Chapter 1

It happened even without me having ever thought about it; the entire sequence of events was completely unplanned and even unimagined. The story, I think, really begins much before what I'm about to relate, so I suppose I'd better start back some years...to my boyhood.

I guess the first time I realized I was permanently hooked on young girls was when I was a young guy in high school. I was walking behind one of my female schoolmates and couldn't help looking at her very shapely feminine curves. My thoughts somehow focused on the vast difference between freshly nubile females and the generally overblown figures of women in age groups ten or twenty years older than a high schooler. The comparison was neither compassionate nor philosophical as regards the necessary process of getting older. The differences between the curvy little classmate in front of me and even the prettiest of any of the adult women I knew left but one conclusion: young females were infinitely preferable to the older variations.

I gave it no more thought at the time, nor did I for a considerable time thereafter. At the time, my interest was normally, naturally, and very properly fixated on girls roughly my own age, or maybe a year or two younger. Girls older than I, from my point of view, were obviously more sophisticated and knowledgeable and, since that intimidated me, they didn't interest me very much.

I guess I wasn't the bold, daring adventurous type. In any case, my ego was too fragile to risk with girls in grades higher than my own.

This preference has not changed throughout my life, although for reasons quite different now from in my youth. Women much senior to me in age have never been particularly interesting.

Of course, there were many exceptions, Hollywood, for example, was full of them, but I didn't live in Hollywood. Neither was that class of female ever going to be "in my league," no matter what. For my purposes, my comparison was valid, and my carefully considered judgment of the matter at the time became a permanent preference to this day. Actually, my interest in young females began even before high school.

My sexual awakenings began at an age that, to some, may be surprising. On the other hand, I can't imagine I'm all that unique sexually and, therefore, have to believe that quite frequently children have sexual feelings at ages sometimes much earlier than many adults are aware. I think that many youngsters must be much as I was when very young; sexually agitated without having any idea of exactly why.

I spent my earliest school years in a small town in the American West. I will reveal only a few things regarding my early years because they have much bearing on what follows. I first recall my sexual awakenings a probably an age commensurate with that of the typical first or second-grader. This is based on no more than my reckoning but I'm certain that it's accurate enough for the purpose of this narrative.

On one of the major compass points of our small town there were some sandstone bluffs that some Midwesterners might even go so far as to term "cliffs" and, indeed, there were places where, from the top, had you stepped off, the fall to the bottom of the sharply vertical descent would have been more than sufficient to kill you even if reduced by half or two-thirds of their actual height. At the time during my second year in elementary school (maybe first grade, too) I had no idea the somewhat prominent geological feature I'm about to describe had a name. The name of this particular feature of the rock-cliff during the first part of World War II was "Mussolini's Eye." I don't know how, or who, named this rock feature, possibly high school kids, and there's just no telling how long it had been known by that name. I sometimes wonder if it's still called by the same name. I doubt it; most kids today probably don't even know who Mussolini was. So much for education by our left wing indoctrinated educators. Everything now focuses on "self esteem" rather than actually trying to teach anything significant. Sad, but at least they think well of themselves, I guess, even though most of them "suffer" from Attention Deficit Disorder, which if we had it when I was a kid, we didn't know it and nobody gave a rat-fart about it.

The "eye" was an indentation in the sandstone near the very top of the huge sandstone rock that comprised the "cliff." It was just one hell of a big rock with a hole at the top near the edge. Given the appearance of the big rock in its entirety, a huge sandstone monolith, its size dwarfing other extremely large rocks of the same composition, it's very flat frontal exposure, topped by the little depression at its top . . . maybe in a time when the world was at war, high-school kids could imaginatively name such a rock "Mussolini's eye. Maybe, heck, I figured that's what they'd done.

It didn't matter that the "eye" was too high up the rock face to be consistent with an eye's normal location on a face, the kids' imagination in a time of war must have made naming the hole in the rock seem to be a very timely and clever thing in their small-town world. Thinking about it now and remembering how pictures of Mussolini often show him with a bulky, flat looking jaw line, even the face of the rock was vaguely reminiscent, if you used your imagination, to think of it as somewhat resembling Mussolini. As an adult, whenever I go back to that little town and look at the rock, it doesn't look at all like Mussolini, but to a child ....

There were several things that made this hole interesting. The first was that it was quite safe (from a kid's point of view . . . no parent would ever think it safe!) for even a second grader to enter although, from the top of the rock, looking at it from the top, but from even six or eight feet away from the ledge, it was entirely invisible.

Should a person, standing back far enough from the ledge, say 20 or even 15 feet, watch another person step off it and instantly drop into a crouch, it would look as though they had fallen to their death! In fact, however, the hole had a lip below the upper edge of the "eye" that extended several feet beyond the ledge at the top. Of course jumping off of the upper level onto the lip several feet below could have easily resulted in a small trip of the foot, or the turning of the ankle, or any number of similar missteps, or mistakes that could have ended in a fall over the edge of a sixty foot vertical drop, and would have undoubtedly ended in death...fortunately I never made such a fatal error, although it certainly had been a possibility I didn't fully appreciate at the time. Or, maybe I did. I remember always thinking how careful I had to be, but a little kid's coordination and judgment at that age are highly questionable. I'm glad I made it even though the memory now almost brings a shiver of chills down my spine. (Certainly not a "thrill up my leg" as experienced by Chris Matthews . . . the blow-hard idiot).

Could one of us kids have made a serious misstep and fallen off the lower ledge? Of course! But kids are invulnerable, and if you doubt it, just spend some time with one. At that age, I knew everything and death was just a word, not a possibility. I knew I was never going to fall out of Mussolini's Eye! Fortunately, I was right, but it was no sure thing, despite my confidence. If I had ever fallen off the lower ledge, I'm sure my last thought would have been one of pure surprise.

I'm now embarrassed to admit to scaring hell out of my younger brother and several of my age-group peers...at least those few that I somehow ended up spending a bit of time together at the edge of this somewhat daunting precipice. My method of frightening them was to act as though I was looking at anything but where I was walking as I approached the edge of the cliff. From the perspective of anyone following me more than just a few feet behind it was as if they were watching a stupid little kid in the second grade gesturing and raving about whatever as he walked towards a drop-off of at least 50 or 60 feet.

Their wild, even hysterical screaming to me, of course, went entirely unheeded as they watched me, seemingly unaware of my peril, step off the upper edge, quickly stooping to conceal myself in the cavity just behind me.

Why do I mention this? Well, I really don't know, unless it's to admit to a certain level of cruelty in my nature. I hasten to assure you that, as I've gotten much older, I've gotten much kinder and much more guided by conscience. As this narrative continues, you may disagree with this, perhaps overly optimistic, personal assessment.

At my age now, I'd never do anything to affright anyone who cared for me that I was walking to my certain death over the edge of an obvious precipice. However, children are often cruel, even sometimes without knowing how cruel they are being. Possibly, because of the cruelty done to me by other children as I grew up, certain elements of cruelty have always been an inherent part of my psychological makeup. I was a tall, skinny kid and, although very strong, wasn't much possessed of valor, or courage.

By 4th grade, about nine years old, I became much more combative and wouldn't hesitate a second to launch myself into a full-bore attack if another kid tried to bully me. Still, as a second, and even a third-grader, I was pretty much a wimp.

I always knew that I wanted to be "a good kid," but frequently I'd step out of line and do something wrong always, however, being careful to not be caught at it. I rarely was. It's likely that most adults thought of me as a "little angel." Quiet, even somewhat reclusive but not exactly shy, friendly and, underneath, sort of guilt-ridden and a bit secretive would have been a fitting description of me.

On the other hand, probably due to being basically very insecure, I was an unmitigated, obnoxious show-off often making a complete fool of myself not realizing how really stupid I was behaving. I think that my ridiculous behavior was often in a miserably failed attempt to impress some girl. I always was very aware of any girls whether they were aware of me or not. I don't think that most of them gave much of a damn whether I was around or not, but I didn't realize that at the time.

In that vein of thought, evaluating that stage of my childhood, I realize that I've always been somewhat a slave of the inclinations of carnal man, I've not exactly been entirely consistent in following the dictates of either my conscience or my understanding of moral behavior.

I'm also smart and selfish enough to have a paramount interest in preserving my social, family, and legal standing. In other words, despite my often foolish behavior, I have never wanted to be doing anything that would cause me to be exposed to ridicule, shame, or punishment. Preserving my family's good name has always been of paramount importance to me. I had been raised to have an almost Oriental-like aversion to bringing shame to my family. You can choose your own description of me from the details that follow. I don't mind...actually, I am probably harsher in my judgments of myself than even the most puritanical of you who might be reading this might be.

I remember sitting alone in Mussolini's Eye looking out over the vista of the town below, watching the occasional car wending its way to its final destination ... the home of the driver of the car. Occasionally, a girl or a couple of girls could be seen walking home from school...probably high school since we younger students were dismissed from class several hours earlier than those more advanced students in our town's school system. That might still be the case...I don't know.

Being possibly three or four hundreds of yards from the nearest street below me, I could see little of these girls from that distance and elevation. I couldn't, for example, clearly see their facial features nor even get a clear view of the shapes of their bodies. This was especially true in those days back in the late 40s because young folks just didn't dress as provocatively as is common today. Had they done so, I think I might have been even more agitated at the sight of them than I was. Maybe not, though. I really didn't know why seeing girls so far away should have such an effect on me, but it did.

How was I agitated? At the time, I couldn't have told you. I admit that I didn't really understand my interest in them. I've already indicated that I wasn't situated to have a good view of them. I also admit that I knew absolutely nothing of sex.

Nevertheless, seeing the occasional girl or two, walking several hundreds of yards below me and, emboldened by the fact that I could stare at them while being completely invisible to them, I felt a strange tension that seemed to center itself in my abdomen and, having no better sexual target, my vague, uncertain longings as well as my extremely limited knowledge left me to arbitrarily focus on their waist lines.

Of course, I had no idea what it was about their midsections that fascinated me but seeing them caused a sort of aching feeling of hunger in me. I sort of imagined eating their midsections without really thinking of biting or chewing on their flesh. My "hunger" wasn't at all cannibalistic but simply the first unfocused stirrings of sexual interest. Somehow, I knew that females were very interesting and very desirable, but had no idea of exactly why. All I knew was that I loved females even if I had no idea what I wanted to do with one.

Funny, now that I really give it some thought, I suppose what I'd have done with a girl in the most intimate, sexually conducive circumstances is lick and nuzzle her navel like a puppy lapping milk. I doubt that physically or imaginatively I'd have been able at that age to do anything more. I might not have even been adventurous enough have done that, but I know I would have liked to.

So, the pattern was established. I liked girls but, lacked sufficient information to understand why. They were interesting, different, beautiful, and there was something about them that, even just looking at them, caused deep stirrings within me that I had no way of understanding or assuaging. I suffered from frustrated urges without either definition or remedy. Fortunately, by junior high school, I'd learned enough that I knew what it was about girls that interested and attracted me so much, and I knew what I wanted from them. From then on, my life seems to have been a relentless quest to satisfy my desire to possess and enjoy those beautiful creatures.

Then came high school and, as a sophomore, I began dating. Being a young man myself, the girls of my own age and even a year or so younger, fascinated, and excited me. Girls in the 8th grade and younger were just "little girls" to me and were of no particular interest. One thing I was NOT was a pedophile. Of course, at that age, my interest in girls of such tender years was normal and my interest in them was not yet a perversion. On to university without becoming a father despite doing my best to involve myself in certain activities that could have had that result ... at least until my second year as a university student.

My first marriage came about because of my girlfriend's unplanned pregnancy in my sophomore year at college. We quickly got ourselves married in order to preserve as much of our reputations as was possible in the abbreviated nine month interval between bliss and birth. A miscarriage only a few weeks later rendered our panicked marriage not only pointless but also unendurable. We quickly and cheerfully divorced without any animosities between us.

I was currently in my second marriage. My current wife was much more to my liking, even though our marriage was clearly a failure and was unlikely to last even another year. Even less, as things turned out. She was beautiful, very, very rich (the sole heiress of her deceased parent's considerable wealth) and 14 years younger than I. This particular combination, while not inherently doomed to failure in many relationships, probably doomed my chance for permanent wedded bliss this second time around.

Her name was Ann and she should have been perfect for me. She was beautiful, petite (tiny would be a more apt description), blond, green eyes, intelligent and highly educated. She had a wonderful personality and, as I mentioned, was the sole heiress to a truly incredible amount of money.

We had married during the time she was working on her Ph.D. in education. I had been teaching graduate level accounting classes at the local university where she was finishing her doctoral dissertation. We met in the Student Commons Cafeteria and the 14 years of difference in our ages was immensely appealing to me. So was her diminutive stature. So was the fact that, at 26, she looked more like a refugee from high school rather than a doctoral candidate in the latter stages of her program.

So, ok, I've already admitted that I liked females younger than myself. She was a perfect fit to my well-established preference pattern. My beautiful, intelligent, rich wife looked like a high school girl. I loved it. Unfortunately, beyond the sexual attraction that had brought us together, there was little else to keep us interested and even the sex had gotten boring. Well, at least it had gotten boring for her. To me, she was a walking wet-dream and I couldn't get enough of her beautiful little body and her snug little vagina. Even though our sexual activity had dropped off to near nothing, she was easily brought to orgasm and I enjoyed doing that to her immensely.

Anyway, one early evening, I found myself at a supermarket walking through its parking lot from my car when a short, quite unattractive, middle-aged woman smiled at me and said, "Hello."

I answered, "Hi, how are you?" without any real interest in her whatever. With her was a petite, young girl of an age I couldn't determine, but who walked the tiniest bit awkwardly and who, although quite pretty, had a strange, somewhat lost expression on her face as though she was looking for someone, or looking to see which way she would go. Although neither of them got a lot of notice from me at first, I was vaguely aware of their rather shabby appearance. Not that they were dirty, they seemed clean enough, but their clothing was not at all flattering, much-worn jeans and threadbare cotton shirts.

Beyond that, the next thing I noticed about the girl was a very nicely developed pair of breasts gently bobbing underneath a long sleeved shirt and obviously free from any restraint of a bra. The older woman asked me if I had "a couple of quarters to spare." I remember thinking, "Quarters? What the hell can she buy with a few quarters?"

Since I generally am very generous in giving money to charities, I hardly ever give anything to panhandlers and, in keeping with that custom, I told her I only had credit cards...no cash or coins at all. She, said, "Thanks," and that was pretty much all of it, or so I intended.

We all walked into the supermarket not together but close together. At that point the young girl looked at me and, looking at her more closely, I saw that her eyes seemed a bit different, quite pretty but different in a way difficult to explain. She looked at once both sort of vacant-minded and yet angelic, and she had very nice features...much more refined than her aged, slatternly mother who had no visually redeeming features whatever. Her tiny figure, somewhat obscured by both the slightly baggy, white denim jeans and shapeless, long-sleeved cotton shirt that she wore untucked into her jeans gave no indication of any sexual self-awareness at all. Still, her jiggling breasts betrayed her despite the shapelessness of her unattractive clothing. She didn't appear to have much in the way of hips or a shapely ass because the white denim jeans she wore seemed just a bit too large for her body.

The woman I assumed to be her mother was only about 5'1" and her daughter was much smaller, maybe 4'8" or 4'9". She (the mother that is) also appeared to be either a bit drunk, on drugs, or something. She looked terrible.

I surprised myself by walking through the merchandise aisles in such a way as would provide me opportunities to look at the strangely attractive, shabbily dressed little girl without drawing the attention of her slattern mother. The girl's obviously unsupported breasts were high and firm on her torso and, although completely concealed by her shirt, bounced and jiggled firmly and deliciously beneath the thin fabric. I just couldn't restrain myself, it seemed. I had to follow them surreptitiously. The thought that I was acting completely out of character embarrassed me, but not enough to stop acting like a damn fool. Those bouncing tits rendered my usually good judgment a thing of the past.

I'd been out taking photographs that day and had my very good, expensive camera locked up in my vehicle. My mobile phone is of the latest vintage and, while not one of the more exotic of its sort, it has a quite adequate built-in camera. I kept trying to situate myself here and there in the store, without being noticed, to take her picture but never got anything that was frontal or even very clear from the side or, as she was facing away from me. "Highly unsatisfactory," I thought to myself and wished I'd had my camera with me. Of course, going to get it was out of the question. Why would I do that? What would it look like carrying a full sized digital SLR camera around in a grocery store? Ridiculous, that's what!

While trying to sneak a photo or two, and having damn little come of my efforts, I was painfully aware that I was behaving like an idiot. I'd never done anything even close to being as stupid as this. I kept wondering just what the hell was wrong with me, but kept on doing it just as though I still had good sense. "In for a penny, in for a pound." The old adage ran through my mind as I appended to it the thought: "Yeah, well, how about how much it's going to cost me to find a 'shrink' to tell me how fucked up my mind is?"

"Damn!" I muttered to myself. "Why doesn't she turn just a little bit to give me at least one good picture of her?"

She didn't.

I was sick of acting like a damned fool and put my stupid phone in my pocket determined to act my age and preserve at least the appearance of dignity and respectability although I'd certainly shown little of either in the last 10 minutes or so.

"Fuck it," I thought. "Hellfire," I reasoned, "What the devil do I want with a stupid picture anyway?" Obviously, there were many equally and even more beautiful women's pictures on the Internet; if all I wanted was a damn picture there was no need of me acting like a damn fool in a super-market. Feeling every bit as foolish as I had been acting, I returned my cell-phone/camera to my pocket and tried putting the girl from my mind to continue shopping for the few items I wanted. I felt a vague sense of embarrassment but was rationalizing that it had only been an aberration of the moment and now it had passed. On the other hand, had it? That tiny little girl's strange little face and those gorgeous, saucily bouncing titties lurked in my memory. Delicious! Oh, well.

After I'd purchased the few items I'd come for, I walked out the door of the market they'd exited a few minutes earlier, even though it wasn't as convenient to my vehicle as the one we'd all entered together earlier.

There they were! They were looking at some advertising handouts posted outside the store.

"I wonder if she'd let me take their photograph for a couple of dollars?" I asked myself. Then, surprising both the coarse, somewhat slovenly-looking woman and myself, I asked her. "Hey, I've got a few bucks now, let me take your pictures and I'll pay you."

She looked at me for a few moments without saying anything.

Seeing the girl's mother as close as we now were, it was apparent that there was something drastically wrong with her. She appeared to be sick and, several times, I was sure I saw her tighten up as if she were in pain. Her wrinkled face looked very pale and drawn. It looked like she was going through drug withdrawal problems.

The little girl turned to me and smiled, then quickly stepped partially behind a concrete pillar next to the curb. The mother, noticing that, despite her obvious discomfort, turned and looked directly at me with an expression of guarded curiosity. This was making me very uncomfortable. I gathered my flustered thoughts and again asked the old woman if she'd accept a couple of dollars to allow me to take a single picture of them in front of the store.

I'd balanced the possible outcomes of what I was doing in my mind. Certainly, there was nothing illegal about taking the photograph of a couple of people the youngest of whom is no older than possibly somewhere in her teens, maybe early teens, ...especially when taken in the company of her mother, and with her permission...and for some compensation. I was transfixed with the idea although, if I'd been asked why at that moment, I would have been lost for an answer.

I just wanted to have a picture of that strangely exciting and vaguely doleful looking young girl and I was willing to have her extremely unattractive mother included in it as part of the bargain.

Either she'd say 'yes' or she'd say 'no.' "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." "No big deal." Clichés of that sort clattered through my mind like sporadic popcorn farts. My mind was obviously badly screwed up and I was both surprised and uncaring of my very unusual behavior. This wasn't like me, but there I was and I was obviously still me, despite my bizarre behavior

The old woman agreed but, while standing behind a pillar in front of the store and mostly out of my sight, I heard a faintly audible, "No," from her daughter. The mother, looking questionably at the girl, still out of my sight, got a repetition of that same answer, "No," and, turning back towards me, said, "She doesn't want to." Saying that, she moved over to the concrete pillar and sat heavily its base. She really looked like death briefly warmed over.

"Are you ok?" I asked.

"There's nothing you can do." She answered, not looking at me.

I felt a sudden wave of compassion and fished out a twenty-dollar bill. She took it without looking either at it, or me and weakly said, "Thanks."

All I could do was smile and say, "Good luck to you." as I walked away without looking back.

That had been rational behavior, I thought to myself, but then I instantly slipped back into my temporary state of insanity. Here I'd given up trying to filch, as it were, a photo or two, and had gone right back into acting like a bloody-damned fool again as soon as I could.

What the hell was wrong with me? I'd suddenly become a monster, obsessed with getting a picture of a girl? Too weird. I was disgusted with myself, but apparently not sufficiently disgusted to completely repair my sick behavior. "After all," I rationalized to myself, "I gave them a little money."

"Well, I thought, getting my semi-professional grade Nikon out of its case and attaching an image-stabilized telephoto lense on it, "I'll just try one more thing."

I got into my car and drove in the opposite direction from which I'd entered the main road, but in a direction that would take me past where they were still standing. I set the shutter of the Nikon digital camera to take pictures in rapid frame sequence at sports action speed. I planned to take as many pictures of her as I could while holding the camera lens surreptitiously under my left arm pointing out of the window. Pretty sneaky.

"What the hell am I doing?" I kept wondering without finding a good answer.

As I drove towards them, they were obviously very much aware of my vehicle's approach, my sneaky little plan seemed less and less a good idea, and I put the camera in the passenger seat. They were both standing out in plain view with smiles on their faces and waving to me whether to indicate "goodbye" or something else, I couldn't tell.

In any case, I waved back to them and pulled over into another parking space in the parking lot with the front of my vehicle facing away from them and the front of the store where they were standing. Then, turning the engine off, I just sat there, leaving whatever happened next, if anything, entirely up to them. I was through making a fool of myself - or, so I thought.

I figured there had been some sort of conversation between them that had altered the young girl's attitude towards having her picture taken. Well, "What the hell," right? I wasn't breaking any laws so... well, "What the hell?"

I wasn't even really sure why I was interested in taking a picture of her. I mean, so what? She wasn't drop dead gorgeous and, and if I wanted to keep acting weird, by just walking around in any shopping mall I'd surely randomly encounter several better looking women that I could surreptitiously sneak photographs, couldn't I?

Right?

Right! I mean, if I wanted. Sheesh! What was I thinking? What the heck was I going to do with a stupid picture? Anyway, the sun was gone below the horizon now, and the daylight from the setting sun would soon be gone as well. Did I want to break out a flash and start snapping pictures in a shopping center's parking lot? "Good, Hell!" I said to myself, shocked at the image this brought to mind.

My own behavior still confused me.

Walking towards the front of my SUV, as they drew near to my open window, I simply asked, "Did you change your mind?" The young girl sweetly and demurely smiled and her thoroughly unattractive, sick looking, slattern of a mother answered, "Yeah; how much will you give us?"

I told her that all I wanted was just a casual picture and that I'd give them the two dollars I'd originally offered. Although I didn't mention it, I'd already given her $20 and had neither asked nor expected anything in return. I felt, that by doing that, I had established a pretty good moral standing in this brief, mutually unanticipated, very weird exchange.

Again, the mother agreed but asked me why I wanted the picture. Completely at a loss for an answer because I wasn't sure myself, I answered that I wanted it because I was an amateur "private" photographer and simply wanted it as an example of the innocence of youth contrasted with the maturity of age and experience. Pure bullshit, but....

This silly answer was seemingly sufficient for the mother who was really only interested in getting a few dollars for basically doing nothing, at least for the moment.

The girl still seemed doubtful despite the shy smile she'd had as she and her mother approached me. I looked her in her eyes, which she immediately averted by looking at the ground and hunching her shoulders. She seemed to me still not entirely enthusiastic about having her picture taken.

I began to feel a bit foolish because of the obvious fact that although she was quite attractive, she really wasn't the type of female anyone would ordinarily want to pay to be a model in a photograph for just about any conceivable reason. Her mother, obviously thinking along the same line said to me, "What do you really want?"

Although I'd been reaching for the camera, I felt like an animal surprised by the blinding headlights of an on-coming automobile. Caught red handed, the only thing I could respond with was the inane question, "What do you mean?"

The mother asked me, "You think she's sexy, don't you?"

My response? The same stupid, "What do you mean?"

"You think she's sexy, don't you"? She repeated.

Well, there it was! "Now what the hell do I say?" I thought and, after a second's hesitation, finally answered, "She's pretty........interesting, actually"

Well, she was strangely pretty but that wasn't what I wanted to say. The "interesting" was a patently obvious afterthought to patch up my poorly thought out response, and she knew it.

"Do you want her?" She asked.

Same ol' same ol' from me: "What do you mean?" I repeated.

"Do you want to fuck her?" she said.

Shit! Right down to brass tacks we were! No more quibbling.

"What!? How old is she?" I stupidly blurted out.

"I thought so," she said. "Nearly thirteen. Do you want to fuck her? Why else would you be interested in taking her picture if it wasn't because you'd like to fuck her?"

"Nearly"....I choked a bit..."nearly thirteen?!" I exclaimed thoroughly shocked but, despite that . . . or, maybe because of it, suddenly growing some anatomical wood..."She's only twelve years old!??" I stammered out.

"I knew you wanted her" she said, "Let's talk!"

"Nearly thirteen!" I said, "Jesus! What does she think about this? Are you crazy? Jesus Christ! Do you think I'm a pervert? Do you think I want to go to prison?"

"Yeah" she said, nodding her head slightly and wearing a very disapproving scowl, "You probably are a pervert; all men are, really, but there's no reason to worry about going to prison."

"What the hell are you talking about? Are you nuts?" I said totally confused, almost entirely incoherent and wondering if I should just speed away before she could see my vehicle license plate.

"We need money," she said. We're completely broke and I'm sick. I'm pretty sure she's not a virgin, in fact, I think she's been fucking for a long time. She won't talk to me about it, but I think she's done it and liked it. Now all she does is look at boys. I'm afraid she's gonna end up pregnant, or get AIDS, or something."

I couldn't think of anything to say, so I sat there listening to her, saying nothing and trying to look both intelligent and righteous, and feeling not a bit of either. I was, however, beginning to feel really pervy.

"As far as taking a picture," she said, "if that's all you really want, she'll do it but it's just that she knows she's different and she doesn't like to have her picture taken."

Still completely at a loss for anything intelligent to say, all I could do was look at the young girl who had a very pretty smile while glancing a couple of times at her really beautifully prominent, (but not overly large) mammaries, the only answer I could dredge up was, "Oh."

"Well?" She said.

Truthfully, I have no idea what I said next, whether it was the inarticulate gurgle of a completely stunned, over-heated, idiotic middle-aged man, or whether I agreed and asked a question such as, "How much?"

Whatever I said if, indeed, I said anything at all, she then asked, "How much will you pay to have her?"

I looked at her and then the girl who still had the sweet smile and slightly vacant look in her eyes and asked, "What does she think about all of this? This is crazy!"

The girl's smile sort of changed with my saying the word "crazy" and her mother said, "She doesn't like that word and thinks you're talking about her. When she was about five or six her father started molesting her. But she always liked what he did to her. When I found out what he'd been doing, I yelled at him and he beat me unconscious. He said, 'What does it matter? She's crazy?' You shouldn't use that word around her"

I couldn't think of anything to say. I felt embarrassed and stupid.

"She's always disliked that word since," she continued. "I think he may have killed me if he thought I'd ever rat him out." I believed every word of that; she looked genuinely upset just talking about it.

She continued, "After a year of it, I couldn't stand it anymore and we left. We've been basically homeless for 6 years now - ever since we left him. We have a small trailer and an old truck and we keep moving around. It looks to me like she keeps trying to have sex with boys but, I think I've been able to catch her before she did anything with anyone. Well, almost, anyway."

I had no idea why she was telling me these things, but it was interesting and I wasn't feeling any inclination to stop her from telling me more. And that last remark, "...almost, anyway." What was that about? I let the question die unasked and unanswered.

"Now, I can see that she wants to have sex with you just like she wants to with all those damned boys, and we really need the money."

Stepping back a bit, she said, "Come on, wha'dya say? We've got to get going if you ain't gonna say nothing."

I looked at the girl and asked her mother, "What's her name and, how do you know she wants to have sex with anyone? And why me, I'm an old guy compared to her."

She looked at her daughter and said to me, "Her name's Lenora and she has the body of a normal teenager, but there were some early developmental problems. She's not awful coordinated and her mental age is about 8 or 9 years but, she don't seem to have no problems at all with having sex even if she won't talk about it to me. Like I said, she likes it, I think. Why you? Beats the hell out of me. If I were her, you sure 's hell wouldn't be my choice, but I admit I don't really understand her."

I was stunned, unable to say anything so I didn't. I just looked at the little girl then back at her mother.

She looked at me for a moment and said, "Look, it's not like it's something she don't like doing and I can't change that. Besides that, Goddamn it, I'm sick; there ain't much food in the trailer, I'm nearly out of gas in the truck, - we're really broke and I need some money. She took a deep breath and then turned away from me slightly.

"Lenora," her mother said, "do you want this man to do kissy things with you? He wasn't saying you are crazy, Honey, we were just talking, ok? Do you want to go to bed with him and do kissing things?"

"Ok," she said, "I think he's nice. I like him."

"See?" her mother said, looking at me and shaking her head vaguely expressing her bewilderment.

Then, from Lenora: "Why were you talking loud, Mom? Are you mad at him?"

"No, Honey, I'm not mad, I just got upset for a minute."

Turning back to me she said, "Well, Sir, here's the thing, I can park the trailer by a motel and, if you'll give us a hundred dollars you can fuck her while I wait in the trailer. Alright?"

My overworked imagination, was slowly recovering from an unaccustomed overload of libido. My thought processes suddenly started to assemble all that had just been said and done into some level of accepting it all as a part of reality. As entirely bizarre and unlikely as this all seemed to me, nevertheless, this was really happening...if I wanted it to, that is.

My home life was a train wreck. My wife, Ann, and I hardly spoke anymore. We were polite and didn't fight or argue; there was just nothing romantic between us anymore. We each spent as much time away from home as we could and it had even gotten to seem awkward to get into the same bed together.

Ann, my wife, was a young elementary school principal with several advanced degrees in education and public administration and hardly ever came home before 9:00 p.m. She was 14 years younger than I and I think our age difference, although not huge, eventually mattered to her, despite the fact that when we were first married, she said it never would. I think we probably both knew better, but it didn't matter at the time.

Our sex-life had become a big fat zero and I suspected she might be seeing some guy on the side. I'd just about decided to get a divorce lawyer and move out. It would certainly be me who moved out since, being the spoiled only child of very wealthy parents, our really luxurious home had been the wedding gift of her very rich, but now deceased parents. She didn't need me financially in the slightest.

As for me, I didn't care much about that. I had a small cabin on 10 acres my dad had left to me. I was a successful CPA and a full partner in one of the larger accounting firms in the city. My life and my needs were simple. I'd banked or invested all my income and we'd lived entirely off of my wife's money. Since money wasn't an issue between us, whose money we spent on whatever was of no consequence to either of us. In my case, I'd always just considered what I'd put aside as a joint asset.

Simple? Hell, I'd been planning to make things even simpler by retiring in the next year or so. If Ann left, or if I divorced her, all that would change is my address. I could easily deal with that!

The last thing in the world I wanted was any trouble or complication in my life! Getting busted on a child molestation charge would pretty much end my comfortable way of living, as well as completely ruin my life. About the only good thing I could see was that at least I had no children to worry about.

"No children!" God, that was a laugh! No children, but here I was, sitting in my SUV talking to a woman about fucking her kid. Too ironic to be happening. I almost just drove off at the thought.

But I didn't. I sat there, listening to the girl's mother.

"Well," she said. "Well, what's it gonna be? You gonna just sit there, or what?"

Still, deathly afraid of having things get to the point that I'd end up in prison, I temporized by saying, "How about this?" I'll get you two a motel room for the night and, if you still want to go through with this, we'll have breakfast tomorrow and we'll talk about it again. Jesus! You know I really don't know what the hell to think about all of this, ok? Are you really serious?"

"What motel?" she asked.

Since there was a Best Western Hotel nearby, I simply pointed to it and said, "How about that one?"

"Fine, follow us," she said, and without saying anything more, she headed for their old truck and trailer which I hadn't noticed before.

I followed them to the motel and she went in as her daughter waited in the truck, looking out of my passenger-side rear window, wishing I were the size of a flea and just as inconspicuous. I could barely see Lenora's face between the side of the rear window and the trailer the truck towed, but I knew she was looking towards me and I wiggled my fingers at her. "Why did you do that, you asshole?" I thought to myself. I didn't know if she waived back to me or not.

A few minutes later the woman came out and approached my car. "It's $80 per night; what do you want to do?"

Well, hell! What had I been thinking? I didn't have even $40 bucks in my wallet...hadn't thought that far ahead. "Stay here a minute, I'll drive back to the supermarket and get the money out of my account at the bank branch there. How much do you need total?

"How long do you want to have with her?" she asked.

I hadn't thought about that either. My last offer had just been to set them up for a night or two to make sure there wasn't any way I'd end up in jail. I'd wanted to move cautiously so that there wasn't some way that any of this madness could come from behind and bite me in the ass. Somehow, that had morphed into a much deeper (pun intended) level of involvement on my part. It was obvious that she intended for me to screw the little girl right away ? forget the 'negotiations at breakfast tomorrow' idea. With this realization, I glanced at Lenora and my dick instantly leapt to attention.

Obviously, I was going to have to come up with an excuse to get away from home for a night or, at least part of a night. I thought to myself, "Shit, go for all night and leave early - if I have to..."

"All night, if that's ok" I said.

"Fine, no problem. She'll like that and probably you will too...two nights, the first night's yours - you pay for both nights, though, and a hundred bucks?" she asked.

"Ok," I thought, "about three hundred bucks to screw a cute, passive, but reputedly willing, and (hopefully) maybe even enthusiastic little pre-teenager. Jesus Christ! I hope I don't end up in jail for this!"

I thought, for maybe the thousandth time, "What the hell was I doing!?" I still hadn't been able to supply myself with an answer. I still had heard nothing from the little girl saying she wanted me to screw her. Hell, before walking into the damn grocery store, I hadn't even known I was a pervert. My head was swimming in a weird stew of lust, fear, and guilt. An unwelcome thought burst into my mind, was I involving myself in "human trafficking?" "Just how depraved am I?" I wondered. Was I actually negotiating with a little girl's mother for her body? Was I actually end up discarding everything I'd always thought about myself, risking disgrace and even prison, permanently removing myself from legitimate association with decent people all just in order to wet my dick inside a cute, well-titted little twelve year old girl?

"God," I thought, "apparently so." It was shocking enough to even have to ask the question of myself and stunning to realize that the answer wasn't just, "Yes," but, "Hell, yes!"

"Ok" I said. "I'll be right back." I couldn't believe I'd said that! I was going for it, but I was scared to death! "Holy shit!" I thought as I drove away, "I'm a goddamned pervert!"

At the ATM machine at the store, I withdrew $300. Then, driving a short distance to my credit union's ATM, I withdrew another $200.

Since I lived within a mile of both ATMs and the motel and my home was located between the credit union and where the old lady and her kid said they'd be waiting, I figured I'd make a quick trip home to tell Ann I'd be out really late and, if I could, smuggle some toiletry items from my bathroom.

Ann was just leaving as I drove into the driveway. "Well, I waited as long as I could," she said through the open window of her car. "I'm going out and may not be back for some time. You'll have to piece around for something to eat tonight. I didn't cook anything - or maybe you can just go out to get something. She sounded, and seemed, anxious to get away, not angry - more nervous, I thought.

She continued backing out of the drive as I stood there. "Oh, by the way, since we didn't have the chance tonight, I need to talk to you tomorrow morning, ok?"

"Yeah, sure." I said. "What about?"

"I'll be back about 10:00 or 11:00 a.m., she said. "You'll be home, won't you?"

"Yeah, probably." I said, having to raise my voice as she continued backing out into the street.

"Where are you going?" I called as she came to a stop after having turned the car down the road to go somewhere towards the city while backing up. She didn't answer; either she didn't hear me or just didn't want to say anything more. She just put the car in drive and drove off, neither saying anything more, nor even waving 'bye.' In a few moments, she was around the first turn and out of sight. She hadn't seemed angry, just sort of ill at ease and slightly detached, two descriptors that seemed more than a little incongruous to me.

"Damn," I thought, "That was weird - convenient, but weird."

I turned, unlocked the front door, and went into the house. Going to the bathroom in the master bedroom that was mine (there were two separate en-suite bathrooms in the master bedroom) I quickly gathered up a few toiletry items: toothbrush . . ., "Hmmm, let's see, better get an extra toothbrush, razor, shaving foam in a can, prescription pills, eye drops. Anything else? Oh, hell, Viagra! Not that I'm likely to need it!"

"Condoms?" I thought as I closed my travel kit and exited the bathroom. "Naw, Hell no! I'm gonna pump that little cutie full of sperm." You'll remember that I admitted that there was an evil part of me? Well, the idea of filling her little belly with my sperm was more important to me than worrying about whether she might get pregnant as a result of me pumping her tiny body full of fresh baby batter.

On a thought, I quickly checked the other bathroom right next to mine, Ann's. Yep, she'd taken some overnight toiletries, too." She wouldn't be coming home tonight, either. Strange.

"What the hell's up with that?" I briefly wondered. Not that I gave a damn really, but it was strange. "Stranger than what I'm doing?" I wondered, walking out of the front door and locking it. "Not really," I answered myself, "Not really." I gave it no further thought.

I drove back to the hotel parking lot and gave the old woman $300 dollars to make sure she had enough for the basic room charges and whatever taxes there might be plus a little extra. If things went as she had represented, I planned to give her the additional $200 in the morning after a night of fucking her little girl. God, was I a sick, demented bastard, or what?! I was in a state of barely controlled terror, but my dick didn't care; all it wanted was sweet, tight, little girl pussy.

The old lady looked quite a bit better; "Maybe she wasn't so sick after all?" I wondered to myself, "Or maybe she's had a snort or two of booze. . . . or drugs?" I mean, after all, I'd been gone for about 35 minutes so.......?

She went to make her arrangements. I figured that she just might disappear into the place, come out to get her daughter and that would be the last I'd see of either the money or the girl. If that was her plan, there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

I felt foolish, but thought to myself that it was probably all for the best anyway. At least I'd not risk going to prison. and the young girl would have a more decent place to get all cleaned up and sleep than their old decrepit trailer. I was feeling scared, stupid and steeped in feelings of overwhelming ambivalence. Dinner and wine on a night out with Ann generally cost at least that much, so I figured I wasn't really out that much. I felt a slight undercurrent of vexation and a major flood of relief that the whole ridiculous affair was nearly at an end.

I was frustrated and embarrassed that I'd probably been bamboozled, but also vastly relieved. At least, that I hadn't done more than put myself in an even more extremely legally dangerous position. I could have actually screwed the old woman's kid, making myself a bona fide rapist of children and a candidate for prison and a playmate for "Bubba."

Getting swindled would at least finally put an end to becoming even more of a criminal pervert than I already had been.

I had just comforted myself with that ambivalently reassuring thought when the old woman exited the motel lobby and approached my car.

I wondered to myself, "Jesus, now what?" I wondered again if the cops were already on the way to arrest me. She'd probably just ratted me out to them on the phone. I thought once more about just speeding off and going home to hide in the darkness somewhere. She approached my open car window.

"Ok" she said. "Let me go get Lenora."

"Holy shit!" I thought to myself. "Jesus! She's going through with it just as she said." I was stunned, incredulous, excited, and scared to death.

"Ok." I said.

She went to her truck and opened the passenger-side door. Her daughter got out and they went back to the trailer together. She opened the door, and they went in. After just a moment, the old woman left the trailer and got into the truck, leaving her daughter in the trailer.

I had no damned idea what she was up to but continued to sit there just as if I had good sense and wasn't entirely out of my fucking mind. I was still scared to death but my prick was granite-chipping-hard and there was that old, familiar tension in my abdomen and chest. I was definitely aroused! I was also as scared as though I was already just entering prison...which was certainly one of my more predominant thoughts at the time!

Starting the truck, she put it into gear and drove in a wide circle towards the back of a motel's large lighted parking lot. Having driven to an area convenient for not requiring her to back up to leave later, she then parked her truck/trailer in a dark, remote area at the back of the motel's parking lot. I drove my SUV and stopped in the same general area but about 50 feet away from where she had stopped.

She then got out and went to the trailer. She went in and closed the door. I sat there, wondering, "Now, what? What's next?" All this while, I was still trying to decide whether I should get the hell out of there while I still had my good reputation, my freedom and, my badly besmirched sense of my own good character. After all, I wasn't a for real, actual, real-life pervert....yet anyway.

Or, was I? Judging from the way things had gone so far, it certainly seemed that I probably was.

After a few minutes, Lenora opened the door and came out with a small sack. Just like a girl of six to eight years of age might be expected to do, she came skipping up to the car. I have to admit that seeing her actually skip the distance between the trailer and car, now wearing a cute little tube-blouse and pleated skirt that only came to just below mid-thigh just about drove me nuts! Her skipping wasn't as perfectly coordinated as it would have been had she not had what seemed to me to be some minor impairment of her basic motor skills, but it nevertheless completely concealed any slight, hardly noticeable lack of physical grace unless you were looking for it.

Her body, on the other hand, was superb! Her breasts were full and firm and there they were firmly bouncing as she skipped her way towards me. Her little skirt occasionally flipped up at one or another part of its hem and showed very pretty knees and the lower part of what looked to be a very fine pair of thighs. I couldn't believe this was happening. I felt guilty, excited and still very scared. Her breasts were firm and high and their firmness imparted tightness to the upper part of the tube top that showed some impressive cleavage where the tube top she wore squeezed both of her plump titties together. I was very impressed and my stiff dick was more anxious than ever to get into this delicious little girl. She hardly seemed to be the same girl I'd seen in the grocery store wearing a worn old shirt and slightly baggy, shapeless white denims that revealed nothing of her hips or legs. The fine, firm tits high on her chest sure were familiar, though.

The lights in the front of the trailer went off and, after a few seconds, a very dim light at the rear turned on dimly illuminating a window at the rear. With the motel's parking lot lights, had I not actually seen the slight increase in the brightness of the window light at the rear turn on, there would have been no way of knowing for sure that there was any light inside the trailer. Again, I couldn't believe it...the old woman was not coming out! I had this beautiful, innocent looking, but amazingly sexy little girl all to myself, so it seemed, and the rest of the night was before us.

Lenora came up and I opened the door. She handed me two plastic door key-cards. "What's your mother doing?" I asked. Lenora said, "Going to bed, silly! Let's go, ok?"

"Ok" I said, I still couldn't believe it! She seemed completely at ease, and began moving towards the room that we were to share.

"What's your name?" she asked and reached for my hand before suddenly deciding to jerk it back.

"David" I said. "You have a very pretty name, Lorna"

"No, not 'Lorna!'" she said, "Lenora!"

"Right! Lenora," I said grinning as stupidly as I felt. "Sorry."

"S'Ok." She said. I determined to avoid repeating that stupid mistake.

I reached for her hand as we walked together in the dark parking lot. I was careful to try to stay in a path that led beneath several trees in the parking lot that provided shadows from the overhead lot lights.

I was feeling better. My dick was harder than I could remember it being in a long while, and I couldn't wait to get it up into this sexy little kid. "Pervert!" I thought to myself with considerably less guilt than I should have felt. I wanted nothing more in the world than to fuck her empty little head completely brainless and complete the bad job nature had started. I couldn't believe how tiny, how petite, she really was. The top of her head didn't even reach the height of my elbows. I wondered why that huge disparity in our height could cause such a rampant conflict of feelings in me: I felt a huge sense of shame and guilt, but it was also very erotic. The idea of screwing a girl so tiny and so young filled me with a strange mix of erotic excitement and moral remorse. The eroticism she exuded was more powerful than my moral self-recriminations. "Yep," I decided, "I'm a pervert for sure."

As we walked, the lights overhead filtered through the branches of the trees and the small tremors her steps generated in her firm breasts at each step nearly took my breath away. She really had a gorgeous pair on her. The light wasn't good, which suited me perfectly, and yet was still bright enough that I could see the delicious cleavage of her two luscious breasts. I wanted to see what they looked like. I wanted to suck them and feel the nipples harden as I played with them with my tongue.

Her ass imparted a delightfully round curvature to the short, flouncy little dress she was wearing. I wanted to cup and stroke both her ass cheeks as I suckled her firm young tits. My imagination and impatience was excruciating but delightful. I felt tension in my belly that extended down to my groin. My chest felt tight and breathing was a conscious effort rather than natural and unnoticed. I could feel pre-seminal lubricating fluid seep from the head of my dick. It was making my underwear feel a little bit wet and uncomfortable. I thought about the purpose nature had intended for it, to lubricate the tissues of an about-to-be penetrated vagina. I wished that had been its current employment rather than just making my shorts wet and uncomfortable.

God, what would it be like to have my dick buried up between her pretty legs, deep up inside her flat little belly? What would it feel like to pump my sperm into her tight little vagina? I thought about holding her and kissing her, sucking her lips as my little swimmers swam up into her womb.

I wondered if she was fertile. Would one of my little boys find her descending egg and make a baby in her little tummy. Was I just about to fuck a baby into this pretty, little girl? I couldn't wait to see the results of our fucking slowly seep out of what I knew would be a gorgeous little cunt.

"Does she have hair down there yet?" I wondered. I didn't know, but I suddenly hoped, if she did, that it would be sparse. I wanted to lick and suck a naked, completely hairless little pussy.

I conjured up a vision of her with her belly swollen with the baby I might put into her tonight. Not only was it a thought nearly erotic enough to give me a heart attack, I suddenly had the strangest feeling that I hoped it would be so and that I could somehow keep her and the baby. I hadn't so far spoken even twenty words to her, but my lust was raging at such incredible levels that instinctive thoughts of fucking, birth, babies, instinctive masculine protection . . . testosterone fueled thoughts of incredible intensity raged through my mind like little whirlwinds. I was overwhelmed with an almost ungovernable lust to rip her panties off and fuck her right there in the shadow of the trees of the parking lot. I released her hand and put it behind her low enough that it fit on the curve of her waist where it swelled into her sweet hips. I moved it down to cup her ass, with my whole hand, gently felt, and squeezed her ass-cheek, enraptured with its firm softness. Her hips weren't at all wide, but the female curvature of her still developing little body was evident and exciting.

Although there was little light because of the trees in the parking lot, I kept looking down at her bodice enjoying the sight of the cleavage of her tube-top encased breasts. Her tits were squeezed together so that there was no depth of view between them, but the slight jiggling of the tops of her breasts with each of her steps was enchanting. I couldn't wait to weigh them in my hands and suck the nipples to the full erection of sexual excitement. I couldn't wait to stick my dick into this delicious little morsel. I wondered if it would be difficult to get into her pussy with my dick since she'd already been fucked.

Fortunately, the room was at the rear of the motel and on the bottom floor. It was the very last room and I couldn't help but wonder if her mother had made that particular arrangement on purpose...I still didn't know her mother's name and neither did I know what their last name was. Not that I cared, but the thought did cross my mind.

I inserted the card-key into the door lock and opened the door. The room was very nice with a single queen sized bed attractively situated amongst standard but still nice motel furniture.

"Do you want to take a bath?" I asked her.

"No" she said, "A shower! Come take it with me! We can wash each other...I did that once and it was fun."

"Jesus!" I thought.

"Ok, let's go," I said, and started to undress her by tugging the tube top upward as she raised her arms.

Her firm tits were pulled upward from the friction of the rising fabric and, once they were clear, dropped with a mouth-watering, jiggling-firmness as they slipped out of the bottom of her small, tight upper garment. Her head was still in the tube top but, I was completely unable to do anything more about taking it off of her entirely. Instead, I put my lips to her left nipple, which was centered in a beautifully tan areola and sucked it gently into my mouth while circling my tongue in a circle rapidly around the entire delicious tip.

Her right breast was as beautiful as the left and both were the kind that had a beautiful fullness overall yet a slight slope from the upper portion to the tip of the nipple. The bottoms of her breasts had a gorgeous curve that bellied downward, but were high and firm enough to require no support. Both breasts were conical and pointed slightly upwards. The nipples were already engorged and hard and thrust up a bit more than a quarter of an inch from the perfect, soft flesh on which they rested.

They were two of the prettiest breasts I had ever seen in the flesh and, believe me, it was beautiful flesh indeed!

She squirmed in my arms as her nipple felt my tongue on it and, without pulling away from me, she reached over her head and finished pulling the tube top off of her. I was in fucking heaven! I couldn't believe it! Her breasts were soft, incredibly smooth, but very firm. I wondered why I couldn't remember how firm the breasts of my high-school girlfriends had been. Had they also been this incredible and I too oblivious to the heavenly morsels of femininity that, because of my callow youth, I simply took for granted? All I could think was that even heaven couldn't come close to this.

Keeping her nipple where it was, I put my teeth over my lips and bit it using my lips as a cushion and my teeth to supply the pressure. She squealed and pushed her breast hard into my face. God! Go ahead and give me a heart attack, but not yet, please, God!

I released the pressure from the pressure of my teeth but kept my lips where they had been and resumed circling it with my tongue. Suddenly realizing that I'd so far only loved one of her titties, I switched to the right breast and repeated everything I'd enjoyed doing to the first. Delicious! Smooth, firm soft young tit flesh.

With the tip of my tongue, I circled the stiffened little nipple as it jutted up from her very pink areola. She pressed her breast into my mouth and put an arm around my neck. I gently sucked the nipple, then the nipple and the areola together, then back to the nipple alone. I flicked the nipple with my tongue taking great pleasure in how hard it was. It was tempting to use my bare teeth on her, but I didn't want to risk hurting her when she was obviously enjoying what I was doing so far. A clear case of, "If it ain't broke . . . ."

"Oh, that feels really good," she said leaning towards me to press her sweet breast flesh more firmly into my worshiping mouth.

"You're really beautiful, Lenora" I replied as I switched from one delicious nipple to its sadly, but briefly, neglected firmly erected little twin.

Big mistake!

"Don't say that!" She exclaimed with some heat and quickly moved away from me by pushing me with both hands.

"I'm sorry, Lenora. What did I say that you didn't like?"

"I don't like what you said about me," she said. I know I'm not pretty, people look at me and kids laugh and say I'm 'a retard.'"

"Hmmm," I said. "Ok, I'm really sorry about that, but can I explain something to you?"

"Yeah, what?" She asked not sounding very happy. Her arms were folded beneath her luscious breasts and her chin was lowered to her upper chest. She was not a happy little girl, not in the least! She looked thoroughly pissed off at me. She was still breathing fast but the level of sexual excitement that I'd been stoking in her was rapidly cooling.

"Well, this is sort of hard to explain but, I'll try and you just listen to me for a minute, ok, Honey?" I knelt down on my knees and put my hands on each side of her curvy little waist. Her flesh was slightly moist from sweating in the heat of a Summer's night in Arizona and was very soft. Quickly thinking of what words to say to resolve this entirely unexpected reaction, I stroked her flanks down to the upper thigh and back up to her waist but only with one hand. The other I left at her waist gently patting the edge of her back with my fingers as though calming a skittish horse. Every movement I made, and everything I said was my most earnest effort to restore her to calmness. I was in full seduction mode.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" She asked me this completely unexpectedly. I was taken completely unawares. Were things suddenly reversed? Was she trying now to placate me? Her anger much diminished, now she seemed to be more concerned with whether I was angry with her. "What a sweet little kid," I thought. "But I'm still going to fuck her luscious little body,"

"No," I said, "I'm not mad at you and I hope I can explain this to you really good so you won't be mad at me either, ok?"

"Ok" she said. My mind was in turmoil of wanting to dive back into one of those beautiful breasts and trying to think of what to say in a way that would both calm her and return her to the sexy little morsel she'd been just moments before. I wanted to explain myself to this tasty looking youngster whom I'd brought here to fuck. I was reconciled to the idea that I was a pervert, even an enthusiastic one. While that was certainly true, still I was approaching a major meltdown of ambivalence, guilt and, lust. At that moment it suddenly occurred to me that, although I had just found out I was a pervert, I really wanted this poor, strangely afflicted, yet equally strangely pretty child to enjoy everything about the fucking I intended to give her.

I was acutely aware of her age...Jesus, only twelve years old! "When is your birthday?" I stupidly asked. Oddly enough, it was a good way to start my explanation; the situation was suddenly defused. Smiling, she said, "May 12th."

Holy shit, that's pretty close to 10 months from now! She was 12 years and about 3 weeks old and nowhere at all "nearly thirteen" as her mother had claimed! I couldn't believe it. My dick got even harder. I couldn't believe that either.

"So, then you'll be thirteen and a teenager, right? I said pointlessly, for no other reason than to further distract her from being upset with me.

"No, then I'll be twelve. I'm eleven right now."

"What! Eleven? She was only eleven years old?!"

I was stunned. Now, I knew for a fact that I was a pedophile...I had to get my dick into this little girl! Barely twelve years old I had thought and the illicit, ultra-tabooness (to coin a word) of that had inflamed my lust to irresistible levels. But now, to learn that she was even younger and with that body? "Oh my God." My mind was staggered by this abrupt change in what I had been told by her mom.

I wanted to fuck her so bad it seemed that I could taste her from where she was standing four feet away from me.

"But your mom said you were twelve," I muttered in confusion.

"Yeah, I heard her say that. I think she forgot, or something," she said.

"Hey, that's great," I said. I mean what the hell else was I going to say? I was lucky to even manage that stupid remark. "Ok, now listen to me for a minute, Ok? I'm going to tell you what I really, really think, is that ok?"

A small look of uncertainty came over her somewhat vacant looking but, very pretty little face. Standing there, bare-chested with her beautiful tits pointing at me, wearing her little pleated skirt and a much worn pair of girl's low-heeled, 'mary-jane' shoes, she looked sweet, innocent, a bit pitiful, and deliciously edible. I should have said "fuckable," too, because, looking at her, that's what I wanted most in the world to do.

She put one hand behind her and tugged her skirt somewhere in the back and her thighs were clearly molded by the fabric as she did so. She wasn't even 5 feet tall ... say, maybe, 4'8" or 4'9". Her hair was pulled back by a blue elastic band that went from underneath the back of her hair and over the top of her head. She had perfectly clear skin and light brown hair almost light enough to be what is sometimes called "dishwater blond." And I had to blink in order to quit staring at her and think of what to say.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said. "You're really not mad are you?"

"Of course not; how could I be mad?" You haven't done anything for me to be mad about, have you?" She slowly shook her head from side to side in agreement with me.

"Now, I want you to know that you're not a 'retard.' That's a mean thing for anyone to tell someone else, and anybody who is rotten enough to say such a thing is someone you shouldn't care about anyway. Ok?"

"Ok," she said somewhat doubtfully.

"Good, now this is the truth, Lenora. Just because some people may not think that you're pretty doesn't mean that everyone else is going to think the same thing, does it? Doesn't your mom tell you that you're pretty?"

"Yeah, but she's my mom."

"Yeah, she is. But if that's what she really thinks there's nothing wrong about her telling you, is there?"

"No."

"Ok, then, you're wearing a blue skirt and your hair has a blue ribbon. Is that your favorite color?"

"Yeah, but I like green a lot, too."

"Ok, do you think all kids have blue and green as their favorite colors?"

"I don't know."

"Well, what do you think? Do you think everyone always likes the same colors?"

"No."

"Right, ok, do you think everyone likes the same people all the time?"

"No. Timmy used to like me but his twin brother Tommy was mean to me."

"So, everyone thinks about things differently, don't they?" She nodded her head in agreement but still looked doubtful and a little unhappy. I continued, "And that's ok, isn't it because we're all different and if we all liked the same thing like maybe we all liked vanilla ice cream, then there wouldn't be any chocolate ice cream because all everybody would want to buy is vanilla, right?

"Yeah."

"Did you like Tommy?"

"No! He was mean to me."

"Was it bad of you to not like him?"

"No, I don't think so...was it?"

"Nope, you can like or not like anyone you choose. It's your choice. And, if he was mean to you, there wasn't any reason to like him, right?"

She nodded again in the affirmative.

"Ok, Lenora, is it ok if I like you and think that you're pretty?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Do you really think I'm pretty?"

"Yes, I do, in fact I think you're so pretty I could eat you all up clear down to your little toes! I think you're gorgeous."

She stood there thinking and said nothing for a minute.

"Ok, can we get into the shower now?"

"You bet!" I happily answered and put my hand out to her taking her small hand into mine and gently drawing her closer to me. It occurred to me that she probably only weighed about 75 to 80 pounds despite her delicious, firm breasts. She was slim and delicate, very petite. I was no judge of a little girl's possible weight; all I knew is that she was a tiny little thing with a very sexy little body and very beautiful breasts and a face that was equally strange and beautiful. She was strange, delicious little thing and I couldn't believe I had her all to myself for the entire night.

I put my left arm around her tiny, firm, little body and rested my palm on the right cheek of her sweet little butt and leaned forward and kissed her mouth. She didn't know much about kissing so, I kissed her gently on the lips again and sat back looking at her.

"Did you like that?"

"Yes. Do you kiss a lot?"

"Well, it depends. I certainly don't run around kissing everyone and I don't kiss anyone I don't really like either. Do you?

"NO!" She said.

Grinning at her, I asked, "Do you know what else? I don't run around kissing ugly girls. I only kiss them if I really want to and if I really think they're pretty. What do you think about that?"

Her face finally relaxed at that point. The little frown she'd had faded away. She still had that sort of strange not-quite-normal look - kind of vacant, to use a word I dislike using to describe her, but find difficult to replace with another. She had regular features and a strangely innocent look of beauty to her. I admit it, for all that I wanted to get my dick into her; she was a very sweet child and very pretty. She was also very fuckable and that, I thought with considerable excitement, was my next project!

Chapter 2

"I'm glad you like me." She said while unbuttoning her skirt at the waist and letting it fall to the floor around her feet. She was wearing what I'd always thought of as "little girl panties." Not meant to be sexy, they were strictly utilitarian, but also a combination of feminine and childish . . . basically just Little Girl Panties, no designs or figures printed on them, just plain. I'd ignored seeing such panties on little girls a million times probably, but covering such a nicely rounded butt, finally I'd found some Little Girl Panties that were truly interesting.

She pulled them down and stepped out of them as she turned to walk to the bathroom. Then, looking over her shoulder, she said, "Come on; Let's get in the shower!" The view as she said this was really something. Her body was not in the least bit childish.

Maybe her hips would widen a bit more as she matured, but otherwise I was looking at perfectly beautiful body lines. The curves I was looking at were the classic female archetype. There was no pubic hair above a very prominent mons pubis. It naturally hairless and I strongly doubted it had been shaved. If there was any hair on her little pussy, it was so fine and downy as to be completely invisible even from my very good vantage point. She was a petite little work of art in the form of human flesh.

Except for the shoulder-length hair of her head, she appeared completely smooth and hairless. The light threw very flattering shadows on her body because of her delightful and very sexy curvaceousness. It seemed impossible that she could only be a few weeks into her twelfth year....No! Scratch that! Eleven! I had to remind myself, "Not twelve. She's only eleven! Holy Christ, I'm going to fuck a little eleven year old."

I was still in shock from that knowledge. In shock, maybe, but my pervertedness was even more undeniable. The very fact of her childness was exciting. No wonder she had no pubic hair; only eleven years old? No wonder! But that body, how could she have such luscious curvy little body . . . and those tits! Good Lord!

It's often said that our most powerful sex organ is located between our ears. My thoughts evidenced the truth of this statement. My mind was in a sexual turmoil. I had never experienced such heightened levels of arousal.

As she continued her partial turn towards me, her right breast came into view creating an even sexier silhouette. I was again struck by the beauty of her breasts; set high on her chest, conical, but pear-shaped, tilting upwards without any sag, but still having a rounded underside as the downward slope met the rising curve, rising up to her delectable pink nipples. I couldn't wait to put my mouth back on her, to nurse from those firm, young tits. God, I was ready to fuck her eyes out of their sockets!

Because of the clothes she'd been wearing, although naked, her ass was delectable, before, concealed by her short, pleated skirt, it had been a secondary attraction to her tits. Now, seeing her naked, her butt was enough to make my mouth water. I'm not exactly certain what is generally meant by the term, but I'd heard the phrase "bubble butt" mentioned by a couple of boys as a woman with an absolutely gorgeous ass walked by. She'd been wearing what may have been a silk dress as she casually walked out of an AJ's market (very upscale grocery markets found in Arizona) to her Mercedes Benz. The fabric seemed to cling to her curves and even the division between her ass cheeks was pretty much on display. "Bubble-butt" and it had been uttered in tones of lustful admiration and perhaps even with a certain reverence. They'd been right, too. The woman's ass had been almost worthy of worship.

I was looking at another such example of gluteal perfection. Little Lenora had a truly magnificent ass and, despite her short stature, her legs were long, curvy and in perfect proportion to her overall smallness. Her waist was narrow on a very short torso. Her legs weren't at all child-like. Instead, they were long and shapely. They were easily among the most shapely legs I'd ever seen on a female of any age.

How such a young girl could have developed such a perfect, scaled-down version of a slightly older girl's body was beyond my imagination. My thoughts flashed to her mother and the odds against the beauty before my eyes suddenly seemed astronomical. It saddened me to think that she'd probably end up looking like her crone of a mother, but in the meantime, there she was, very young, perfect in body, and very beautiful in her innocence. I was captivated, stunned, and in a state of clumsy lust, barely able to shamble towards her and the bathroom, my rock hard dick throbbing and wagging as it boldly lead the way.

I stopped just at the entrance to the bathroom and removed my clothes, throwing them on a luggage stand near the closet. Lenora was waiting by the shower as I walked in.

"Eleven years old," the very idea left me speechless. I was entranced.

She stood there, naked, with a look of patient expectation I didn't understand.

"You ok?" I asked.

"Yes." she answered, "Can you turn the shower on? I don't like cold water." She hardly glanced at my hardened dick.

Ah, that was it. She wanted me to spare her from being sprayed by cold water. "Sure," I said, and reached in to start the water flow and adjust its temperature. That quickly being done, I stepped in and extended my hand to her to make sure she got in without slipping.

As she stepped into the shower with me, I was again acutely aware of how tiny she was. I'd been very aware of her smallness since I'd first seen her, but seeing her naked body next to mine in the shower was somehow a little startling. Why that might be, I couldn't have said. She was tiny, really tiny. At 6'2" and 205 pounds, I felt like an elephant standing next to a little mouse. The discrepancy between our sizes almost gave me a moment of vertigo. This was an experience beyond any previous imagination and the phrase "mind blowing" occurred to me in more meaningful terms than it had ever before. Truly mind blowing!

I thought I heard a noise at the front door and, stepping quickly out of the shower, wrapped a towel around me to go peer through the peek-hole. Lenora got out of the shower with me, which surprised me. "What's wrong," she asked. "I'll be right back," I answered

I fearfully walked to the door. Nothing. No one near the door that I could see.

I briefly wondered if the police were soon to be at my motel-room's door and how long in prison I'd be for just what I'd so far done. I figured 5 years at least, if I wasn't killed by other convicts for being a child molester long before that time.

I carefully parted the sliding curtains just a crack to see outside. My ears were attuned to any sounds that might indicate the presence of an invading police unit. Nothing. Everything looked completely normal and quiet. It was night and the only lights were those of the overhead parking lot lamps.

Almost sick with fear, I went back to the bathroom and adjusted the temperature of the water, then activated the shower's head, adjusting it to accommodate Lenora's shortness. Lenora and I got back in the shower almost together.

Despite my being in genuine awe of the little beauty in front of me, there was no way in hell my pecker was going to get hard again after the scare at the front door. It looked to me it was going on permanent strike because of the dangerous working environment it was in. I couldn't blame it, and was feeling pretty much disabled by fear myself. Even the sight of naked, beautiful, little female standing before me with the water running down her back hadn't yet brought me any sense of relaxed quietude. My dick was no longer hard, but I was tense, scared and my body felt as stiff as if it was board.

"Wash me, 'k?" she said.

"Hell, yes!" I thought, dredging my flagging emotions out of the cesspit of fear and despair in which they'd recently been soaking. "Hell, yes!" I thought.

Dropping to my knees in the shower, and reaching for the soap with one hand, I put my other arm around her tiny little waist and drew her close to me. My lowered perspective put my eyes just about at her throat's level, so I put my lips to her neck over her jugular vein and licked her and the warm water that was cascading down the front of her body in little rivulets.

With soap in my left hand, while I lowered my lips to her left titty, I slowly began to soap her back, ass, and legs. She was delicious! Her skin was perfect when dry; wet, she was slick and curvy and the feeling of running my hands over those amazing curves, over her perfectly smooth, completely unblemished skin - now slick with soap and water, immediately took my mind off my impending apprehension, conviction, imprisonment, and violently premature death.

Maybe it wasn't actually Heaven, but I knew that this was worth all the criminal punishments that were sure to follow, including my eternal condemnation thereafter. Never in my entire life had I enjoyed such a sensuous experience, and even the self-induced terror I'd been suffering wasn't enough to dilute the pure pleasure of the moment. I figured Heaven couldn't offer as much as my present and future enjoyment of this sexy, eleven year old child. I felt a lot better. The bone-deep fears of just moments before had now receded to an almost forgotten level.

"You're short, now." Lenora said as she pulled back from me a little bit.

"Yep," I answered, "the better to taste you." My poor dick had yet to regain its former state of rigid magnificence. Even though my terror had lessened to a considerable degree, my ears were still cocked to hear the police knocking at the door. I still expected the old woman to call 911. The oft heard warning, "If it seems too good to be true, it probably is," kept occurring to me. There could be no more appropriate cautionary adage than that one! What I was enjoying was too good to last. I just knew it!

Lenora looked at me strangely and kissed me the way children kiss. Her lips were closed, but she placed them squarely on mine and kissed me very tenderly. Still on my knees with my face now just a bit higher than hers, I kissed her back while cupping the smooth, soft, yet firmly delectable cheeks of her round little ass.

I didn't try to put any tongue-action into play. Instead, I sort of smooched her lips with mine. She quickly caught on to that and used the same lip action on my lips. Pleased with the results I'd so far managed with her, I gently turned her around to face the water flow from above and begin soaping her front.

Dear Lord, how good she felt. My hands, slick from soapsuds, slid without friction over her entire body, feeling the curve of her waist, the soft firmness of her tits, and the hard flatness of her little belly . . . God, how good she felt! I cupped the fronts of her sweet, smooth thighs and squeezed her delicious flesh.

Running my hands down her thighs, I soaped and caressed her knees and shins, then her tiny little feet. My hands seemed to float on the surface of her legs as they rose back up to the delicious junction of her thighs and torso. My fingers reached around the front of her thighs and snaked inward underneath her pussy. I filled my left hand with the soap-bar and lathered her cunt all over its surface but avoided slipping up between the lips of her pussy. I dropped the soap and washed her asshole.

I turned her around and pressed her still soapy belly and breasts close to me. I cupped her deliciously round, lusciously firm ass cheeks and gently squeezed them enjoying their firmness, and resiliency. They were firm and delightful to hold.

Frequently returning to the gorgeous hemispheres of her ass, I alternated my caressing hands up her back, down her flanks and thighs, up behind them into the crack of her ass and pussy always returning to her firm ass-cheeks. Soap wasn't necessary to enjoy the sleek, smooth, soft skin and the firm little-girl flesh. My hands were agents of my lust, exploring and relishing in detail all the delights, subtle and obvious, of her delicious newly nubile little body. Several times as I ran my fingers over the lips of her little-girl sex, she shivered in delicious appreciation of the sensations.

I ran my hands, just recharged with fresh supplies of suds, over the fronts of her full, smooth thighs and into her crotch area. I again sudsed her outer pussy lips with soap, but didn't open them. I used my left arm to encircle her tiny little waist and draw her close to me pressing her sweet round little ass tightly up against me. Then I slightly moved her away from me as I gently washed her between her ass cheeks, making sure her asshole and perineum were completely clean. Even though this delightful labor had already been accomplished over, and over again, she didn't say anything - just let me wash her, pliantly moving as I wished, her arms at her sides or running over my own hands from time to time as she helped spread soapy suds over herself.

I could have just enjoyed washing that sweet little body . . . well, forever, I guess. Her perfect, soap-slickened skin, my hands moving, caressing, following the sensuous curves of her beautiful little body.

I again ran my hands up and down her legs, savoring the fullness of her curvy hard but, still soft and smooth thighs and her tight, round little ass. With palms full of soap suds, I moved my hands from her thighs, over her hips and surprisingly narrow waist up to her full, heavy little breasts. Feeling my hands trace the sexiest body I'd ever encountered, I was reminded of how incredibly sexy Christina Ricci had been in the movie, Black Snake Moan. Lenora was a second incarnation of such lusciousness, but in a smaller, even younger package, and her version was not only in the flesh, but in my arms. I loved it. This was much better than Christina Ricci's movie appearance.

"Interesting!" I thought. "Here I've been thinking how large her breasts are, but they're not really very big at all. They're just large in proportion to her size." Their size certainly filled my hands nicely, but circling my palms over their rigid little nipples, it became clear to me that it was a matter of relativity more than largeness. She was 'big titted' for sure, but not out of proportion to her overall tininess.

My thoughts jumped to that Russian comedian, 'Yakov Schmirnoff', or something like that. I was thinking about how he'd jokingly describe some aspect of America in a particularly humorous way concluding each little spoof by saying, "What a country!"

Well, as I gently and lovingly squeezed Lenora's succulent tits, still contemplating the realization that they were only conspicuously large because of her small stature, I kept thinking, "What a concept!"

Yeah, it was silly, but the thought amused me and I was having a great deal of fun. What a concept, indeed. Tiny, curvy little girl, delicious body, luscious breasts, the sweetest little ass you could ever imagine? Hell, yes! What a concept! I hugged her closely to me kissing her behind her ear and squeezing her sweet, firm tits while I pulled her ass against me; damn, but she felt good!

Her breasts were luscious. I turned her around facing me and filled my hands with her breasts again. Unbelievable! Dry, they were perfect, full, very firm, skin so smooth, hard protuberant little nipples . . . delicious! Wet, and slick with soap suds, she was all that but delightfully slick, smooth. My mind quickly jumped to how slick and smooth she'd be deep inside where I was going to stick my dick. I hefted both her breasts feeling their delicious weight. God, this little chick was built. No wonder her shirt had been so busy when she walked; it had been covering a miniature playground.

I was in no hurry and I'd repeated everything I'd done as a sexual activity rather than just making sure that she was clean. I rinsed her off and began to wash her little pussy again. I was going to soap her up again to do that, but decided that what I wanted was for her to be really clean, but not scrubbed and disinfected like a kitchen counter top. I wanted a clean, natural tasting little girl, not flesh that tasted like some Proctor and Gamble soap product! Warm water was all I used, and warm water was all that was necessary.

There was one exception to that: I soaped her asshole thoroughly but without any particular enjoyment of the task. That particular bad-smelling aperture has no sexual interest to me whatsoever. My sole interest there was cleanliness. Then, she and I both soaped me down good and, by the time I was finished, I was one clean, but thoroughly horny, old bastard. I'd enjoyed every moment of her little hands running soapy suds all over my body. I then went on to complete Lenora's bath.

I washed her hair and, having her sit on my lap as I sat on the bottom of the tub, I washed her legs and feet. Well, yeah, I added a bit of extra effort to make sure I rubbed lots of nice warm water between the lips of her vulva to be sure she was fresh and sweet smelling down there. Nothing like being thorough, I've always said. Sitting between my legs or on my lap, my stiff cock kept pressing against her water-slickened body, occasionally between her legs which she closed on either side of it. Sheer heaven!

Washing her, rubbing my hands over her entire naked little body had been the most powerfully erotic thing I'd ever done. My mind was in sort of a euphoric haze. I'd never used any so-called 'recreational drugs,' but I couldn't imagine that any artificial substance could induce more of a feeling of euphoria. I'd even forgotten to be terrified of my impending residence in the state prison. That last fact itself was remarkable given my extreme uneasiness with what I was doing. Hell, I was about to become not just a child molester but a child rapist as well. But that was temporarily forgotten, I was in hotel heaven, entirely transfixed by the little beauty whose body my hands were exploring in detail.

My sexual arousal had reached its boiling point. I couldn't imagine being any more aroused than I was, so I decided to conclude bath-time recreation. Before I got us out of the shower, however, I decided to let myself enjoy just a little bit more. I put my right hand between Lenora's legs and gently began to insert my middle finger up into her sweet little preteen pussy.

"Ow!" She said, before I'd gotten even to the first knuckle. "What!?" I thought, "A hymen? I thought her mother had said she'd already had sex and even enjoyed it."

"Sorry, Honey," I said. Hasn't anyone ever done that to you before?"

"No," she said. "What were you doing?"

Right! What was I doing? What the hell was I doing!? "Well, I was making love to you. I was enjoying the feel of your body and sharing a shower with you. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just didn't expect that putting my finger in you would hurt you."

"You put in the wrong place." she said. "Jack always used the back place, where I poo."

"Oh, my God", I thought, "she's still a virgin." Shit! I hadn't figured on this. Screwing a sweet little horn-puppy was one thing; busting a little girl's cherry was completely something else and I hadn't been planning on that at all! I was dismayed.

I'd been married twice and although both my wives had been virgins, neither had had an intact hymen. How did I know they were virgins, then? You'd have to have known each of them at the time, but there was absolutely no doubt in my mind whether at the time or any time subsequent to my first fucking of either of them. It just simply was never in doubt.

Now, here, I'd just encountered a hymen where I didn't expect to find one.

"Didn't your daddy ever do that?" I asked. "Who's Jack?

"My 'daddy,' 'cept he ain't my real daddy."

"What!?" I blurted out. "Who is your daddy, then?"

"I don't know. He's always been dead."

I had to grin at that. "Hell of an accomplishment for a dead guy," I thought to myself with a grin I couldn't quite supress.

"What does your Mom say about him?" I asked. With these new discoveries, I'd even forgotten about what I'd been just about to do to Lenora with "Ol' Pete." My greatly heated anticipation of his spelunking into virgin regions had completely escaped my mind.

"So he died before you really knew him, then?" I asked.

"Yeah, I guess. 'Mom' ain't my real mom, neither."

"What!? Who is she, then?" Awash in these new revelations, I was dumbfounded.

"She's my mom's sister. Jack is her husband, but we ran away from him because she din't want him to do things with me, I think."

"So, where's your real mom?" I wondered aloud.

"She's in jail in Texas. They ain't ever gonna let her out."

"Why is she in jail?" I wondered to myself.

Who was it who said something about 'curiouser and curiouser'? The legendary and ever-popular 'Alice", wasn't it?

"So, you call your mom's sister 'Mom,' then, right?"

"Yeah, she says it keeps things more simpler."

"More simple," I corrected.

"Yeah, more simpler."

I gave up on English lessons. "Why is your real mother in jail?" I asked.

"I don't know, but they won't let her out, but she still has some 'peals left, 'Mom' says." "She don't talk about it with me, so I don't really know."

Obviously here she was referring to her aunt out in the trailer as 'Mom.' This was very strange. My confusion was increasing by the minute as I tried to digest what little I'd learned about Lenora's life.

"What's your "Mom's" name?" I asked.

"Charlotte," she replied.

"Is that your real mom's name?"

"No my real mom's name is Christine."

"Oh." It was all I could think of to say.

Several things were now certain: I may have just learned that I was a pervert, a pedophile, but taking the little girl's cherry wasn't something I'd been planning on. I didn't know what I was going to do next, but fucking the delicious, delightful, sexy little girl was off the agenda. She hadn't liked it at all when my finger pressed too hard on her virginity. She would certainly like my stiff, probing dick tearing it open a whole lot less. I wasn't really interested in hearing her scream or cry as I was pushing up inside of her, either. This had turned into a very disappointing fuck up.

So, where were we, and what was to come next?

I knew now that she was only a few weeks past her 11th birthday. Her "Mom" was her Aunt Charlotte. Her dad "had always been dead." (Funny, that.) Her real mother, "Christine," was "in jail in Texas" and was "never going to get out." Her step-dad, "Jack," had molested her but hadn't penetrated her vagina choosing instead to butt fuck her . She obviously expected anything I put up her to go into her ass, just as Jack had done, and certainly not up inside her pussy.

Also, I'd gotten the strangest feeling that she wasn't nearly as mentally handicapped as she'd been described by her "Mom," or as I'd expected from her earlier behavior and general aspect.

There was a definite aspect of "slowness" about her, but despite my lack of knowledge about the human mind, the term "retarded" really didn't seem to fit her. Poor grammar skills, yes, but her answers had been on point, concise; . . . no, not at all retarded, but something. . . . . . .

"Let's go to bed." She said.

"Ok." I was sort of put off by my recent discoveries. I had no interest in sodomizing her, despite her obvious lack of reluctance to that sort of treatment. Despite the enthusiasm many men have for buggery, I wasn't interested in it. My dick preferred more savory lodgings.

To me, what is interesting is the difference between male and female. Both sexes had assholes, so that orifice had no appeal whatsoever to me. Ok, I'm a traditionalist, but so what? Whatever anyone else wants to do in their bedrooms is up to them. What I like is what I like; call me a prude or whatever. . . I like pussy. No damn stinky on my dinky, thank you very much! "Ol Pete" would just have to do without being inserted up into this delicious little girl's belly, at least for the night. I wondered if I'd change my mind by morning.

I dried her off, somewhat absent mindedly, but still enjoying her body, and then dried myself off. I gave her a toothbrush and we each brushed our teeth. I took a can of shaving cream and slathered it over my day's growth, shaved, and rinsed my face off.

Finishing up with the towel and some mildly scented skin lotion on my face, I joined my cute little candy-drop companion of the evening in bed. No longer anticipating getting my dick into her, I was still looking forward to fooling around with her. She looked adorable and sexy. The night was warm, the room's air conditioning going full blast and she was laying naked with the bed covers pulled down, but not covering her sweet little body.

Looking at her, I couldn't imagine that she even weighed as much as 90 pounds. (81 pounds, I later learned, and exactly 4'5" tall. Really tiny!) She looked delicious, and, as I've already said, adorable. Having her all to myself to kiss, lick, and suck was already assuaging the acute disappointment not being able to fuck her little pussy was causing me.

I turned the light in the bathroom on and partially closed the door. That allowed just enough light to enter the sleeping area so that it was relaxing, sexy, and still bright enough for me to enjoy the sight of my sweet little bedmate.

Getting into bed with her, I pulled the bed covers still further down so that we were only lying on the bottom sheet. I pulled her close to me, face to face. My left arm was under her and encircled her with my hand on her tiny little waist. My right hand was happily engaged in fondling her tits. I kissed her eyes, throat, and mouth.

She had learned, from the brief time we'd been together, to kiss in a much less childlike manner. She no longer kissed with her lips passively closed. By example, she'd learned more of a "smooch" type kiss that had a great deal more lip action and was much more enjoyable to me, and I'm sure, to her.

From there it was easy to gently guide her into kissing using the "smooch" style but keeping the lips slightly open. Ten minutes of enjoying that and she'd already gotten used to kissing with her mouth partially open and it was only a matter of minutes until kissing also involved using our tongues. The first introduction of her little tongue into my mouth was delightful.

Her lips were very full and the lower lip was full enough to almost look like a permanent pout. Her eyes had an almost oriental, sort of sleepy look. Rather oval in shape, they were just the slightest bit slanted downward at their outer extremity. She looked slightly Asian but there was nothing about her that suggested Down's Syndrome whether in appearance or behavior. She just looked different. Pretty, but different. I decided that it was very sexy. Her skin, was perfection. Her teeth very white and very even. Tiny little ears that lay close to her head, but visible only when her hair was pulled back to reveal them. Her hair was clean, slightly damp from our shower together and fragrant from the shampoo supplied by the hotel's management. Earlier, it had been very smooth and shiny, hanging prettily without curls to her shoulders.

Strangely, even though she was lying there naked and absolutely gorgeous, I couldn't help imagining how cute she'd look in baby doll pyjamas or a bright colored bikini. Funny; dressed in either, I knew the first thing I'd want to do is strip her naked again.

All the while, I'd been feeling her body. I'd also had my hand down in her crotch, gently running my finger up and down the length of her slit gathering the increasing moisture she generated. With that as lubricant, I'd started to circle my finger over her little clitoris. Her breathing had gotten ragged and fast. I could feel little tremors run through her body. Finally, she gasped, clamped her beautiful thighs on my hand and shivered from her toes up. Holding her barely damp, sweet smelling little body to me as I kissed her mouth as she relaxed from her climax was extremely enjoyable. I really wanted to fuck her and I felt that, if I was actually going to do it, now would be the time. Her little pussy was drenched with little girl sex juices.

"If I was going to do it." Yeah, right. But I wasn't. That damned cherry was in the way. "Well, fuck it." I thought. Maybe I won't break it, but I will, by God, taste it.

So that's what I was about to do. I kissed her and asked if she had liked that. Her quiet little voice answered, "Yes."

Are you going to put your thing in me now?" She asked.

"No, I'm going to show you something else I think you'll like."

"What?"

I moved down her body, kissing and licking her breasts, under her arms, enjoying the fresh, clean soap scented smell of her child's body. The outer lips of her vulva were completely hairless and the inner lips tiny and delicate. I'd never had my face so close to a completely hairless pussy before. I wished for just a bit more light to see her little cunt better. For one thing, I wanted to see that frustrating damned hymen that was screwing up my plans of fucking her. I retraced my kissing path up her belly, momentarily kissing each nipple and giving them, each in their turn, a quick suck and lip-nibble. I then resumed the downward trajectory of my kissing.

"Oh, well." I thought as I kissed lower and lower on her flat little belly. Lying on her back as she was, her belly was actually concave with the points of her pelvic bone being the high points. Her firm breasts, didn't flatten out, but instead jutted upwards in youthful defiance of gravity. The mound of her pubic arch with its almost completely invisible down formed another boundary of the little valley her belly had become as she lay on her back. The tiny ribs of her torso completed the northern boundary of the valley her sween little belly formed. She looked edible.

Far too edible to resist, I decided but, damnit, I wanted more light to see her little pussy to its best advantage. There was also her hymen to inspect and lick.

I rolled over and got up to turn one of the bed lamps on. Since it only had a small bulb in it, deeply contained inside a large lampshade, I covered it with a dark towel from my overnight kit. The resulting reduced level of illumination was perfect for my needs. Her body was clearly illuminated but the room's light was romantically dim.

I moved back between her thighs opening her legs and spreading the hairless lips of her vulva, I put my lips on her clitoris and licked. Her hips lurched downwards away from me in surprise as my tongue wetly lapped the bottom of her clitoral hood. I followed her down, keeping close contact with her flesh. Placing my lips around the hood, I tongue whipped her and began gently sucking her clit.

She began making small breathy, grunting noises: "Unnnngh, Oh! Uhhh! Unnngh, Huh!" Now and again thrusting her hips slightly up, then back down, relaxing a moment and repeating the motions of vaginal intercourse. Her hands moved to my head and pulled me towards my work, and very enjoyable work it was. I moved from her clit downwards to the lips of her slit and licked a long path downwards, then back up to the clit. "Hooooh! Hoooh! Hoooh!" she heavily breathed out then stiffened and gave a little shudder of pleasure. She tasted fresh, there was a mild aroma of femininity about her, and the entire experience of tasting her was delicious.

Drawing my head back just a little, I closely inspected her vulva. I've always thought that women whose inner lips protruded extensively from the outer lips had ugly pussies. Don't get me wrong here, there's not much to criticize when it comes to most pussies even if the labia minora do protrude beyond the outer lips. But everyone has a right to their preferences and I prefer pussies that appear as just a vertical slit unless they are in a state of sexual arousal and engorged with blood making them look swollen and plump.

Extreme hairiness is an unattractive feature of a woman, at least to me it was. If a woman wanted to shave her legs or under her arms, I figured she should be fastidious enough to trim around her snatch and then carefully and completely remove even the stubble; ? no, especially the stubble! I also appreciated any efforts to trim the pubic bush in an attractive manner. In my own case, I preferred to go completely hairless because I've always thought it was both cooler and cleaner. I'm a strong believer in good grooming and hygiene.

Lenora's little pussy was bald. Of course, there were the finest, hardly visible, little hairs that would eventually thicken and grow to an adult bush but, as yet, she seemed perfectly smooth and delightful. Just right for licking. I gently spread her pussy's soft little lips and exposed the pink tissues inside. Her clitoris was small and didn't protrude but it was fairly long and extended down the slit to just above the entrance to her body. A dick moving in and out of her would be constantly rubbing the head of her clit. I had never seen this particular anatomical characteristic but, then, I'd never taken the opportunity to so closely examine any girl's cunt before, either. Nothing I did to Lenora had elicited even the slightest indication of reluctance or revulsion. Of course trying to insert my finger into her virgin pussy hadn't been fun for her, and I had reluctantly left her hymen intact. If I did later decide to penetrate her pussy, I wanted to break her hymen with my dick, not a finger.

Again, gently, I spread the inner lips at the lower part of her pussy open and exposed the entrance to her vagina. Having had a good education including basic anatomy in college, I was not under the oft-heard misapprehension that the hymen, a girl's cherry, was embedded some distance inside the actual tube of the vagina. Anyone reading this who thinks otherwise should take note of this unarguable fact.

Her pink little cherry was clearly visible and covered the very entrance to the birth canal. Placing my fingers on either side and stretching her tissues just a little bit, I could clearly see a tiny opening just at its center. The tissue itself looked fairly thin but still thick enough to hurt like hell when finally ripped open by a hard dick. I regretfully regarded the offensive little tissue and wished it gone so I could stick my iron-hard dick up into her tight, sexy little belly and fill her vagina up with a nice, fresh, hot load of baby butter.

Taking advantage of the moment, I put my tongue up against the soft, resilient little place and tried to penetrate the tiny little opening. No luck, but then I hadn't expected to actually insert my tongue into her.

Lenora lay there, gasping, and spasmodically raising her buttocks to get maximum enjoyment from having her slit licked. I ran my tongue up and down her little pussy. Then, even though they were still immaturely developed, I took each inner lip in its turn and tongued her gently, using my lips to enhance the sensations she felt and also to avoid having the small tissues of her body escape my mouth's gentle attentions.

Lenora was in ecstasy and quickly came to her second climax. Although my efforts had been successful in exciting her up to this time, she hadn't secreted much in the way of female lubrication juices. Suddenly, that changed and she began to release the natural juices that allow for a smooth easy penetration of the vagina. She tasted wonderful, no soapy smell or taste, no odors other than the clean natural scent of a freshly nubile young girl happily and naturally producing the juices of her sexual arousal. The thought that the juices I was licking from her vulva were actually to facilitate the insertion of a hard dick was incredibly exciting, even though frustrating beyond belief.

Her skin was smooth, soft, and she smelled wonderful. I wanted to stick my finger into her and taste the juices she had inside her. I wanted to mount her and plunge my dick into her as far and as deep as it could go. I wanted to fill her little pussy with my sperm. I could almost visualize seeing her freshly fucked little girl's pussy full of sperm and watching it first seep then flow out of her body. I wanted to "bake a cream pie" in this pretty little thing's pussy and watch my cum run down the slit between her legs. Just the thought of such an erotic sight made me gasp with frustration.

I wanted to stick my finger in her freshly fucked pussy and swirl the remaining sperm slickly around the os of her uterus, urging the little swimmers up into her womb and up into her fallopian tubes. I wanted to think about my sperm traveling upwards looking for the egg she was still too young to produce as the excess of what her body could absorbed seeped from her freshly fucked little body.

I wanted to pump a baby into this little girl's firm, flat little belly. But, was that yet even possible? "Lenora, have you started your periods yet?"

"You mean when I bleed down there?" She asked.

"Yes has that started with you yet."

"No, but Mom told me about it and to not get scared."

"Well," I thought, "this is interesting. Here this little gal is all titted out and curvy as she can be and still hasn't had a period." She must be just on the cusp of her menarche. It could happen any day, any minute, for that matter, I guess."

Looking at her belly, I wanted to fuck her and think of millions of little sperm cells wriggling up inside her, underneath the skin and the tight flesh of her hard, flat, sexy little belly. The thought of pumping a baby into her sweet little body again invaded my thoughts. Jesus! What a thought! I could easily imagine her walking around pushing a baby-filled belly before her. I imagined her lying in my bed with me while nursing a baby not much older than she would be if tonight, on this very bed, this bed she and I shared, I fucked and impregnated her. The thought of suckling her milk-filled breasts crept into my sexually overwrought brain. The thought was nearly terminally erotic! I felt that, unless I fucked her, and right now, I was going to die of frustration and lust.

I wanted to keep this little girl for myself, and the knowledge that, within a few hours, she and her very ill, ugly aunt would take off to somewhere I'd never know was almost physically painful. The few hours in this single night would be all I would have of her. It felt terrible. The shortness of my time with her was almost a physically painful thing to contemplate. I intensly wished I could just take her away with me to some remote island where she'd always be mine. Pointless daydreaming! Hopeless, completely hopeless.

Damn! I really wanted, desperately wanted, to fuck hell out of her. Instead, I moved up her body and kissed her.

"Did you like that?" I asked as I continued to watch her recover from her orgasmic throes. So cute; so immature looking, so sexy! Damn, but I wanted to fuck her so deep and hard her eyes would bug out.

"Yes. I almost forgot to breathe," she said. "Jack never did that. "He only licked where I poo and pushed his thing in there."

I asked, "Did you like that?"

"Not really, it hurt and made me feel like I had to poo. And, it's dirty and smelled bad, sometimes."

That didn't surprise me; it pretty much reflected what I would expect it to be like. Maybe I'm weird, or at least different from a some other guys, but what interests me in women is how they are different from men. Everyone's got an asshole, but pussies are the exclusive property of females and, as the damned Frenchies say, "Vive la Différence!" I agree, but as another old saying goes, "to each, his own." Whatever. "Different strokes" and all that.

"You want to put it in me now, huh?" She asked in a quiet little voice.

"Do you want me to?"

"It's ok," She answered without any enthusiasm in the same little voice.

"Well, I don't really think that place is where it's supposed to go, do you?"

"I don't know," she said.

After being quiet for a few long moments, she spoke again: "After Jack put it in me back there he always wanted me to suck him and clean him off, but I wouldn't do it. He'd hit me and drink whiskey."

I didn't say anything. I lay with her in my arms thinking I'd like to cut Jack's fucking balls off.

"Do you want to put it in my mouth?" She asked.

"Do you want to do that?" I asked her.

"It's ok, I kind of want to, but I didn't like it with Jack."

"Why would you want to do that with me if you didn't like it before?" I wondered aloud.

"I didn't like Jack. He smelled bad and he smelled like whiskey in his breath. I hated him."

"Ummm." I said, not knowing what else to say.

"Mom's real sick, I think. She says we may have to go back to Jack if she don't get better."

"How is she sick?" I asked.

"I don't know, but she says she's real sick and she knows it ain't gonna be good. She says she's worried about me - 'bout how I'm gonna do."

I thought to myself, "Well, that doesn't sound good. This whole thing is one big cock-up." I was getting sleepy.

"Listen, Honey, I think we should go to sleep, ok?"

"Can you hold me while we sleep? I like it."

"Sure." I pulled the bed covers up over us. The room's air conditioner droned on in the background. I left the bathroom light on in case either of us needed to get up during the night. I figured I sure as hell would have to pee at least once during the night. I pushed the button to turn the bedside lamp off and lay next to Lenora. I spooned her into me and put one arm under her head to pillow it and the other over her cupping and gently fondling her breasts. I buried my face in the soft fragrance of her hair just behind her ear. I was horny as hell, but, other than that, this was pretty close to heaven.

Chapter 3

I didn't wake at all and got up needing to pee like a fire truck. Finished, I got back into bed; the sun wasn't up yet.

I lay there for a minute listening to Lenora's breathing; she was still asleep. After a bit, I decided to hold her and feel her body. I put an arm around her and gently drew her against me. The feeling of her soft, sweet little body once again electrified me, but the frustration I felt from not being able to fuck her overcame any other consideration and I just enjoyed feeling her up as much as I could. Of course, I couldn't help nuzzling into her hair and kissing her neck, ears, and leaning over her, occasionally her lips.

At each of these intrusions into her sleep, she'd just sigh or snuggle closer to me. She was very contented to be touched and loved as she slept. It wasn't at all painful for me either.

We woke up together about an hour later. The sun was barely up and she said she was hungry.

I suggested we go to the trailer. I was going to give her "Mom" some money and take them to breakfast before going home to meet with Ann. The thought that my little frolics with this angelic little nymph was nearly at an end saddened me, but I was glad I'd not hurt her. I still wanted to fuck her, even to somehow keep her for my own, but I was also ready to just go home and rebuild my life, since there was no way my sexual fantasy's involving her could be accomplished.

We showered, and once again, I enjoyed the luxury of loving and toying with my gorgeous, underaged little sexpot. By the time we'd both gotten dressed, I'd almost gotten over my disappointment of not being able to stick my dick up into her sweet, soft little body.

Getting to the trailer door, I knocked gently and waited. "Mom" didn't answer and I figured she was still sleeping. I knocked even harder. No answer.

I asked Lenora what she thought we should do.

"I have a key in my bag back in the room." she said.

"Ok, let's go get it."

Returning to the trailer, Lenora opened the door and went in. I waited outside.

She returned in a couple of minutes. "Come in." She said.

I did.

"Mom" was awake but looked like bloody damned hell. I asked her if she was going to be ok, which was a stupid question, but was all I could think to ask.

She mumbled that "Hell, no I'm not going to be ok. Did you fuck her?"

"No, she's still a virgin."

"The hell she is! Even if you're telling me true that you didn't fuck her I know that Jack did."

"Listen! Lenora told me that Jack never messed around with her vagina and only fucked her in her butt. I don't know where you got the idea that he'd busted her cherry or that she liked any part of it. Did she actually tell you that?"

"No." Then calling to Lenora, "Honey come over here to me."

Lenora came up to the bed and said. "What?"

"Did Daddy Jack ever put his thing into you?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"In my butt."

"What else did he do to you?"

"He tried to make me suck it afterwards to clean it and he took showers with me."

"Tell her the rest; did you like it? I asked her.

"Only the showers part a little. It din't hurt my butt so much in the shower and I liked to be washed all over."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Charlotte seemed to be stunned. If it were possible, she actually looked even sicker.

"Cause Jack said he'd hit me an' 'cause you really din't want to know, did you?"

"Sweet Jesus," she said. "Sweet, holy Jesus." She began to cry quietly.

I stood there without saying anything. I felt sorry as hell for her, but there was nothing I could do or say that would make her feel any better.

Gathering herself, she quit crying and, in a very weak voice asked, "Honey, did David here put his thing into you last night?"

"No."

"Did he want you to suck him?"

"I asked, but he just held me and we went to sleep."

"Anything else?"

"He made me brush my teeth this morning just like you do."

"Sweet Jesus." This time she said it only as an exhaled breathy utterance. She looked at me very strangely and gently shook her head as she considered all this.

Then she asked me if I'd take her to a hospital.

It was still early and I wasn't expecting to see Ann at our home until 10:00 or so, so I agreed. Hell, under the circumstances, that was the only thing I could do. Leaving her in the trailer was absolutely out of the question.

Lenora and I got the old gal dressed and I put them into my SUV. There was no damned way I was going to get myself on the hook for her medical bills, so I drove them to the County Hospital. She was sick enough that there was almost no delay in getting her admitted and a couple of nurses immediately hustled her on to a gurney and then off into the emergency section.

Lenora and I waited in the waiting area.

About an hour later, a doctor came out and sat down in a chair he pulled up in front of us.

"She's told me the situation," he said.

"Fuck!" I thought. "Just what the hell had she told him?" I wondered. Visions of prison again flooded through my mind. I was truly fucked. Pure terror surged through my entire being and, my belly felt as though it held a lead football inside.

"How much do you know?" I asked, thinking for sure that he'd already called the cops.

"Well, everything, I think. (My heart nearly stopped.) She's told me she's the girl's aunt and legal guardian, that you've been a close friend of the family for many years, that the girl's mother is in prison on death row for killing her boyfriend and that because there were aggravated circumstances of the murder, in Texas she's not got a lot of hope despite having two appeals left to her."

I breathed a deep sigh of extreme relief. "Oh." I said. "Well, that's quite a bit, isn't it?" (Stupid thing to say.)

"Yeah, he said."

"Look, she doesn't have a lot of time left. She talked to me about talking to you about their situation, so do you mind?"

I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but I wasn't interested in being responsible for her medical bills, etc.

"I guess, not." I answered hesitatingly.

"Well," he said, "let me get a nurse to see to the girl while we talk in one of the consultation rooms. Hold on, I'll be right back."

He left.

Lenora said, "What's he talking about? Is he going to get my Mom?"

"No, your 'Mom' is pretty sick. He's going to get someone to spend a few minutes with you while I talk to him, ok?"

"Ok. Are you going to leave me?"

"No. I'm not." I hadn't even needed to think about that answer.

After about ten minutes, the doctor returned. With him was Harvey Chandler, a friend of mine and a fellow member of one of the local Rotary Clubs. There was another fellow with them that I didn't know.

Harvey and I shook hands, and muttered the usual words of greeting, and the young doctor introduced me to the other fellow who turned out to be some sort of hospital social worker/ counselor. Harvey, by the way, was a medical doctor who had moved into administration, he was the hospital's director. I had no idea what was going on and was still afraid they were about to call the police and this was just the beginning of it all.

They escorted me to an office and we all sat at one end of a rectangular conference table. There were eight chairs and 5 of them remained unoccupied.

The young doctor began.

"We understand you have no intention of, or reason to, assume any financial responsibility for Charlotte's medical care."

"Charlotte?" Saying nothing, I simply gave a slight nod of my head. I hadn't known her name, but since she had described me as an "old friend of the family, " I sure as hell wasn't going to say so. As the saying goes, "Mama didn't raise no idiots." Bad grammar, maybe, but good to keep in mind.

He continued on, "She doesn't have much time left, days, maybe even a couple of weeks, but I don't think so. She has no other living relatives other than her condemned sister in prison in Huntsville, Texas, and her adopted daughter by that sister. She says there's no one to look after Lenora if she passes other than you. There's no one else she trusts or even knows other than you.

"Mrs. Tuttle has asked if you'd be willing to adopt, or assume legal guardianship of her daughter.......umm, I mean her niece. Whatever your decision after we talked to you, she asked that you'd talk to her in private a few minutes. Harvey seemed to have said his say and sat there quietly looking at me sort of pityingly.

The hospital counselor then spoke up.

"I'm a deputy county attorney assigned to the County's Hospital system. Ordinarily what happens in a situation such as this is the child would become a ward of the court and be put into a foster home. That might still happen, depending on what develops from your decision, background checks, etc. Mr. Chandler tells me you're a personal friend of his and that you belong to the same Rotary Club. I belong to the Sunrise Rotary club, incidentally. I'm fairly sure from what I've been told about you, that running a background check on you will not present any problems.

There's also the fact that, in my presence, the legal guardian of the child has expressed her wish that you assume that role in whatever form you choose, whether simple guardianship or even adoption. In any case, until a final resolution has been reached, your custody of her isn't in question, that is, if you want to continue to care for her until permanent arrangements for her can be made.

"Given that and my own recommendation, again presuming no emerging problems, I'm pretty sure a transfer and assumption of guardianship would be pretty straightforward,. Do you have any reason to believe there might be a problem?"

I sat there stunned. Saying nothing. Thinking. Thinking, but not very clearly. "Her last name is Tuttle?" I thought while listening to all that was going on around me. This was happening all so quickly that I felt like a leaf in a hurricane. Still, I was paying attention, even if it did feel like things had torqued way out of control.

"Look," I finally said. This is a big decision to be making all of a sudden. I've got to go for a little while, maybe an hour or two, but I'll be back very soon. I need to take care of something, and truthfully, I really need a few minutes by myself to just think. Could you take care of Lenora during that time?

Harvey said, "Sure, that's no problem at all. I've already called the Hospital's social worker."

"Fine, I'll come back and take Lenora to lunch, then. Maybe a bit after 12:30 or so?"

The counselor, a guy I only knew as Christopolous said, "No problem, since her mother is still living and she's ok with the girl being in your custody, it's not an issue. Of course, if you decide to assume guardianship and the mother dies, it will depend on the Juvenile Court's decision. There's no reason to involve Child Protective Services."

"Yeah, ok," I said. Can I speak to Lenora's mother in private for a bit before I leave? I believe you said she wanted to speak with me?"

"You bet," said Harvey. "I'm pretty sure she's in a room by now.

The room Mrs. Tuttle was in wasn't private, but the other 3 beds in it were unoccupied.

"Thanks for everything." She said.

"It's ok. How are you feeling?"

"Bad." She closed her eyes for a minute and sighed. "You know about me?

"Yeah."

"You're not as bad a man as I figured you were. You know that?"

"I don't know about that; I think I'm pretty bad."

"Yeah, well all men are bastards, so you're probably right, but you're not as bad as most men, at least not from what I've seen. You're not a pervert in any other ways, are you?"

I answered her as honestly as I could: "Well, I hadn't ever considered myself as one before today, but right now I'm not very sure, to tell you the truth."

"What do you intend to do?"

"About what?"

"About Lenora, you damned fool! What are you going to do about her?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to take care of her! She doesn't have anyone else and she says she loves you. You've had her in bed with you and she's still a virgin, I still can't really believe that. I feel so bad about not wanting to talk with her about sex and Jack, but it just seemed so sinful I couldn't do it. All I wanted to do was get her away from Jack and protect her. Now I'm dying and can't do a damn thing about anything."

Now she was crying, occasionally she sobbed. I got a box of tissues from the counter of the room's washbasin and handed it to her.

"I want you to take her. Will you?" She asked.

"Jesus," I said. "I have to go home for a couple of hours. I promise that when I come back, I'll have an answer for you, ok?"

"If that's the best you can do, I'm at least glad that you haven't said 'no.'

"Is her last name "Tuttle?" I asked.

"Hell, no! It's Gardner. Lenora Lynn Gardner. All her papers, birth certificate, medical records, shots and stuff are in the trailer in the cabinet by the television. They're in a folder with her name on it."

"Ok. I'll be back soon," I said, and left the room.

When I got home, Ann was sitting at the counter in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee. I got one, too, and then sat at the counter with her. The counter top was a large curved granite slab, so we pretty much were able to face one another.

No preliminaries, no nothing just . . .

"David, I'm leaving you and getting a divorce. We both know this isn't much of a marriage anymore and I haven't been faithful to you for more than a year now. You don't know the guy, but we're going to be married when the divorce is final. I don't want anything from you. Of course, I'm keeping the house because it was my parent's. I've got more money than you'll ever have, although you've got plenty of your own from your business and investments, so I'm not going to ask for anything and I hope you'll take the same attitude."

Without saying anything, I nodded my assent. I was shocked but not surprised, if that makes any sense. She continued, "Of course that cabin you've got is all yours. I hope we can at least be friends. Well, that's it, I guess. You can yell or cuss at me now . . . whatever."

She'd said it all and finally it was like some spring in her had finally wound down.

"I took a sip of coffee. "Well, Ann, I'm not really surprised. Yesterday, although my mind was completely preoccupied with another matter, your leaving overnight, as you did, was kind of strange, and I did wonder if you'd be going to see someone. To tell you the truth, I've not been at all happy either and had decided to ask for a divorce. I haven't been seeing anyone. I think I want to retire and add a bunch of improvements to the cabin."

"So, you're ok with all this?" She asked.

"Yep. I'm saddened by it of course, but I think it will be better for both of us. You're a wonderful person and I hope we can stay friends, too. I'll move out immediately."

"That's not necessary," she said. Marv and I are going to Reno for a week of skiing and casinos. After that, I'm going to his home in Sacramento where we plan to live. I've given my resignation to the school district effective immediately. So, you can stay here for a month or two for all I care. You're welcome to it and I'm glad that it looks like we can still be friends."

"Of course we can, thanks." I was surprised in a way and yet not really surprised at all.

Things were happening in my life at a rate far too fast for me to completely digest. My life wasn't just a train wreck; it was a train wreck, during a tornado, smack in the middle of a flood!

She said her new lawyer would contact Tom Brewer, a guy we'd both retained as our lawyer for years and she again reassured me that she intended to do me no harm in the divorce. I said I understood and that was my attitude too. As wealthy as her parents had left her, the subtle look of relief on her face was quite understandable. She was loaded with bucks!

"What about the office?" I asked. She answered, "I gave it to you and want you to keep it. It's yours and it won't come up in the divorce. Is there anything else you want?"

"No; maybe some of the furniture and personal things in my office here, but that's about it, I think."

"Well," she said, you should take the boat and all that sports stuff. I think you paid for it anyway and I certainly don't want to take it." There was a long silence. "Really, David, I think you should take all that sort of thing. This is going to be just a secondary residence for me, I think." She was a sweetheart and it was sad that we had drifted apart. I had no hard feelings just sad ones. I believe she felt the same way.

We finished our coffee. She said she'd leave the cleanup for me because I'd probably stay here for a while - or, if I was going to leave immediately, to just leave it as she was going to arrange for a house cleaning service to periodically freshen up the place.

We hugged one another, parted, and walked to our respective cars. Tears streaked her pretty face as she got into her Mercedes. She drove off and I never saw her again.

Driving back to the hospital, I called my secretary and asked her to get me an extended-stay suite with three bedrooms at one of the better Hotels in town. She said she'd get on the phone immediately. That was exactly what I wanted. I called a moving company and made arrangements to have my personal home-office furniture put in storage and the computer and all my personal belongings moved to the suite I was to occupy. They were to coordinate all of that with, Marion, my secretary.

Arriving at the hospital, I immediately asked the receptionist where Harvey's office was. A teenaged "candy striper" cheerfully led me to it. He invited me into his office and asked me how I was feeling.

"Well, Harvey," I said, "It's been a hell of a day so far, to tell you the damn truth. Ann and I just had a talk and we're going to divorce. She's resigned her job as a principal and is moving to California with a guy she intends to marry. I'm moving out right away . . . probably will move up to my cabin. Oh, yeah, I'm retiring too. I'll probably agree to take Lenora - not at all sure what all that will involve, but I care about her and I can't see any future for her if I don't. What the hell? Right?"

"Wow." Harvey quietly said, that's quite a day and it's still too early even for a cocktail - unless, that is, unless you'll let me buy you lunch and we'll make it a three martini lunch."

"Fine, I said, do you mind if Lenora joins us? I don't think she's had anything to eat all day and it's nearly 1:30 p.m."

"No problem!" He picked up his phone and called someone to have Lenora brought to his office with us.

While we were waiting, I asked him, "Do you think that since I'm about to become a single man again, it will make any difference in assuming guardianship of Lenora?"

"I don't know," he said, "Do you want to adopt her or just be her guardian?"

"God, I hadn't given any thought to that! Her, guardian, I suppose. What do you think?"

"Beats me. It's your call," he answered

Just as he finished speaking, the door opened and Lenora appeared in tow by a different and very pretty little candy striper volunteer.

"Are you hungry?" I asked her.

She said, "Yes."

"Good. Can you wait for just a minute? I need to talk with your 'Mom'."

She said, "Sure." Then she sat in a chair with a magazine. She was certainly a very sweet, very patient little girl.

"Harvey," I said, "This will just take a minute."

"No problem, I'll get my car and meet you at the front entrance to the hospital."

Charlotte Tuttle looked about the same, fucking terrible! She had a tube plugged into her arm, a catheter tube running into a bottle underneath the bed, and she had a plastic oxygen nosepiece. Things looked pretty grim for her. I really didn't know her at all but, looking at her lying there made me sad. She was a wreck.

I guess she saw it in my eyes.

"Yeah," she said, I'm a mess, aren't I?" I hadn't expected her to actually voice the very thought I'd just had, and had to stifle a chuckle. This wasn't the kind of situation I'd feel good about laughing at anything.

I said, "I'm really sorry."

"Thanks."

I nodded.

"What have you decided to do?"

"I'm going to give Lenora the best life I possibly can," I said." You can trust me; I'll love her and take good care of her.

"You'd better," she said. "She's a sweet little girl. The Lord will bless you for taking her and giving her a good life. I wish I wasn't dying."

She lay there, looking up but not necessarily at anything in particular. The only sounds were faint conversations from the hall and her louder raspy breathing. "I knew you'd do it. I prayed and I knew it." The oxygen tube gave a faint, soft hissing sound. It was very quiet in the room. I wanted to leave.

I'm not a bit religious, only barely believe that there's a God because I can't figure out how everything could come into existence without a god being involved. Yeah, I know, that just brings up the question, "So, where did God come from?"

I don't know the answer to that and neither do you. So I didn't answer her.

All this talk about God made me nervous as hell, though. I hadn't forgotten how I'd felt making love to little Lenora last night. I was still horny as hell and, I was still trying to deal with all the guilt I felt.

"Well, whatever, all I can tell you is that I'll look after her and take good care of her. I promise you that."

"Thank you." She closed her eyes and, almost immediately it seemed, went to sleep.

Harvey met Lenora and I at the front of the hospital. He'd just driven up as we exited the front doors.

"Where to?" He asked.

"You're buying, you choose."

He said, "Right! Good thinking!" Harvey liked his three martini lunches and he was obviously looking forward to this one.

Lunch was at a very, very good seafood restaurant. It turned out that seafood was not familiar fare for Lenora so I helped her order a bunch of shrimp and a green salad with bleu cheese dressing. She loved it. It was interesting suddenly assuming the role of guardian, protector, and daddy all just suddenly - BANG! The whole day seemed surreal.

Marion, my secretary called. My clothes, etc. had all been moved, along with my computer. She was at the house still waiting for the moving company to put my office furniture in storage. I asked what place she'd found for me to live in. She told me and said it was going to be $6,900 a month but there was no lease. I told her that was ok, but was a little surprised how much it was. I hadn't paid any rent anywhere for years and usually, when traveling only paid about $400 to $600 per night. "Hmmm," I thought, after a moment's reflection, "that's really a damned good deal!"

Back at the hospital, I called my attorney, Jerry O'Dell. He was rocked down to his toes by what I wanted him to do. "Jerry," I said, "I want you to contact my wife's attorney and work with him to arrange a nice, painless divorce without any bloodletting on either side. I also want you to immediately contact the county attorney's office and talk to the guy who represents County General to draw up my petition to become the legal guardian of a little girl. His name is Christopolous, I think.

That's the first priority, Jerry, then get on the divorce agreement. That's going to be the easiest job, I think." I gave him the names and phone numbers of both attorneys.

I called my office and arranged a short-notice meeting with my partners.

At the office, when I told them I was retiring, they asked what I wanted, a buyout, or some form of retirement annuity. I asked them how they felt about a buyout and they said they'd have to talk it over but that it wasn't at all out of the question. The building the firm occupied was given to me by my wife, Ann, as an anniversary present, so it was my property in my name.

We'd all been in business for many years together and had done well. We all had a good bit of cash and investments salted away and the building accommodated eight other junior level CPAs, some of whom were just about due to being brought in as partners, so finances weren't going to be any problem. I wasn't worried about it. Whatever they decided would be ok with me and I told them so. They could either lease the building or buy it from me. I gave them an attractive price, less than the building's real market value and was sure they'd take the offer.

Since Lenora was in my care at the specific request of her legal guardian, "Mom," she and I left the hospital and went to our new home without anyone hindering us with paperwork or questions.

It wasn't yet even 4:00 p.m. and my entire life had been run through a shredder and reassembled in less than a working day. I wasn't finished, either! I called my attorney again.

He said, "David, what the hell do you want me to do now? I'm busy doing all this stuff for you; have you gone completely nuts?"

"Nope," I said, "Who are the best architect and the best builder you know of locally?"

He gave me a few names and we rang off.

Lenora was captivated by our living quarters. The suite was on the 5th floor and had a fairly spacious little balcony overlooking the mountains to the north of the city. She loved it!

There were lots of things to do. In fact, there were so many things to do that I hardly knew where to begin. What was I to do with Mrs. Tuttle's old truck and the trailer it pulled? What about school for Lenora? What was my relationship with her going to be like? Was she bound and determined to get some boy's dick into her as her adopted Mom said? Could she go to school? Was she going to be my daughter or a fuck toy? Should I keep the cabin and 10 acres or look for another place? I needed to go shopping for clothes for Lenora. We needed groceries. I wanted to sell the SUV and buy a big pickup truck and a 5th wheel RV, or possibly a big Class A motor home and tow a jeep behind it. I wanted to just get the hell away from everything and get my head in order again.

By god I was a very healthy, newly retired, fairly rich middle-aged-but-still-kind-of-young, old bastard and I was going to damn well enjoy it starting right now. And best of all? Best of all I wasn't going to go to fucking prison! Hale-damn-lujia ... or, however the hell you might spell such a crazily conflated non-word.

I knew that with what I had managed to put away for my own retirement, I could pretty much do what I wanted. After all, I'd been living for years with a woman who had inherited so damned much money that it made even the substantial amount of money I had accumulated over the years look pitifully small. I'd been investing in stocks, bonds, and real estate for years and it didn't look as if my soon to be ex-wife intended to dispute ownership of any of that.

Also, there was the buyout from my firm, that would certainly add more to what I had. I was well and truly quite wealthy without Ann's mega-millions. If only I was still young! Oh, well. What the hell?

Right! What the hell, it was time for dinner.

Lenora was watching TV. I asked her if she was hungry. The answer was the obvious one, so, off we went. Her choice? Pizza. Who doesn't like pizza? We were both happy, but I planned to take her to some really nice restaurants and also teach her how much fun cooking at home was.

Chapter 4

After eating our pizzas, finishing our cokes and learning a bit more about one another, we went back to the County Hospital.

Charlotte, still looked bad, but that was expected. What wasn't expected was that she really did look somewhat better. Whether it was medicine, drugs, or the increased levels of oxygen she was getting, she looked better. She said she felt better too.

Lenora occupied herself with a magazine and I talked to Charlotte. I wanted to know some family history.

It seems her sister was a crack whore and possibly her involvement with drugs had caused some prenatal development problems with Lenora. The biggest problem, however, wasn't specifically Lenora's but her crazy mother's life style. Lenora had never had a day in school, despite that she'd been at least home-schooled to the point that she could read and occasionally seemed to be able to solve math problems with apparent ease.

She'd never had any real outdoor recreation nor even seen a doctor about her slightly awkward gait. Her looks were just her looks, a little strange maybe, but very pretty. There was some considerable question about her paternity, so who knew where she'd gotten her facial features. Her body, she'd gotten from her mother who'd been a real beauty and, if Charlotte was to be believed, a smart one at that.

Her mother had been a very good lawyer who got drunk to the point of passing out at one of her high-flying friend's parties. She'd started out drinking and snorting lines of cocaine, but one night at a party she was totally pickled and was talked into taking a few hits off a crack cocaine pipe and that hooked her. Anyway, that was her story. I guessed it was possible. I don't know much about drugs, so I couldn't say.

Hooked on "Crack," her lifestyle changed and eventually she tried injecting heroin. She used both crack cocaine and heroin, whatever she could get.

She lost her license to practice law because of several drug-related convictions. Rather than getting a job as a paralegal, which I'm sure she could have done if she was as smart as Charlotte said she was, instead, since she still had her good looks, she got a job as a strip dancer in a club where she made plenty of money and could easily support her drug habits.

Her looks went downhill from drug usage and the strip club fired her. She got pregnant while hooking on the streets for money to buy drugs. With her life pretty well on the rocks, she married a guy who was an alcoholic drug dealer. She ended up shooting him for no reason that she ever bothered to explain.

Since she reloaded the revolver to make sure he was really damn good and dead, the court hadn't been at all lenient with her. I don't know if it was a 5 shot cylinder or if it held 6 but, either way, 10 or 12 shots must have done the job. I shook my head in amazement and disbelief at this bizarre explanation of how Auntie Charlotte had come to be Lenora's "Mom" and sole legal guardian.

After she had finished her disturbingly sordid story, I sat in silence for a minute considering whether it could actually have any truth to it; I thought it sounded like the most stupid story I'd ever heard, and I said so. It just seemed too unlikely that a smart lawyer would ever let herself get so involved with drugs that she would so completely ruin her entire life like that.

Charlotte said the facts remained and didn't need my belief in them to be true. My attitude? "Whatever."

By this time I wasn't even sure I believed her story about her sister being in prison. She didn't look as well as she had earlier, I decided. I didn't want to comment, but it was obvious that she was feeling much worse than when I arrived.

I'm sure that she was a bit pissed at me for doubting her story. I asked her about her own life and she said she was grateful I was taking care of Lenora, but that she didn't want to talk anymore. I could at least believe that; she didn't look like she felt very well, and about the time I was leaving, a nurse came in with some pain medication.

The next morning, a blazingly hot Friday, I went down to my office and said my goodbyes and farewells to everyone. The office manager had scheduled a big retirement party for me the following Friday. My secretary had emptied my desk and had the contents delivered to the apartment suite I now shared with Lenora.

I decided to give her a very nice bonus check for her many years of loyal and intelligent help to me. I also made arrangements for her to stay with the company should she want to. She deserved every bit of that and maybe even more, but she was overjoyed and said it was much more than she'd ever even dreamed of having. I felt so damn good about that. I called my attorney and asked him to talk her into letting me pay off whatever remained on her mortgage. I was in a truly ebullient mood and felt like the King of the World. What a difference from being sure I was going to prison for child molestation, and Bubba was going to be my prison cellmate, and I was going to die from being "corn holed" to death. It was wonderful! Life was good again and I was feeling more than generous.

I called Lenora at our new residence to check that she was ok. She was. The huge flat screen TV had her pretty well focused and happy.

I went to my attorney's office. His secretary quickly ushered me into his office.

"I was just about to call you," he said.

"Well, here I am."

"Ann's lawyer asked if we could set up a meeting with me after he gets back from a scuba diving vacation with his family. I told him I didn't think that would be a problem. He said that Ann and he had gone over her wishes and asked what my client's intentions were..."

I interrupted and said, "Listen, as far as I know, Ann and I just want to separate as friends. She doesn't seem to want anything I've bought or earned since we've been married and I don't want anything from her. It needs to be quick, simple, and friendly."

"That's what she wants, too, according to her attorney. Rare!" he said. "Very rare."

"No hassles," I said with no lack of emphasis.

"Got it," he said, "no hassles."

"What's happening with the adoption guardian thingy?" I asked.

"Nothing yet. Even with 'the powers that be' working in your behalf to expedite things before the kid's mother dies . . . ."

"Aunt, not her mother," I interrupted, "Her legal guardian."

"Right," he said. "Aunt; guardian." He paused for a moment and scribbled something on a pad.

The hospital says Mrs. Tuttle is in the last weeks or even days of her life. The hospital's legal representative has prepared her final wishes and their recommendations. Everything's signed, witnessed and, notarized. I don't know what is involved in the Juvenile Court's part in this...no experience with it. With that in mind, with your permission I'd like to turn it over to one of my associates who specializes in family law. He has experience with adoptions, and such things. OK?"

"Sure." I said. "That's fine."

"It's guardianship not an adoption you want, right? Mrs. Tuttle has left that to your discretion, so which is it?"

"Guardianship! For certain, guardianship."

"You got it, Buddy. Now what are you going to do?" He asked.

"Well, Jerry, I hadn't thought much about it, but I think I'm gonna get the hell outa Dodge. I'm taking Lenora to Disneyland, I think."

We both stood up and shook hands over his desk, each of us grinning just as though we both had good sense. I left feeling more alive, more free and, much happier than I could ever remember feeling in my whole life.

Disneyland was fun. We did the whole thing. I rode rides that scared hell out of me and delighted Lenora. She decided seafood was her very favorite, but I did notice that she seemed to be just as fond of everything else she tried and she was a very adventurous diner. We went to the beach and I was stunned to learn that she didn't know how to swim. The waves terrified her so we went back to our hotel. I didn't let it show but, I was disappointed that the beach had been such a wash-out of an idea. No pun intended, of course.

That evening, after dinner, I decided to take her down to the hotel's swimming pool and try to teach her how to swim. She was a bit apprehensive, but beyond a doubtful look, didn't say anything.

We changed into swimming gear, separately because I had to pee first; I got a couple of large hotel beach towels and down to the swimming pool we went. She took my arm and held it tightly, snuggling her curvy little body as close to me as she could get. It was very nice. My thoughts were confused: she looked and felt delicious; I was feeling somewhat paternal and protective. It was uncomfortable for both of us, but for vastly different reasons.

I had bought each of us several items of swimwear, but she'd covered herself completely with the large towel. I was doubly curious as to what she was wearing since I'd not seen her try on or model anything we'd picked up for her. I knew for sure that one of the things she'd selected was a small bikini. "Veeery interesting," I thought.

When we got on the cool deck, she casually doffed her towel, carelessly draping it over one of the deck chairs. She'd chosen a suit I hadn't known she'd selected. It was a single piece black with a single strap around her neck going around the front to fasten on the sides of her very luscious breasts near her arms. There were cutouts on either side of her waist with the black fabric of the suit dramatically giving her the appearance of having an incredibly tiny waistline. Even without the hyper-accentuated waistline the suit suggested, the cutouts revealed the fact that she did, in fact, have a very curvy little body. Her hips sharply flared out from the lower 1/3 of the cutouts at either side and each thigh was framed by a rising line on the outside of each side giving the illusion of impossibly long legs and thighs that made her legs seem even longer. The top of the suit drew attention to her breasts which were enough to make my tongue get hard. Certain other manifestations of the state of my interest in her soon became even more apparent than my tongue's condition. I was afraid my swimsuit might tear.

I'd behaved myself for days and days. We'd slept together a few times but I'd limited myself to simply holding her until we both fell asleep. Looking at her slim little body, sexy legs and hips, tiny little waistline, and luscious, firm titties had my hormones bouncing around like a pachinko ball. No little girl should be allowed to look half that sexy.

I wanted to sink my dick into her. I wanted to get on my knees between her legs and stick my dick up inside her belly aiming it toward her navel so that I could see her belly move from the motion of my dick inside her. I wanted to squirt my little tadpoles up inside her sweet little pussy and fill her with baby-seeds. I wanted to suck her breasts, twirl my tongue around her hardened nipples. I wanted to enjoy watching my cum run out of her, to know that my little tadpoles were eagerly swimming inside her, inside her barely maturing uterus, up into her fallopian tubes, eagerly seeking an egg to penetrate. God Damn! I wanted to fuck her and plant a baby in the pretty little kid's belly. I was suddenly as horny as a two peckered goat!

We got into the water together. I was glad there was only a young couple at the other side of the pool. We almost had it all entirely to ourselves. Since the young couple was cuddled up talking quietly and occasionally giving each other brief little kisses from time to time, it was like being entirely alone for us.

After about 15 minutes of just wading around, Lenora said she was ready to learn to swim. "Don't drop me!" she said. I promised not to.

I drew her to me and pressed her little body to me, both her breasts soft and firm against my abdomen, my hardened dick pressed up against her stomach. Boy, oh boy! Did I ever want to fuck her!

I steeled myself against the urge to pull her suit aside exposing her tight little virgin pussy and popping her cherry right there in the pool, witnesses be damned. It took a real effort on my part but, I managed it.

"Ok, Sweetie," I said, I'm going to hold you up and tell you what to do, ok?"

"Ok," somewhat fearfully uttered in a small voice. "Don't drop me."

Again, I promised, "I won't." My voice felt choked with barely restrained lust.

I put one hand on her back and the other on her belly and tipped her forward, holding her so that her back and head were above water but, her breasts, belly and, legs were submerged. I immediately became aware that my hand on her stomach had entered one of the cutouts at the sides of her waist. Her skin was soft, even slick feeling in the water and the muscles of her young girl's belly were tight and strong. Having my hand on her belly refreshed the memory of my visions of filling her with my sperm. She felt delicious...small, even tiny, sleek, and almost weightless in the water.

"Now what?" she asked, bringing me back to the task at hand which, unfortunately, wasn't sticking my dick far up between her pretty legs.

("Oh, yeah.") "Ok, Honey, move your arms like you're really swimming."

"Ok," I said. "Slow down, you're ok. Don't be afraid...I'm still holding you, right?"

She made a conscious effort to slow down the panicked thrashing of her otherwise pretty good arm movements.

She started the classic arm movements of the Australian Crawl, moving her arms in large circles parallel with the length of her body. Not a bad effort, I thought. She quickly improved from a sort of wild, thrashing of her arms to a more effective coordinated effort with her arms. I could feel her efforts begin to pull her forward in the water restrained only by my hands on her hard, smooth belly and her back.

"Ok, now then, stop for a minute." She stopped the arm movements. I reversed the movements I had used to rock her forward into a swimming position which again set her on her feet.

"Now, let's go to the side of the pool for a minute." I took her hand and led her to the side of the pool. Once there, I put both my hands on the pool's edge and began kicking my feet up and down. "Do what I'm doing, ok?" I asked.

She immediately complied and had no trouble maintaining a horizontal position with her hands supporting her on the cool deck and her feet supporting her legs and hips with their agitation in the water.

It wasn't long before I again held her horizontally between my hands and instructed her to use both her arms and legs to complete the full set of swimming motions. I faced her towards the shallow end and suddenly stopped supporting her and letting her own efforts keep her afloat and propel her forward. She immediately dropped her face into the water so I quickly put my hand back under her to support her until she gained a bit more proficiency, which she soon did.

An hour later, it was a tired but happy, thoroughly wet, thoroughly sexy pre-teen who had quickly become an adept in the water. She was hooked on swimming. "Can we go swimming tomorrow, too? She asked.

"You bet," I said. Whenever you want to, just make sure I'm always with you, ok? Mentally, I made a note to have a swimming pool built at the cabin.

Despite that she weighed considerably less than a hundred pounds, walking down the hall to our rooms, I enjoyed the delightful view of her round little cheeks and the delicious movements they made as she walked down the hall slightly ahead of me. Her legs were beautiful, shapely thighs with a little gap at their tops just below her pussy.

Her calves were trim and muscular. I'd often heard the beauty of a young girl described as "coltish." There was nothing about Lenora that might lead anyone to think of a young horse with long spindly legs; this little girl's body was a miniaturized work of female perfection. As we continued up to our door, I decided for maybe the hundredth time that I wanted to fuck her. Maybe, by God, tonight I'd do just that. My poor neglected dick was making his wishes very apparent as she happily skipped into the room and jumped up on the bed grabbing the TV remote as she settled back on the pillows she'd previously arranged before we went swimming.

I went to the bathroom and took my wet swimming trunks off. I put a pair of Bermuda shorts on without bothering with any underwear.

I walked into the bedroom area and ordered a double scotch on the rocks for myself and a coke for Lenora as I watched her enjoying whatever she had on the television. Her legs were spread apart with one foot drawn up close to her butt cheek, the knee splayed away from her body. The fabric covering the flat of her groin, the cuntal plain area, so to speak, stretched tight over her sweet little puss. Looking at it, I visualized just where the entrance to her vagina was and imagined what it would look like with my dick disappearing into her sweet little body. I looked at her belly and calculated how far up her my dick would penetrate fully sheathed inside of her. Goddamn but I was horny!

I quickly picked up the phone again and called room service again. This time I ordered a bottle of Lagavulin scotch whisky and an insulated ice bucket filled with ice. I didn't want to bother with the dinky little bottles in the suite's small refrigerator. And besides that, they didn't have my favorite scotch whisky in there anyway.

I figured it was going to be a tough night and I needed to install an alcohol buffer between my brain and my rampant dick or else I'd finally end up doing what I'd so far been able to resist for nearly three hellishly tortuous weeks.

I was on the cusp of a dilemma, to fuck or not to fuck. My dick had its own obvious agenda; my brain screaming that I should listen to my dick also told me to avoid unleashing my perverted lusts on a sweet, innocent little girl. An innocent little girl whose nearly hairless pussy I'd previously tongued and tasted. The memory of having my cheeks cuddled by the flawlessly soft skin of her inner thighs raged in my head. I thought back to the first night, the only night I'd enjoyed her body since I'd had her in my life, actually, in my complete control.

The memories were tantalizing and excruciatingly frustrating. The sounds she had made as I probed the entrance to her vagina with my tongue, how she'd thrust her pelvis up into my face as my tongue gently flicked her little clitoris, how the flesh of her hips had felt in my hands as I pulled her pussy hard into my mouth, the soft smoothness of her waist and upper hips as I'd kissed her belly, kissed her pussy lips and explored the length and depth of her slit with my tongue. I decided I was going to fuck her for sure!

There was a knock at the door. "Room service," a voice faintly announced. "Thank God," I thought.

I opened the door and gave the kid a hundred dollar bill as I quickly ushered him out of the room. It was obvious that he'd have preferred to tarry just a bit to get a little more time to check out the tasty little morsel relaxing in an unconsciously seductive sprawl on the bed covers, but out his sorry little ass went as soon as I could manage it. He'd just have to make do with the money, which, I later learned, since it was billed to my room, and the little fucker didn't mention that I'd paid him cash, he pocketed the money in its entirety. I didn't know that at the time, and when I finally realized it, I decided I really didn't give a shit. However, I do hope he went home that night with an achy pair of balls and no relief but whatever he could derive from his own company. Greedy, horny little bastard, anyway.

I wasn't thinking at the time about him anyway, at least not beyond the desire to get rid of him as quickly as possible.

I opened the scotch whisky and poured myself about 3 fingers of single malt over three cubes of ice, picked up the glass and emptied it down my throat before the ice ever had a chance to cool the liquor. "Jesus H," I thought to myself, I need a cold shower like right now!" I decided for the two hundredth time that I wasn't going to fuck Lenora after all. I was going to get my sorry ass into the shower, have a couple more stiff drinks and go to sleep...with a dry dick. Depressing thought, but God, did I feel noble as I walked back into the bathroom and stepped into an icy cold shower! I thought my dick would shrivel up into the size of a small peanut as the cold water ran between my legs and damn near froze my tormented, socially deprived, under-loved little buddy. Poor "Ol Pete" just sort of shrivled up between my legs feeling unloved and alone. I could certainly sympathize with him.

As I stood there, the cold water showering onto my head and running down my back like glacier water, I cursed myself for neglecting to bring a second glass of scotch into the bathroom with me. Damn, it would be so nice to be able to just reach out of the shower and take a little nip to help take my mind of the sweet, soft little fluff lounging so sexily in the next room. I decided I could take it and just stood there, occasionally turning my ever more chilled body to let the water freeze me evenly front-to-back, top-to-bottom. At least I didn't have to worry about running out of hot water this way.

Just as I was about to call it quits and admit that I was whipped by rapidly approaching hypothermia, the bathroom door opened and Lenora came in.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Algebra!" I answered.

"Silly!" She said. "I like algebra."

"What!" I thought, "She likes algebra?"

Before I could give that little shocker any more thought, she said. "I'm getting in, too." And in she quickly came with a burst of breathless little squeals from the cold water of the second shower head which was also pouring icy water into the shower chamber.

I laughed in spite of my chattering teeth and took her into my arms lifting her so that her delicious breasts were just about mouth level and looked up at her as she continued to make little noises of surprised distress. I couldn't tell if she was about to cry or if she was laughing. Maybe she was just shivering. I set her to one side, shielding her as best I could from the showerhead most effectively bombarding her and turned it entirely off. I then restarted it, adding a modicum of heated water into which she gratefully and immediately stepped giving me a look was either reproach or shock. I couldn't tell which.

I knelt down and took her into my arms again while on my knees. "Better?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "That was cold. Do you like it that cold?"

"Sometimes," I said.

"Why?" She asked.

"It's a guy kind of thing."

Silence. She turned around in the now comfortably warm water. I remembered my ass was about to freeze off so I turned and added some warm water to the icy stream that I'd somehow forgotten was about to render me into a frozen cube.

I handed her a bar of soap and begin to soap myself. I decided again not to fuck her.

"Do you still lov . . . Do you still like me?" She asked, then, despite obvious efforts not to, she began to cry.

For the third time in the space of a couple of minutes, I was back on my knees holding her naked, wet little body close to me. "Of course I do," I said. "Don't you know that I do?" I asked. I suddenly realized she had the distinct smell of alcohol on her breath.

"No."

"Why?"

"You don't kiss me anymore and you shower alone. You don't want me anymore and I want to go home to live with my aun... my mom, with my ...." She couldn't continue because she was sobbing and gulping trying to talk.

Well, I wasn't about to embark on an attempt to explain my heroic efforts to nobly restrain myself from further sexual depredations on her youthful sex. So, that left me with nothing to do but pet her, gently soaping her back and legs with the bar of soap as I continued to hold her and kiss her cheeks and her neck as I told her I really did love her the most convincing, sincere tones I could muster. I changed my mind again. "I want to fuck her," I thought to myself for maybe the thousandth time.

She stopped crying and kissed me on the lips. I began with the innocent smooch type of kiss we'd often shared on our first night together, but she quickly inserted the tip of her little tongue and I had no choice but to reciprocate in kind.

I turned her around and finished soaping her then rinsed her off and carried her out of the shower, being careful not to fall and not only hurt her, but also to avoid killing myself in circumstances that would certainly hit the home town newspaper.

Once outside the shower, I dried us both off, all the while telling her again and again that I really did love her, that she was beautiful, and that I loved her. She wasn't crying anymore but she didn't look as though I'd really convinced her.

I glanced over at the bottle of scotch and the ice bucket. I knew how much I'd poured in the single drink I'd had and the level of liquor remaining in the bottle was at least a couple of inches lower than I'd left it.

"How much of that stuff did you drink?" I asked.

"Just a sip, at first," she said. I looked at her. "It was awful," she said.

"Umm hmm." I quietly replied, looking again at the level of the remaining scotch.

"So I poured it into my coke and that made it a little better."

"Oh," I said.

"You were in the shower so long I did it again," she said.

"Oh," I said again. "Did you like it?"

"Not at first," she answered, "but it made my lips all buzzy and I felt kind of tingly all over."

I nodded, understanding completely. I remembered as a kid when my buddies and I had gotten some beer the first sensation I noticed was a strange tingling of my lips. I knew exactly what she had felt.

"Are you ok?" I asked. She looked as though she was getting even more of a buzz as the minutes passed?

"Yeah," she said, "I drank two glasses-full pretty fast."

Obviously, that was just before she stepped into the shower about 5 minutes earlier because it was apparent that the alcohol she'd drunk was still being metabolized into her bloodstream. I wondered how much more it was going to affect her.

"So, you drank two glasses of whisky and coke?" I asked.

"Yeah. And then one more."

"Three glasses?" I asked incredulously?

"Yeah, three glasses," she slurred. "Are you mad at me?" She mumbled looking as though she was going to start again with the waterworks. Her body was still absorbing the alcohol she'd had and the effects were becoming more and more apparent.

"No, no." I said. "I'm not mad." Chuckling a bit, I asked, "What made you think to do it?"

"I don't know. I was sad. I was scared and I thought you were going to get rid of me. So I wanted to do something to make you think about me.

"I always think about you," I truthfully said.

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Good things?"

"Well, hell, that would depend on whom one asked, wouldn't it?" I thought to myself.

"Pleasant things," I temporized remembering my sex-drenched memories and fantasies of her.

"Nice things?" She asked.

"I hope so," more temporizing. I didn't want to tell her what I'd actually had in mind. Just talking . . . dancing around the point without actually saying the words was getting my hormones all suited up for the big game again. The little stormers were ready to exercise their very reason for existence, an egg hunt! It mattered not the slightest to them where the hunting grounds might be; even the virgin body of a little not quite twelve year old girl was fine with them. All the better, since there would be no competition from other males . . . sweet virgin pussy! Damn! Was I a pervy bastard or what?! Did I really want to pump a baby into her belly? Holy shit, NO! But still, the idea was a turn on for some perverted reason. What the hell had I become?

"Kiss me again."

Once more, I decided I was going to fuck her.

I put my hands on her cheeks and kissed her gently but, thoroughly. Her sweet young breath tasted of a delightful mixture of freshly drunk whiskey, coke, toothpaste, and her own flavors. She was delicious.

I figured, with her having gotten slightly drunk, well, ok, pretty damned good and drunk, that would take the edge off the pain of getting her little cherry popped. Once again, I envisioned my dick stuck far up into her pretty, little belly, deep up inside her peach-fuzz-down covered little puss. Once again, I was fantasizing filling her vagina up with a pent up load of baby butter. God knows I'd saved enough of it up for her!

I picked her up and laid her on the bed then I thought, "If I pop her cherry, there's going to be blood. Better get a towel."

Lenora propped herself up on her elbows, her legs slightly parted and smiled at me as I went into the bathroom to get a towel.

She hadn't moved when I returned with the means of soaking up the virgin blood I planned to paint on it with my rock hard dick. Better there than on the sheet, it seemed to me. Also, I didn't want either of us to have to sleep on sheets soaked with the semen that would drain from her newly torn, freshly fucked little cunt. That was another thought that excited me for some reason. The idea of my sperm seeping out of her freshly violated little puss was a turn on for me.

I pulled the covers down from the other side of the bed and spread a triple layer of towels over the proposed field of battle, roughly estimated to be an area large enough to fit under wherever I may have moved her little ass as I fucked her to my heart's much overdue desire.

This took but a moment and I quickly went to the other side of the bed where she lay and picked her naked little body up in my arms. I carried her around and laid her on the towels.

"What are these for?" She asked.

"So we won't make a mess on the sheets while we are loving each other," I answered.

She made a cute, puzzled little moue as though to resent the idea that she was likely to make any sort of a mess in bed. I didn't bother to explain it. I figured she'd know soon enough.

I turned the lights off with the exception of the dresser lights in the makeup area, which very thoughtfully had dimmer switches allowing me to raise the light to a level adequate for me to see her clearly. I wanted to get another good look at the little hymen I intended to destroy. I thought I'd see if I could tongue her to an orgasm before I stuck my dick into her tight little pussy. My thoughts raced from doing one thing to her off to something else and, then something else would occur to me. If I could perform even half the things I was fantasizing doing to her before I shot her belly full of semen I'd have to be a goddamned superman. The thought occurred to me that as long as I could perpetrate my crimes on her undetected by the law, she was mine permanently. The thought thrilled me as I got onto the bed with her and took her into my arms.

She was soft and warm. Her skin, fragrant from the shower, felt more smooth than velvet or silk. She made a little giggle as I put my tongue into her ear and gently blew my warm breath into it. Her little shoulder came up and she tried to tuck her head into it but only succeeded in pressing her ear closer to my lips. I kissed her cheek and moved to her closed eyelids kissing them as I moved my lips closer to hers.

I took her lower lip between mine and sucked it gently as I traced the soft surface with my tongue. Hardly anyone seems to know that a female's vaginal lips are much the same as the lips of their mouths. Both are rich in nerve development and blood supply. Even their coloration is similar, indeed, when reconstructing damaged lips of female patients, "plastic surgeons" have occasionally used tissue from the vulva to replace damaged tissue around their patient's mouth with completely satisfactory results. But, that sort of thing wasn't at all what I was thinking of at the moment.

Her little tongue ventured out beyond her teeth and met mine. We let the tips of our tongues tantalize one another for a bit and I left her mouth for other pastures. I had become a grazing animal, a goat maybe or, a satyr even. My dick was dripping the clear fluid that facilitates entry into a nubile female or, in this particular case a female nearly old enough to generate an egg. If her secondary sexual development was any indication, breasts, curvy body, etc. she might be on the very verge of becoming a mother tonight. My thoughts were entirely focused on enjoying her body and giving her pleasure. Her imminent defloration was my ultimate goal of the night but until I actually sank my hard shaft into her, all I wanted to do was to enjoy her and give her as much pleasure as I could in the process.

So far, to that end, things were progressing nicely

I moved to her neck, turned her head towards me slightly and nuzzled her other ear. This time she didn't cringe or resist the sensations that sent a quick shiver of bumps across her skin. Instead, she pressed her ear close to my lips and moaned softly. '' My hands had meanwhile not been idle. I had one arm sort of under and around her and the other cradling her breast. My thumb and forefinger softly squeezing and twisting her nipple, tweaking it with gentle tugs. It responded sweetly by becoming very stiff as it filled with blood. She was becoming very excited. I decided to speed things along in that direction and moved my arm from beneath her which allowed me to scoot down her body enough to allow me to use my mouth on her breasts, both of them, one in its turn after the other. Her legs began rubbing together and she made occasional little thrusts with her pelvis.

"Well," I thought, "now, that's a good sign!" I moved my right hand down to her crotch and put my middle finger on the outer lips of her little pussy. Yep, there was just the faintest trace of some of her lubricating moisture beginning to seep out to the surface. There weren't any real pubic hairs surrounding her cunt yet, just a very soft, blond down. I liked that. It gave me a nice view of her pussy and mouthing her sex without hair interfering was extraordinarily pleasant.

I licked my thumb and gently began to massage her little button. My middle finger probed down the length of her soft, silky, slick little slit garnering and gathering the girl honey she was secreting. As it became more abundant, I ran my finger up inside the tiny inner lips and gathered a bit of it on the tip of my finger and put it into my mouth.

I hadn't been aware of it, but she'd moved a pillow under her head to observe the activities that were proceeding in the various locations of her body I'd been enjoying, tasting, grazing like a goat as it were. All I'd really been aware of from her point of view was the occasional gasp or moan of pleasure and the gradually increasing trembling of her thighs.

"Why did you do that?" She asked me.

"What?" I asked raising my mouth from a deliciously hardened little nipple just enough that my lips brushed it's tip.

"Why did you put your finger in your mouth? Were you finding out what I taste like?"

"Yes and no," I answered. I already knew how you taste; remember our first night together?"

"Yes."

"Well, you taste delicious, and I'm going to taste you a lot more tonight."

"Oh!" She exclaimed breathily as I nipped her nipple with my teeth.

"Is that ok?" I asked.

"What, biting me or tasting me?"

"Both." I chuckled as I bent to resume my oral ministrations on the other sweet little tit.

"Yeah, I guess so." She said.

"Don't you like it?" I asked.

"Yes, but your teeth scare me when you bite me there."

"Does it feel good?"

"No, but I like it a little, I think."

I did it again with the titty currently receiving my best efforts.

"Oh!" She jumped a bit as she uttered her surprised little sound.

"That hurt." She said.

"Shall I stop doing it?" I asked.

"No, just don't talk about it. If I don't know you're going to do it I don't get all scared and it gives me good chills or something."

I couldn't think of anything useful to say, so I just moved on down her body, kissing enjoying the firm resilience of her flesh and her soft, smooth skin. My finger and thumb had kept themselves busy in her soft, dampening little quim and she was fairly well soaked with little girl honey. I moved smoothly down her body to the juncture of her soft, pretty thighs and began kissing them and her mons. I varied that with an occasional kiss on her lower abdomen and even ventured up to her navel from time to time, giving it a thorough tonguing on each visit. From the evidence of her rapid breathing, frequent little gasps and moans as well as the now rhythmic undulation of her pelvis in a distinctly sexual manner, not to mention the continued seepage of her sex nectar, things were going just as I had hoped they would.

I moved between her thighs and immediately captured her clit with my lips. Instantly I put the tip of my tongue at the small face of the hood of her clitoris and tried to tongue the organ itself while still ensconced in its soft little bed of sweet, tender little girl flesh. The reaction was instantaneous and dramatic. Her legs first flew open to their widest extension and she began to shudder with her entire body. Her legs stiffened and she brought them together and bent her knees trapping my face exactly where it was happy to be held captive.

I took this opportunity to investigate her cherry. The hymen felt soft and stretched inward with very little pressure. And there was my target, the small opening to her velvety-liquid center in the middle of sweet, soft tissue. I was going to puncture that little pink impediment with my dick. The thought sent a frisson of excitement through me.

From earlier investigations, I had already learned that it was very sensitive, so my follow-up investigation tonight had been very careful not to cause her any pain. I wanted to see it, though, so I moved up her body and gathered her to me in a close embrace, kissing her and telling her how sweet and how pretty she was. I told her I loved her and would soon give her new feelings but first I wanted to just look at her.

She had no objection; in fact she didn't seem to have much left to give. Well, she did, of course but, she didn't yet know just what it was that she was about to give me. She just lay there panting and trembling. Her pelvis was still moving in an unmistakable sexual way. While she was in this condition, still in the last vaginal pulsations of her orgasm or, maybe in the afterglow, I got up and adjusted the lights a bit brighter.

I again crawled between her now widely spread thighs and opened the lips of her sex. Using my fingers I pried open her outer petals rendering the entrance to her vagina very visible and there I saw her hymen with its pretty pink coloration and the tiny little opening in its center.

Many men are completely ignorant as to where a girl's virgin cherry is located. It reminds me of what I had heard about early churchmen who, because of the Biblical text stating that Eve was created from Adam's rib, believed that men had one rib less than women. How dumb was that!? Why the hell didn't they ever bother to count the ribs on a skeleton? Stupid!

Anyway, the still intact hymen of a virgin is located at the very mouth of the vagina barring entrance until a finger, a penis, a bicycle's frame, gymnastics or, whatever the hell else might get there first and tears it, forever opening the girl to sex for the remainder of her life. Any man who thinks a girl's cherry is even an inch deep within the vagina has either never had a virgin, too shy to ask a female, or too stupid to look into it (pun intended).

Well, there it was, the obstacle my poor lonely prick literally throbbed to conquer and breach entirely. I noted that it didn't appear to be one of those leather tough, 1/8 inch thick membranes that make a crowbar a more suitable instrument of penetration than a mere stiff dick. I was glad about that. I wanted to bust that little cherry, but giving my little candy-drop a lot of pain wasn't my idea of a good time either.

Lenora's breathing became a bit more ragged and gaspy. Her hips had almost entirely ceased their sexual undulations but her thighs were in a constant shiver. Her muscles were trembling non-stop. It was time to move things along a bit further, I decided.

As I moved my face close to her now open vagina, the lips still held in place by my fingers, I could feel from the movement of her body that she had used her arms to sit in a somewhat more upright position and was now propped up on her elbows, which gave her a better vantage point to see what I was doing to her down there. That was fine with me. I stuck my tongue as deeply into her vagina as her cherry would permit, which wasn't very far. The depth my tongue could actually reach was an additional limiting factor. My point, however, was that I wanted to lick her cherry while she still had it. Apparently it felt good to her because she pressed her pelvis forward pushing her pussy closer to me. Now, it certainly seemed to me, was the time to put my dick into this sweet little fluff. Now it was my dick's turn.

"Lenora, I'm going to get up and ask you to do something for me, ok?"

"Are you stopping? I don't want to stop."

"We won't, but I want you to do something for me, ok?"

"Ok."

I got to my knees and moved closer to the top of her body. My dick was sticking out like a poker, throbbing with the rhythm of my heart. I was about to do the big dirty with a little girl and I was very excited just to think of what I was about to do. The taboo against fucking underage little girls was part of the excitement. This was forbidden fruit and I was about to pluck (fuck) it. The very idea of sticking my prick into the vagina of this little girl, this child was making me literally drunk with lust.

"Lenora, Honey, put my dick into your mouth and get me really wet, ok?"

"Ok." She willingly and without hesitation mouthed my stiff shaft and licked it.

"Make sure it's nice and wet, Honey," I said.

She tongued it for all she was worth and, when I pulled back it glistened with her saliva to a little more than four inches of its length. "That should do it," I thought.

I moved down her body, lifted a leg and knelt between her thighs. I put my hands underneath her thighs and gently pulled her pussy towards its soon to be conquering dragon. My heart was in my throat...I was about to fuck a little girl...a kid really. I was going to put my dick into a beautiful child and my conscience was off on vacation somewhere.

Vacation for my conscience, heaven for my dick. Seemed like a pretty good arrangement to me.

I put the head of my dick up into her little notch enjoying the sight of her outer lips parting plumply around the head. I sort of wiggled on my knees to bring myself into a position a bit closer to her so that I could most advantageously apply pressure pushing myself up inside of her. Lastly, I leaned forward and kissed her and asked her if she was ok. She nodded her head that she was. Her eyes were closed for the most part but, she opened them as she nodded. She was beautiful.

Regaining an upright posture on my knees and keeping a good grip on the sides of her tiny waist, just at the top of her hips, I began my thrust into her.

I wanted to see her expression as I broke into her and also watch the progression of my dick up into her tight little sheath so my eyes went back and forth as I continued pressing my dick into her.

She gasped and her eyes opened really wide. The head of my dick had disappeared but there was no literal penetration into her body. The head of my penis was simply surrounded by the surface tissues of her outer sex. Her hymen, still intact, was stretched tight as my dick pushed towards her soft liquid-velvet center.

She squeezed her eyes tight and I gave a short but powerful lunge with my pelvis pushing deeper into her. Again, she opened her eyes wide just as I felt a giving sensation and my prick sank an inch or two into her. She screamed a short squeak, followed by a few "ow"s. I hadn't wanted to hurt her, still didn't, but hearing her cries of pain as my dick penetrated her soft, hairless, juicy, little baby pussy was incredibly exciting to me.

"Ouch! Ow! Ow! Ow!

I pushed another inch into her. The lubrication from her mouth was helping, but her female sheath was tight around the first several inches of my delighted cock. Suddenly, for the first time, I became 100 percent aware of the tightness of her sex around me. Before all I'd felt was resistance as I was busting her cherry. Now that pleasant little job was accomplished, I could feel the hot tightness of her pussy tightly enveloping my naked dick in her snug but liquid interior and she felt wonderful. I had expected her to be tight and, she was, deliciously so. Still, without moving myself inside her, the delicious sensation of feeling her body's natural grip on my penis wasn't all that I wanted. I wanted to ram Ol' Pete up to the hilt in her and fuck her ears off. I wanted to fill her vagina with my sperm. I wanted to look at her flat little belly knowing that beneath that smooth, soft skin, deep inside her, my little wrigglers were wriggling up into her womb. I wanted to see my juice leak out of her freshly fucked little fuck hole.

"Ouch! It hurts. You're hurting me. Take it out. Take it out." She was whimpering now. "Not a chance in hell," I thought to myself.

Nevertheless, I stopped advancing my progress into her.

Without withdrawing or advancing further into her, I leaned forward and kissed her face. There were tears flowing from the outside corners of her eyes. I kissed and licked them away. I kissed her cheeks, her nose and, her lips.

"You're hurting me. Why didn't you put it in my bottom? It hurts really bad."

I didn't answer but withdrew a little bit and then moved back to what seemed like the same depth into her. Her body was hot and very tight around me and it felt absolutely marvelous being inside the tightest little pussy I'd ever enjoyed.

She gasped, but didn't say anything. I repeated the in and out movements a few times. She was tense and obviously in some considerable discomfort but, she wasn't begging me to stop or, screaming or, crying. I pushed deeper into her. It was wonderful. She had probably three inches of me up her belly.

The sight of my stiff dick almost half way up inside her vagina was riveting (pun intended). I looked at the girl's tiny, beautiful little body lying there, her mouth opening and closing with each partial withdrawal, and then, with each forward penetration, with a sense of amazement and rapture. Her tight, slick little pussy felt wonderful. Each thrust seemed to push some of her outer tissues into her little sex hole because of the friction-induced tightness. Each partial withdrawal of my dick, allowed that tissue to return to its natural exterior position. If I pulled out a little further, the tissue of her sheath, the actual interior wall of her vagina formed a little extrusion that formed a ring of her inner tissues in a tight band and hugged my withdrawing dick. The inner tissues of her vagina wall were a beautiful soft pink. Except for the fact that I would have died before I pulled out of her sweet little pussy, I thought how tasty her insides looked. I wished my tongue was long enough to really tongue-fuck her.

I lifted her legs straight up into the air and pressed the backs of them to my belly and chest reveling in the contact of her skin in contact with mine. I rubbed the soft skin of the backs of her legs against my body. Fabulous! How SOFT she was, how smooth her young skin was! The sweet tight pressure of her body-grip on my dick was heaven. Fucking this little girl, . . . . . . . so tiny, soft, petite, God! Delicious! God, she was tight! I reveled in the sensation of the skin of my cock sliding in and out of her tight, silken-smooth pussy.

My view of her face was still partially obstructed due to her petite size. I continued the short pumping strokes into her very slowly allowing her to get past the pain of her torn tissues and to become accustomed to the feeling of a man's dick shoved up her little cunt.

Gradually, her face relaxed and I lowered her legs down so that, once again, they were on either side of me, the backs of her knees resting on my thighs and her feet just waggling in the air as I pumped into her with the short strokes. I wanted to shoot a huge load of semen into her but, for some reason, I felt like I could keep on doing this with her forever. Steady, slow strokes, penetration limited to the ground so far gained, that portion of her yet virgin, unpenetrated interior still to be enjoyed, I was in heaven.

I pulled my dick almost all the way out of her and reestablished my last gained beachhead. "Ouch," she said as my dick head stretched the freshly broken tissue of her cherry. I repeated the entrance stroke about a dozen times, each drawing from her a small groan of discomfort but, also towards the last few strokes, causing her to begin a slight pelvic thrust as I pushed into her. I angled my thrusts so as to bump her cervix with the head of my cock. Each time I made contact that way, she gasped and said, "Oh!" I had no reply other than to do it again and again.

Finally she said, "That hurts me."

"Shall I stop doing that?" I asked.

"No, ... Oh! Unngh! Yes. Oh!"

"Shall I stop?" I asked again.

Oh! Oh! Ummmphh Oh! No, it feels so good, too."

Welcome news, I kept on pumping into her. I gave no thought to gentleness to her cervix or to the soft deepest inner depths of her sex canal. She was tight and, now she was also deliciously wet. Looking down at my dick, there was a red ring of virgin blood up near my body. There also seemed to be some red seepage underneath her ass as it ran down her crack to the towels beneath her. Seeing my dick disappearing into her sweet, pale, soft little body was incredibly erotic. I was fucking a little kid, too. How unreal was that? For some reason, maybe because it was such a taboo, the fact that I was having sex with a child so young, so illegal, so forbidden only made my dick harder. Now there was no fear of prison only the pleasure of penetrating this passionate, pretty, tiny little girl. It was getting close to baby-making time!

"Are you ok?" I asked.

She nodded her assent but said nothing. I continued my short, slow pumping strokes.

"Does it feel better?" I asked.

Again she nodded that it did.

"Does it still hurt?" I asked.

She nodded another assent. "A little," she said.

"Does it feel good?"

"I don't know," she answered, while gently thrusting up with her hips with an occasional soft mmhuuh sound.

I pumped some more. God, she felt good! Not that I was going to stop no matter what she answered, but I asked her, "Do you want me to stop?"

"I don't know." More pronounced thrusting from her, but still, she was being very cautious. Her little flower had been stung by the treacherous bee and was soon to be pollinated. Although I was totally engrossed in fucking this sweet, freshly (but slightly) wounded little fluff, the thought amused me.

I decided that was about as positive a response as I was likely to get from her considering that by now I could see more blood on my stiff dick and thought that maybe some had seeped into the towels underneath her ass but, it was really too dark to see for sure. The sight of my dick half-way inserted into her body at the juncture of her very sweet and sexy thighs, was stunningly erotic to me.

I pushed deeper into her there was hardly any resistance to my forwarding efforts. The only resistance was in the increased amount of friction because more of my dick was inside her. I kept pumping, gradually gaining a fraction of an inch every couple of thrusts. Now, it became apparent to me that my earlier estimation of how long I could continue fucking her without blowing a load of my little swimmers into her womb was overly optimistic. If I kept fucking into her sweet little pussy, I wouldn't last another minute.

I stopped and pulled most of the way out of her. Then, moving forward I rested on my elbows and re-sank my penis as deeply into her as I'd so far advanced. I stroked her hair and kissed her. I told her how wonderful she felt squeezing my dick. I asked her if she was ok.

"It still hurts a little bit," she said. "And it feels like there's something really big inside me and I feel all filled up with it."

"Does that feeling feel good?" I asked.

"Kind of good," she answered nodding a little with her eyes closed. Gentle, pelvic undulations on her part verified the truth of her answer. The tension in her expression was gone. She was totally engrossed in the sensations produced in her body of having a man's stiff dick shoved up inside her little belly. It looked to me, although still nervous, that she was enjoying her first fucking.

I kissed her again, getting some response from her this time. I pushed the last unsheathed inch of my rejoicing dick into her until our pelvic bones were close together. I could feel the last reaches of her vagina with the head of my dick. God, but she felt good. Soft, sweet, slickly tight, her sexy little body lay before me as I fucked her. Her firm, full tits barely jiggled as I thrust all the way inside her. Her thighs spread and her legs draped over mine as I knelt between her legs and repeatedly skewered her and withdrew only to do it again and, again. Occasionally, as I moved inside her, a wet, sucking sound issued from her juicy little slit. Hard thrusts into her, which I did every few strokes, resulted in a damp, meaty, slapping sound as my cleanly shaved groin slapped her smooth-hairless, damp, wet cuntal plane. Her entire body was slightly bounced toward the headboard of the bed as I fucked her. I wanted to burn the images of her into my brain. I wanted to fuck her forever. I was in heaven. My dick was in heaven.

She gasped.

"How does that feel?" I asked.

"I don't know yet," she answered. I kept still for a moment; I was still on the verge of shooting her full of cum and I didn't want it to end yet. Having my dick snugged up to the hilt inside of her pussy was sheer heaven and I didn't want to stop. I also was about to go crazy with the desire to cum inside her delicious little body.

I began making more frequent full length thrusts into her; very slow full length thrusts that pulled almost entirely out of her before slowly burying the head of my dick somewhere in the near vicinity of directly beneath her belly button. I couldn't believe such a tiny little girl could take even a normal 6 ½ inch dick entirely into her tight little cunt. Not overly long maybe, but it was a thick bugger and she was stretched around me so tight that it was a truly mind blowing experience.

I propped myself up on my knees again and looked down at our slightly bloody union. My reddened prick moved slowly in and out of her. Deeply into her and out. Deeply back to the hilt inside of her and back out. The skin on my dick dully glistened with her juices in the slightly dimmed light of our bedroom. The bed was soft and quiet; there was no noise but our breathing and the susurrations of our skin in contact and the soft rustle of the sheets as she moved her arms to outstretch them. Her fingers occasionally clenched the sheets and released them only to grasp them again every few moments. All sorts of erotic thoughts were racing through my head, many of them having to do with the fact that I was fucking a kid, a child, a little girl not yet even a teenager. My dick was fucking a girl hardly more than a baby. I knew how perverted my thinking was, but such thoughts were deliciously erotic and only heightened my pleasure.

She lay there quietly as I looked into her face and continued to slowly fuck into her. Suddenly, without willing it, I knew I could hold out no longer. I started pumping into her faster and much more forcibly. There were wet juicy sounds coming from the motion of my dick inside of her. There was also a rapid slapping sound as I hilted my shaft into her as far as I could get it.

It was there. Now! I pushed my dick as hard as I could into her, sheathing my sex sword to its hilt in her, making sure that as I pumped my little baby makers into her that they were as deeply buried inside her body as they could possibly be. I arched my back so that I could put my face between her shoulder and her neck and kissed her flesh as the storm broke and the deluge of her young sex began.

The first pulse of my semen into her felt like it was almost enough to blow my ears off. I felt the cum jet from me and inject her with the first charge. The second was beyond belief, but there was no way to say it was any better than the first squirt into her had been. Each successive squirt of my cum into her was heavenly.

When I had completely emptied my load of baby butter far up into her belly, I rolled half off her, partially rolling her with me so that we faced each other on our sides. My dick was partially withdrawn from her. I kissed her and got to my knees. I wanted to see my semen seep out of her. I pulled entirely out and got to my knees. Quickly, I stood and brightened the lights to their brightest then, quickly resumed my place on my knees between her legs.

The view was spectacular! Her lips of her little cunt were inflamed and very red. Her pussy lips were slightly spread not yet having returned to their normally closed, slit-like appearance. At the bottom of her slit, at the entrance to her vagina, there was a slightly larger gap between her labia. That area looked inundated with the creamy-looking cum that filled her. Looking at it gave me pleasure. That was my cum in her. Her body was filled with my semen. My sperm was wriggling up inside her, looking for the tiny entrance, the os, the little opening into her womb. I didn't remember how long sperm could live in a female body, but 24 to 32 hours seemed to be what I remembered. God, for more than a day, then, my sperm would be moving inside of her pretty little body, looking for an egg to penetrate, looking to make her pregnant with a baby. . .a baby inside of a little girl hardly more than a baby herself.

It occurred to me suddenly that I didn't even know if she'd had her menarche, her first passage of blood. She hadn't the first time I asked her; had it happened since then?Maybe she was entirely safe? That would be best. I was getting off on the idea of knocking the kid up but, that wasn't really what I was hoping for.

There were several smears of blood on the insides of both of her thighs. I looked at my dick. It was definitely stained with a ring of red from her blood but only up near the base. The rest was just wet from her juices inside and from the cum I'd squirted into her. There was a blood stain on the towels underneath her ass about the size of a dollar bill folded in half. I was surprised at the size of the blood stain. Her cherry hadn't really been that hard to rip open with my dick. Yeah, I'd had to push pretty hard into her to break it but, that seemed like a lot more blood than I'd expected. I had the evil thought that, if I could pop her cherry again, I'd gladly do it.

From the bottom of her very reddened slit there issued a steady stream of semen. As it flowed out of her, it streamed down the crack of her ass onto the towels I'd placed underneath her and it made a white puddle with a hint of red to it in the center of the larger blood stain underneath the seeping cum.

She couldn't help but notice my fascination and sat up to see what I was looking at. With the movement of her body, apparently some of her internal dimensions changed forcing a large dollop of cum to slide out of her slit, adding itself to the growing puddle of white steadily pooling between her thighs.

She looked at the mess in amazement. Noticing the blood, she exclaimed, "I'm bleeding!"

I reassured her that most of the bleeding had stopped and that she was "just fine."

I can tell you from firsthand experience that there is nothing more erotic on this earth than the sight of a freshly fucked little girl. Her naked body wet with a light coating of sweat, her pussy streaming your freshly ejaculated seed from deep inside her is a sight never to be forgotten. I decided to see if I could fuck her again that same night.

"Are you ok?" I asked.

She said, "Yeah."

I lay down by her side and kissed her, nuzzling her neck, nipping her earlobes and blowing my warm breath into her ears. She was warm, no; she was very warm with a light sheen of sweat coating her pretty curvy little body. The slightly ammonia-bleach odor of semen was heavy in the air. The room definitely smelled like sex.

I put my right hand between her legs and stuck my middle finger deep inside her squishy feeling, sperm-lubed, little pussy. Inside, she was soft, smooth, warm and very juicy feeling.

She sighed gently and pressed her pussy upwards against my hand, opening her soft thighs a little to allow me full access to her little treasure box. I swirled my finger in the semen coating her vagina walls making sure that I pressed the pooling juice against and around her cervix, pushing through the cum-puddle to press more sperm laden juice into the os of her uterus. I felt a delightful, demonic perversion of pedophilic lust. I didn't really want to make her pregnant, but I couldn't help doing things to her that might just help get a baby started in her.

The fact, even though she was still a preteen-aged child, that she might be nubile and maybe even ovulating at that very moment was enormously exciting to me, and even the idea of knocking her up was making me hard again.

I moved up on my knees and again positioned myself between her legs. Reaching beneath her sweet plump, firm thighs, I pulled her closer to me and again positioned the soft head of my rock-hard dick at the entrance to her pussy. Without any hesitation, I pushed the whole length of my shaft into her to the hilt. She lay there with her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open. She put the tip of her tongue out and gently closed her teeth on it.

I started a steady rhythm of pushing into her up to the hilt of my stiff dick and then withdrawing to the point that the glans penis just barely was covered by her outer lips. Then I pushed into her, opening the entrance to her body with the head of my dick and savoring the exquisite feeling of her flesh opening to allow me to slickly, tightly slide up into her to the hilt again and again. This was heaven. I stroked into her in this manner for maybe 20 or 30 long, deep body stabs, skewering her sex over and over.

About halfway through this series of fuck moves, she began breathing very heavily, and energetically thrusting her pussy up at me each time I drove deeply into her tightly stretched liquid depths. Occasionally I angled my prick so that it could slickly slide over the nub of her well-lubed cervix. Each slick contact with the hard little nubbin of her uterus as it entered her vagina sent a thrill of pleasure through my happily ensconced shaft followed by the equally pleasurable feeling as my dick head bottomed out at the furthest depth of her vaginal sheath.

Lenora, during my own personal ecstasy, was for the first time enjoying her new life as a sexually active female. Her legs were tightly locked around me and she was energetically thrusting her hips up and down in a rhythm synchronized to my thrusts into her not yet matured sex. I was nearly frantic with the desire to refill her with a fresh charge of cum but, recognizing that she might reach an orgasm at any moment, I forced myself to hold off.

Rather than concentrating on the delightful compression and friction her vagina was giving my penis, instead, I continued exactly what I was doing but with more vigor as I looked at her face. Her expression was one of sexual abandon. She was breathing heavily through her mouth, frequently licking her lips and biting her lower lip. Her hands were on her breasts and she was rubbing her palms in a circular motion on her nipples. She reached down with one hand and felt her stretched open sex lips and the hard, wet meat shaft that was pistoning into her. Her fingers stole a bit of the juice that coated her lips and my dick and moved up to her clitoris.

This was too much for me. Instead of allowing me to prolong fucking her, this triggered another massive eruption of my cum up into her belly. I slammed my pelvis up between her legs and with my hands on either side of her tiny little waist, pulled her up against me as hard as I could. My dick was buried in her as far as she could take me.

Suddenly, as I was about to spurt into her a second time, she threw her hands out to either side and spasmodically began clutching the bed-covers. She uttered a high-pitched little noise that was part grunt, part squeal and her legs tightened even more around my waist. Her back was arched and her pelvis was tightly pressed against me.

Inside her, I became aware of a pulsing, squeezing sensation as the muscles of her vagina began to participate in her orgasm. I'd felt that before inside orgasmic women but in the tight confines of her little sex sheath, Lenora's spasmodic squeezing was much stronger, much more pronounced. I continued squirting cum into her until I felt that one more injection from me would shoot both of my eyeballs into her.

When I felt that I'd completely drained myself inside of her, I leaned forward, still on my knees with her crotch spread wide and pulled close to mine, I arched my back so that I could reach her mouth and kissed her. With my dick still pressed deeply into her the unbelievably strong squeezing of her pussy around my shaft continued for several minutes. Her arms were around my neck and she was breathing heavily against my cheek and muttering little noises, "Huhhh, ohhh, huhhng, ohhh."

I kissed her face, her eyes, licked her lips and stuck the tip of my tongue between her lips. She didn't change anything that she was doing except that she would occasionally give me little smooch-kisses or, let the tip of her tongue touch mine.

My dick was still stiff, but not as hard as it had been earlier. I decided to see if I could manage fucking her little baby pussy one more time that night. Just as I began moving myself inside her, it occurred to me that I'd forgotten to take a Viagra pill. "Holy shit!" I thought, then concentrated on the sensations of my dick lovingly squeezed, sliding deeply into her and, then out only to push the opening of her vagina open again once more to gain access to the farthest reaches of her soft, warm interior.

On my knees again, still fucking into her, I reached underneath her ass and raised her vertically as I stroked deeply in and out of her. I pulled her so high vertically that, each thrust into her aimed my dick up at her belly button. I could clearly see a small bulge on the surface of her abdomen as the head of my dick pressed the walls of her vagina up against her abdominal muscles. The little bulge then moved up several inches as I shoved deeper into her and stopped just below her navel. Goddamn, it looked sexy to actually see how deep into her belly I'd managed to lance myself. Looking at her flat little belly and the subtle undulation that marked my in and out fucking of my little sex kitten set me off into my third orgasm of the night.

This was a first for me. Even as a teenager I'd never been able to have that many orgasams as I'd just enjoyed. Neither had any sexual experience in my life been as intense as what I'd just experienced. The old saying that our most important sex organ was located between our ears was certainly true. The erotic taboos, the sight of such an improbably young sex partner, seeing my dick pistoning into her hairless little snatch, her extreme youth, the beauty of her body...all of that...everything had combined in my mind to drive my libido, my sexual excitement to a level I'd never reached before.

Apparently, the third time hadn't resulted in another orgasm for Lenora but, she didn't seem to mind nor did she seem any worse for the wear. I pulled my completely subdued pussy dragon from its juicy-sweet little lair and once again watched as my juice came out of Lenora's little cum-socket. A small cum bubble formed at the opening of her sex-hole. It broke. I watched in exhausted fascination as she took a deep breath and a large dollop of semen spilled out of her and fell to the towels beneath us.

The blood that had smeared both of her thighs was now spread over a larger area and wasn't as dark. Instead, the insides of her thighs glistened with sex juices that were slightly stained with blood. A small rivulet of semen still issued from her very red little pussy and ran down the crack of her ass until dropping to the towels beneath her.

I had intended for us to shower before we went to bed but, I was far too beat to even consider it. Moreover, it looked to me that Lenora had fallen completely asleep.

I took a corner of one of the towels and wiped her off. I then went to the bathroom and got a freshly moistened wash-cloth and a couple of fresh towels. I used the wash-cloth to wipe her sex slickened pussy and thighs. Then, after drying her off with one of the towels, I put the second one between her thighs up against her still drooling pussy and removed the bloody, cum soaked towels that had protected the sheets during her defloration.

I then got into bed with her and pulled her close to me. She snuggled closer and put her arm over me as she snuggled her face into my chest. I went to sleep holding her close to me and feeling her soft breath against my skin. My last waking thoughts were of millions of my sperm swimming in the delightful liquid depths of her sweet, underaged little pussy, all of them earnestly looking for an egg to fertilize. If I hadn't been completely drained, beat, completely whipped, thoroughly exhausted, I'd have tried to fuck her tiny little body yet once again. Fat chance! I was done for the evening.

I woke up the next morning before she did feeling much refreshed and hungry. There was a slight ache in my dick from my efforts in popping Lenora's little cherry. Instead of being really painful, it reminded me of how much I'd enjoyed fucking her last night. I considered rolling her over and sticking it up her again before we even got out of bed. The idea was delightful.

Something in my movements maybe . . . or, maybe she just woke up on her own? She opened her eyes and looked up at me still lying very close to me with one of her shapely little legs over one of mine. My upper leg was propped up against her without pressing most of its weight down on her.

"Good morning, Sweetie," I said. "Are you ok?"

She answered, "Good morning; yes, I'm ok. I'm hungry."

"Fucking must stimulate the appetite," I thought.

"Me, too. Let's shower and go have breakfast, ok?"

"Ok." She moved to get up.

"Ow!" She exclaimed as she put both hands to her crotch and doubled over in pain. "Ow!"

"Are you ok?" I asked her with, I'm ashamed to admit, a slight smile of guiltily pleased sense of sexual satisfaction in my rape of a little kid.

"She looked at me, frowned and slowly broke into a small smile."

"You hurt me last night."

"I know," I said. "Do you want me to say that I'm sorry?"

"Yes."

"Ok, I'm sorry."

"Really?" She asked. I didn't exactly know how to answer so, I told her the truth.

"No, not really. I should be very sorry because what I did to you last night was wrong and illegal, but I really enjoyed loving you. Do you want me to be sorry?"

"No. But I want you to feel bad because you really hurt me."

I didn't know what to say so I got out of bed and set her on my lap, both of us naked, smeared with dried sex fluids, and probably very stinky. Her crotch began to seep again due to the more vertical position of her body as she sat there on my thighs.

"What do you want me to say? I asked.

"Do you really love me?" She asked.

"Yes, I really do," I honestly answered

"Do you love me like I'm your little girl, like a daddy?" She asked.

I had thought about this.

"Yes, in a way, but not really, not exactly."

"How, then?"

This wasn't going to be easy.

"Well that's a fair question," I said gaining a few moments to think of an answer. "It's a question that deserves an answer but it's not easy to explain, ok?"

She didn't respond; she just sat in my lap looking down at her knees or, maybe the floor.

"Let me try to explain by just talking to you about it, ok?"

Apparently, this was an acceptable approach. "Ok," she said.

"What do you think about what we did last night?"

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Well, how do you feel about it?" I asked.

"It hurt a lot at first," she said.

"I know."

"But it got better."

"I'm glad." I said.

"Did you like it a lot?" She asked looking at me directly.

"Very, very much." I answered, "I loved it! You are beautiful and it felt wonderful to make love to you."

She had averted her face and was looking at her knees again.

She only nodded her head but, said nothing. I looked at her to see if she was crying.

She wasn't.

I kissed her cheek, close to the corner of her mouth. She responded by slightly turning her face towards me so that my second kiss was on the corner of her mouth.

"I liked what we did," she said.

"I'm very glad," I said. "What did you like about it? I mean what did you like most?"

"When it stopped hurting, it felt good."

"And?" I prompted.

"I felt happy. Safe." She continued looking at her knees.

"You are safe, Sweetheart," I said. "I'll always take care of you and love you."

"Not like a little girl, though." She said that as a statement but, there was a questioning look that added more to the actual words.

"No, not as a little girl," I said but, we need to talk about that some, ok?

"You mean we can't talk about it to anyone, don't you?"

"Yes. That's what I mean and it's very important. Do you understand why?"

"Yeah. My mom and I talked about it a little bit in the trailer the other night."

I was surprised. "You did?"

"Yeah."

"What did you talk about?"

"Mom said, if you did anything to me, that I could never talk about it unless you were mean to me. Then she said to tell everybody I could."

"Jesus H!" I thought. My heart nearly stopped. Once again, I was reminded of the extreme danger my newly discovered taste in fucking little girls had put me in. I was completely at a loss for anything to say.

"I don't want to tell anybody," she said. "Mom said that if I told anybody the cops would put you in jail and you'd get killed there."

My voice caught in an almost choking way but I managed to croak out, "Yeah."

She started to cry. "I don't want you to get put in jail," she said.

"Listen, sweetheart, let me tell you something. I love you."

"I love you, too," she interrupted, still crying; crying, in fact, even harder.

Listen, Honey," I said, "listen; don't cry, ok?"

She sort of convulsively swallowed a sob or two as she brought herself under control.

"You obviously know we have to have a secret just between us, right?"

She nodded in assent.

"Do you want to do what we did last night again or, do you want it not to happen again?"

"She looked at me, and asked, "Do you love me?"

"Yes," I answered, "What do you want? Whatever it is it's ok; I love you and that won't change."

Strangely, or maybe not so strange, this was the truth.

"I can keep it a secret," she said. "I want to do it again."

I nodded. So did I!

"I liked what we did."

"I did, too," I said.

"Did you love me while we did it?" She asked.

"Yes, and I love you now."

"Do you really think I'm pretty?"

I said, "Yes, I do."

"Sexy, too," I muttered half under my breath.

"Can we do it some more, she asked with a little smile?"

"Sure, secretly; just between us." I hesitated a moment and asked, "You mean right now?"

"No, Silly. I'm starving! After we eat, ok?"

Ahhh, life was good.

We showered. Again we washed each other and I sudsed her all over. This time I gave her still sensitive little puss a good washing. I didn't put any soap suds inside her but I made sure I rinsed out as much cum from her vagina as I could. I like fucking a nice, clean little pussy. With only a modicum of effort (and a fair amount of fun) I had her nicely rinsed out and her sleek, silky little sex tube was all ready for another go. She very nearly had another orgasm once the initial shock of having the sensitive freshly torn tissues of her former hymen wore off.

Breakfast was bacon and eggs for both of us. Lenora said that it hurt between her legs a little. I noticed that she walked a bit stiffly at first when we went to breakfast and for a few steps after we got up from the table. I asked her if she was ok. She just took my hand and nodded as we walked back to our room.

Just as we got back to our room my mobile phone began ringing. I looked at it and saw that it was my attorney, Jerry O'Dell. I didn't really want to talk to him at that particular moment but, he was dealing with some things that were important to me so I decided to answer.

"Hi, Jerry."

"Dave, have you heard anything about Ann?"

"No, what's to hear already?"

"Dave, she's dead. She was killed in an accident. Yesterday. I just heard from her attorney in California. He asked, since you were still married, if you want to make her final arrangements. Otherwise, he's making arrangements for her and her companion, a Marvin Johns or Johnson, something like that. I was too shocked to even write it down."

"Shocked?" He was "shocked?"

I sat down and started to say something but then remembered I had to breathe in order to be able to speak. I took a breath and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Ann's dead? When, yesterday, you said? What kind of accident, skiing?"

"No, they were driving at night and hit a patch of black ice. Apparently this Marvin fellow she was with was too way too drunk to drive. Ann may have been driving; they were both ejected from the car as it went off a steep part of the mountain. Ann had been drinking, too."

"Are they both dead?"

"No. Ann was DOA at a local medical center, but this Marvin guy is in very critical condition. I really wasn't told much more than that about him, or the accident."

"Who did you talk to?"

"Her attorney, the guy who was going to represent her in your divorce."

"Oh."

I felt like hell, but I was still trying to get the idea into my head that Ann was dead. It occurred to me that it was going to be up to me to arrange her funeral; there was no one else to do it. She'd been an only child and had had no children herself. There may have been other blood relatives, but if so, I'd never met any of them, at least none who were still living. An uncle, a much older fellow...in his eighties probably, had died a couple of years ago and no one but Ann and I were at his funeral as family members. Ann said that he and her father had been the only two children and the deceased uncle had never married or had any children.

I thanked Jerry and, even though he was still trying to tell me something, I'd heard more than I wanted to already and I pushed the disconnect button on my phone. Immediately it started ringing again. I ignored it. The ringing finally stopped.

I suppose the look on my face was prima facie proof that something had happened and Lenora immediately recognized it.

"What happened?" She asked with a stricken look on her face. "Is my aun...is my 'mom' ok?"

"It's my wife," I answered. "I was just told that she's dead."

Lenora's expression didn't change; she still looked stricken. She stepped backwards and climbed on the bed. Since it was a bit high, "climb" is an appropriate choice of words. Settling herself on the edge, with both hands in her lap and her face looking at her hands or, knees or, something but, not at me she said:

"I didn't know you had a wife. What happened to her?"

We just broke up and were about to get a divorce but, there hasn't been time enough for that. She was in an accident with the man she was going to marry."

"You're sad," she said, "Will you miss her?"

"Yes, it makes me sad," I said. We didn't love each other anymore like a husband and wife should love each other but, she's . . . she was a good person and we were still friends. I wish she could have lived and married the guy she was in love with."

"What happens when you die?"

Tough question. I thought for a moment and asked her, "What do you think happens?"

"I don't know," she answered. "I think God takes you with him. Is that right?"

"I don't really know but that's a good thing to believe, I think. Millions and millions of people think the same thing that you do or pretty close to it."

"Do you have to be good for God to want to take you?"

"I certainly think that would help, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Auntie Charlotte is going to die, isn't she?" This was the first time Lenora had referred to her aunt/"mom" in this way. I thought it was an improvement over calling her aunt "mom."

"Yes, I'm afraid that she is."

"Where will I go then?"

"You're staying with me. I'm going to take care of you."

"Forever?"

"For as long as you want to stay with me."

"I don't ever want to leave."

"You may change your mind when you grow up."

She didn't respond to that. "Will I be your little girl?"

"Yes"

"But you won't be my daddy?"

"Right. I'll be what's called your Guardian and I'll protect you and take care of you just like a daddy would. Will you like that?"

She sat there, on my lap, tears running down her face. Instead of giving me an answer, she leaned into my body with her face buried in the polo shirt I was wearing, crying . . . just sitting there quietly crying as I held her close to me and gently rocked her in my arms. She was so tiny, so light and she felt so fragile.

We sat there together; her in my lap saying nothing, just crying and I with nothing I could think of to say, just sitting there holding her and stroking her hair as she cried

The world she'd known was gone, destroyed, and completely changed in a matter of days. I thought to myself that I knew how she felt. I pretty much felt like crying, too. I thought about Ann, and then I thought about her dying aunt. The realization crept into my mind that I really didn't know how she felt. I also realized that I'd really come to love her, in what capacity I wasn't yet sure whether as her daddy, lover, or what else?? I knew I had come to love her, but had yet to learn how or how much. My eyes welled and I felt my own tears come.

Even though I didn't know exactly how Lenora felt, I could at least identify with her sense of loss and confusion; the world I'd known had disappeared just like hers.

The day of the Ann's funeral had arrived. I'd had her body shipped back to Phoenix where most of her friends and former educators lived. There was no other family, so it logically fell to me as her husband. Her erstwhile fiancé had come down assisted by several of his family members. He looked a mess, facial bruises and cuts, his left arm and leg both in casts. He'd been driving and it was obvious that he was still deeply grieving.

I asked him and his family to sit with Lenora and I in the very small section reserved for family Ann's surviving family members. He seemed both appreciative and embarrassed, but accepted the offer. As soon as the ceremony was over, he and his family left and that was the only time I ever saw any of them. Ships passing in the night, so to speak.

Lenora and I returned to our apartment suite. And decided to order dinner from room service. She wanted shrimp. Surprise, surprise! I was teaching her to enjoy other forms of seafood, but it looked as if shrimp were always going to be her very favorite.

The food had just been delivered, when the phone rang. It was the hospital. Charlotte had died a few hours earlier, while we were just leaving the funeral home, apparently. God what a day!

I let Leni finish her meal before I said anything. I'd started calling her that rather than her whole first name. I thought it was a cute nickname and she seemed to like it.

"Leni, Honey, come sit with me for a little bit, ok?" She didn't hesitate at all, just sat down by my side and I leaned forward and took her into my arms. I sat there holding her for a few minutes not knowing what to say to her. She drew away from me a little, apparently sensing that I wasn't at ease. Looking at me, she asked, "What's wrong? Are you ok?"

I could only nod at her and tried to draw her back into my embrace, but she put her hands against my chest and resisted that. "'Mom' died, didn't she?"

"Yes, I'm sorry," I said. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she said, "It's ok. She told me it was going to happen soon. Will she have a nice funeral like Ann did?"

"Yes, of course she will. We'll take care of it for her together, won't we?"

She nodded, dropping her gaze to her lap, or maybe just lowering her head to let the tears fall from her eyes without streaming down her face.

"Besides you and I, is there anyone special you'd like to be there?" I asked. She shook her head then, softly said, "No, just us." We don't know anyone else anymore."

I nodded my understanding. She leaned into me and allowed me to hold her close. I called the same funeral home that had handled Ann's funeral and made the arrangements for Charlotte. They handled everything with special consideration for Leni's wishes. I made sure there were flowers everywhere. She and I, along with a few of my friends who had met her and several people from the hospital were there. Leni handled herself with quiet dignity and only cried as the casket was moved from the funeral chapel and when it was finally lowered into the grave.

I gently tried to get her to avoid the graveside services, but she insisted that she had to be there.

A week later, she and I were again at Charlotte's gravesite to witness the grave marker's placement. I had made sure that it was ready as soon as humanly possible. I wanted to put all this behind us so that Leni could begin life under happier circumstances. Within a few days, she seemed back to normal. Well, maybe a different sort of normal . . . she went back to sleeping in her own room, but was more affectionate to me otherwise. In public, she acted just as any other young girl out with her dad might act.

Tom Brewer, my attorney, called me the day after we saw to the grave marker's placement.

He said that he'd spoken to the attorney to whom Ann and her former fiancé had spoken. Ann had not formalized an agreement that he should be her legal representative. He also said that Marvin Tusker, Ann's former fiancé had told him that, with Ann gone, he had no further interest in her post-mortem affairs. He had seemed to be a nice enough guy and was, apparently, still in mourning. I felt sorry for him.

Tom asked me if I could meet with him and a few of the people who were CEO's of several companies Ann had owned. I agreed and asked him if he knew of any top level management companies capable of helping me get up to speed with the assets she had inherited. He said he'd look into it for me. As a CPA, I was accustomed to dealing with people in the business world, but several of the companies were high tech enterprises and well beyond any management experience I'd ever had. Besides that, I wasn't terribly interested in spending any more of my life in the business world than I had to.

---

Personally: I think this story has pretty much run out of steam. I suppose it could go on, but I have to wonder why. There are several directions it could go, based on little ideas imbedded in the body of the story here and there, but unless there's any interest in further story developments, I'm finished with this story.