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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2006. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Larissa
by Peter Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)
***
Simply a "teaser" for the forthcoming sequel to "The
Complete Harper Valley." The new book will be called
"Harper Valley: A Postscript" and is due to be
published in June 2006. This very brief and I think
rather sad little episode. occurred very recently and
confirms the old adage "Time waits for no man!" It is
part of the first chapter of the new book. (Mf, ped,
rom)
***
Over Larissa? Like Hell I was!
Certainly, 'passing the baton' as it were, had seemed
smooth enough. I was delighted that she and Chris had
developed the bond they had at the very end of the
"Harper interlude." Not only was I comfortable in the
knowledge that like us, she and her father had seceded
from the group but by forming an attachment with my son
- I saw more of her now than at any time during the
frenetic partying.
They seemed both compatible and emotionally linked - I
have never once seen or heard them arguing and she
became as regular a fixture at our dinner table as any
of my four. We still talked as we always had, she never
failed to give me a goodnight kiss before Chris would
take her home or George, pick her up. Speaking of
George, he and I would often go to the local tavern for
many pleasant hours of two-way vocalised indulgence. On
much the same wavelength, we were never short of a
subject for conversation let's say.
Whenever the subject of Harper Valley came up - and
that actually was very rarely - he would freely admit
to missing the physical side of things with my three -
little Jenna especially, for whom I know he still
carries a flame, one of glowing intensity if the truth
be known. One has only to watch his reactions when
around her, just the little things - how he looks into
her eyes when she is talking. The occasional contact
with her hand or shoulder - all the quintessential
gentlemanly quirks. I, of all people should recognize
the symptoms, being thus afflicted in Larissa's
presence.
I must openly confess, nothing would have given me
greater pleasure than to see Jenna form a deeper
attachment for him, despite the uncompromising age
difference. She will never find anyone who loves her
more and who would forever treat her with George's
unconditional respect and kindness. No-one ever likely
to fuck her more intensely either. He really had her
number and she - his! If George wanted to take her to
bed three nights a week, it would be wholly with my
blessing. Well - so long as I could watch!
So yeah, Larissa was on site more often than not.
Sometimes she would even come here direct from school
and make a start on her assignments whilst waiting for
Chris to get home from work. That of course gave she
and I time together - especially when I was enlisted to
source web-sites, relative to whatever she was
researching.
Funny thing, I never regarded the relationship at that
stage as any more than that of father/potential
stepdaughter, despite what we had shared so intimately
in our previous co-existence. I'm sure it would have
stayed this way too, had not we been left in the house
alone one Tuesday afternoon when Jenna, Kylie and
Natalie were all elsewhere and Chris had called to say
he'd be an hour or so late.
These facts alone had actually nothing to do with what
happened.. The wheels fell off over nothing more
significant than Larissa inadvertently dislodging a
reference book that fell on the floor between us, at
the table we keep in the dining room specifically for
school-work.
Leaning down, I picked the thing up and in the process
of returning it to the small pile of other books, I
discovered Larissa's face only inches from my own. It
was a beautiful face... a face I realised I still loved
desperately. She kissed me every bit as intentionally
as a young girl on a first date. This of course put
paid to any further homework.
"I so love you Noel," she whispered, almost in
justification of her lips being locked now, firmly on
to my own.
"Well sweetheart," I said, disentangling our mouths
momentarily. "I seem to remember us addressing this
problem months back. Kind of a "High Noon" as I recall,
with me riding off into a nuclear holocaust. You hooked
up with Chris - I was happy for you both... and now
we're doing our best to betray everyone we both love.
Makes a lot of sense!"
"But since you mention it," I added, "I love you too
sweetheart. Beyond family ties, common sense or even
biological credibility. What the Hell are we going to
do about it?"
Larissa glanced towards the hallway and the far
staircase.
"My thoughts exactly," I smiled, taking her hand.
At the point I had her lying on my quilt in just her
matching blue bra and panties, I could do no more than
just stare at her unutterable beauty. Well I suppose
that is radically understating the situation.. So much
could I have done - it's doubtful she would ever have
recovered. I don't even recall with any distinct
clarity the order in which I proceeded.
Her bra must have been an early casualty because I can
still taste the milky softness of those beautiful
breasts and hear the soft girlish sounds of silence, as
I suckled her to the very edge of reason. Her urgency
grew with my own and I do remember that no sooner had I
pulled her panties down, than she kicked them off and
spread her legs wide, inviting somewhat more than a
six-monthly gynaecological check-up.
I sank into the depths. I was home - protected by her
arms and befuddled by her kisses. Nothing else
mattered. When you love a girl on an empirical level
like this - cause and effect no longer registers. I had
all those months of separatist diplomacy to make-up
for. I wanted nothing less than to impregnate her - to
place my seed in the receptacle that had always been
mine to usurp. George I knew, would understand.
Larissa moaned as I took her... transported her, far
beyond Utopia to a place that only I had residency. The
tears she was shedding were anything but those of
pain... it was in fact the worst agony of all...
understanding!
Even our joint orgasmic bliss was but an interruption
in what followed. I made love to her on her knees,
kneeling upright, astride me - and finally on her back
with her legs over my shoulders. Long emptied of
anything vaguely procreative, I was driven by such
repressed love for the girl, I feared for my emotional
well-being.
"Don't pull out," she pleaded at one stage, "Don't EVER
pull out!" Truth is, I hadn't planned to.
A little later however, having by necessity to get
dressed, I watched as she wriggled back in to her
panties, more than happy to allow the soft cotton to
stem the seeping tide from between her legs, having
expressed her preference to stay 'squishy,' rather than
take a shower and lose the ultimate focus of my
affection.
How can I ever forget either, her kneeling there on my
bed, breasts jutting out proudly as, handing me her
bra, she just whispered in wide-eyed girlish tease,
"You put it on for me!"
So pleasantly arousing a task did that prove, packing
those soft and delicate little orbs back into their
padded creche, it was all I could do not to push her
backwards, tug those skimpy little panties back down
and take up where I left off. But for now - kissing her
was what I needed and no lips ever to cross my line of
vision, were better suited to such a task. I held her
to me and let passion run its course.
With still a good half an hour before Chris or anyone
else was due home, we just sat and talked. Far from my
bedroom too - that definitely not being conducive to
rational thinking.
"Do you love my son?" I then cruelly asked, having no
right to put Larissa in so desperately pressured a
situation, but equally - needing to know.
The poor kid lost out either way. Had she said "Yes,"
it challenged then her own loyalties and morality. A
"No," would question her very motives for being with
him, classifying her additionally as a "user," simply
hanging around until Mr Right reined in his steed in
the coming months. She certainly didn't rush her
answer.
"Yes," she finally said, "I do love Chris - but it's
just so different. I know he's your son Noel, but he's
not you... he never can be. I don't know what it is
with you... you make me feel like both your daughter
and your lover. When you make love to me I just feel so
close to you emotionally - it's like I always was part
of you. Things we share - she glanced back towards the
stairs - Chris and I never can... and that's not his
fault... not anyone's fault. Does all this make any
sense?"
I smiled at her, "Luckily no," I lied.
I knew of course exactly what she was trying to say and
my heart ached for her as she spoke. Nothing though
could ever bridge that getting on for forty-year age
difference and however much I loved her, it was an
inescapable fact now that our relationship was doomed
to be one of fleeting coexistence. 60-20... 70-30...
the most basic of math ruled out the possibility of
this game ever going into extra time.
"Well sweetheart," I grinned, "You're just going to
have to get used to being raped by an old man from time
to time. Perhaps your father-in-law if things pan out
right? Can you live with that?"
She hugged me to her, "At least once a week?" she
giggled, "Think you can manage that?"
"More like twice a day, you silly little girl," I
replied, kissing once more those wonderfully soft lips.
The lock turning in the front door, signified at least
one of the brood had returned.
"Now what else do you need to know about 'Queen
Hatshepsut' and the New Kingdom?" I enquired.
(c) Peter_Pan 2006
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
When I have further release details on "Harper Valley:
A Postscript" I will of course, post that information
both here and on the web-site:
www.geocities.com/worldofpeter_pan/intro.html
Those of you who have not read "The Complete Harper
Valley" will be disadvantaged, in as much as not being
privy to certain unpublished episodes contained in
it(the concluding one especially) might lead to a
problem with continuity in the new book.
With regards to "Larissa" that you have just read, I
have decided after much soul-searching, to post her
picture on the website ('Harper Valley Blog' page) You
won't have any trouble finding her from the many
descriptions of Larissa in episodes past.
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 41