Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The next day I walked into the park office to find Helen and Cindy
chatting. I waved a set of keys at her.  "It's time," I said.

   "Time for what?" she asked with a puzzled look.

   "Time for you and me to go fire up the Starship Enterprise.  Or a 1968
model Cessna airplane.  Something like that."

   Squeal.  Hug.

   "What?" asked Helen.

   "Mechanic called me today.  He finished the inspection on my airplane
and it's ready to fly again."

   "Oh, yeah.  You told me you had a plane over there." "There" being the
local airport.

   "Yeah, and Miss Cindy is getting ready to make her first, and if she
pukes all over the place, her ONLY flight in it." I looked at Cindy.  "Go
get some jeans on.  This ain't a "skirt" kind of airplane, baby!"

   Half an hour later we pulled the truck up next to an open hangar at the
little country airport.  There was another truck there, the mechanic's.  We
shook hands.  "John Randolph," I said, "meet Cindy Smith.  I tutor her in
math, and I promised her a ride if she brought her grades up."

   He smiled.  Most people, and 99.9% of men, smile when they meet Cindy.
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Cindy.  You don't have to worry.  The wings
won't fall off.  He might fly into a pine tree, but the wings will be there
when he does."

   Cindy grinned.  "Thank you, Mister John.  I'm thinkin' it's worth a
risk. My first time in an airplane.  Ever."

   John turned to me.  "Dan," he said, "everything checks out.  You're good
for a year." He handed me the plane's logbook.  I gave him a check.  "Call
me if you need anything.  Okay?"

   "You bet, John," I said.  "Thanks!"

   "Want me to help you pull her out?" He asked.

   "Yeah, sure."

   We pushed the plane out of the hangar onto the concrete apron.  I
watched, Cindy by my side, as John drove off.

   "Now what?" asked Cindy.

   "We do a ritual.  It's called a "pre-flight inspection" and you do it
EVERY time you get ready to fly."

   I did the walk-around with Cindy at my side asking questions every step
of the way.  Finally I had her open the passenger side door and take a step
on the tire, another on the step, and finally into the cockpit.

   The last step got me a comment.  "Yeah, I think a skirt would have been
a little bit revealing." She smiled.

   I showed her how to buckle her harness, and then I climbed into the
pilot's seat.  "Here," I said, handing her a huge pair of headphones with
an attached microphone.  "Put these on so we can talk to each other without
hollering.  This old thing's loud." I showed her exactly how loud when I
started the engine.  We completed the ritual and taxied to the runway.

   I looked at her.  "Are you ready?" I asked.

   She shook her head in the affirmative, grinning broadly.

   "Okay.  There's a barf bag in the glove box if you need it."

   "No way!" she said.  "I'm excited.  Let's do this!"

   "Okay," I said.  "Here goes!" I pushed the throttle forward and we took
off.  Once we were out of the local pattern, I said, "Okay, now put your
feet on those pedals and your hands on the yoke."

   She looked at me almost incredulous.  "Like, I'm gonna FLY this?"

   "Yeah.  Watch!" I took my hands off the control yoke.  "It'll almost fly
itself, so don't be scared."

   Her eyes were wide.  So was her grin.  We flew around with me coaching
her through turns and climbs and glides and toured the area, overflying the
RV park and her school.  Finally I said, "Okay.  I don't know about you,
but I'm getting hungry."

   "Oh, no, Dan!  I could do this forever."

   "We'll see about that.  This old thing is burning fifty bucks worth of
gas an hour.  We've been up an hour.  And I'm hungry!"

   "Okay..." She took her hands off the yoke.

   "Oh, no, little girl.  You're still flying." I crossed my arms.

   "Eek!" she squealed, grabbing the yoke.  We did a quick little porpoise
move as her untrained hands wiggled the yoke in and out.

   I put my hands back on my yoke and went along as I talked her through
navigating back to the airfield and setting up in the traffic pattern, then
had her fly along with me as we landed.  We taxied back to the hangar and
she and I pushed the old plane back into its shelter.

   We got back in the truck.  "Wow!" she said.  "Just HOLY WOW!"

   "You liked it, then?"

   "Oh, god, yes!" She jumped across the cab and hugged and kissed me.  "Do
you realize you just gave me the SKY?!?!?"

   "It is kinda cool, ain't it?" I said.  "Pizza for supper?" I asked.  "I
can make a phone call and we can beat them back to the trailer." There was
a local pizzeria that did delivery.

   "Yeah!  That's great!" A cellphone call got that on the way.

   The ride home was all about flying.  She asked the how and the why and I
feared I'd created another monster: A cute red-headed one.  Oh, well. 
There are worse things for people to want.

   We were sitting together on the sofa when the pizza arrived.  After
finishing it off, we traded sloppy, garlic-flavored kisses, then did the
shower thing.

   Afterward, drying her hair, I said, "Baby, I don't know the first thing
about getting a young lady's hair done."

   "Ain't much to it, honey," she said.  "I don't get my hair DONE, I get
it cut.  That's all.  I know the lady that does it.  An' I can call her an'
get it done.  I'm about due."

   "Really?" I observed that it was just beginning to drag her shoulders.

   "Yeah, it's, like, an inch or two too long."

   "You don't get it colored?"

   "Nope.  This is what color you get.  Mom wasn't gonna pay for extra
stuff for me." She paused.  "Unless.  Why?  D'you want me to change it?"
She turned and looked at me.

   "Oh, no, baby," I answered.  "I'm a sucker for it just the way it is. 
Women pay a lot of money to get hair like you have naturally."

   That got me a smile.  And a twinkle.  And a question that sat me back.
"So tell me how this hand job thing works..."

   "What?"

   "Hand jobs?" She looked at me, eyes a-twinkle.  "I heard Mom an' whoever
...  I assume it's somethin' that the girl does to the guy, from the sound
of it."

   "Yeah.  Girl can do that to the guy, or the guy can do it to himself."

   "I heard that's how guys masturbate."

   "It is."

   "Really?  You do that?"

   "Yeah, I did that.  Thinking about you, since after I moved here."

   Giggles "Really?  I excited you?"

   "Baby, you're the very definition of exciting."

   That got me a hug.  And kisses.  And a hand wrapped around my dick. 
"Lay back an' tell me how to do this..." She sat beside me, naked except
for her panties.

   "Ain't much to it.  You already do it.  Last night, the only difference
was that you sucked on me at the same time."

   She smiled as she slid the skin up and down my shaft.  "Like this?"

   "Yeah.  Or just slide the whole thing in an' out of your hand, and every
now an' then, rub the head.  You'll get it."

   She was having fun.  Right hand was doing the duties on my dick, her
left fondling my balls.  "Yahknow," she said, "I never saw your stuff come
out.  I feel it inside me.  I felt it in my mouth, like yesterday.  But I
never saw it come out." Little Miss Flexible bent over and sucked on my
nipple, causing my dick to jump.  And her to giggle.  Matter of factly she
said, "Come for me."

   She kept jacking and I was getting close.  Pre-cum started by drops at
first, then a steady flow and my hips were thrusting into her hand. 
"You're getting' close," she announced.

   "Oh, yeah," I hissed.  "I'm.  Getting.  Close.  Ohbaby ...  Nnngghhh! 
Yeah.  Commmingggg!" I thrust hard and the first jet of my orgasm went
straight up about three feet.

   "Oh, wow!" she giggled.  She kept stroking.  I kept spurting.  Three or
four more good ones, then a steady flow that covered her hand.  As I
collapsed backward onto the mattress, she smiled and made a show of licking
her hand.  Then sucking me clean.  And she laughed.  "I don't know where
that first one landed.  Wow!  I mean, I felt you inside me, and when I
sucked you last night, I could tell it was squirtin' but I had no idea it
went that far.  Wow!"

   I pulled her next to me and then rolled on my side to face her.  I've
often heard of eyes described as "adoring".  I looked into Cindy's.  And
knew what the term meant.  "Now you've done it," I said.

   "What'd I do?"

   "You've finished me off, an' I owe you two now, an' it's too early to go
to sleep."

   My Cindy grinned.  "TV?  Cards?  Both?"

   "Both." Cindy was fun to play cards with.  It was always a battle.  We
were 50-50 at rummy.  I tossed her a t-shirt.  "Cover up." I put on a
t-shirt and gym shorts, with no underpants.  We went into the other end of
the trailer where the TV and sofa were, and I pulled a little table out for
us to play cards on.  And we laughed and played and talked and even watched
some TV.  At ten, it was bedtime.

   We crawled in from opposite sides.  Well, I started to crawl in.

   "Uh-uh," she chided.

   "What?"

   "Take those shorts off.  They get in my way."

   "Okay," I smiled.

   We slid together under the covers and her hand just naturally grabbed my
dick, gently fondling, soothing, juggling my balls in her hand.  Finally
she rolled on her side facing away from me, and I turned toward her,
spooning up behind her.  She wiggled her ass onto my dick.  I put an arm
around her and squeezed on her titties gently, feeling the nipples harden,
then I drifted my hand downward, my fingers stroking her pubic mound, firm
beneath her panties.  The final sound I heard before I dozed off was her
"mmmmm".

   And so went the week.  By Friday a couple of things happened.  First,
Cindy's period was over.  Second, we were settling into a happy routine. 
Thursday was another trip to the library.  More books.  We had to figure
out how to work a little space into our togetherness.  I bought a wireless
card for my laptop, then gave it a little more thought, bought another one,
and a laptop for Cindy.  For school, of course.

   Two weeks passed.  I rolled into my parking spot beside my trailer.  Its
door flew open and Cindy bounced out to meet me.  This was a sore point,
because the first thing that came to both our minds at the end of the day
was an embrace that went well past the "young girl greeting her friend"
scale.

   I met her eyes.  "Nuh-uh..." I said.

   "Oh, I knowwww," she countered.  "I just wanted to tell you that the
scores came back on my test.  They're gonna call Mizz Helen about them."

   "Okay," I said.  I looked back towards the office.  Helen's SUV was
still there.  "Let's go tell her." I flipped open my cellphone and called
the office.  "Hey!" I said when Helen answered.  "Can you hang around a
minute?  Me an' Cindy need to talk to you."

   "I was gonna call you," she said.  "Got a call from school about Cindy."

   "Yes, ma'am," I said.  "We're on the way..."

   One thing that HAD changed in the last two weeks was that Helen was on
our tiny inside circle.  How tiny?  I knew.  Cindy knew.  Helen knew.  So
when we entered the office and I leaned up against the counter, I had Cindy
almost welded to my side.  She shook her head to get a strand of hair out
of her eyes.

   Helen smiled.  "I like your haircut, sugar," she told Cindy.

   "Thank you, Mizz Helen, but I'm gonna need a trim soon," she said.

   "We can get that done, baby," said Helen.  Then she turned to me.  "So,
Dan, the school calls me since I'm her guardian.  They want to see me about
some tests she took a couple of weeks ago."

   "Good?  Bad?" I questioned.

   "Oh, don't get your drawers in a wad.  They said they're very much
pleasantly surprised."

   "Well good, then..."

   "Yeah, and they want a parent-teacher conference to talk about it.  I
told them that I wanted to bring you 'cuz I'm a ol' country girl an' I
don't know much about that stuff."

   "Okay.  I'm up for that.  When?"

   "Next Tuesday.  Nine AM.  Counselor's office at the middle school."

   "I can do that.  I'll make sure."

   "This is good, right?" questioned Cindy.

   "Yeah, baby, if by 'good' you mean you have to stop skatin' through
classes and buckle down an' use your brain..."

   "What'd'ya mean, Dan," asked Helen.

   "Well Helen, it's like this.  Our little Cindy's mind in regular classes
is kinda like having a NASCAR racer in the Wal-Mart parkin' lot.  She's
never had to use most of the horsepower."

   "Yah think so?" Helen was perhaps not privy to Cindy's scholastic
abilities, having only seen her at the pool and bouncing in and out of the
office over the summer.

   Cindy was smiling.  She should be smiling.  I was complimenting her. 
"Yeah.  I KNOW so.  So far, it's been a good thing because Cindy's mom
wasn't real big on education, so all by herself, Cindy's been able to stay
at grade level, all without help, and apparently without trying very hard."
I winked at Cindy.

   Helen popped, "It's a wonder she went to school at all..."

   I continued.  "Since this year began, I've been watching her.  That
"Please, Mr.  Dan, help me with my homework" act got thin after the first
week.  She's sort of idling through her classes now."

   "So what do you think they're gonna tell us Tuesday?"

   "What I just told you.  Except they're gonna tell you in "Professional
Educator" language to make it sound mysterious." I fully expected to meet
some product of the "Of educators, FOR educators" professional educator
type.

   "An' what's that mean to me?" asked Cindy.

   "Yeah," said Helen.

   "Now that could be interesting.  I don't know what schools around here
offer.  Some places would move her into advanced classes.  Some might try
to move her up a grade or two."

   "But she'd be fourteen in high school?"

   "Yeah," I said.  "I don't know if I like that."

   "Me neither," Cindy chimed in.  "Middle school boys are yuck enough. 
Older?  No way!" She caught my eye.  "Boys, I mean." She swung her hip to
bump against my thigh.  "You're NOT a boy."

   "I guess we need to see what they say, then," I said.  "and you can tell
'em I'm her tutor, Helen."

   Helen smiled at the two of us.  "Ain't that somethin'," she laughed. 
"Next thing you'll tell me is that she's wantin' to be an engineer..."

   And Cindy giggled.

   Helen laughed back.  "Figures," she snorted.  "So that's next Tuesday.
Ya'll got plans for the weekend?"

   "Yeah," Me an' Cindy're going to Mobile.  Nice hotel.  Nice restaurants.
Tickets to a symphony."

   "A symphony?" Helen arched an eyebrow, looked at Cindy.  "Since when do
you do symphonies?"

   "Since Dan showed me that there's more to music than what Mom listened
to."

   "Dan, Dan, Dan..." Helen laughed, "You're the damnedest thing I ever
saw. Take a girl out of an Alabama trailer park an' get her to studyin'
engineerin' an' listenin' to classical music in a month an' a half..."

   That got both of Cindy's arms wrapped around me as she told Helen, "He
is somethin', ain't he?"

   "Ya'll go get packed.  You got an adventure to go on," said Helen. 
"I'll probably not see you 'til Monday."

   Cindy bounced out toward our (yes, it was "ours" now) trailer.  I looked
at that cute jeans-clad butt and that red hair swinging.  I turned to
Helen. "Lady," I said, "I'll never be able to thank you enough."

   Helen was smiling as I left to follow Cindy.

   By six-thirty we were checked into a hotel.

   "Look at the size of this shower, baby," she called from the bathroom.

   "Yeah, I specifically asked about it."

   Her red head peeked around the corner, smiling.  "Big enough for two,
huh?"

   I smiled back at her.  "Absolutely.  But first, what're you hungry for?
And pizza an' fried catfish are NOT acceptable choices."

   "Chinese?  You keep tellin' me about Chinese." My Cindy'd never had
Chinese.

   "I think we can do that.  We'll do a buffet so you can pick and choose."

   School clothes and work clothes were good enough for Chinese buffets, so
out the door we went.  I mused about what others would see when they saw
us, the odd couple, forty-two and fourteen, 6'2" and 5'3" ...  could have
been as innocent as dad and daughter ...  could have been just that.  But
how many would have seen two people who'd found their lifemates?

   Dinner was a huge success.  After cautioning Cindy, "Try a little bit.
If you like it, go back for more..." I led her down the buffet line, giving
her a running but not too specific commentary.  The sushi bar was
revelatory.  As in "Ewwww!!!  Raw fish?!?!?"

   But even raw fish was worth a try.  And a smile.  A further adventure
was chopsticks.  I used them and got bemused stares.  Of course I expected
the next, "Let me try" and bits of food flew for a minute, and by the end
of the meal, she might not be an expert, but she wasn't scared of them. 
And we were full.  And back in the room just after dark.

   Our first showering together.  A soapy, wet Cindy is a delightful
creature.  There's something supremely sensual about two naked bodies in a
shower.  I already knew this.  Cindy found out for the first time.  I found
out that I'd been missing the upper levels of the experience.  She was
drying her hair as I was shaving.  Short, jawline length hair.  She was dry
and brushed to perfection and I was shaved and she had my hand, tugging me
towards the kingsized bed.  We turned back the covers from opposite sides
and met in the middle.

   The result was a multitude of happy variations to the timeless mechanics
of lovemaking.  How wonderful can things be, when two people live to hear
and taste and feel and see pleasures in their mates?  We were finding out.

   She rode me.  Climbed on top, slid her wet pussy up and down the
underside of my hardness a couple of times, smearing me generously with
little girl juices, then rose up the exact right distance and angle for the
head of my dick to line up with her wet, tight pussy.  And slid herself
down over me.  And she rode.  Hard.  I held onto her hips.  Not for
guidance.  Not for control.  Just because it was HER.  She held my wrists
and tossed her head back as she neared the edge.  I watched her eyes
squeeze shut, she bit her bottom lip, snorting short, sharp breaths through
her nose, mewing sounds escaping her closed mouth as my hips thrust up to
meet her moves, and her "Nnnngghhhhhh!" as she came coincided with my first
spurts of hot semen inside her.  We shared our spasms together then she
collapsed into my open arms.  When she scooted up to kiss me, my soft,
soppy dick fell out of her pussy.  We kissed, long, soft, savoring.

   Finally she said, "We're gonna have a mess if we don't clean up..." and
she spun around on me.  "Too late.  You're gonna sleep in the wet spot!"
But that didn't stop either of us from licking and sucking the other clean.

   Of course, eager lips and tongue had the expected effect on my dick.  "I
love feelin' it grow in my mouth," she announced.  She slid off me and
repositioned herself between my legs and lavished kisses and licks and nips
and sucks on my balls.  I was fully hard again.

   "Come up here," I said.  She complied.  I wrapped her in my arms and our
mouths locked together.  As we kissed I rolled the two of us over,
positioning me above her.  Her legs spread, allowing me to sink between her
thighs.  I moved up, the head of my dick probing for heaven.  And found it.
As I eased into her, those legs wrapped around me, drawing me in.

   Our pubic bones met.  "Dan," she said, "Fuck me.  Make me come again."

   We'd discussed the difference between making love and fucking.  We'd
made love already.  We fucked.  Humping, snorting, grabbing, pounding, wet,
hot ...  Orgasmic.  I was spent.  Cindy was immobilized.

   I climbed out of bed and returned with a moist facecloth and wiped her
face.  She purred.

   "Dan," she said, "I don't think that sex is always this good between two
people.  Not listenin' to Mom.  But I think it's supposed to be just like
this.  You an' me do it right."

   "Yes, princess.  I always dreamed of having you."

   "You didn't even know me.  When you were old enough for sex, I wasn't
even born."

   "I know.  But I had an idea of what perfection was.  And then you came
along, and you showed me that I didn't have enough imagination."

   "Not enough imagination?" she questioned.

   "Yes, dearest, you're even better than I ever dreamed."

   She looked at me through dreamy eyes.  "An' I'll never be with another
man for all my life.  You're my everything." She pulled my hand to get me
beside her.  We snuggled.

   "TV?" she asked.

   "Sure!" I gave her the remote.  Fifty channels of "nothing's on." She
found a movie, a fairly recent chick flick.  "You don't mind this, do you?"

   "No, that's fine."

   We watched, laughing at the absurd, all the time I was thinking that
what was on the screen wasn't even close to being as improbable as my life
was at this very moment.

   Sex scene.  Shot so nothing showed, of course.  "Hmph!" Cindy snorted.
"We beat THAT seven nights a week." She kissed me.  "Sometimes two or three
times a night!" She saw something that hinted at the girl going down on the
guy and said, "Hah!  Watch this!" And with an audible gulp, she took my
whole soft dick into her mouth.  "Mmmmmm ...  D'you think mine's better?"

   "Yeah.  Because THAT guy didn't lose consciousness when SHE did'im.  And
YOU are far prettier.  No silicone.  No plastic.  No makeup.  Just pure,
perfect Cindy."

   She was back up, cheek resting on my shoulder, my arm around her.  "I'm
not perfect, Dan."

   "You are, for me."

   "An' you are, for me."

   Sometime later the TV sleep timer timed out.  We didn't know.  Satiated.
Together.  And what more could be asked?

   Saturday morning I woke before Cindy.  I regarded her sweet form, clad
in a white cotton t-shirt, no panties.  I couldn't keep my hands off that
body.  I gently traced the multiples of delightful young curves, leg, hip,
waist, stomach upward to the curve of those A-cup breasts.

   She stirred.  I showered gentle kisses, pushing her bangs aside with my
lips to kiss her forehead.  Her eyelids fluttered, opening, and she pulled
my face down to match our lips up.  Completing that connection, mobile
hands pulled me further as she rolled onto her back.  She slid sideways
under me, shoving her right leg under me, positioning me between her
thighs.

   I hadn't intended to do anything but wake her up for breakfast.  My
dick, however, noted further possibilities and hardened.  That was a good
thing, because mobile young hips meant a pussy was searching.  And found.
And we slid together.  And from the fucking of last night, we went into the
gentle sweet love-making now.

   I didn't hurry.  I stroked slowly, deeply, letting her hips move and
angle and wiggle, keeping her little clit in motion against the shaft that
was penetrating her, and I just rode along, knowing that she was the one
who would come this morning.  As she neared the edge, she pulled my lips to
hers, sounding her orgasmic moans into my mouth past our tongues.  And as
her body shuddered, mine released in response.  I felt her pussy walls
kneading my dick inside her, milking my semen from my body into hers.

   Finally we rolled apart.

   "I can't believe you haven't said 'good morning', sweetie..."

   "Mmmm," she purred.  "Don't actions say it better'n words?"

   "Yeah ...  yeah they do." I laughed.  "Better do a quick shower.  One of
us smells like sex..."

   We showered, then went out for breakfast, then rode around for a while,
waiting for the mall to open.  Cindy was excited.  "I hardly EVER got to
the mall.  Maybe three or four times.  An' Mom never spent much on me."

   "Sweetie," I told her, "malls aren't exactly my thing, but today's your
day, an' I have a platinum card an' I know how to use it.  So let's go."
And off we went.  And twice we had to go back out to the truck to drop off
bags of new clothes and shoes.  The back of the crew cab was full of
colorful plastic.  I took her by the hand to a jeweler.  She left there
sporting a delicate gold chain.  "We'll think about what to put on it..."

   Lunch was at the food court.  In the noise and crowds of a mall on a
Saturday, I only had eyes for Cindy.  She had her head on a swivel, noting
styles and sounds and looks of teens and young adults.  I noted her
attentions and I admit it caused me some unease.  Finishing lunch, we made
one more visit to a couple more stores.  Perfume counter.  I was quite
happy to whip out the platinum card.

   The afternoon was beginning to heat up as we walked out to the truck.  I
glanced sideways.  Her face was at the same time excited and serene.  I
blame it on the green eyes.  And freckles.  Sprinkled across that pert
nose.

   Getting into the truck, she pushed the console up and took her seat next
to me.  We drove out, headed back to the hotel.

   "D'ya believe, like, ALL those people?!?" she said.

   "I saw you were lookin'."

   "I was.  An' listenin'.  Those girls were sittin' behind me while we
were eatin', they sounded so stupid ...  like, clothes, an' he says, an'
she goes, an' I'm like..." She looked at me.  I could feel the stare. 
"Dan," she asked, "Honest.  Am I like that?  Do I sound that immature an'
silly?"

   "Not by a long shot, Cindy.  You're refreshingly mature.  Especially for
your age.  I noticed that back when I first talked to you at the pool."

   "Yeah?"

   "Yeah.  I see this teen girl, and I figure it's all boy bands and
fashions and hip-hop and nail polish.  And do YOU remember the first thing
you talked to me about?"

   "No."

   "What's gonna replace the space shuttle.  I remember."

   "Well who cares who Disney's pushin' for music?  That stuff all sounds
alike.  It sucks.  It ain't exactly Bach."

   "Bach?  Have I played Bach for you?"

   "Nope.  You left a CD out.  "Inventions".  Can you imagine this guy
sittin' there at one of those huge church organs an', like, just INVENTING
music like that?"

   It was a good thing we were at a traffic light.  I had to kiss her. 
"What a delightful brain you have inside that pretty head," I laughed.  "So
you didn't see all those young people and wish that was YOU?"

   "No way, babe.  Those girls, that whole table of 'em, they talked for
half an hour an' never used a word with more than two syllables.  An' the
guys were worse.  I mean, if you can't even figure out which way your cap
goes on your head ...  Please!"

   "That's the style, baby..."

   "An' what's "style"?  A synonym for "stupid"?  Huh!"

   My darling used "synonym" and it wasn't in a vocabulary exercise.  No
wonder I was in love.

   She was on a roll.  "So, babe, how 'bout we go back to the room, I pick
out what to wear tonight, an' I get a chance to make love to a real smart,
wonderful, mature guy who's gonna be my husband in, oh, like a year an'
eleven months..."

   "Your wish is my command..."

   We hauled a full load of bags back into the room.  She laid out several
outfits.  New.  And the dark green sweater and skirt.  She saw my eyes. 
Smiled.  "You like me in this."

   "Yes.  It brings out the very best of your beauty."

   "Ya know," she said, "until you came along, I didn't know I had any
beauty.  An' now, I only have it for you..."

   We put her outfit for the evening on hangers.  Cleared the bed of
clothes and bags.  Turned the covers down.

   "One more thing," she said.

   "What?"

   "I bought this with my own money." I'd given her a hundred bucks in
twenties.  "You were lookin' at socks or something." She held up an
impossibly small amount of green cloth fastened together by what looked
like thick shoelaces.  "My new bathing suit." And twinkly eyes and that
smirky grin.  "Want me to model it?"

   "Oh, yeah..."

   I thought that her dropping clothes to complete nudity was pretty good.
Helping her into that bikini was even better.  It wasn't impossibly small
and slutty.  Actually, on the scale of swimwear, it was actually rather
chaste, if you're thinking about, say, the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit
Issue, but this was on my Cindy, and the effect was breathtaking.

   "What'd'ya think?" She twirled.  Funny how sometimes a little bit of
cover enhances the sexuality.  Like she needed enhancement.

   "I'm just glad you didn't show up at the pool like that the first time I
met you.  They'd have me in jail for baby-raping ...  An' girls in suits
like that don't talk about space shuttles..."

   She giggled and came to sit on my lap, straddling me, her arms wrapped
around my neck.  And we kissed.  She whispered, "How come you have all
these clothes on?"

   Five o'clock, we were out the door.  I swear my knees were wobbling. 
Cindy was glowing.  And smiling.  We picked a good restaurant together for
dinner.  She was becoming more poised, familiar with etiquette and manners,
and I worried not a bit about taking her to "nice" restaurants.  Not
anymore.

   Our tickets to the concert were centered on the stage, a dozen rows
back, perfect, and we shared the soaring strains of great music together,
feeding our spirits.  As we walked through the lobby afterward, I couldn't
help but notice that more than one head turned as we passed.  I like to
think it was because of the striking image of this young beauty, perfect
young face, red hair sleek, shiny, set off against the dark pine green of
her sweater.

   Nearing midnight, we were in bed in each other's arms.  I still detected
the wisps of her perfume (yes, THAT perfume) intertwined with the musk of a
sexually sated young girl.  I breathed deeply.  Her face was near my ear as
we eased into sleep.  I heard a whisper.  "Dan, I love you.  We need more
music like that..."