On a quiet corner of Cherry Street there stands a little two-story house with a white picket-fence and two large shade trees. In the summer, the lawn is always well manicured, and in the winter, the steps and walks are free of snow and ice.

The house is across the street and a half block east of Saint Andrews Academy. The academy is an elementary, parochial school for girls. The school uniform consists of a white button blouse, a pleated skirt, a matching necktie, and white knee socks with black patent leather shoes. The academy maintains the highest academic standards in the community. It is considered a privilege and an honor to attend St. Andrews.

All St. Andrews girls are exceptionally bright, most are beautiful, and a few are precociously mature in their attitude, manners, and behavior. For those St Andrews girls who manage to combine intelligence with physical beautiful and youthful maturity, there awaits a very special opportunity. These are the girls who are invited to take Wednesday after-school tea at the little house on the corner of Cherry Street and Bluebird Lane.

David Bell bought the house when he was 35 years old. He has lived there ever since. He retired at age 60 to enjoy a quiet bachelor existence. Last month he turned 64. He is a trim and robust senior citizen.

Long before his retirement, Dave started the tradition of hosting Wednesday afternoon tea parties for the creme' de la creme' of St Andrews' student body. Dave is very particular about the girls who attended his tea parties. He doesn't serve the usual after-school snacks. He doesn't serve hot chocolate or milk and cookies; the girls are invited for tea. He severs tea and toast. There is milk and sugar for the tea, and butter and jam for the toast, but nothing else, except conversation.

The girls are expected to behave like young ladies. They are to sit and engage in quiet conversation while they sip their tea and nibble their toast. They must to be polite to David and to one another. Dave's tea-parties are very adult, very genteel affairs. Even at St Andrews, only a very few girls are ready enjoy this more mature type of social intercourse. Dave's tea-parties are design to identify those few girls who are prepared to enjoy and appreciate the most adult of all pastimes.

Uncle David's table can seat six people comfortably. Therefore, no more than five girls are invited on any particular Wednesday afternoon. Uncle David sits at the head of the table with two girls on each side and one at the opposite end of the table. If there are fewer girls, they are seated closer to Dave's end of the table.

When the girls arrived, the table is already set with a lace tablecloth, fine china, polished silver and cloth napkins. At each place there is a cup and saucer, a butter plate, a napkin, a butter knife, a teaspoon, and a small card with the name of the girl who is assigned to that seat.

Because Rebecca Carr, a third grader, was sick with a cold, there were only three girls attending this week's party. The girls attending were Joan O'Neill, age eleven and a veteran of many tea-parties. Susan Burnett, age ten, also a regular. Both girls had started attending Uncle David's parties when they were in third grade, and now they are both in Sister Mary Agnes's fifth grade class. Allison Coleman, is nine and in the fourth grade. She had been coming the Dave's parties for just six weeks.

At first Allison felt very uncomfortable just sitting and talking. In an attempt to hide her nervousness, she would swallow several pieces of toast and wash them down with cups of tea. She would often jiggle one leg, a nervous habit which Sister Ann was working hard to correct. The whole idea of speaking quietly and listening carefully was foreign to her experience at her previous school. There, girls would yell and shout at one another and never listen to what the other girls were shouting about.

One year at St Andrews had a calming effect on Allison, but Dave's tea-parties help her to see that acting like an adult meant you were treated like an adult. Over the course of several weeks, Allison gradually relaxed. Soon she began to enjoy the polite company of Uncle David and her fellow students. Today as she sat and listened and laughed and nodded, she felt as though she was in complete control of herself. She felt comfortably grownup. She was enjoying the companionship of Joan, Susan, and Uncle Dave so much that she had barely touched her toast and had sipped only half of her tea. When she spoke, the other people at the table listened to what she said. Attending Uncle David's parties convinced her that she didn't want to be treated like a fourth grade girl; she wanted to be treated like a woman.

As the girls rose to go home Uncle David placed a gentle hand on Allison's shoulder. "Allison, you've never been upstairs; would you like a tour?"

Allison's heart skipped a beat. Last week Susan had remained behind for the tour. The week before Joan had stayed behind. And the week before that, eight-year-old Rebecca took her first tour. It was after Rebecca stayed behind that Susan explained to Allison what happens on one of Uncle Dave's tours. At the time, she knew was too young to do such things. She knew she should tell someone about Uncle Dave's tours. She knew she should never go back to Uncle Dave's house. These were things she knew, but the next day when she saw how cheerful and mature Rebecca looked and acted, she could only hope Uncle Dave would soon see her as mature enough to be invite for her maiden tour. And now it was about to happen.

Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at Dave and said in her most adult voice, "I'd love a tour."

Joan and Susan shared a secret smile; then they both gave Allison a hug and a kiss as they left.

The tour lasted more than an hour. There was the guest room, the bathroom, and Uncle David's bedroom. Most of the tour took place on Uncle David's bed.

As Allison left the little house on Cherry Street, her skirt was wrinkled, her blouse was rumpled, and her panties were soaked with sperm. She walked home on wobbly legs. When she arrived home she went straight to the bathroom and removed her panties. She used a cloth to wipe between her legs. Then she carefully rinsed her panties in the sink, wrung them out, and slipped them back on still wet. Both Susan and Joan had explained how they did this after they finished a tour to keep their mothers from finding any funny stains inside their underwear.

After Allison finished in the bathroom she slipped into her room, hung up her school clothes, and changed into a pair of jean and a sweat shirt. As Allison sat down to study, she felt the wetness of her panties. It made her smile. She may only be in the fourth grade, but Uncle David treated her like a woman, and she liked being treated like a woman.

The following morning as David sat at his kitchen table reading the newspaper, the front doorbell rang. When he opened the door, he found a young woman standing on his stoop smiling at him. The woman looked to be in her late 20's. Dave assumed she was selling something until he noted what she was wearing. She wore a white button blouse, a pleated skirt with a matching necktie, white knee socks, and black patent leather shoes.

Her outfit could easily have passed a nun's inspection at Saint Andrews.

Dave looked into the woman's smiling face. Her eyes were blue with yellow flecks radiating out from her large dark pupils. "Karen Cresey?"

"Yes. But it's not Cresey anymore; its Coleman."

"And Allison Coleman is . . ."

"My daughter."

"Yes of course, she has your eyes. Oh please come in." After Dave escorted his visitor to the kitchen he asked, "Would you like some tea and toast?"

"I'd love some."

While Dave prepared the tea and set the table, Karen sat and watched the man she hadn't seen since her last tea party almost fifteen years ago. That was a week before her graduation from St Andrews and it had ended with a tour on Uncle David's bed. She smiled as she remembered past tea parties and those special tours which often followed the taking of tea and toast .

When the tea and toast were ready, Karin and David sat and quietly reminisced about old times and old friends.

Karin explained that because of Dave, she learned to enjoy sex more than she should have. When she was in high school a man old enough to be her grandfather knocked her up. She married him and nine months later gave birth to Allison. When Allison turned five her husband moved the family to Georgia. Karen hated Georgia and found the schools in Georgia to be terrible. When her husband died she moved back home, and enrolled Allison in St. Andrews. Karen hoped Allison would mature in this new environment.

Dave smiled at the young mother and said, "Allison is a bright, beautiful, and adventurous young lady."

"Is she mature enough?"

"Yes."

Karin smiled back at David and asked, "Is she good in bed?"

"She's your daughter, so of course she is. Only she's better than good; like you, she is superb."

"Wet?"

"She has a deliciously juicy slit. I could stop eating her pussy. Twice she came on my tongue."

"Did she suck you?"

"Yes, but it was her first time, and she'll need more practice."

"She's only in the fourth grade; you'll have her for at least two more years. She learns quickly."

"I know; in the few weeks she's been coming here, there has been a remarkable change in her behavior, She's so much more mature and relaxed than when she first arrived."

"Did she go all the way?"

"Of course she did."

"Then you actually . . . you know . . . did it . . ."

"Yes we actually fucked?"

"How much of you did she take?"

"All of it."

"All of it?"

Yes, I was in up to my balls."

"I was ten, almost eleven, the first time you did me; she just turned nine."

"Girls mature early now."

"Yes, I think they do. Did she bleed much."

"Not a drop."

"I'm not surprised."

"Why is that?"

"She sleeps with a hair brush under her pillow. It has a long smooth handle. I've always suspected she uses it as a dildo."

"Did that upset you?"

"No, not in the least. I knew when her opportunity came, she would be ready, and her opportunity came yesterday, didn't it?"

"Yes it did."

"And was she ready?"

"Yes, and eager. I knew she would be."

"How did you know?"

"There is a parallel between social intercourse and sexual intercourse. When a girl engages in conversation and takes responsibility for making herself understood, and at the same time, takes responsibility for understanding her companions, she is demonstrating a readiness for amorous intercourse. In the bedroom a mature young lady will take responsibility both for her own pleasure and pleasure of her partner."

"And her partner will do likewise?"

"If he's mature, he will."

"I'm pleased she started with you."

"I' am too. How was she this morning?"

"Happy. Very, very happy."

"I thought she would be. Did she say anything to you?"

"Not a word."

"Then how did you know?"

"A few weeks ago I found out Allison had started attending your Wednesday afternoon tea-parties. I knew it wouldn't be long before you gave her the tour. So I looked for signs. Yesterday was Wednesday, tea-party day. Last night, I looked at my daughter and saw that freshly fucked look that girls get after they finish their first tour and I knew you had started her on her journey.

"Then this morning, she acted so calm and grownup; I knew she had become a woman."

"Does that make you sad?"

"No, I want her to grow up and enjoy life."

"Now, what about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Karen, it's been a long time since you were here. I've made several changes in the upstairs; would you like a tour?"

"Oh, David, how very kind of you to ask. For old times sake, I'd love a tour."

The tour lasted almost two hours. As Karen left by the side door, her skirt was wrinkled, her blouse was rumpled, and her panties were soaked with sperm, and like her daughter, she too walked home on wobbly legs.