM is disappointed that you didn't give it as
much thought and consideration as you should have. Now, if and when you
really *think* about what I just said, and have the answers to the
questions I just asked, I'll be able to at least _think_ about it, and
have a reasonable basis to make a decision on."

Jan was leaking a little around the eyes - but as hard as it was, I had
to ignore it.

Kelly, on the other hand, wasn't - and was finally ready to speak her
mind.

"Dan, I know that I'm asking a lot of you; and if you're going to tell
me 'no', then I'm at least glad to know that it's not because of my
looks."

"Like I said, it definitely isn't that."

She continued, "Dan, my dad is some kind of stock market trader, and my
mom is into real estate. Neither one spends much time at home, I don't
have any brothers or sisters, and my folks haven't really paid much
attention to me since I had my first period."

"Sounds to me like another reason for me to refuse, then - for all I
know, you're just lonely, and looking for someone to pay attention to
you.", I said, deliberately prodding her to see what her reaction would
be.

To my surprise, she didn't take the bait, saying, "I suppose that's one
way to look at it - except that there are a couple of things that you
don't know. First, I still have lots of friends - none as good as Jan,
but still friends, and I got used to my folks being gone most of the
time a long time ago. Second, you don't know what kinds of things I do,
or what kind of person I am. I mean, you don't know that I get all 'A's
in school, except for those stupid classes like literature, where there
aren't any real answers. Third, you don't know that if I had anyone else
I could trust as much as Jan trusts you, I'd go to them - but I don't,
and as much as Jan trusts you, I think I can trust you, too - for the
kinds of self-respect reasons you talked about that night we had the
sleep-over."

Shit. My own words have come back to bite me on the ass. Traitorous
bastards.

She went on, saying, "Even if my folks ever did find out about it -- and
I can promise, it wouldn't be from me! - I really don't think it would
matter to them. The reason I say that is because one of the few times my
mom and I were able to talk about this kind of stuff, she *told* me that
as long as I didn't get pregnant or catch some disease, she wasn't going
to ask me about any of it, so she could 'respect my privacy'. I think
what she meant was so she didn't have to bother with me, but I could be
wrong. I don't have answers to the questions about me, because I really
didn't think there was any chance that you might actually consider it. I
was wrong, and I *AM* going to finish thinking it through. And when I'm
ready, *I* will be the one to ask you, not Jan - you're right about
that, and I should have been the one to do the talking, even if Jan were
with me." She turned and looked at Jan, and said,"Jan, you probably want
to talk to him, too, so I'll go back to your room, and we can talk when
you're done."

Giving me a look that told me she'd just learned something about
herself, she stood, and headed toward Jan's room.

Jan was still crying a bit, and said "Uncle Dan, I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For dumping this on you like I did. I wanted Kelly to feel as good as I
do when I'm with you, and I was using my heart instead of my brain, like
you've tried to teach me."

"Jan, I hope that I've never given you the idea that your brain is more
important than your heart; without the love and compassion and all that
comes from the heart, we're not much better than machines. What I'd
hoped was that you would have learned to use your heart AND your mind,
TOGETHER. Wanting to help Kelly came from your heart, and I'm never
going to be upset with you for having a soul. Like I said, I'm just
disappointed that you didn't get past the 'what' in your heart, and use
your brain to solve the 'how'."

"Well, I'm sorry that I disappointed you, then."

"There's no reason for you to be sorry about that, either. This
situation is something pretty unique, and I don't see how you could
possibly expect to find solutions when you didn't even know the _full_
extent of the problem."

"Then why are you disappointed?"

"Because if you _had_ started thinking it through, I expect that you
would have run into the questions I asked, and realized that you didn't
have enough information. At _that_ point, you would either give up -
which I doubt you would - or realize that you needed to talk to someone
about it. And considering the topic, I expect that I would have been
that person, and could have helped you."

"Okay, I understand now. I'm just sorry that I messed it all up,
though."

"You obviously weren't paying attention to what was said, then."

"What do you mean?"

"If you had been, you would have heard me say that *when* you two were
able to answer my questions, *then* I would be able to give you an
answer - which means that I haven't decided yet, which means that I
_haven't_said 'no'. And you would have heard Kelly say that she was
going to find the answers to HER questions, AND come back to ask me
again."

"Oh."

"Do you remember what Kelly just said to you?"

"Uh, yeah, that she knew I wanted to talk to you, and she was going to
wait in my room, and we'd talk then."

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The light goes one, and Jan says"Oh."

Then"OH!"

"Trouble, life doesn't have a rewind button. You've got to catch it the
one time it's played."

"Yeah, I guess so!" Then, a few moments later, "Uh, are we done?"

"I suppose so, since you're so eager to get back there with Kelly.", I
laughed.

She laughed, too, and took off.

They pretty much stayed in Jan's room for the rest of the evening,
coming out only for supper (pizza and sodas), during which time, Jan was
watching me a little, with love in her eyes. Kelly, on the other hand,
was looking at me in a very contemplative manner; I kind of felt like a
bug under a microscope, or something, but was careful not to take any
notice of her, other than to chat with her a little about school and
such.

The boys and I retreated to the den after clearing the table, and had a
rousing game of Life that lasted past their bedtime. John and Leo
battled it out to the very end, with me far behind. Ultimately, John
won, but just barely, with Leo second, and my distant third. Playing a
game of sorts, I'd let the boys stay up past their bedtime, and let them
slide on baths that night, with the promise that they'd take showers the
next morning. As far as they knew, it was our secret that I was so lax.
Paul knew, of course, but pretended not to: he didn't mind, since I was
careful to only do it on weekends. Soon they were in bed, and not long
after that, sound asleep. I'd returned to the den, and was able to catch
the start of the evening news.

About the time the sports came on, Jan came in and sat next to me on the
couch, snuggling into my side, pulled my arm around her, and held my
hand in her lap. I could tell she wanted to talk, so I turned the TV off
(I don't care much about sports, anyway, which she knew), and gave her a
kiss on top of the head to encourage her.

"Uncle Dan, I've been talking to Kelly, and thinking about what you said
to us earlier."

"And?"

"And I've decided that I really don't mind if Kelly wants to be with you
more than once."

"Is that so?"

"Yup. Talking to her tonight, I realized that she's already a little in
love with you, and that I didn't mind. When I started thinking about
that, I knew that if you, uh, helped her, she'd be even happier, and
more in love with you - but that it wouldn't change anything about the
way that you love ME. And I know that if you help her, you won't be able
to help but love her, too; I mean, that's just the kind of guy you are -
you wouldn't do it just to touch her or see her naked or anything like
that, you'd do it because you *cared* about her, and wanted her to be
happy and make her feel good. Just like I love you, I love her, too, in
a different way, and want her to be happy. If that means that she's with
you more than once, then it's okay with me, because I *do* love her -and
you."

"What do you mean, she's already a little in love with me?"

"When you were talking to her, it wasn't like she was a kid or
something; you didn't worry about anything except being honest with her.
Even when you said that about her being lonely, and it hurt her, you
didn't try to baby her. Nobody's ever really been like that with her
before; the ones that know she's smart still treat her like she's
stupid, if you know what I mean. So, when you didn't worry about it, she
understood it to mean that you actually _respected_ her, and that whole
thing you told us about respect kind of kicked in. So, because you
respect her, she loves you a little."

"Trouble, don't tell her this, but when I said that about her being
lonely, I did it the mean way, just to find out if she *was* going to be
grown up or not. If she'd started crying or acting up about it, I'd know
that _emotionally_ she wasn't ready; but because she responded with
adult emotions and thoughts, she proved to me that she's a young woman,
not a little girl."

She looked up at me for a moment, to say, "You're sneaky."

"Yeah. And your point is... what?" earning myself a giggle and hug from
her.

She returned to snuggling against me, and asked, "So when she asks you
again, what are you going to tell her?"

"So, spying for her, are you?"

"No. Well, okay, a little. What are you going to say?"

"That depends. If she's really thought it through, and knows what she
wants and can tell me, then I'll probably say 'yes'" - a small gasp next
to me - "But she has to understand that no matter how much I like her,
even love her, I'm not going to do it unless and until she's able to
convince me that she's really ready; and I think - I hope! - you can
vouch that that isn't easy."

"Yeah, I can!"

"Good. Now you can go back and tell her that you were able to weasel the
answers out of me, without my even knowing you were doing it."

"Yeah, like she'd believe that." she answered, but got up anyway, and
headed off.

I turned the TV back on, and got it tuned to the channel that offered
"Politically Incorrect", a rather irreverent kind-of talk show that I
sometimes enjoyed. Usually, the guests were actors, authors, and other
folks that lived far enough from reality as to have no idea that clues
even _existed_, never mind having one. But, every so often, he'd get a
group together that actually had something interesting to say. Once set
up, I muted the TV, so I could get a little more out of the book I'd
started.

I was mildly surprised, then, when about a half hour later, when the two
of them came walking into the den. Kelly, wearing her robe, sat down in
one of the chairs diagonally across from the couch, while Jan, in her
nightie, sat on the hearth. I noted the page I was on (never have needed
to fold pages (horror!), or use bookmarks), and put it down, waiting for
one of them to speak. Kelly cleared her throat, indicating that she
wanted to speak first. Interestingly, she looked nervous, but quite
resolved about what she'd come in there for.

After a couple of false starts, she was finally able to say, "Dan, I've
thought about what you said, and the questions you had. When I've, uh,
masturbated, I've had what I thought were orgasms; but nothing like what
Jan has told me she's experienced, so I don't think that's what they
really were. So what I want from you is for you to help me learn what
kinds of things will help me have stronger orgasms, and help me _start_
learning what things I like and don't like about sex. I want you to
teach me about what it feels like when a man uses his mouth on me, and
how I can do the same for him. I want to learn touching, and kissing,
and all of that. I want to learn all of the things that you've shown Jan
- she's told me what they are, all of them. I want to know what a penis
looks and feels like, when it's hard and when it's not, what a man's
testicles look like and feel like. I want to see what a man looks like
when he ejaculates, and even what his semen feels and tastes like. I'm
even willing to find out what *I* taste like, when I'm as excited as Jan
has told me she gets; I never seem to get wet enough to really know.
Honestly, I don't even really know what *I* look like, down there, where
my vagina and everything are."

She looked at me, hesitantly, and I nodded for her to continue.

"If you're as patient and gentle and everything as Jan has told me - and
I think maybe you are, now - then I might even want to go as far as, uh,
losing my virginity." At that, Jan's head snapped around to look at her,
eyes large as saucers. Clearly, that last hadn't been discussed between
them.

"Okay, Kelly, you've got my attention, and you've settled my mind about
some of the things that worried me. Do you understand that I wasn't
trying to embarrass you, or make you ashamed or anything like that?"

"Yes. I know - now - that you were just trying to make sure that I was
really serious, and that I understood what I was getting myself into. I
think that I can show you I'm serious, and that I'm not afraid of what
I'm asking you."

"How so?" I asked.

She answered by standing up, and dropping her robe, to stand naked in
front of me. That seemed to surprise Jan, as well.

I looked first at her face - she returned my look without flinching or
blushing. As she stood there, hands hanging at her sides, neither hiding
nor exposing anything in particular, I looked her over, slowly and
carefully. On her own, she turned slightly, so that I could see a bit
more of the back of her, for a couple of minutes before turning back to
face me.

I looked her in the eye again, and still she didn't blush. I said,
"Okay, you've convinced me of that part, too. You can put your robe back
on, now."

She started to reach for it, but changed her mind, and simply sat back
down on the chair - again, taking no special steps to show or hide
anything.

"Well, you've convinced me. My opinion of you has improved greatly - not
because of how you look; nice as it is, there are millions of pretty
girls in the world - but because of your intelligence, character, and
yes, even soul. If you really want me to teach you, I will, as long as
you understand that you can cancel the whole thing at any time - and
once you cancel it, that will be the end of it - I won't ever bother you
about it, and you won't ask me to do it again. As for losing your
virginity, that's up to you - if you want to stop short of that, that's
fine, I'll understand, and not bother you about it, and if you want us
to be together again without going any farther, that's fine, too."

She looked me squarely in the eye, and said, "I understand, and agree
completely."

"Okay, with that settled, how does this happen?"

Here, Jan spoke up for the first time. "Well, John and Leo have a soccer
practice tomorrow afternoon. It's supposed to go from 1 to 3, and I
thought that I could go with them, take them for ice cream after it was
over, then to the video store to check out a movie or two. You know how
they are, Uncle Dan, and all that should keep us busy until 5:00, or a
little later. If it doesn't, for some reason, I've got a couple of other
things I can use to keep us all out of here until then. So you've got
from whenever we leave tomorrow until 5:00 at the earliest. They've been
kind of bugging me to spend some time with them, and this is a good
chance - and reason! - to do it."

I responded "Yeah, but the idea is to keep it relaxed and easy, and that
doesn't seem like much time if things go the way Kelly seems to want
them to. How about if I pay for a movie between the ice cream and video
store? That'll add another couple of hours, and keep any of us from
feeling any particular hurry by pushing the deadline back to say, 6:30?"

Jan agreed, and then Kelly took over, saying, "I have to admit that I'm
nervous about this, but I'm willing to do whatever you say." looking at
me.

I told her "First thing for you to learn is that it's not a question of
doing what I say - it's doing what you're comfortable with, when you're
ready. You're obviously not ashamed for me to see you nude" - they both
smiled - "so how about if we start with an anatomy lesson" - here, Jan
giggled - "and we can just see where it goes from there?"

Kelly agreed, and that seemed to settle it. They got up, and Kelly
picked up her robe - and showing me how firm her breasts were when they
didn't move during the process - but not putting it on. As they started
to leave, Kelly paused a moment, then asked Jan "Uh, Jan? Is it okay if
I come back there in a few minutes, instead of now?"

Jan smiled at her, nodded, and left after giving me a wink.

Kelly came over to me, and asked, "Is it okay if I sit down?"

"Sure"

"Um, on your lap?"

"That's fine, too."

She did, with her legs to the side, and turned to look at my face,
studying it for a few moments. I put my arms around her, but loosely, so
she'd know I wasn't starting anything yet.

Then she looked me in the eyes, and said, "You know, you're pretty
special."

"I try to be."

"I know, and I think that's what MAKES you special - you really do
_try_, because you CARE. You joke about yourself, and play dumb
sometimes, but that's only to help folks relax around you. I know you're
not as dumb as you pretend sometimes; in fact, you're kinda scary how
smart you are. You've got more love and compassion and SOUL in your
little finger than anybody I know has in their whole body. I love you,
and you make me want to be like you."

Where the hell did all this come from?

"Well, in case you hadn't noticed, you aren't built right to be like
me."

For the first time ever, I saw Kelly give someone the Goober look - but
it was me she was looking at.

"C'mon, you know better than that. One of the reasons I love you is
because you're smart like that; don't go blowing it by playing like both
of us are dumb."

What is this kid? A witch or something?

"Sorry. Sometimes, stuff like that just kinda slips out."

"I understand; I do stuff like that, too, so people don't get too shook
up around *me*. Just remember, I'm not those other ones - *I'm* not
scared by who you are. You can talk straight with me."

With that, I could see in her eyes that she really had fallen in love
with me; and I started to wonder if I hadn't fallen more than a little
in love with her. She leaned forward, and kissed me on the lips - and I
kissed her back. Things quickly heated up, and before long, she had her
arms around me, hugging me, and I was hugging her and caressing her back
while our tongues dueled in each other's mouths.

It was Kelly who broke the kiss, leaning back to look into my face with
smoky, lustful eyes. Tilting her head, she said, "I think maybe I got
the right teacher, here. But if I don't get back to Jan, she's probably
going to come looking for me, and I don't think I want an audience, just
yet."

I could only respond by saying, "You might be right about Jan, but she
might just figure it out, and stay where she is, too. Probably better if
we wait until tomorrow, though, when there isn't any pressure or worry."

She nodded, and stood up before asking me "Uh, could you give me a hug
before I go? I mean, without your shirt? I want to feel your skin on
mine before I go to bed."

I readily agreed, and stood up. I had barely gotten my hands on the
first button when she said, "Here, let me. I want to learn how, and this
seems like a good place to start."

I laughed, and put my hands back down at my sides, leaving her free to
take care of my shirt herself. The first couple of buttons seemed to
give her a little trouble, but she quickly got the hang of it, and with
a little help from me, soon it on the floor.

Looking up into my eyes, she raised her arms to hug me, and I did the
same. She moved into my arms and started hugging me, pressing her
breasts into my chest while she held me tightly. I held her, as well,
just as tightly, and we stood there hugging each other for a couple
minutes before she again moved away from me. As she stepped back, I
could see that her nipples where erect, and looked forward to being able
to give them the attention they deserved.

Smiling at me, she said, "That's nice, but I really do have to go to
bed."

I smiled back, and teased her with "Well, if that's the way you're going
to be, then fine. Just go off to bed; see if I care! Good night!"

She giggled, and as she turned to leave, I gave her a pat on the butt,
and lovingly told her "Sleep well, Kelly." She looked over her shoulder
at me, smiled, and quietly headed back to Jan's room, making sure I had
a nice view on the way.

I turned off the TV, kicked off my shoes, and lay down; but sleep didn't
come as soon as I'd have wanted.

...

The next morning, I was awakened by a pair of soft lips on mine, and a
hand on my chest.

When the lips left, and without opening my eyes, I said "If that's John
or Leo, we're going to have to have a *serious* talk!" - and heard
Kelly's giggle in return.

Opening my eyes and looking up, I could see that she'd worn her robe,
but hadn't bothered to fasten it, so that it hung open, showing me her
breasts and pubic area.

I raised my hand, palm up, and looked at her questioningly; she
understood, and nodded her permission for me to touch her.

She twitched a little when I finally touched her, but didn't flinch or
make any sound; I cupped her breast in my hand, and gently ran my thumb
over the nipple, causing her areola to pucker, and her nipple to harden.
Not wanting to play favorites, after a moment I moved my hand to the
other breast, repeating my actions, and getting the same results. When
she started to pant a little, I sat up; she moved closer, and I was able
to use both hands. After perhaps a minute or two, she leaned forward - I
could see her eyes getting smoky with arousal - and began kissing me. At
first, she was nearly as hesitant as she had been the night before, but
quickly equaled the previous nights gains.

When she moved to sit on my knees, I looked at the clock on the mantel,
and seeing that the boys wouldn't likely be awake for another hour or
so, didn't object when she spread her legs slightly so that she was
facing me full on.

She leaned forward, putting her head on my shoulder, and began hugging
me, making it difficult to continue playing with her breasts. So I
carefully moved my hands to her back, stroking the length of it, from
her shoulders to her waist. When she started pressing her breasts into
my chest, I took it as a cue to expand my touch, and slowly started
going farther and farther in my explorations. After a few minutes, I was
sliding my hands down her back to her ass, which I would caress and
squeeze gently, then over to her hips and back up her sides, pausing to
run my thumbs over the sides of her breasts, then curling around to her
shoulders and neck, before starting the cycle all over again.

It didn't take long before she was panting, and starting to arch her
back so that her pelvis rubbed against my leg while she started kissing
my neck and shoulder.

Several minutes of that had my motor going pretty good, and it was all I
could do to stop my caresses and simply hold her when I said "Kelly?"

"Uhn?" she gasped.

"I think we'd better stop."

"W- Wuh- why?"

"Because everyone will be getting up in a little while, and you don't
want an audience, remember? As nice as this feels"

"Uh-HUH!"

"- I don't know if we would be able to stop before the boys saw us, and
that wouldn't be a good idea, would it?"

"Nuh- No."

"Believe me, Kelly, I don't really want to stop, either - but if we can
quit now, then we'll have the whole afternoon, okay?"

Reluctantly, she released her hold on me, and sat straight up again,
with my hands on her hips.

I could see in her eyes that it was something of a battle for her to get
control, and did my best to help by simply holding still and not doing
anything.

A couple of minutes later, she was in full control again, and looked in
my eyes to say "Damn! If you hadn't said something, I was ready to keep
that up forever. You've got me more hot and bothered than I've ever felt
before!"

I laughed a bit, and said "I don't know about *that*, but I can tell you
were enjoying it", looking down at where she'd been rubbing herself
against me, and the small wet spot she'd left on my pants leg. When she
saw it, she got a surprised look on her face, and without hesitation,
dipped a hand down to her crotch, where she ran a finger between her
vaginal lips. Bringing it back up, we could both see that it was quite
wet; we also detected an ever-so-slight odor of sweet muskiness. Her
eyes wide, she looked at me and said "I've _never_ been that wet there
before! What are you doing to me, and how can you do that?"

I laughed again, and told her "*I'm* not the one doing it, silly, YOU
are." - which earned me a dirty look. I continued, "I think it's just a
case of having the right situation and person, is all. All I'm doing is
giving you the attention you deserve, and some encouragement."

"You're encouraging me, alright! I'm starting to understand what I've
been missing out on, and why Jan said you helped her so much! Is the
whole afternoon going to be as nice as this?"

"That depends, Kelly."

She frowned slightly, and asked, "Depends on what?"

"On whether or not you want it to. If you get scared or anything like
that, then, no, it won't. But if you're as open to new feelings and
experiences this afternoon as you were last night and just now, then
yes, it will be as nice - if not more."

She got a very thoughtful look on her face, followed a bit later by one
of eager anticipation.

Patting her hip, I said, "Now, I think it's time you let me get up, and
you went in there and got dressed, so we don't shock the boys too much!"

She laughed, and stood up; before *I* got up, though, I leaned forward,
and softly kissed her on the end of each breast, making her gasp, and
her nipples harden again. She looked at me, and said "If you keep that
up, I'm not going to make it to this afternoon!"

"Sure you will - because you have to."

"Yeah, I will - you rat!" With a smile on her face, she made a show of
closing and belting her robe. Stepping forward to give me a quick kiss
on the lips, she made her way back to Jan's room, and closed the door
behind her.

The morning passed entirely too slowly. They had all bunched up in the
den with me, watching cartoons on TV. Jan noticed the looks that Kelly
kept giving me, and just smiled at each of us whenever we looked at her.
I watched her closely, and never saw any sign of jealousy or envy or
anything but support and affection.

We all had a light lunch - the boys so they didn't feel bogged down for
soccer practice, Jan (I think) from nerves, and Kelly and I in
anticipation of _our_ 'practice'.

Jan even went so far as to suggest to the boys that they get an early
start, so they could warm up a little before the practice session. When
she offered to play with them, they readily agreed, and all of them were
out of the house by 12:30.

As we heard the door close, I looked at Kelly, and saw that she was
having an attack of nerves. I have to confess that I was too, a bit.
When she looked at me, I told her "Kelly, there's nothing to worry
about, or be afraid of. YOU are in charge, here - nothing is going to
happen without YOUR permission. If you tell me 'stop', then I'll stop -
right then and right there, without hesitation. If I start to do
something you don't like or don't want me to, just say so, and that will
be the end of it. I'm not going to be upset or angry with you if there's
something you don't want to do - I'm here to _help_ YOU. There's no
hurry or rush; if we run out of time today, then we can start again
another time, if that's what you want. Since Jan has talked to you about
her and I, you know that she and I didn't do everything the first time,
either, and that I'm not going to rush you or _knowingly_ do anything to
make you uncomfortable or unhappy. If I *do* happen to do anything like
that, I will *stop*, immediately, when you tell me. You told me that you
love me; well, I love you too, and I don't want to do ANYTHING to upset
you in ANY way. Okay?"

That seemed to calm her considerably, and she said "Thank you. I'm
nervous because I've never done anything like this before, and I don't
know what - if anything - I'll like or dislike, and I don't want to
disappoint you."

Surprised, I answered, "There's nothing you could possibly do or say
that would disappoint me. If you want to tell me right now that you've
changed your mind, and don't want anything to happen, then I'll accept
that, and we can go watch the boys. I won't be upset or angry or any of
that kind of nonsense - like I said, I'm here to try and make YOU happy,
and if that's what would make you happy, then that's what we'll do. As
I've told Jan, there are some things about sex that some people like,
while others DON'T like them, and others simply don't care. That's why
we're here - to find out what YOU like, and don't like; what *I* think
about any of it is irrelevant to what YOU think about it."

That seemed to put her at ease, and a bit later, she said, "Uh, how do
we, um, get started?"

"How do you want it to? Last night, I suggested an anatomy lesson, if
you like, so that we can kind of ease into the rest of it. Jan's told me
that there isn't much to the sex education you all have at school, so
that seems like a good place to start; but if you already know what's
what, then we can still start that way, and just not take as long with
it."

She blushed a bit, and said "Um, I've learned a little bit about it from
Jan, but I don't think I really *know* anything, so that's probably a
good idea."

"Okay, that's where we start, then. Have you ever seen any kind of
pictures or diagrams or anything describing things?"

"No, not really." she answered, a little unsure, looking down.

"That's fine; I'm asking so I know how and where to start, okay? It's
not a test, and there aren't any right or wrong answers; just reality,
okay? I can find a couple drawings that we can use for reference, and we
can get started."

That cheered her up, and she looked at me again when she said, "Okay.
Um, what can I do?"

"Well, I think we'll want some room, so that pretty much excludes the
bedrooms. How about a couple blankets on the floor in the den, and maybe
a couple pillows or cushions? If you want to get that part ready, I'll
get the diagrams, and we can go from there."

She nodded her agreement, and as I headed for the computer in the den,
she made for the linen closet.

A few minutes later, when I'd printed the diagrams I'd found on the net,
I turned around to see that she'd laid the blankets out, and had a
couple of pillows handy. Sitting on the couch, she looked a bit nervous,
but eager, as well.

She watched me carefully as I told her "Kelly, I think it's pretty
obvious that as this goes along, we're going to wind up naked with each
other. How that happens is up to you."

She blinked a bit, and said, "How is that?"

"Well, we can start with all our clothes on, and just take off whatever
is necessary when we need to, or we can both get completely naked right
off. If we both get naked right off, we can do it separately, or
together, privately or with each other. Or, if you want, one of us can
be naked, and the other one keep their clothes on until YOU decide they
need to come off."

Finally realizing that she really was in control, she calmed down again,
and with an impish smile, said "Uh, I think I'd like us to be naked from
the start."

"That's fine. How do you want us to do that?"

"I think I want to take your clothes off, and then have you take mine.
Is that okay?" she asked, mischievously.

"It is if that's what you want."

With that, I calmly walked over to the edge of the blankets she'd
spread, put the diagrams face down on the floor, and simply stood there,
looking at her.

After a moment, she stood up, and moved over in front of me, facing me.
She hesitantly reached up for my shirt buttons, and when I didn't say
anything, began unfastening them. When they were all undone, she pulled
my shirt open, and looked into my face, as though asking permission. I
nodded, and she leaned forward slightly, to first kiss my chest, and
then start caressing it. After perhaps a minute or two, she stopped, and
looking up into my face again, started pulling my shirt off. I helped as
needed, and shortly, it was on the couch.

Taking a deep breath, her hand was trembling as she started to reach for
my belt buckle. Without touching her, I said "You might find it easier
later if my shoes come off, next, instead."

Blushing furiously, she looked up into my face before squatting down to
undo my shoelaces, and as I raised each foot in turn, my shoes, which
she set at the end of the couch.

Standing again, she was much calmer as she reached for my belt, and
after a little fumbling, got it undone. Hesitantly, she reached for the
snap of my jeans; I pulled my stomach in a bit to help her, but
otherwise didn't say or do anything. Once the snap was open, her hands
were visibly trembling as she reached for the zipper, and pulled it
down. Once that hurdle was out of the way, it didn't take her long to
kneel down, and get my jeans down around my ankles; and after I'd raised
each foot, on the couch with my shirt. Staying on her knees, she
tentatively reached for my jockey shorts several times before finally
laying her hand on my semi-erect penis that was gently tenting the front
of them. When she looked up at me again, I nodded, and she gently began
squeezing it. After a few moments, though, her curiosity got the better
of her, and she grasped the waistband of my shorts, and pulled them down
to about mid-thigh. As my genitals popped free, she exclaimed "Oh!" and
paused to examine them for a bit. Finally, though, she finished pulling
my shorts down, and when I raised each foot, removed my socks, as well.
The whole lot were soon on the couch, too.

Now that I was naked before her, she was free to do as she wished; it
didn't take her long to muster the courage to use a couple of fingers to
grasp my penis, and move it around so that she could look at it from
different angles; and move it out of the way so she could look over my
testicles. Finally releasing it, she put her hands on my thighs, and
felt the muscles of my legs, and then around to my butt. Apparently
satisfied that I was really there, and really naked, she stood and again
kissed me on the chest before stepping back to face me.

To my raised eyebrow, she nodded her readiness, and I stepped forward to
begin undressing her. Starting with her blouse, I slowly unbuttoned it,
kissing each newly exposed bit of flesh, from just below her throat, to
just above her navel; and as I removed it, I kissed her collarbones, and
then shoulders. Her blouse easily found a home at the opposite end of
the couch from my clothes. Her bra fastened in the front, and I
carefully unhooked it, and gently pulled the cups away from her breasts,
pausing to kiss her dark brown nipples as they came into view, causing a
catch in her breath both times.

Kneeling, I gently slid my hands down her sides, then her thighs, on my
way to removing her shoes; she hadn't bothered with socks. I looked up
at her as I reached for the waistband of her pants, pausing just before
touching her, giving her the chance to change her mind. She nodded to
me, and I carefully unfastened the waist, and then the other buttons
that made up the fly on them. I reached back to hold and caress her
buttocks briefly before taking the waistband and gently pulling it down,
sliding her slacks to her ankles, and then off of her. Before me, I saw
the pale nylon of her bikini briefs, along with a hint of wetness at the
juncture of her legs. Leaning forward, I kissed her bellybutton as I
slid my fingers under the waistband of her panties; grasping them, they
too slid down her hips, allowing me to plant soft kisses on her hips and
belly and just above her pubic hair. Sliding them the rest of the way
down, they joined the rest of her clothing on the couch. Before standing
again, I leaned forward once more, to place a kiss first on her soft,
black, straight pubic hair - where I was greeted by the gentle scent of
her womanhood - then on the inside front of each of her thighs, where
they met her pelvis.

Standing again, I took a step away from her, and could see that she was
already developing an aroused flush, her shoulders and upper chest
noticeably darker from the blood.

We stood there, looking at each other, for a couple of minutes before I
offered her my hand, and said, "Shall we begin, then?"

That broke her gaze at my body, and she took my hand as we moved to sit
next to each other on the blanket.

Once seated and comfortable, I picked up the drawings, and explained to
her that they were 'generic' diagrams of the genitals of each sex, and
that we were going to compare them to the real thing. From there, things
went much as they had when I'd done this with Jan - except more quickly,
since Kelly was much more sure about what she wanted. Her clitoris
amazed me - though barely visible most of the time, when erect, it
protruded quite clearly under it's hood; and judging by the way she
reacted when I touched it at one point, quite sensitive. I was quite
pleased by the size and shape of her labia, too, when we got to them:
thin, they were barely darker than her skin, and even when fully
extended, were barely visible in her cleft. When we got to the part
about looking at her labia, I had to find a mirror; I'd completely
forgotten about it, and didn't have one handy. Kelly, too, was
interested in seeing what her hymen looked like, and it was with much
less hesitation and discussion that we got her the view she was after,
with my help - though she did express surprise and amazement on how wet
she'd gotten inside. Though not as 'fluid' as Jan, she was still quite
wet; more than ample for what was yet to come (apologies for the pun).

Then, of course, it was her turn, and I laid back as I'd done before,
with similar warnings about sensitive spots. Kelly, too, asked about the
difference between my circumcised penis, and the uncut one of the
diagram; and was more accepting of the explanation. Here, too, Kelly was
much more direct and inquisitive than Jan had been; and I answered all
of her questions just as directly.

Once assured that she was reasonably normal in her particulars, and
satisfied that she understood the function and workings of the male
anatomy, she laid back and got thoughtful for a bit. Content to let her
move at her own pace, I waited patiently until she came back to our time
zone.

Looking at me, she said, "I can stop now, can't I?"

"Yup."

"And you really wouldn't be mad or upset or anything, either, would
you?"

"Nope."

She looked into my eyes for a while, and saw that I was telling her the
pure, unadulterated truth.

She finally spoke again: "You know, you really are kinda scary."

"How's that?"

"Because you're not trying to bullshit me."

Surprised, as much at the language as the statement, I asked, "Why would
I want to do that?"

"Cause I'm laying here, naked, and you've seen everything there is about
me, and you're still willing to stop if I want; and even more, I really
do believe that you wouldn't be mad or anything."

"Yeah, and?"

"And I don't think there are many people in the world that would do
that. You really are putting what I want and what I need ahead of
anything else, right now. And that's what's so scary - I don't know
*anybody* that has ever been that honest with me, or that caring *about*
me."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"See? That's what I mean - you really *are* sorry. Not because you're
supposed to be, or anything like that, but because you really do
*care*."

"Isn't that the way people are supposed to be?"

"Yeah, but it never happens that way. Mostly, they're just trying to
find a way to use each other - for their jobs, for sex, for money, or
whatever else they're after. Why aren't *you* like that?"

"Damned if I know. About the only thing I can figure is that I'm just
not willing to settle for anything less. I can't change the world, at
least not all at once, but I can try to change ME, and maybe even some
of the people that I come into contact with. Maybe not a lot, but a
little; and with a little luck and enough time, maybe it will be enough
to make a bigger change."

"What are you, some kind of saint, or something?"

"Not likely. When I was your age, I got into enough trouble for any 3
people. Then I went into the Navy to get away from home, and they helped
me start getting my head on straight. Nothing like working on airplanes,
where people's lives are literally in your hands to give you a sense of
perspective - and doing it RIGHT to give you confidence and self-
respect. Traveling around in Asia, I got the chance to see what other
countries and people and cultures are like, and that got me interested
in the how and why of it - and that got me interested in learning what I
could about, of all things, philosophy."

"I thought philosophy was just people talking about stuff that didn't
matter to anybody."

"Sadly, that's true in a lot of cases. But if you take the time to learn
_philosophy_, and not just the junk most philosophers try to teach, then
it DOES make a difference. You start learning about ethics and morals
and all kinds of things, and you learn how to use philosophy in real
life, to solve problems and find answers."

"You mean like religion?"

"No, religion is a special case. Religion is kind of like fill-in-the-
blanks philosophy: rather than helping you find answers for yourself,
religion offers you an answer - whether it's really right, or not."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, you know about the Ten Commandments, right? Well, they are a
specific religious application of the philosophic fields of ethics and
morals. Except that the religious versions are usually geared toward
keeping some kind of control over people - usually by the religious
leaders - than finding ways for people to solve THEIR problems."

"For instance?"

"For instance, whichever commandment it is that says to honor thy father
and thy mother. They tell you to do it, but without saying WHY; and if
you don't do it, they try to make you feel guilty about something, and
control you through your guilt - whether or not that guilt is actually
deserved."

"Like how?"

"Well, take you, for example. From what you've told me, your parents
don't pay much attention to you, and don't much seem to care what
happens to you. So exactly *why* should you honor them? Respect them,
sure, but HONOR them? For what? Why should you honor somebody that
doesn't appear to give a happy damn what happens to you, good or bad?
Why should you be punished or feel guilty about not honoring someone
like that?"

"It sounds like you're saying that they have to earn my honor, somehow."

"Don't they? Would you give your money to anybody on the street that
walked up and asked you for it? No? Then why should you give something
far more personal and intimate to the emotional equivalent of a
stranger, even if they are related to you?"

"What about love?"

"What about it?"

"You say that you love me. Why?"

"Simple. Because you have _value_ to me."

"What, I'm something you can buy or sell?"

"No, I didn't say that. I said that you have value to me, not that you
were valuable to me."

"What's the difference?"

"If you were _valuaBLE_ to me, that would me that I could use you for
some gain of my own, either financial or sexual or whatever, at no cost
to myself. But to have _value TO_ me, it means that there are things
about you that, if lost, would COST me something, as a person."

"Such as?"

"Such as your intelligence. To see a mind as good as yours is a pleasure
to me, BECAUSE I see so few of them, and it sometimes gets tiring not
being able to speak as freely as I can with you. Such as your self-
respect, because it's so rare. Such as your independence, because that's
even rarer. You are of value to me - I love you - because of the best
that is inside you, pretty much the same as you love me - I am of value
to you - because of the best that's within ME."

"So love is a kind of trading?"

"At its most basic and fundamental level, it IS trading. The trading of
one's best values for the best values of another, freely, as equals,
value for value. That's why Susan wasn't willing to stay Phil's
girlfriend: there wasn't LOVE involved. She offered HER best, and Phil
offered HIS best, and because the values involved weren't EQUAL, she
felt cheated after a fashion, and withdrew her love. The value he
offered her - the content of his mind and character - his love - was
worth far less than the love - HER character and values - she was
offering. To continue such an unequal trade is to commit suicide, either
emotionally or spiritually or mentally; Susan simply has too much self-
respect - self-VALUE - to do that."

After a bit, she asked me "Then how does sex fit into it? Jan told me
that you said having sex and making love were different."

"As far as I'm concerned, they are. 'Making love' is the physical
equivalent of the spiritual love I just described. Having sex is the
physical ACT, but without emotional attachment involved in making love.
Last night, when we were kissing, that was 'making love' on a small
scale, because we truly cared for each other. Kissing, without that
bond, is only having sex, on an equally small scale. Get it?"

With that, I saw a light come on in her eyes - that sensation almost
everyone has when something that's been bothering them suddenly becomes
clear, and they really, truly UNDERSTAND it, fully and completely.

"Then I want you to teach me how to MAKE LOVE. Completely. To ALL of
me." she told me, confidently, with an absolute radiance.

Yeah, she got it.

I began by leaning down to kiss her, softly, on her forehead, then the
bridge of her nose. Both eyes were next, then her cheeks, and finally -
gently - her lips. Her return kiss was equally gentle, and she patiently
accepted it when I moved on to kiss more of her face before returning to
her lips. This time, my kisses were firmer, as were hers. Gradually, in
an ever--increasing cycle, we became more and more insistent, and more
and more involved with each other - at times, I didn't know where I
ended and she began.

As our bonding started, so did our explorations: reaching out, my hand
landed on her breast, gently as a butterfly, then began stroking it from
base to tip the same way. Firm as her breasts were, I could feel them
tighten even more at my touch, her nipple first hardening, then erecting
to press into the palm of my hand.

Her hand took a less direct route - first touching my face, she softly
and slowly trailed it down my chest, then my belly, until she reached my
manhood, full of blood but not yet erect. Her gentle stroking soon
corrected that deficiency, and she continued on by cupping my testicles
in her hand, and stroking the sack, and even rolling them in her hand
before trailing her fingers back up, and along the length of me.

Following her example, I traced my way down her body, fingertips barely
touching her, pausing here and there to create little designs on her
skin, before reaching her pubis, and finally, her womanly treasure. I
was not surprised to find that her clitoris had raised its head in
greeting, nor that her inner recess had opened for my explorations. I
softly traced the outline of her pubic hair, and make several trips
across and through its lushness, marveling at its softness. However, I
was continuously drawn back to the damp, hot opening between her legs,
and began exploring it with my finger - tracing the outline of the lips
guarding it; drawing my fingertip between her inner lips, feeling them
almost clutching at me, as though inviting me in. Ultimately, I did as
they bid, and carefully pressed a fingertip in toward her very core -and
was made welcome by the hunching of her hips, inviting me in even
farther.

I went carefully, though - pressing in slightly, and then withdrawing,
to make sure that her slippery juices were well distributed before
pressing further inward. I met the resistance of her maidenhead, but
found my way past it without hurting her, until, finally, I had an
entire digit in her. Her moans into my mouth encouraged me to further
action, and after a short pause, I began stroking it in and out of her,
feeling her inner lips clasping at my finger as it withdrew, and guiding
me on the way back in. In a surprisingly short time, her pelvis was
rising and falling in time with my actions, and she'd broken off our
kiss to gasp and moan as her passion increased. After only a couple of
minutes, she was near the peak, but somehow unable to cross it. It was
then that I moved my thumb down to apply pressure to her clitoris, so
that her pelvic movement caused the pressure against my thumb to vary
each time she raised her hips. That, apparently, was enough, and it took
perhaps a half dozen such thrusts to finally grant her the release she'd
sought for so long: when it finally hit, her first spasm froze her in
mid-air: hips raised, pressing her clitoris against my thumb, with my
finger inside her as far as it would reach. I could feel the milking
action of her vaginal walls as she tried to draw my digit even farther
inside; to increase her pleasure, I made circling motions with it,
causing her to gasp out the last bit of air she had in her lungs before
her vaginal mouth clamped down as her contractions continued, one after
the other. It was only when her oxygen-starved brain demanded
refreshment that she finally stopped her climax, and drew breath again.

After that first draw of breath, she started panting, and lowered her
hips again. I slowly withdrew my finger, causing her to moan, and
evincing a flutter from her vaginal mouth. Selfishly, I cleaned it off
with my own tongue, savoring the sweet/spicy flavor she'd blessed it
with. Satisfied, I lay next to her, holding her as she continued trying
to catch her breath, and regain her senses. Her good health and youthful
vigor helped her recovery, and it was only a few minutes before she
opened her eyes, looking up at me with a gratitude I'd never seen
before. To give her a little more time to recover, I gestured something
to drink, and she nodded. Returning from the kitchen with some cool
water and a couple of glasses, I filled one, and held her up so that she
could drink. A few swallows seemed to satisfy her, and she indicated
that I should put the glass down. When I did, she turned and hugged me
fiercely, crying into my chest.

When she finally released me, and lay back down, she said "Thank you!
Now I *KNOW* that what I felt before wasn't orgasms - THAT was. That's
the first time in my life that I've ever felt like that, and it's
because of you. I had no idea that _anything_ could feel that good!"

"Like I said, it was just a matter of having the right attention and
some encouragement. I was just lucky enough to be able to offer them at
the right time, and in the right way. YOU did the rest by being open to
the experience, and willing to take advantage of it."

"On the subject of taking advantage, are you going to, of me?"

I laughed, and said "Only if you want me to, Kelly - though if you
*want* me to, I don't think it could really be considered 'taking
advantage'."

"I do want - but before that, I want to find out about all the other
things we can do together. Um, Jan told me that you, uh, use your mouth
to, you know, make her climax. Could you do that to me, too?"

I smiled, and said, "It would be my pleasure, I assure you!" making her
laugh before replying,"Yeah, I heard that."

With her fully recovered, I was ready to resume the 'lessons' - and
lowered myself to kiss her, softly, on the lips. She responded eagerly,
but not demanding; knowing that she was about to experience something
new.

I kissed her lips again, briefly, several more times, before moving down
to plant one on her throat, just next to her collarbone. The next was
was halfway between collar and the hollow of her throat. I continued
kissing her as I worked my way to the other side, and beyond, to her
shoulder, where I kissed, then softly bit, her. Placing my kisses more
closely to each other, I moved back toward her neck, until I was past
their juncture, and halfway up her neck to her ear. Taking the muscle in
my teeth, I made growling noises, and gently - so as to leave no bruises
- waggled my head back and forth, as though chewing on her. She laughed,
and giggled, and even scrunched her shoulder up before I released her
and moved on to take her earlobe between my lips, and softly 'chew' on
it. When she gasped, I released it, and using just the very tip of my
tongue, traced the outline and edges of her shell-like ear - and
eliciting soft moans of appreciation.

When I was done with her ear, I slowly traced the line of her jaw with
my tongue, tasting the faint saltiness of her skin as I did so, until I
reached the other ear, where I again outlined and traced it with my
tongue - and getting another set of moans, stronger this time, for my
efforts. From there, I moved my way down to her other shoulder, and
softly nibbled and licked at the length of it. While doing that, I
placed my hand on her stomach, and gradually eased it up until my
fingers were touching the lower swell of her breast, and began tracing
patterns on her chest and breasts - but always being careful not to
actually touch her areolas and nipples. By the time I finished her
shoulder, she was panting softly, and arching her back in an effort to
get firmer contact with my hand, and get some attention to the ends of
her breasts. When she reached that point, I moved on to placing soft,
damp kisses across her collarbone, and then - randomly - across her
upper chest: I'd put the tip of my tongue on her skin as I kissed her,
and then use my mouth to apply a mild suction to the same spot as I
withdrew. I gradually moved down, until I was at the upper slopes of her
breasts; there, I branched out to apply the same tender kisses, but all
_around_ her breasts, circling each and paying special attention the
sensitive areas where they grew out of her sides. As her arousal
increased, and her moaning started, I slowly moved my focus to her
breasts- first one, then the other - still giving her the same kisses,
and applying them in inward-spiraling motions toward her nipples - but
stopping short of them. By this time, her areolas had puckered so much
that they looked like miniature volcanoes sitting on the ends of her
breasts, with her fully erect nipples looking like angry plumes of dark
smoke. Moaning as she was, she still managed to gasp out "Dammit, DO IT!
*NOW*, before I go crazy!" - so I did.

When I finally took the end of her breast in my mouth, and started
firmly sucking on it, she had what could only be described as a mini
orgasm: her entire body tensed, and where my hand rested on her belly, I
could feel several small spasms pass through her as she gasped for air.
It didn't last but for a few seconds, but that was enough to bring her
back down slightly, and to reassure me that I was having the desired
effect. I moved on to the other breast, and did the same, though with
lesser - but still pleasing - results: she let out a loud moan, and
arched her back to try and get more of her breast in my mouth. Moving
back and forth between them, I gave each of her delightful mounds
similar treatment: randomly placing small kisses or licks or suction at
different areas on the breast itself, teasing the nipples with my
tongue-tip, washing the entire surface thoroughly with my tongue,
nibbling at the nipples with my lips, and applying soft, rhythmic
suction on the entire areola and nipple. Before long, she was at the
same high arousal, when I again started moving, this time, lower, toward
her pubis.

Taking a decidedly indirect route, I showered her with soft, dry kisses
all across her belly and hips and abdomen, pausing for a while to pay
special attention to her navel - rimming it with my tongue, dipping my
tongue tip into it like a cat lapping at milk, placing my whole mouth
over it and applying pulsating suction. The focus on her bellybutton
started her moaning even louder, and got her pelvis moving in small
thrusting motions.

Finally, though, I reached my goal: her pubic area, and more
specifically, her firmly rounded Mound of Venus, where her clitoris had
raised its head to watch out for me. As I drew my tongue down through
her soft, straight pubic hair, she readily spread her legs for me,
allowing me easier access to her treasures.

Her vaginal lips seemed to remember my previous visit, and were extended
- if barely visible through her down - and glistening with her dew.
Pressing my hands softly against the backs of her thighs, she quickly
raised her knees, tilting herself up for me - and bringing me a wave of
the delightful, heady aroma of a woman, aroused and ready. Glancing up
at her face, I could easily read the desire and anticipation on it, and
dipped my head to slide the tip of my tongue through her cleft, bottom
to top. As my tongue passed between her labia, I got a full taste of her
essence - sweet and spicy at the same time, as it had been on my finger,
but stronger and more pleasant - and then on up to gently brush across
her clitoris, causing her pelvis to snap up toward me slightly as she
released a full-throated moan of pleasure.

With that kind of encouragement, what could I do, but continue? I did it
again, but got a quieter - if no less enthusiastic - moan for the
effort. I made several more such passages, each time getting an audible
sound of appreciation.

Using my thumbs to spread her slightly, I took the opportunity to
examine her more close than I'd been able to, before.

What I saw delighted me: her mons was gently curved from her pubic bone
down to the entrance to her vagina; full without being 'meaty', and
covered with a medium-dense patch of straight, soft, dark hair. Her
vaginal opening was little more than a slit; guarded by two thin, smooth
lips that gently progressed upward to the hood of her slightly larger
than usual - and very erect - clitoris. Her pubic hair was short enough
to not be in the way of her vaginal opening or clitoris; the net effect
was to cover, without actually _hiding_, her treasures.

As I resumed my oral administrations, I found her hair to be soft and
long enough to tickle my lips, but not enough to interfere with my
attentions - there never was any of that pause-to-pull-a-troublesome-
hair-out nonsense.

I started by taking each of her small labia in my mouth, and sucking on
them, followed with a soft chewing, and then a nibbling with my lips,
gently pulling them a bit father out. I switched between them several
time, with her hands on my head to guide me when she wanted a change.
From there, I opened my mouth as far as it would go, and managed to
cover her, from perineum to clitoris, and started firmly sucking on her
while softly circling her clit with my tongue - her reaction was to
start moaning loudly, and arching her pelvis up even more, exposing her
back entrance to me. Every so often, I would stop and pull my mouth
away; it was during one of these times that I noticed that our combined
juices had trickled down to moisten her rosette.

When I next resumed my attentions to her mons, I also moved my hand up,
and used my thumb to begin spreading the lubrication on her anus,
rubbing it and pressing against it slightly. She not only didn't object,
but gradually began pressing herself against my thumb, her muscles there
clasping at me, as though trying to capture it.

After a bit, though, my jaw was tired enough that I changed over to
simply making a probe of my tongue, and sliding it between her labia and
into her vagina, slowly tongue-fucking her. The change surprise her, and
pleasantly so, judging by the gasp I heard when I first entered her, and
the arching of her back as she tried to get even more of me into her. I
slid my tongue back out a bit, and fluttered it a bit between her lips,
earning another gasp, before sliding it back in as far as I could reach.
Her reaction was to start slowly humping her hips toward me, fucking
herself on my tongue as I held it in place.

After perhaps a minute of this, enough of my saliva and her secretions
had found their way down the crack of her ass that there was plenty of
lubrication for me to try pressing a finger - my thumb seemed a bit
large for a first experience - into her. Groaning, she accepted it when
I pressed in a little, then withdrew, making sure that there was plenty
of our juices to ease the way - in surprisingly short order, I had a
finger completely inside her nether hole, as she continued hunching
herself up toward me, now fucking herself on my tongue and sodomizing
herself with my finger.

For as long as I could, I kept my tongue straight and solid for her, but
the effort eventually got to me, and I had to change over to something
more active - taking her erect clitoris into my mouth and sucking on it
as I softly fluttered my tongue across it. That, together with the
sensation of my finger in her ass, seemed to be enough, and after only a
couple of minutes, I could feel her clamp down on my finger, and the
fluttering of her labia as her orgasm started. After a moment, she
froze, deep into her first spasm, and I took the opportunity to begin
moving my finger in rapid in-and-out motions while applying suction to
her clitoris without actually touching it. She gave a shriek, and the
intensity of her spasms nearly doubled - I could barely move my finger
in her ass, and I could feel her labia pulsing against my lower lip. She
froze there for perhaps fifteen seconds before gasping as another,
shorter, spasm hit her. Several more followed, each only slightly less
intense, until they finally stopped. As she lowered her pelvis, my
finger started to slide out, causing a series of quivers in her until it
finally popped free.

She lay there, gasping for breath as I moved back up to lay next to her
before taking her in my arms to hold her until she'd recovered for the
intensity of the experience. Again, her youth and vitality helped her
with the process, and it wasn't long before she was able to move again.

The first thing she did was kiss me - full on the mouth, tongues dancing
- and thus getting a taste of her own womanly essence. She pulled back a
bit, smacked her lips a little, and smiled, saying "I think I can see
why you like doing that!" before moving in to kiss me again, more
chastely, and then moving on to lick the remains of her secretions from
my face.

When she finally lay back again, she smiled up at me, saying "Every time
you do something to me, it makes me feel better than the time before."

"I'm glad you liked it."

"Oh, I liked it all right! You kind of surprised me when you started
touching me, you know, back there; but it didn't hurt or anything, so I
didn't stop you. Next thing I knew, it was feeling *good*!"

"Yeah, I kinda figured that."

She giggled, and asked"Uh, does that mean I'm weird or anything? I mean,
for liking my own taste, and letting you put your finger inside me like
that?"

"Not as far as I'm concerned. Some folks - men, too, mind you! - don't
mind, or even enjoy having attention paid to them like that. I don't
much care for it, but that's just me; if you like it, then have fun, and
more power to you."

"What about liking the way I taste?"

"Kind of the same thing, only different. Some women think tasting
themselves is okay, but would rather die than find out the taste of
another woman; other women wouldn't even think about tasting themselves.
It's another one of those open-to-the-experience kind of deals: if
you're open to it, you can find out if you like it, or you don't;
otherwise, you're just pre-judging something based on nothing more than
your own prejudices, without KNOWING."

"Do all women taste like that?"

"Obviously, I can't speak for *all* women" - earning myself a mild dirty
look - "but from the ones I DO know about, the answer is 'no'. Even the
same woman will vary a little bit, depending on her diet and health and,
uh, grooming."

"What do you mean 'grooming'?"

"Well, some women grow up being taught that their vagina is somehow
dirty or nasty or bad, and don't bother practicing good sanitation and
grooming in that area. And kind of like when milk spoils, it starts to
smell and taste bad, a vagina can do the same thing."

"I wondered about that. Some of the girls at school smell really, really
bad sometimes, like when they're having their periods. I guess it's
because they aren't washing themselves the way they should."

"Perhaps so."

"Well, I've never been like that - I like feeling *clean* after I take a
bath or shower, and that just seemed like part of that feeling."

After a moment, she asked "Uh, Dan?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I, you know, like girls, too? I mean, because I tasted
myself?"

"I don't know - have you ever tasted another girl, or made love with
one?"

"No!"

"Then how can you know if you would like one, or not? If she's clean -
like you are - and she's affectionate - like you are - then I don't see
how it could hurt you any to find out. The only thing I think you should
be careful about is making sure that she's someone you can trust,
because there are still a lot of people out there that literally HATE
the idea of someone finding love, or enjoying sex, with another person
of the same sex. Plus, there's the problem of what the church would
think about it."

"Oh, I don't worry too much about that kind of stuff, other than to be
careful not to aggravate them. I mean, I'm not Catholic or anything; my
parent send me to that school cause it's real good, and a WHOLE lot
better than public school. I mean, when they tell us to pray or give
confession and all that, I do what they expect, but I don't really
*believe* in it."

"Ah! That explains a few things to me, then."

"Like what?"

"Like why you didn't give me any argument when I was talking about
religion, for starters. And like why you were so able and willing to try
being together with me, like this, for another."

"You notice a lot of things, don't you?"

"Sure. You miss too much of life if you're not paying attention to it."

She looked thoughtful at that, and we continued to rest for a bit,
before she looked up at me again, and said, "You haven't, uh, climaxed
yet, have you?"

"No, but that's not important to me right now."

"But it's important to _me_. You've made me feel so good, and I want to
do the same for you."

"Kelly, you *really* don't have to do that."

"But I WANT to - I LOVE you, now, more than before, and I want to give
back that love - freely, equally, and value for value - the way you've
given it to me."

Hoisted on my own petard. Again. When am I gonna learn to keep my big
yap shut?

"Okay, if that's the way you really feel about it" - "I do!" - "Then I
guess it's okay."

She reached down and took my flaccid penis in her hand, before looking
up at me, and asking,"Uh, what do I do?"

"You've got a couple of choices - you can use just your hand, like I did
with you that first time, or you can use your mouth on me, like I did to
you just now. Either one would be just fine."

"What would you *like*?"

"Uh, a little of both, actually."

"So how do I start?"

"Well, to use your hand, you kind of do on the outside of me what I did
to the inside of you."

"Okay. And if I want to use my mouth?"

"Pretty much the same thing, only you can think of the end of my penis
as being like your clitoris - that's where most of the nerves are, and
that's where I would get the most intense feelings."

Satisfied, she started caressing and stroking me, seeming to enjoy the
results as my penis filled with blood, and became semi-erect. Happy that
she was having the desired effect, she moved down to begin licking at
me, and caressing my testicles; before long, I was fully erect, and
enjoying her attentions tremendously.

At one point, she looked up at me in awe, and said "It's so hard inside,
but soft on the outside - and so *HOT*! Are all men this big? How do you
get that into a girl?"

"No, not all men are that big; some are bigger, some are smaller - I'm
pretty close to average, actually. As for getting it inside a woman,
that's a matter of practice and patience. A woman stretches inside, so
she can accept almost any size; what matters is that she's aroused and
excited enough that her inside lubrication - her 'wetness' - is enough
to let the mans' penis slide in without hurting her."

She thought that over for a few moments, before returning to her
ministrations to my penis - which was now quite hard, and starting to
twitch in her hand. Seeing that I'd leaked a little pre-cum onto the
tip, she paused long enough to scoop a little on her finger, and put it
in her mouth to taste it. Satisfied, she said "A *little* salty - but I
like it!" before lowering her head to take my erection into her mouth,
and running her tongue around the head. At that, and after all that I'd
been through with her so far, it was a wonder I didn't blow my load.
Fortunately, I didn't, and was able to enjoy the rest of the experience.

Seeming to take my comment about the equivalency of the head of my penis
and her clitoris seriously, she was surprisingly careful and considerate
- not once did I have to caution her about too much pressure, or her
teeth, or anything of the sort.

With all the stimulation I'd already had, it didn't take long for me to
start down the road that dead-ends at male nirvana; each time she did
something pleasurable, and I responded, she redoubled her efforts; and
because she was so open to the experience, she didn't have any
hesitation about trying new things: taking the head of my erection in
her mouth, and 'walking' her lips down it to take more of me in, until
she'd taken all she could manage. Or releasing me completely so that she
could approach it from the side, trying to wrap her lips at it from that
direction while massaging me with her tongue. Or twisting her head as
she bobbed up and down on it, stimulating places I'd almost forgotten I
had. Or taking my entire sack into her mouth, and using her tongue to
press against the underside of my penis where the sack hid it. Or
licking my entire sack, and then blowing on it, creating a sensation
that both stimulated me, and tightened me up. Or gently taking one
testicle at a time into her mouth, and ever so gently sucking on it and
rolling it around in her mouth before moving on to the other.

It was when she finally settled in to bobbing her head up and down on my
penis, while rhythmically sucking on it and using her tongue to
constantly caress the underside of the head, that I finally hit the
'home stretch', and shortly later, the point of no return. When I felt
my balls tighten up in preparation for that first shot, I hurriedly told
her "I'm going to shoot!"

When she felt the first shot of my semen start, she quickly pulled her
head back, to watch as it cannoned out the end, and landed on my chest.
Satisfied with what she'd seen, she just as quickly took me back into
her mouth, sucking firmly on the head, drawing out the second shot with
nearly as much force as the first, and all the rest of them, as well,
leaving me thoroughly drained, and VERY happy. Some of my semen had
escaped her at first, and dribbled down my member, but all the rest had
stayed in her mouth after she tightened her lips around the head. Once
she realized that I was done, and that my penis was softening, she
swallowed, and released me before starting to lick up what had escaped
her before - pausing a moment to scoop some that had dribbled down her
chin back into her mouth. Finally satisfied that she'd gotten everything
in the area, she licked me clean, and, with a twinkle in her eye, moved
up to softly lick and vacuum up the splotch on my chest from that first
shot. Content that she had it all, she lay down next to me, and draped
herself across me - one leg over mine, her breasts pressing into my
side, an arm across my chest, and her head on my shoulder.

After a couple minutes, when I'd gotten my breath back, she lifter her
head to look at me, and ask "How did I do, Teach?" with a grin on her
face.

I pretended to consider it for a bit, and answered "Hmmmm. All things
considered, I guess I really don't have any choice but to give you an
'F' " - she looked surprised and afraid - "for 'Fabulous'!" which
prompted her to poke me in the side and call me a stinker before
starting to laugh.

She lay back down next to me, and I put my arm around her, holding her
close. Looking up at the clock, I could see that we'd barely used two
hours; leaving half again that much still to us.

Contented just to be next to each other, we laid like that for several
minutes before Kelly spoke.

"Dan?"

"Yes, dear?"

"This has been really nice."

"Yes, it has."

"Were you really serious about what happens this afternoon being up to
me? I mean, I know you said it, and everything, but I just need to be
sure about something."

"Yes, I was really serious, and I really meant it. Haven't I shown you
that, yet?"

"Yeah, you have; I just needed to hear you say it one more time."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to make sure before I asked you something."

"What's that?"

"Would you, um, be my first? I mean, the first one to actually make love
to me? You know, take my virginity?"

Sure, I'd heard her say something about it last night, but I really
didn't think the two of us were going to get anywhere near that point;
at least, not yet. It was enough of a surprise that I lay there for a
bit, thinking about it.

"Dan?"

"Yes?" I answered, still a bit distracted.

"Would you?"

That brought me out of it, and I had to think for a few seconds before
answering "Kelly, I'm genuinely honored that you would ask me. I'm not
going to insult you by asking if you're sure, because I know you well
enough now that I know you wouldn't ask me if you weren't. It's just
that it's a serious thing to ask, and I'm not sure that I want the
responsibility of making your first time as pleasant and comfortable as
it *should* be."

She answered by saying "I know that it is, from the way you've talked to
me, and even Jan, about it. I know you think there *might* be somebody
else out there that would be more gentle and careful than you, but *I*
don't think I'd find that person - at least, not before I was too old to
enjoy it. Dan, I *trust* you. I *know* that you would be as patient and
considerate and all that as anyone I could ever hope to find. There's
all kinds of guys out there that would be more than happy to 'pop my
cherry'; but I don't WANT it 'popped' - I want someone that will
_remove_ it, gently, with love and affection and concern for ME while
they do it. I don't want somebody 'like' you; I want it to BE you. Maybe
it won't hurt; but if it does, than I know that if YOU did it, you'd
make the pain as small as ANYONE could - and then you'd make me as
happy, and satisfied, as anyone could, too."

At the end of that, I could feel her hot tears as they rolled down my
side. Talk about 'feeling like crap' - I did, and big time.

After a few moments, I was finally able to say "Kelly, if you're *that*
sure you want to do this, and if you're *that* sure that you want it to
be _now_, and *that* sure you want it to be _me_, then I can't find it
in myself to deny you and disappoint you. If you want me to be your
first, then I'll do it - and do my best to make it a HAPPY memory."

It took a bit for what I'd said to sink in, but when it did, she gasped,
and raised herself up on her elbow, to look at me before asking "You
will?"

I sighed, and answered, "Yes, since you're THAT sure you want me to. I
can only hope that you don't regret it, after."

She smiled at me, sniffled a little, and said, "I really am that sure -
not just that I want it to be you, and now, but that I'm not going to
regret it, either."

I smiled back, and reassured, she lay back next to me, giving me a hug
every little bit.

A couple minutes went by, and she slid her hand down to start playing
with my pubic hair, before asking, "So, um, how do we start? Do you have
a condom or anything that you need to put on or use or whatever?"

I answered by telling her "We start pretty much the same was as we have
before; we just don't let it stop where it has until now. As for not
making you pregnant, that's something *I* don't have to worry about."

Laughing at the expression on her face when she looked up at me, I
continued "Several years ago, I decided that I wanted a vasectomy, so
that I wouldn't have any unwanted children. So, my tubes have been cut,
and all I fire now are 'blanks', so to speak."

She gave me a dirty look for jerking her chain, and asked "What happens
if you DO decide that you want children, then?"

"Then I go back to the doctor I visited, and the woman and I use one of
the several samples I left before the operation. The doctor said I have
real good little swimmers, and that he didn't think there would be any
problems making a baby with any one of the samples I left."

Satisfied with the answer, she gave me a wicked grin, and moved up to
start kissing my chest, and even giving my nipples the occasional lick
and suck as her playing with my pubic hair expanded to include my penis,
too. Before long, I'd become semi-erect, and she apparently decided that
more effective measures were called for - and slowly changed position so
that her head was even with my penis, and her ass was pointed back at
me. When she finally took me into her mouth, I reached out a