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 Chapter Seven

   The outings into the evening air became a daily event.  Ronni rolled me
out into the shade of the big tree in my front yard and left me there
talking with my old next door neighbor.  Yeah, the one that asked "Are you
one a'those GAY people?"

   My broken leg gave him avenue to recount his trials with a hip and knee
replacement, a story familiar to me, told to me previously in bits and
pieces, but he was a nice old guy and his wife was also a nice person, so I
listened patiently.  His missus came out to visit us under the shade,
bringing two glasses of the kind of home-made lemonade that evoked the
happy memories of the kind of summers that my dad and grand-dad dreamed of.

   Mister Bailey and I sat in the shade, chatting, enjoying the sounds of a
couple of off-cycle cicadas buzzing, not doubt wondering where their crowd
was.  He spotted Ronni going to her mom's car to retrieve something.

   "Little Roni sure has grown up, ain't she?" he said.

   "Yes, she has, Mister Bailey.  Trophy-grade kid, there."

   "Mmm-huh," he mused.  "Not like that young turd that liked to a'killed
you.  I see her at your house all the time since you got hurt."

   "Uh-huh.  She's helping me out.  I can't do a damned thing by myself. 
Nurse comes in every day and changes bandages and checks on me.  Roni takes
care of feeding me and everything else."

   "She don't act like one a'them kids that wants to dress up like, you
know, all flashy like they do.  Pretty level-headed.  Man's gonna get a
good one with her."

   Ronni walked up.  "Hi, Mister Bailey!  Hi, Dave."

   Mister Bailey might be old, but he wasn't slow.  His eyes widened just
about the time Ronni's hand touched my shoulder.

   "He's not 'Mister Dave' any more, Miss Ronni?"

   Ronni smiled, opened the bag, and dragged the squalling cat out.  "No
sir.  Not since we decided to get married."

   "No joke?" he said.  A smile started its way across his wrinkled face.
"Martha!" he shouted.  "Come here, will ya?"

   Martha was tending flowers in their front yard.  She came over. 
"Whatever are you shouting about, dear?"

   "Mister Dave an' Mizz Ronni are getting married.  What'd'ya think about
that?" He was smiling now.

   She mirrored her husband's smile.  "What would you expect me to think
about two good people deciding to get married, George?" She took Ronni's
hand.  "Baby, Mister Dave's been a very good neighbor for ten years, and
we've know you since you were two.  We're very happy for you."

   Ronni smiled.  The Baileys were the first people outside our families to
hear our news.

   "Come with me, Miss Ronni," Martha said.  "Let's get our men some more
lemonade.  And I think I have, no, cookies don't go with lemonade.  Let's
see what we have for our own little celebration."

   The two departed.  Mister Bailey looked at me.  "Dave, you're my son's
age.  What?  Forty, maybe?"

   "Yessir," I said.

   "Miss Ronni's graduating next year, so she's..."

   "Seventeen," I answered.

   "Bit of difference, ain't it?" he mused.

   "I know," I said.  "We talked about it.  She's, like you said,
level-headed.  Not no little ball of fluff airhead."

   "Yeah, she ain't had that stream of young guys runnin' up her driveway.
Seems like a decent young lady."

   "Mister George, exactly what business would I have with an indecent
young lady?" I tried to defuse what I saw as a possibly bad situation.

   "Yeah, son, I notice that YOU don't have a bunch of women running in an'
out of YOUR house, either.  You're home most weekends.  You're not out
chasin' skirts." He laughed, "Or whatever's in 'em."

   "I'm old-fashioned about that stuff, Mister George," I said.

   "And she's a genuinely sweet girl, Dave.  Not exactly the kind of arm
candy, is that what they call it?"

   "No, not arm candy, Mister George.  She does my head and my heart good,
and you know what, if those things are right, the eye sees..." I saw Mizz
Martha approaching with a tray.  "That!" And plain Ronni?  She looked
beautiful.  Carrying two more chairs.

   The four of us sat there in the early evening stillness, sipping
lemonade and eating cheese and crackers.

   Mizz Martha asked, "So when are you getting married?"

   Ronni smiled demurely.  "As soon as Dave can walk.  Doctor says four
weeks."

   Mister George picked up the interrogation.  "One a'them big church
weddings?"

   "Oh, heavens, no!" Ronni said.  "I wouldn't do that to Mom and Dad. 
Makes no sense.  And Dave could afford it, but why?" She smiled.  "We're
going to get our preacher to do the vows with us in our back yard with our
families and friends.  You know ya'll are invited."

   Mizz Martha smiled too.  "Me an' George got married in an army chapel in
Georgia.  Mom and Dad and my sister and a bunch of guys from his unit.  I
guess it stuck." She touched George's shoulder.  "What's the last one? 
Forty-two years?"

   "Yes it has.  Hadn't always been roses, but life ain't like that
anyways. But two people together, they can put up with a lot of life." He
patted Ronni.  "Miss Ronni, I watched you learnin' to ride a bike.  Your
momma an' daddy are good people.  What do they say about this?  You've told
them, I guess, if you're planning on getting married at home."

   Ronni smiled.  "Dave asked Dad and Mom.  They're okay with it.  Well,
Mom's... they're BOTH happy." She looked at Mister George.  "I know what
some folks'll say, but we don't have to get married, you know, like in
'Momma, I'm pregnant.' It's not like that at all."

   "That's good to know, baby, but it's not anybody's business," Martha
said.  "Besides, people don't get married for that much, any more.  Not
according to what I see in the papers."

   "No," I said, "but when some people see me with Little Miss Ronni,
that's what they'll figure anyway."

   "Awwww, let'em talk, son," Mister George said.  "They gonna do that
anyways.  Me an' my sweetie, we're glad for ya."

   "Thank you both.  Makes me feel like my own Mom and Dad were here to
enjoy the news." It was.  Mom was ten years gone, Dad seven, and I missed
them both.  George and Martha were like a second set of adopted parents.

   He smiled.  "An' at least you're Dave an' Ronni.  Won't catch any crap
because you're 'George and Martha', like WE did."

   I laughed.  "Yessir, I thought that was rather amusing the first time we
met."

   Martha chuckled.  "We actually got introduced as 'the Washingtons' once
at a church social when the pastor got all flustered."

   George said, "Yeah I remember THAT.  And he got REALLY flustered when he
realized what he'd just said."

   In the waning light, Alex, Ronni's dad walked up.

   "Hi, Dad," Ronni said, seeing him before Martha and George did.

   "Hey, baby," he answered.  "Hi, Mizz Martha.  Mister George.  Did she
tell you?"

   George laughed.  "Your new son in law?"

   "Yeah," Alex laughed.  "his pants fit, he wears his hat right, he's got
a job..."

   "He's got tools you can borrow," Ronni laughed.

   Alex gave a little more information.  "It was probably a bigger surprise
to Dave than it was to me an' Rena.  Ronni's been after Dave for a while."

   "Oh," Ronni said, "When I was ten an' Dave's wife left, I wanted to be
his wife so he wouldn't be all sad an' lonesome."

   "That's so sweet," Martha said.  "And now look how I turned out."

   Ronni said, "Yeah, over the years I found out that I had feelings that I
could be serious about concerning Dave." She smiled.  "He hung around my
life for a bunch years.  He was always very nice, took care of me when dad
was on the road and helped us around the house."

   I said, "I was just doing the things that neighbors are supposed to do
for each other.  Ronni started out as the cute little kid next door."

   Ronni interrupted, "Dave, I'm not cute."

   I smiled, "I get to say you're cute now.  You just don't look like
everybody else's definition sometimes." I sighed.  "People can be terribly
wrong about things and everybody doesn't have to like the same thing and if
a guy wants to think that the girl he loves is beautiful, he gets to do
that."

   Mr.  George said, "I've always thought you were a cute girl, too."

   Ms.  Martha said, "You old goat, your eyes are so bad you don't know
what's cute and what's not."

   Mr.  George laughed.  "I know enough to think that you might be old but
you still make me very happy, wrinkles and all." He reached out and touched
her hand.

   Ronni smiled.  "You know, when I see you two, and I see my parents, it
gives me a lot of hope about marriage.  I know a lot of it is picking the
right partner.  But a lot of it is deciding that marriage is forever an'
that you're gonna stay married, even if things aren't so good sometimes. 
I've known Dave for 10 years.  But we haven't lived together and I know
that there are going to be things that we argue about.  But it's marriage
and that means it's supposed to be forever."

   I patted Ronni's hand.  "Maybe, this time I picked the right one.  I
mean, we stand together in front of our friends and in front of God and we
say it's gonna be forever but it boils down to you and me and, like you, I
look at your mom and dad and Mr.  George and Ms.  Martha and I know that it
can work for people.  And Ron, you're my hope for the future."

   Our old friends smiled.  "Yeah," George said, "we've seen a lot of
marriages break up and we've seen a lot of them stay together too.  I wish
I knew what the key was so I can sell it to people but I think you two are
off to a good start."

   Alex said, "I didn't know I was being an example all those years." He
snickered.  "I just thought that Rena was like the perfect person and how
lucky I was to have her decide that I was the one she wanted to be with."

   And if it was my turn to laugh, it was because Alex and Rena just seemed
natural together.  "Sometimes people do their best when they don't think
anybody's watching."

   Ronni smiled.  "I've been watching all my life.  I have a lot of friends
that have divorced parents and some of them been divorced more than once or
twice.  Me, with the same parents I started with, I'm kind of a rarity."

   "That's a sad thing," Mr.  George said.  "People used to understand that
till death do us part."

   It was starting to get dark.  Alex said, "Rena's got dinner ready
whenever you two are ready-to-eat."

   Ms.  Martha said, "Yes it is getting dark and it's time for dinner. 
This is when we find out exactly how patient Georgie is.  We're having
leftovers."

   I laughed.  "Ms.  Martha, I've had your leftovers and there's a lot of
people who would be happy to have them every day of the week."

   It was George's turn to laugh.  "Yeah that would be fine for some folks
but I'm kind of spoiled."

   Ms.  Martha picked up the tray and lemonade glasses and Mr.  George took
their two chairs and headed back to their yard.

   Alex relieve Ronni of the duty of wheeling me back to the house.  She
followed along dutifully.

   "Ron, why don't you go get your plates from your mom?" Alex said.

   "That was an interesting conversation," I said.  "They really are a nice
old couple.  I guess they've been together so long that they think alike."

   Alex laughed.  "Yeah, they have been together, what, 40 years?" He
breathed heavily pushing me up the ramp.  "But me and Rena, it's 18 years
for us.  And when I look at Ronni, I think, 'you know, we did pretty good.'
And she's a good kid.  Dave I think she'll be a good wife." He sighed. 
"You know, the only thing that I see is a downside is that whole kid
thing."

   "Kid thing?"

   "Yeah," he said, "I know you had a vasectomy.  I know it's not important
right now, and I know if I asked Ronni she'd say it wasn't important right
now.  But that's right now.  Me and Rena have talked about this.  I'm not
saying that Rena is the grandma type but I know that's in her head.  To be
quite honest I kind of think about it too."

   I sighed.  "I know, Alex.  We talked about that, first thing.  She
doesn't seem to have a problem with it.  But I know that sometimes mommy
genes take over.  We talked about adoption.  But you and I know that
sometimes women just want to have their own babies.  Me, I'm just happy to
have Ronni.  But you know, I'm thinking about the reversal.  I know now
that there is a pretty good chance of success."

   "I've heard about the reversal," said Alex.  "I'm not saying that's what
needs to be done right now.  I'm just saying that it's something you might
want to think about."

   "You know, Alex," I said, "I want to do what makes Ronni happy.  I'm 40.
Having one again at this age, or in a couple years isn't that big a deal to
me but we need to make that decision." I sighed.  "Let's just see what
happens."

   I was in the house now and Alex held the chair while I swung to my
recliner.  The door opened and Ronni and Rena came in bearing a tray with
two plates.

   Ronnie headed to the kitchen.  "Coke?"

   "Yeah," I said.  "That'd be nice."

   I heard kitchen noises and Ronni came back with two drinks.  She set up
my customary TV tray and moved our plates to it.  She pulled a chair up so
she could eat and help feed me.  I was starting to regain use of my left
arm so I didn't need as much help.  Ronnie, though, wanted to make sure
that I was okay.  Rena and Alex sat on the sofa close to one another.

   "You're going to the doctor again tomorrow aren't you?" asked Rena.

   "Yes," I said, "10 in the morning."

   Alex asked, "any idea what they're going to do this time?"

   "I hope they're gonna put me in a walking cast.  I'm tired of the
wheelchair.  I think I want crutches." I looked at Ronni.  "Ronnie's been a
jewel.  You guys work yourselves to death helping me.  But I'm tired of
being so dependent."

   Rena said, "We're just being good neighbors.  Look at all the times
you've helped us out."

   "Yeah, but I ended up with Ronni," I smiled.  "I'd have to be your slave
for life."

   "Nuh-uh," Ronni said.  "They ought'a pay you for taking me off their
hands." Giggle.

   "Okay then," I laughed, "we can call that a wash.  You guys still helped
me when I needed it."

   Alex laughed.  "Just being good neighbors Dave."

   Ronni finished her dinner and helped me put the finishing touches on
mine.  "Mom, I'll wash the dishes and bring 'em over in the morning." She
smiled.

   "Okay." Rena looked at Alex, then me, then Ronni.  "So you're gonna stay
over here and help... Dave?"

   Ronnie had an enigmatic smile.  She looked at me, then her parents. 
"Yes, Mom, Dave still can't get out of bed by himself.  He needs somebody.
That's me."

   Alex looked at his teenage daughter then me, his prospective son-in-law.
"You two will be all right.  Come on, Rena." He stood up, Rena stood up
beside him, and Ronni hugged her parents, kissing her dad on the cheek.

   "Dad, you know I love you and Mom.  I need to take care of Dave."

   Alex glanced at me with a smile on his face.  "Yeah, take care Dave. 
We'll see you in the morning.  Dave I'll be driving you to to the doctor's
office."

   "I appreciate that, Alex." I smiled.

   They closed the door behind them and Ronni locked it.  She turned to me,
smiling.  "Sweetie, we've had quite a day."

   "Yeah, news is out now.  We told Mr.  George and Ms.  Martha.  We didn't
tell them not to tell anybody else so that's like putting it in the paper.
Will be the biggest story on the block since the truck hit me."

   Ronni giggled.  "Yep.  You'll be the old child molester."

   "I hope not," I said, "Mr.  George and Ms.  Martha seemed to accept it
pretty well.  I can only hope the rest of the neighborhood does."

   "Uh-huh," Ronni admitted.  "They did take it well.  They're a nice
couple.  I was telling the truth.  They are a great example.  But people
are funny.  Some people are gonna take it like Martha and George.  But I'm
afraid that some people are gonna look at it and take it wrong." Her brow
knit.  "We're not doing anything wrong, you know."

   "I know," I said.  "But it's that age thing, baby.  Some people have
trouble looking past the external things.  I'm 40, you are 17.  That's got
exploitation written all over it, IF you want to dwell on things like that.
If that's what you want to believe.  Some people walk around all day
looking to find things wrong.  I know it's a crazy messed up world, but
don't you think it's better to want to see if people do good things?"

   "I know that, and you know that," she sighed, "but like a wise friend
used to tell me, 'that's not the way to bet'," she smiled.

   I snickered.  "I need to remember that you pay attention when I talk."

   "I've paid attention to you for years," she smiled.  "Would it be so
terrible if I tried to sit in your lap?"

   "I think that would be a wonderful idea.  I've watched you all day and
all I got to do was hold your hand and touch you.  You've got to know,
Ronni," I said, "I've wanted to put my arms around you and kiss you, just
because you're cute and smart and happy, and I love you."

   She eased into my lap, turned, and put her arms around my neck.  I got
the kisses I'd been waiting for.  And a few more that apparently I needed
for right now.  She rested against me, her cheek against my shoulder.  I
turned my head slightly and kissed her on top of her shiny brown head.  She
hadn't showered since last night, but she still smelled clean and, oh so
desirable.

   "We're gonna need to bathe you," she tittered.  "I guess that means I
have to take all your clothes off," she said smiling.

   "As long as you don't take advantage of the situation," I said.

   She giggled.  "I shall try to restrain myself."

   "See that you do."

   "Uh-huh." She stuck her tongue out at me.  She helped me into my
wheelchair, and wheeled me to the bed.  With her help I moved onto the bed.
She began to unbutton my pajamas and take them off of me.  When she peeled
off the old pajamas she sailed them towards the laundry hamper.  "Now roll
over so I can put some towels down."

   I dutifully complied.  For my efforts I got a slap on the ass.  "See,
you're taking advantage."

   Giggle.  "I'm gonna show you how to take advantage of somebody!" She
giggled again.  "Now don't go away.  I'll be right back." She went into the
bathroom.  I heard the water running and she came back with her tub of warm
water, a wash cloth and more towels.

   She had her act together with bathing me in bed, and since we began
playing with each other, she wasn't bashful about seeing me or bathing
around my crotch.  As a matter of fact, I think she took a little bit more
care with cleaning things down there.  Don't get me wrong, that's not a
complaint.

   After she finished bathing me, she looked at me, smiled, and asked,
"Now, should I dress you, or leave you like that?"

   "Oh, no!  I fear that if you leave me like this, somebody may take
advantage of me!" I grinned.

   Her eyes twinkled.  "Do you think we have like half an hour before you
get molested?" Giggle.

   I enjoyed playing with her.  "I think I'm safe for half an hour.  Past
that, I'm afraid that I may be molested.  Worse than that, I may be
required to perform sexual acts."

   "I can just about guarantee that," she smiled.  "I'm gonna go take a
shower now.  I'll be back.  And I'll make sure that you get taken care of."
She bent over me and kissed me and her hands roamed over my body and my
hands roamed over as much of hers as I could reach.

   I heard the water running in the bathroom, then the hairdryer, and then
she walked out completely nude, smiling.

   "Oh my," she giggled, "you're just laying there naked.  Somebody may
molest you." Very deliberately she crawled over me, being careful because
my ribs were still sore, and my left leg was still in a cast.  However, she
stopped halfway and lowered her chest to touch mine, kissing me, and
letting me get my arms around her.  I relished the sweet smell, freshly
showered, freshly shampooed, with a tasteful hint of perfume.

   "Oh, my!  That's very close to molestation!" I laughed.  "You may have
to do that again so I can make sure."

   She snuggled against my right side, tossing a long firm leg over mine.
Her left hand roamed, caressing me, my face, my chest, and then trailed
downward and grasped me.  I was already hard but her touch added another
dimension.  She purred.

   With my right hand I caressed her head, my fingers teasing her short
brown hair.  I put my hand behind her head, nudging her towards a kiss. 
She correctly read my intentions, crawled upward and over me slightly, and
our mouths met.  She drew her face back slightly looking into my eyes.

   "Do you think..." Her eyes were soft, questioning.

   "What do you have in mind, little one?" I asked.

   "Your mouth... Your tongue..." She had an uncharacteristic shy smile.

   "Sweetness, I would love to.  You have to know that I love that.  You
excite me in ways that I can't begin to describe."

   She smiled and started to move herself upward.  As her firm young
titties moved past my face, I captured a nipple in my mouth teasing it with
my tongue and teeth.  She drew a breath in sharply, "Oh my God," she
hissed. "You just reminded me how good something else feels."

   "Mmmmmm," I said.  "Delightful." I moved to the other one and repeated
the action.  She quivered.  Finally she pulled free and carefully straddled
my chest.  That put her freshly shaved pubic mound in front of my mouth.  I
moved my lips over it, savoring its smooth firmness.  I opened my mouth
wide, sucked her flesh into it, into my mouth, teased it lightly with my
teeth.

   This got me soft moans.  I moved a little lower, the tip of my tongue
teasing the moist beginning of her slit.  This reminded her of her original
goal.  She straightened up, bringing her aroused pussy to my mouth.  I let
my tongue savor the juices that covered her lips before allowing the tip to
dip in between them.  I covered her pussy with my mouth as much as I could,
sucking lightly, my tongue gathering the tasty juices.  She was shaking. 
One hand was holding onto the headboard, trying to support her weight
without hurting me, the other was on the back of my head encouraging me.

   I did my best.  We hadn't a lot of experience together but I was
beginning to understand how her body worked.  I regretted not having full
mobility to do the explorations, but what I discovered with my tongue was
sufficient for now.  I flicked and teased, keeping a light suction, trying
to read the motions of her body.  Her breath came in sharp gasps.  I loved
the way she responded.  I didn't have much hair to grasp but her fingers
worked on the back of my head pushing me into her.  I was happy with what
was in front of me as I teased them and licked my little doll to orgasm.

   When she crossed her threshold, her whole body shook, she made little
mewing sounds, signaling me to slow my efforts.  I stopped using my tongue
on her clit.  Finally her shaking stopped.  Tentatively I moved my tongue
back to touch the little pink pea.

   "Oh God yes," she hissed.  "Yes!  One more!"

   "Mmmmm!" I moaned.  I loved the way she felt.  I loved the way she
acted. She was so enthusiastic and responsive and innocent.  She wanted one
more.  I was very happy to comply.  My rewards were many.  I savored her
juices.  I enjoyed feeling her motions, her hips bucking against me as I
licked her.  Finally she went over the edge for the second time.  This time
she slid down off of me and lay beside me, wrapped in my right arm.

   "Dave, if it feels much better, I just may die!"

   "Sweetie, I love making you feel good."

   She nestled her face against my chest.  "Mmmmmm!  I never imagined
anything could feel like this, baby," she purred.  "You know, I hear other
girls talkin', and I hear the stories, and some of 'em were drunk and some
of 'em were high, and a lot of 'em, you know, I don't think they really
enjoy it that much.  A lot of them do it just because that's what their
boyfriend wants to do." She let out a long sigh.  Her face turned and her
eyes connected with mine.  "Dave, I really do enjoy it.  I get the idea
from Mom that you're supposed to enjoy it."

   "Well, baby, we have the capacity to enjoy this." I wasn't trying to
sound clinical, but my new young partner had questions.  "Yeah, I think
we're supposed to enjoy it.  What reason would we have NOT to enjoy it?  I
mean, we got all these neat pieces.  It feels so good when we each use one
with the other."

   Giggle.  "I know," she said, with a long sigh.  "I learned that that
little bit of me felt real good a few years ago.  I mean, I didn't do it
every night, but you know, it felt good." She gave a little titter.  "I'm
not gonna tell you what I thought about sometimes.  Or rather, WHO I
thought about.  But, you know, it felt good.  An' I knew that when I had a
partner, that little part would be part of feeling good together." She
looked at me with those brown eyes.  "Am I boring you?  I don't mean to
bore you."

   "There's no way that you're boring me, baby doll," I said.  "That makes
me kind of excited to know that you thought about me."

   "Well, I know I wasn't supposed to," she admitted, "but you know, Dave,
I can't help how I feel."

   "Well, while we're doing true confessions," I admitted, "you came up in
my mind more times than I want to admit, baby." I looked at her eyes.  I
was afraid I would see a shift, something that changed me in her mind from
friend and lover to creepy old guy.  Thankfully I didn't see that.  Instead
I saw a twinkle.

   "Dave," she said, "you gotta know that I wanted you to think about me
like that, too.  I mean, the last couple or three years, you know, when I
started understanding past girlfriends and boyfriends holding hands on the
playground, and started understanding about physical relationships, I knew
about physical attraction, and I saw pretty girls and how guys acted around
them, and then when you and me would be together on the road after an
event, an' you didn't show any of those signs, I thought maybe I was not
attractive enough."

   "Oh, no baby," I said softly.  "The real attraction starts inside a
person's head anyway.  That is if they've got their head screwed on
straight.  But don't even go there.  You're quite the delight to look at.
Yeah, I know, you're not the conventional beauty, blah, blah, blah.  But
you don't have to be.  You are you!  You're in no way unattractive.  Just
because you don't look like a swimsuit model bothers me not in the least. I
find you quite attractive.  You've always been cute in ways that I can't
catalog.  Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be.  Maybe inside my heart
there's a Ronni-shaped space.  I don't know.  Seeing you has always made me
smile." I continued, "But that doesn't matter, you were a teenager, I was
an adult, you were my friend, you are the daughter of my best friends, and
I wasn't supposed to be having those thoughts about you.  So when I did, I
just felt guilty.  And then we'd go somewhere, or I'd see you in the yard
and you'd be all cute and sweet and innocent, and I feel all guilty about
it.  I just pushed it into the back of my mind and go back to being your
friend and trying to keep from admitting to myself that I was becoming more
and more attracted to you.  For heaven's sake, you were a teenager, and why
in the world would you be interested in an old guy like me."

   "Shakespeare should've written something like this," she said.  "I hate
to say this, Dave, but I'm glad you got hit by a truck.  Honestly, I don't
know if I could have worked up the courage to come out and tell you.  When
I saw you hurt, I couldn't contain it and I had to admit it.  And I was
still scared."

   "I know, sweetness," I said softly.  "And exactly how was I going to
tell you?  Do you know how much risk that would be?  For me to admit that I
was in love with a 17-year-old girl that I was supposed to be taking care
of and being a friend to and just being around?  I mean, there was a huge
chance that your eyes would go wide open, you would scream, and think I was
some kind of creepy old molester."

   "I know, Dave," she said.  "But we ended up together and that's what
counts.  And even better your family and my family are okay with it.  You
know, a lot of people go into relationships with a whole lot less going for
them than we have ." She kissed me.  Well, she kissed me, and then I kissed
her, and then we kissed each other.

   Her right hand traced down the center of my chest, down my stomach, and
her fingers curled around my dick.  Her eyes sparkled.  "I remember now.  I
was talking about how good some parts of me felt.  And I didn't get to
finish."

   "You didn't finish talking?"

   "No, sweetheart, I told you how I found out that I could make me feel
good, but I meant to tell you that you and me, well, it's, like, a million
times better.  I mean that solo thing I guess is okay, but I think it's
meant for me and you.  It just works so much better.  At least it does for
me." She looked at me grinning.  Her hand stroked me.  "And you?"

   "Ronni, you make me leave this universe.  Next to you, my wildest
imagination just shows me that my imagination didn't go far enough."

   "You know you don't have to say that, Dave.  I know you were married.  I
know you've been with other women.  I mean, I don't know anything."

   "Baby, what's to know?  You started off doing things inside my head. 
And the things you do to the outside of me are wonderful, and when you add
the two together, the feelings are past explanation." I stroked her cheek
with the back of my fingers, loving her face, savoring her eyes.

   "But, Dave," she said, "there's a lot of stuff I don't know.  I don't
wanna be a disappointment."

   "Ronni, my dearest little one, it is a complete impossibility for you to
be any kind of a disappointment to me.  And as far as anything in my life
before you came along, it all disappeared with the first kiss."

   The smile came back to her face, showing that her confidence was
restored.  We kissed for some minutes, but all the time that we kissed her
hand was exploring, her fingers tantalizing the underside of my scrotum,
teasing.  She noticed this.  As our lips parted her eyes were crinkled in a
smile.  "You know that part I said about how parts of me feel real good?"
Giggle.  "Is this one of those parts on you?"

   "Baby, you know it is!"

   She slid down my torso, her mouth stopping at my nipple.  She turned her
eyes towards me with a mischievous grin.  Her tongue flickered out, teasing
my nipple.  I shuddered.

   "You little thing!  You know what that does!"

   "As a matter of fact, yes I do!" She giggled.  "And there's something
else, too.  When I do this..." Her tongue teased my nipple, "this..." She
squeezed my dick, "gets all wiggly." She teased my nipple several times,
timing her tongue with strokes on my shaft.

   "Little girl, if you keep doing that, we're gonna have spots on the
ceiling!"

   "Well, since it's gonna be my house too, I don't think I want spots on
the ceiling." She grinned lasciviously.  "We'll just have to do something
to stop that."

   She slid further down my torso and I sucked in a breath expectantly.  It
was with good reason as her lips closed over the head of my dick, I moaned.
She purred with me trapped inside her mouth, the vibrations coursing
through my body.

   "Dave, that's another thing I heard the girls talkin' about.  A lot of
them didn't like this.  Just like the other thing, they did it because
their boyfriends wanted it." She looked up at me with a smile.  She licked
her lips.  "I really like it.  Seriously.  I really like it.  You know how
you make me feel good with your mouth.  I think when I do this to you, it's
wonderful that I have that to give to you." And another little giggle. 
"And I kinda have some control over you, too." Her head bobbed back down
pulling me to ecstasy.

   My right hand stroked that sassy brown hair.  I wasn't pushing her to do
anything.  I didn't need to.  She was doing what she wanted to do for
whatever the reasons and I was just happy that she was doing it.  Touching
her head was just another tactile input.  I really did adore her and not
because she was sucking me inside out.  I could feel the sensations
building.  Her right hand was cupping my scrotum.  Her head popped off my
dick and she said, "You know, I could feel things changing when I do this.
It's fun!  I love it." Her head bobbed back down, her lips tongue and teeth
working on me, and I was approaching the edge of the abyss.

   "Oh God baby, I'm getting close."

   "I know," she said, and went back to sucking me.  She enclosed my
scrotum, gently squeezing and tugging, her teeth lightly biting my shaft as
her head bobbed up and down.

   That was it!  I tried not to shove into her mouth, and wisely she had
her left hand circling my shaft in case I did.  I shoved.  The first squirt
erupted into her mouth.  I felt her tongue moving as she swallowed, a moan
resonating through me.  Her hand squeezed and milked as the second squirt
left me.  That got me a little giggle.  The third and fourth, and then a
steady stream of fire as my orgasm ran its course.  She kept sucking and
squeezing and milking, pulling me through a whole range of ecstasy.

   Finally I started to soften.  When this happened she moved her left hand
and slid my entire softening dick into her mouth.  I was drained.  She
moved up beside me, her eyes gleaming, a big smile on her face, and she
kissed me.  It wasn't a demure little kiss either, it was full; her tongue
brushed my lips, and I parted them.  In the kiss that followed, I could
taste remnants of myself.  That didn't stop me.  That didn't stop us.  It
was us.  We loved each other.

   We stayed in each other's arms for some minutes.  I don't know if she
just instinctively recognized the feelings that were going through me after
my orgasm but she cuddled up to me, caressing me, kissing me, and making me
feel loved and cared for in a way I'd never imagined.  Finally she said, "I
guess we need to get some clothes on so we can sleep good."

   Lethargically I answered, "As much as I hate for us to move, baby, I
guess so." I kind of felt bad that I couldn't help her, but I was still at
the stage where I couldn't get out of bed by myself.  She retrieved a clean
set of pajamas for me, and that silly nightshirt for herself.

   It was another one of my little pleasures that I watched her pull that
nightshirt over her sweet naked form.  When she pulled it down over her
head she saw me staring.  She giggled.  "I'm sure glad I was here to keep
you from being molested," she said.

   "Yeah," I said, "it would've been horrible if I'd been molested."

   She made a pass through the house, turning off lights and checking
doors. When she came back in the bedroom, the cat followed her, knowing
that the bed was now a peaceful place again.  He curled up at the foot of
the bed, and Ronnie curled up beside me.

   "And that oughtta make you sleep good," she giggled.

   "And you too, baby doll," I said.  Together we drifted off to sleep.