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Message-ID: <36770asstr$1023916204@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Henrik Larsen" <henlar@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} (RP) Neighbours daughter ch. 13-16 (mf ff teen rom) by Henrik Larsen
Date: Wed, 12 Jun 2002 17:10:05 -0400
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(c) Copyright Henrik Larsen 2001



Even though it is a repost of a fairly recently posted story, I still 
appreciate your comments. You can reach me either through assd or by e-mail 
at henlar@hotmail.com.


This story contains elements of explicit sexual nature.

If, for some reason, you feel offended by erotic stories, then I don't know 
why you have opened this one. Maybe to be offended, so you can complain 
about how awful it is that somebody writes stuff like this. If that's the 
case, my advice is to seek professional help. You need it. If you are not 
allowed to read stories like this, I will not be held responsible, if you 
choose to continue. But don't worry; it's all fantasy.

A great thanks to Old Rotorhead and Cagey. I'm very grateful for their 
patient work, correcting and editing my stories, and their constant 
encouragement.

Reposting or any other use of this story is strictly prohibited without the 
express, written permission of the author.






The Neighbour's Daughter.

Chapter 13.

Sophie's idea of fond memories was apparently to have a sore pussy or arse, 
but I didn't share that view. The strained muscle in my neck certainly 
reminded me of how we'd made love, every time I tried to turn my head, but 
it didn't exactly excite me. It took almost a week before I was able to turn 
my head again. What did excite me was the thought that we would have an hour 
or two to ourselves every Saturday.

The less exciting part of my everyday life was Mrs Larsen. She didn't thrive 
in the hospital. Basically, she just wanted to die as quickly as possible. 
Since doctors have given an almost sacred vow to keep people alive for as 
long as possible, the hospital wasn't the best place for Mrs Larsen to stay. 
Unfortunately, there were no alternatives. One day, she asked me joshingly 
if I could hold the pillow over her head until she stopped breathing. I 
didn't find it amusing, mainly because I knew that it wasn't really a joke.

Despite all hardship, things settled in sort of a routine after a couple of 
weeks. Mrs Larsen forbade me to visit her more than three times a week.

"A young man like you shouldn't be hanging around on the hospital's 
geriatric death row," as Mrs Larsen poetically expressed it.

Sophie and I also settled in a new routine. She had managed to convince her 
parents that it would be much easier if she walked home from the library 
herself. I was quite pleased that we didn't have to hide in a corner of the 
library, constantly at risk of being spotted. It still wasn't the ideal way 
to see each other, but as with Mrs Larsen, we had no alternative.

I was actually quite content with the way things were and sure that they 
would remain that way for some time. Even the risk of Sophie getting in 
trouble was smaller. If her parents were to come home unexpectedly, we would 
be able to hear it and she could sneak out undetected, and pretend to come 
home late from the library. It was close to perfect, except that it was only 
for a few hours once a week.

- - -

Nothing lasts forever, and the comforting Saturday routine only lasted two 
weeks. It was a Wednesday evening and I'd been visiting Mrs Larsen, which 
meant I was eating late. Suddenly, I heard loud voices from Sophie's flat. 
Now, usually, I would be in Mrs Larsen's flat at this time of day, eating 
dinner or doing the dishes. In other words, even if I hadn't heard Sophie's 
parents argue before, it didn't mean that it was the first time. I chose to 
ignore it.

It continued for a short while, the voices gradually sounding louder and 
more agitated. Sophie's farther was very loud, but I could just hear the 
voice, not the actual words. My curiosity got the better of me and I'd just 
got up from my chair to try and put my ear to the wall when I heard Sophie's 
front door open and then slammed angrily shut. Fast step down the stairs 
followed. Then everything became quiet.

Lots of married couple had a quarrel every now and then and it didn't bother 
me much. I went back to my dinner and forgot about it. I'd just finished the 
last bite, when I heard a quiet knock on my door. I was a bit surprise since 
I rarely had visitors, but I went out and opened the door. It was Sophie and 
she was in a mess. Her eyes were red and it was obvious that she'd been 
crying.

"What happened?" I asked as I stepped aside and let her in.

She didn't answer, but as soon as the door was closed, she threw her arms 
around my neck, hid her face in my chest, and started to cry like a 
rainstorm. I was completely overwhelmed, but I managed to get her into the 
living room and down on the sofa.

There was no end to her tears. I did my best to comfort her, holding her 
close and whispering soothing words in her ear. I gave her time and when she 
finally stopped crying and looked up at me, I put my finger on her lips.

"Shhh, don't say anything. I'll get you a glass of water and you take a deep 
breath. We don't want another waterfall to start," I said, trying to cheer 
her up just a little.

She smiled weakly and didn't say anything until she had sipped some of the 
water I brought her. I sat down again and put my arms around her. She rested 
her head on my chest and began to talk.

"I was just telling mum and dad that I was going to do some homework with my 
classmates, you know, we had to do it together, because we were doing some 
group work. Then mum said that she would have to call my classmate's parent 
to make sure that there was somebody home to look after us. I said that my 
classmate's parents wouldn't be home and that we didn't need to get help 
from her parents. I mean, I know that wasn't why she wanted to call her 
parents, but I couldn't let her make the call. Everybody would think I was a 
freak or something. And then dad . . ."

Sophie had to dry her eyes and blow her nose again before she continued.

"Dad got very upset and told me not to talk back. I wasn't, really, but they 
didn't give me a chance to explain. Mum freaked out and yelled that I 
shouldn't upset dad. I can't recall what was said, but they went on about 
how ungrateful I was and that they had done so much for me. Suddenly, dad 
said that if I didn't like it at home any more, I could just leave. I . . . 
was mad at them. I can't recall if I said anything, but I think I just got 
up and left."

Sophie sniffled again and looked up at me.

"It's not fair. It's not me who wrong, it's them, isn't it?"

I ran my fingers through her hair.

"It isn't you, Sophie. The only persons on this earth that can't see what 
you have been going through is your parents. You have been so patient and 
put up with all their strange rules. Don't blame yourself," I said.

Sophie was still very upset and we sat in silence for a long time, before I 
dared to ask the question that had to be asked.

"Do you want to go back and see if they have calmed down now?" I asked.

"No! I don't want to go back. They have to ask me to come back. I'm not 
going back unless they will let me live a normal life," Sophie said.

There wasn't a trace of doubt in her voice. She was still angry and not 
thinking rationally.

"Sophie, they don't know where you are. They will be worried sick, if you 
don't come back tonight."

"I don't care!"

"Yes, you do. You can stay here for as long as you want to, you know that, 
but you have to at least call them and tell them that you are all right. I 
know they have been very unfair to you, but they won't get any sleep tonight 
if they haven't heard from you. You don't have to tell them where you are," 
- and I sure hoped she wouldn't - "but you have to let them know that you're 
safe."

Sophie sighed.

"OK, but not now, please. I don't want to right now. I just want to be with 
you."

An hour later, Sophie called her parents. I could only hear half the 
conversation.

"Mum? It's Sophie. No, I'm all right."

There was a pause.

"I'm not coming home, not until you stop treating my like I was five years 
old. - - You want me to apologise? But mum - - But I didn't do anything 
wrong. Mum, I'm sixteen, almost seventeen. - - No! I'm not going back to 
that."

Sophie's mum was still talking, but Sophie didn't' say more. A few seconds 
later, she hung up and turned to me.

"Satisfied? Mum wanted me to apologise to dad and to come back immediately. 
She even wanted to take away some of my "privileges", as she called it. You 
know, bringing Nina home in the afternoon," Sophie said, sounding more 
bitter than sad.

"God, Sophie. There must be some reason why they treat you like that. What 
is it?" I asked.

"How should I know?" Sophie shrugged.

"Well, at least they know you are safe. Let them sleep on it. Maybe they 
will see the light, when they think a little bit about it. Do you have your 
key?"

Sophie looked surprised, but she began to search her pockets.

"Yes. Why?"

"Well, I assume that you'll stay here until you have worked something out 
with your parents, but your clothes and books are on the other side of that 
wall," I pointed to the wall that had kept us apart for so long. "You'll 
have to go in there tomorrow, after they have gone to work and get some 
clothes and your school things."

"I guess so. I hadn't thought of that," Sophie said. "But I want some new 
clothes. I don't want to wear those childish dresses any more."

"I can understand that, but you'll have to wear your old clothes until we 
get some new for you."

"I . . . don't have any money. I'll have to get a job," Sophie said quietly.

"Let's take one thing at a time. We'll get you some new clothes," I said. 
"Don't worry, I'll pay."

"I don't want to . . . be a burden to you."

"Sophie. I love you and you'll never be a burden. I want you here with me 
and I want you to be happy."

I hadn't thought about how long Sophie was going to stay. I wanted her to 
stay, but I think I would have preferred that it came about in another way. 
Hiding her like she was on the run was not the best way to start our life 
together. I hadn't thought about the practical and financial side of things 
either. All that had to wait. I was just happy that she was with me. Reality 
had to wait.

Sophie cuddled up close to me on the sofa.

"Eric, I love you so much. I don't know what I'd done without you."

To be honest, I could only agree. I had heard about girls running away from 
home and ending up on the streets, taking drugs and making money as 
prostitutes. Her parents could have done a lot more damage, if they had been 
successful in keeping Sophie away from everybody. What had happened tonight 
was inevitable and would have happened sooner or later.

We decided to go to bed and Sophie got to use the bathroom first. We'd both 
dreamed of the day that we would be able to sleep together and now that we 
finally could, the event was overshadowed by Sophie's anger and sadness. 
Still, Sophie came out of the bathroom nude and kissed me very sensually, 
before she went to bed.

When I had finished and came into the bedroom, she was asleep, curled up in 
a foetal position. She looked so small and vulnerable. How could anyone 
treat her so cruelly, least of all her own parents? I slipped down next to 
her as quietly as possible. Sophie woke briefly and snuggled up close to me. 
I put my arm around her and we lay like spoons as close as we could get.

I didn't fall asleep right away. So many thoughts went through my head. 
Sophie was with me, asleep in my arms, but there were still a lot of 
problems. I wanted to make Sophie happy, to protect her. It would be 
difficult as long as her parents didn't accept that she'd grown up. They 
were still her parents and apart from the legal aspects, Sophie was still 
emotionally attached to them and she couldn't just forget about them.


- - -

Sophie was already awake, when I woke up. She was resting her head on my 
arm, looking at me like she'd been waiting for me to wake up for a long 
time. I looked at the clock and there was still half an hour before I had to 
get up. Sophie smiled happily. Yesterday's troubles had not yet turned into 
today's worries. It was as if we existed in a time and space where there 
were only us. No words were needed. Sophie stretched out lazily and I turned 
over on my side to face her.

We looked deep in each other's eyes and caressed each other tenderly. Her 
skin felt so warm and soft, so receptive. Only the lightest touch was needed 
to make her shiver and breathe a little faster. A feathery touch from my 
finger and her nipple was hard and erect.

Being so close together raised the temperature under the duvet to tropical 
heat in a very short time. We pushed it off and felt the cool morning air. 
It didn't chill us at all. Sophie's skin was burning hot and our touches 
became more intense. Without taking her eyes off me, Sophie reached over and 
took the condom she'd put on the nightstand last night. I was able to put it 
on without losing eye contact. Sophie straddled me, very slowly lowering 
herself onto me.

Nothing else existed, just the two of us. I felt every move she made as she 
slowly began to move up and down. I felt how she arched her back as our 
pubic bones met, grinding herself against me. And all the time, we looked at 
each other. I could look into Sophie through her eyes and see how her 
arousal grew as I penetrated her deeper and deeper, until she sat up 
straight with me inside her as deep as I possibly could get.

I reached up and cupped her tits and she began to rotate her hips gradually 
faster and more intense. All I could hear was Sophie's breath. The noise 
from the street and the stairs was gone. Even my own breathing was 
soundless. I think it was the closet I've ever been to become one with 
another person. When Sophie quietly reached her peek, the wall of her pussy 
squeezed me tightly. She lay down over me and after a few, rigid and deep 
thrusts, I came only seconds after her.

We could have stayed in bed forever, but my alarm clock brought us back to 
reality. Sophie decided to stay home from school and get her books and some 
clothes. It was her decision, but I encouraged it. She needed time to think 
things over, before she talked to her parents again.

- - -

I came home around five and found Sophie engaged in schoolwork. She wasn't 
wearing one of her usual loose dresses.

"I called Nina and told her what had happened. She already knew and she'd 
guess that I was here. Mum called her yesterday evening asked if I was 
there. It was Nina's mum who picked up and she doesn't know anything about 
you. You know what she said to my mum when she realised that I'd run off? 
"So, Sophie has finally escaped the prison". Nina's mum wouldn't tell Nina 
what my mum said after that, but it was a very short conversation," Sophie 
said.

"Well, I hope that it will make your mum think a little bit about what you 
said to her last night. Are those Nina's clothes?" I asked.

"Yes. She said I could borrow some of her clothes until I get some new 
clothes. She would check if they need somebody in the store she works in. I 
might be able to get a job there."

"That sounds great, but let's see how things work out. I think you should 
call your parents again tonight. We have to find some kind of solution," I 
said. "As long as you are under eighteen, you need their approval for a lot 
of things. You might even need them if you want a job. You can't sign a 
legally binding job contract until you are of age."

"You could sign," Sophie said.

"I'd have to be appointed your guardian, which means that your parents have 
to be deemed unfit to care for you by a judge. That's not going to happen. 
Even if you complained to the authorities, it would probably take a long 
time to go through all the necessary procedures and you'd be eighteen long 
before it was settled."

"Why does everything have to be so complicated?" Sophie sighed.

"It's going to be all right. Let's see what your mum has to say, when you 
call her tonight. I'm sure you can reach some kind of agreement." I said.

"I want to stay here with you."

"I know, but maybe it's better that you stay with your parents. Hopefully, 
I'll get something bigger and then we can move in together when you are old 
enough. I doubt your parents will accept that you live with me now."

"I though you wanted me here?" Sophie said, very disappointed.

"I do, Sophie, I do, but we have to be realistic and . . . any way you look 
at it, you're still attached to your parents. I mean, the bonds between 
parents and children don't break so easily. We have to find the best way and 
if you burn the bridges behind you, I'm afraid you'll never be happy."

Sophie didn't answer.

"Sophie, if your parents will let you go out and dress as the other girls, 
it won't be that bad to go back, will it?" I asked.

"I just want to be with you," she whispered as the tears began to run down 
over her cheeks.

"Please, Sophie. I just want to do what will be best for all of us in the 
long run. I want to be with you as much as you want to be with me. Please 
trust me. I love you so much and I don't want to see you hurt again. Please, 
Sophie," I begged her.

"Why does it have to be me? Why can't I just have normal parents and live a 
normal life?" Sophie sobbed.

I couldn't answer, but I dearly hoped that her parents would come to their 
senses.


(c) Copyright Henrik Larsen 2001





The Neighbour's daughter.

Chapter 14.

It took some time and a lot of tears to convince Sophie that I still loved 
her and wanted to live with her, but that it would be better if she could 
reach some kind of agreement with her parents and live with them. Then we 
began to discuss her "demands".

At first, she wanted them to apologise to her for treating her badly, but I 
convinced her that it would be very difficult to make them admit that they 
had treated her wrongly all these years. She'd have to go slowly. We settled 
on two basic demands: She wanted to dress like other girls her age, and she 
wanted to be able to go out and visit her friends and classmates.

Sophie also wanted to get on the pill, but I knew a way to fix that without 
involving her parents. I'd discretely asked my doctor if it was possible for 
him to make the prescription for Sophie without her parents knowing, and as 
long as she was over 15, that would be no problem. In principle, she would 
have to go to her own doctor, but when I explained the circumstances, he 
agreed to do it, if needed.

I was very nervous when Sophie called her parents.

"Hi mum. It's Sophie. I just called to say I'm doing fine. - - Yes, that's 
why I called. - - Mum, don't - - With a friend - - Not Nina. I have other 
friends, even though you would prefer that I sat alone in my room the rest 
of my life."

Not a cleaver remark, but Sophie was upset even before she made the call. 
She listened for a while, and then all of a sudden she yelled:

"Stop it, mum! That's not the way it is. I'm not a child any more and you 
have to stop treating me like one. - - No, I won't hang up if you listen to 
me. I want to dress like other girls and I want to be able to go out like 
other girls. I want to have a life!"

She was getting very angry now and any chance of a mutual understanding 
between Sophie and her mother was rapidly evaporating.

"Why do I have to be different from all other girls? - - Maybe it was, when 
you were my age, but it's different now! - - No, you're wrong. How many 
girls do you know that aren't allowed to visit their friends? - - Why don't 
you ask your colleagues what their daughters are allowed to do? - - That's 
not true and you know it. I'm the only one who lives in a prison. - - How 
could I tell Nina's mother? I'm not allowed to visit her. I never talk to 
her. - - Just forget it. I'm staying here. Good bye mum."

Sophie hung up. She was upset and very frustrated. I didn't need to ask. 
Instead, I put my arms around her and pulled her close to me.

"You can stay here for as long as you want. Don't worry, they'll come to 
their senses," I whispered.

"She was so concerned the first few seconds, and then she starts telling me 
that I have to come home and go back to the old ways. She knows it's wrong, 
I mean, she can ask anybody, but she won't admit it. I did listen to her, 
and I didn't hang up on her, but she won't listen to me," Sophie said, 
desperately trying to suppress her tears.

"You did what you could. You'll just have to give them more time."

"I have to be patient! I have to give them time! I have to go back and put 
up with their old fashioned ideas! Why is it always me?" Sophie sniffled, no 
longer able to contain her tears.

"I wish I knew, Sophie."

- - -

Sophie didn't call her parents the next couple of days. No, it wasn't 
revenge; Sophie simply didn't have the energy to argue with her mum. If I 
thought that it would help, I'd have put pressure on her to do so, but I was 
convinced that the only thing that could make her parents see sense was 
time.

She went to school Friday. Sophie was used to being taken to school by her 
parents, in their car. Now, she had to leave early because she had to walk. 
The advantage was that she didn't run into her parents on the stairs. I was 
still a little worried about what would happen if Sophie's parents found out 
that she was hiding next door, in my flat.

Saturday, we did it the other way around, and waited for her parents to go 
shopping, before we went out. Nina had told Sophie about some good shops 
where they had fairly cheap clothes. Some of the shops were quite expensive, 
but had a rack with out-of-stock models and clothes with small defects or 
stains. I did spend a lot of money, but when we went home, Sophie had 4 
blouses, three shirts, ten t-shirts - pure cotton and very cheap - and two 
pairs of jeans. We bought some underwear as well. The main thing for Sophie 
was that it had to be really tight fitting. No more baggy dresses or loose 
slacks.

When we came home, I made sure that Sophie hid behind me until we were in my 
flat, just in case her parents were looking. Sophie immediately began to try 
on all the clothes. She was so happy. It was the first time in many years 
that she'd had clothes that she wanted. All the bargain blouses and shirts 
were examined very carefully to find any little detail that needed to be 
fixed. It took her over two hours.

Saturday evening we decided to go out. I'd already ruined my saving program, 
buying clothes for Sophie, so I might as well do it properly. Sophie dressed 
up and she looked stunning in very tight jeans and an equally tight 
sleeveless blouse.

I'd picked a small Italian restaurant, nothing fancy but a very romantic one 
with candles on the tables. It was the first time Sophie had been to a 
restaurant without her parents. It was also the first time she had a glass 
of wine and even though she said she liked it, I think she would need to try 
it a few more times, to get used to the taste. She settled for one glass. I 
didn't want her to get drunk. That would have spoiled a very romantic 
evening.

Nina came around on Sunday. After hugging Sophie, she looked at her.

"So?" she asked.

"So?" Sophie giggled.

"Are you happy?"

"Yes! And I don't want to talk about my parents, okay? I'm just so happy 
right now. We went shopping yesterday and we bought - Come on, I'll show 
you."

Off they went into the bedroom to look at Sophie's new clothes. I made 
coffee. They were still talking and giggling in the bedroom, when I 
announced that coffee was ready. We sat down to drink coffee and Nina picked 
up her bag.

"I bought these in a sale, because they were cheap, but they never did fit. 
I think they'll be perfect for you," Nina said and took out a pair of very 
hip shoes.

We hadn't thought about shoes yesterday.

"God, Nina! They must have cost a fortune," Sophie said.

"No, and I can't use them anyway. They have been standing in my closet for 
over a month and I get so annoyed every time I look at them. Try them on, 
please."

Sophie did and they fitted her nicely. She looked really posh. After walking 
around, Sophie sat down and looked at the shoes. She was very quiet for a 
long time. When she looked up, she was smiling, but there were tears in her 
eyes. She waved Nina over and at the same time, she reached out for me. We 
both hugged her tightly. I'd never dreamed that a pair of shoes and some 
clothes could make anybody so happy that they would cry.

"Thanks," Sophie managed to sniffle. "I don't know what . . ."

"It's just so wonderful to see you happy," Nina interrupted her.

Had it been anybody but Nina, I would probably have been jealous when Sophie 
gave her ea big kiss, but with Nina it was different. She moved back to her 
chair and we finished the coffee, talking about everything and nothing, sex 
in particular.

Nina was very quick to tell me that she didn't have a boyfriend presently. 
Seeing the look Nina sent Sophie as she told me, I was sure the girls had 
already talked about it while they looked at Sophie's new clothes. I knew 
they hadn't had time to be together the last couple of weeks and Nina had a 
healthy sexual appetite. It was just a question of who was going to suggest 
that we do something about it.

When Nina had told me she didn't have a boyfriend, Sophie followed her lead.

"When I haven't been able to be with Eric for a long time, it's like my 
imagination runs wild," she said.

"I know what you mean. I've had some wild fantasies lately," Nina giggled.

"I think it's because the hormones accumulate," I said.

"What did you dream about?" Sophie asked, looking knowingly at Nina.

"I . . . was thinking about the time that the three of us were together, but 
you had one of those artificial cocks with a harness that your can put on 
like panties. I got kind of a double taking. I don't know if I'd like it for 
real, but it was so hot in my fantasy," Nina answered.

"You mean like, I had a cock, too? Can you really get something like that?" 
Sophie asked in her wonderful, innocent way.

"Sure, but they cost an arm and a leg."

"And we both . . ." Sophie trailed off, but Nina understood.

"Yes. I mean, I don't know if I'd even like it, but you were in my pussy and 
Eric was in the other hole."

Nina blushed. Sophie looked like she hadn't quite figured it out, but then 
her face cleared and she giggled.

"Oh, that way," Sophie said. "I often dream about the three of us together, 
too."

"Quite a popular fantasy," I said, mainly because I couldn't come up with 
anything better.

I didn't want to suggest the obvious. I felt that this was Sophie's day, a 
day for her to be happy and forget her worries, and I would go along with 
whatever she suggested. It was her choice, no matter how obvious I thought 
it was. I knew I often fantasised about that day with Nina and Sophie. I 
loved Sophie more than any other girl and the fact that I also thought about 
sex with Nina somehow made me feel a little guilty sometimes. Irrational, 
yes, but that's the way of the human brain.

"We haven't got that harness thing," Sophie said, "But I still think we 
could drive you insane."

"Certainly," I added, just to let Sophie know that it would be fine by me.

"You wanna try?" Nina giggled.

We did and in no time we had arranged the cushions and bolster from my sofa 
on the floor and put a sheet over. Sophie knew what she wanted to do and 
took control. I think Nina was as surprised as I was, but I thought it was 
great to see Sophie with so much self-confidence.

Nina was told to sit down while Sophie and I undressed each other. Sophie 
made a little show of undressing me. To tease both me and Nina, she slipped 
her hands under my clothes before she took it off to tease me. I tried to so 
the same when I undressed her and I couldn't help kissing her nipples a 
little once they were unwrapped.

Nina was next and we did it together. We didn't have the same patience with 
her clothes and in no time at all, Nina was lying completely naked on the 
floor. Sophie told me to lie down next to her with Nina's arm under me and 
her leg between mine. Sophie did the same way on the other side of Nina.

"What are you doing?" Nina giggled nervously when she realised that she 
couldn't move her arms and legs very much.

"We're going to drive you mad," Sophie replied.

We did. We let the tips of our fingers touch every part of Nina's body 
within reach. Only feathery touches, but they did drive Nina up the walls. 
Her nipples were teased endlessly, her inner thighs, her outer lips and her 
inner lips were lightly pinched and pulled. Only the spot Nina wanted the 
most to be touched was left alone. After 15 minutes, Nina was fighting 
desperately to get her arms free, but Sophie was relentless.

She had been licking Nina's nipple, but moved up to her ear and whispered 
something I couldn't hear.

"Yesssss!" Nina moaned.

Sophie released Nina's arm and leg and motioned me to do the same. Nina was 
up in no time, letting Sophie take her place. Sophie spread her legs and 
Nina turned and straddled her face while she lowered her mouth to Sophie's 
pussy. Just before Nina pressed her aching pussy against Sophie's face, she 
told me to get behind Nina and fuck her.

This was my favourite position and since I didn't know what Sophie's plan 
was, I had to concentrate a lot to keep myself from coming. Nina and Sophie 
didn't have to worry about that. Remembering Nina's fantasy, I looked down 
on her dark, tiny hole and wondered what it would be like to squeeze my cock 
into it. I vividly remembered how tight Sophie had been and that was only a 
finger! I knew it was possible, but it would be a very tight fit.

I brushed my thumb over Nina's arsehole. It felt dry and I wouldn't even try 
to penetrate her, but the muffled cry told me that she liked to be touched 
there. Seconds later, Nina shuddered and moaned as quietly as possible into 
Sophie's pussy as her first orgasm rushed through her. We had to be quiet. 
Sophie's parents were next door, and calling out Nina or Sophie's name could 
give Sophie away.

Sophie continued to attack Nina's pussy and I had to concentrate very hard 
to hold back. A minute or two later, Nina had her second orgasm, and I had 
to pull out. Nina became very tight during her orgasm and that was more than 
I'd be able to take. I certainly didn't mind fucking Nina, but I wanted to 
make love with Sophie as well.

Nina rolled over and lay next to Sophie. Sophie looked very, very excited, 
her eyes shining with anticipating. Nina was panting heavily and looked like 
the cat that ate the canary. Sophie quickly sat up and kissed me deeply. 
Nina sat up a little more slowly and put her arms around both of us. We 
invited her in, trying to make it a three way kiss. It didn't really work 
out. Instead, Sophie alternated between kissing Nina and me.

"It must be your turn now," Nina said to Sophie.

"Ummm. We just need a condom. God, can't we go to your doctor tomorrow?" 
Sophie asked.

"I think he has evening consultation on Wednesday," I replied.

When I went to the bedroom to get the sheet we'd used to put over the 
cushions, I also got a condom. Sophie sighed impatiently, but smiled when 
she saw that I already had the condom. I sat back down and rolled it on. 
Nina and Sophie knelt in front of each other. Sophie put her hands on Nina's 
shoulders and leaned towards her, raising herself on her knees. Nina 
whispered something I couldn't hear and they giggled. Sophie raised herself 
a little more and moved back, spreading her legs. Nina let her hands run 
down Sophie's sides to her thighs.

I moved in behind Sophie and let my hands run up her sides to her tits. 
Sophie wiggled her hips impatiently, but I continued to caress her tits and 
nipples a little longer while Nina caressed her inner thighs. I wish I'd had 
a mirror and could have seen Sophie's face, but when I looked at Nina's 
face, I actually think it mirrored Sophie's expressions. Their eyes were 
locked together.

I pressed my body against Sophie, feeling her soft buttocks against my 
groin. Nina reached between Sophie's legs and guided my cock to Sophie's 
opening. In one long stroke, I let my cock slide into her very wet pussy. 
Actually, only half my cock was in her because she was sitting fairly 
upright. I tried to move closer to her, kneeling under her. That way, she 
was kind of sitting on me, and I could penetrate her deeper. Little by 
little, we found the best position.

My hands were still on Sophie's tits and I could feel that Nina's hand was 
between Sophie's legs, most likely playing with her clit. We moved in slow 
motion. Nina's free hand caressed Sophie's hair, then her face. She let 
Sophie lick her fingers and suck two of them into her mouth as if she was 
sucking on my cock. Sophie had to breathe through her nose, accentuating her 
quick breathing.

Her breathing intensified and she began to move faster up and down on my 
cock. I squeezed her tits tighter and used them to get a better grip on her. 
Nina's fingers were no longer in Sophie's mouth, and I couldn't see where 
her free hand was. I had a good guess, though.

Sophie was getting close to coming and leaned closer to Nina, resting her 
head on Nina's shoulder.

"Harder," Sophie gasped. "Harder."

I let go of her tits and grabbed her hips instead.

Nina whisper something in Sophie's ear.

"Yes . . . harder," Sophie gasped. "It feels so good . . . your fingers."

Hearing her talk like that was really exciting and spurred me on. I almost 
lifted Sophie up with my next trust.

"Yes, harder," Sophie responded.

I couldn't do it much harder, but I did my best and that was good enough. 
Too good, but Sophie was very close and between us, Nina and I, we sent 
Sophie over the edge. She whimpered into Nina's shoulder as I continued to 
pump furiously into her. I was far beyond the point of no return and 
exploded inside Sophie even before her orgasm had subsided. It was truly 
well timed, but it was sheer luck.

Afterwards, we lay on the floor and tried to catch our breath. Nina looked 
and sounded like she had made herself come one more time.

"Was this what you meant when you said I should come on Sunday?" Nina asked, 
looking at Sophie.

Sophie didn't get it and she looked very confused when Nina and I cracked 
up. It wasn't that funny, but Sophie's confused face amplified the effect. 
It took a minute before Nina was able to explain what it was that made it so 
funny.

It was a really wonderful weekend.

(c) Copyright Henrik Larsen 2001





The Neighbour's daughter.

Chapter 15.

It took me until Tuesday to convince Sophie that she should call her parents 
again. She was very moody and I had to go easy on her. One minute, she was 
overly happy that we were together, and that she could do as she pleased, 
the next she was crying because her mother wouldn't listen to her or because 
she didn't have any money and had to rely totally on others for everything, 
even her clothes.

I saw Sophie's parents on the stairs Tuesday morning. They looked worried, 
really worried. I decided that I'd have to make Sophie call them in the 
evening. I was gentle about it, but insistent. I didn't tell her that I've 
seen her parents, but I told her that they were bound to be worried sick and 
that they probably were ready to listen to her. Sophie was still reluctant 
to do it, but finally she accepted. I think it was more for my sake than for 
her parents.

The phone-conversation with her mother was short, but they didn't get into 
an argument. Sophie just told her that she was doing fine, and her mother 
was apparently so relieved just hearing from her that she didn't try to make 
her tell where she was or anything thing else that could upset Sophie. 
Sophie promised her to call again the next day and that was it.

The phone call lifted Sophie's spirits considerably. Wednesday's call was 
much the same, and when Sophie's mother asked where she was staying, Sophie 
calmly told her that she was staying with a friend and that it would be best 
if they didn't know who it was.

Thursday, Sophie's mother listened when Sophie told her that she wanted to 
be able to go out and visit her friends, if she was going to move back. Her 
mother just said that they would have to work out something and that she 
would talk with Sophie's father. When Sophie hung up, she was relieved and 
very happy.

It was something else that gave Sophie a headache: a party Friday night. It 
was a school party and only for the pupils, which meant that I couldn't 
participate. Sophie had never been to a school party before and she badly 
wanted to go, but she wanted me to go along and that was impossible. I told 
her to go and have a good time with Nina and her classmates.

Sophie couldn't make up her mind, no matter how many times I told her to go. 
It was very difficult for me to understand why she would rather be with me 
than go to the party she had dreamed of like Cinderella in her room. I began 
to suspect that she was afraid to go, because she didn't know how to behave 
and didn't know how to dance. She wouldn't admit it when I asked her, but a 
little later she asked me about dancing. I told her to watch what others did 
and try to do the same. I wasn't much of a dancer and certainly not able to 
teach her.

Friday afternoon when Nina came around to pick her up, she still hadn't made 
up her mind. Nina ignored Sophie's indecisiveness and dragged her into the 
bedroom. When they came out, Sophie was dressed to kill. Nina had brought 
her makeup purse and she helped Sophie put on a dazzling makeup. Before 
Sophie had time to change her mind, Nina towed her along.

The party ended at midnight and I'd promised to pick her up outside the 
school. She was ecstatic when she came out.

"It was wonderful. Nina showed me how to dance and it was so much fun. I've 
danced all evening. My legs are so tired, but it was so wonderful," Sophie 
chirped.

"You see? I told you it would be great," I said.

Nina came over to say good night. She had to get home and get some sleep, 
because she was going to work Saturday morning. A couple of senior boys 
approached us and offered to follow Sophie home. She put her arm around me.

"No, it's cool. My boyfriend will walk me home."

She was almost bursting with pride when she said it and I think it made it 
even better that the boys looked disappointed. I can understand why they 
were disappointed; Sophie looked fantastic. Her cheeks were glowing in the 
cool midnight air and her eyes were shining brighter than the stars.

Sophie talked and talked. She only stopped talking while we walked up the 
stairs to my flat and when she brushed her teeth. She continued talking in 
the bed, until she all of a sudden went quiet. I'd been lying on my back 
with Sophie's head resting on my arm. When I looked at her, she was asleep.

- - -

On Sunday, Sophie told her mother about the party. Sophie's mother didn't 
say very much and I don't think she was pleased, but Sophie didn't notice. 
She was still very excited about the party. Monday's phone call was short, 
but Tuesday they finally began to talk about moving back home. Her parents 
were willing to let her go out, but she would have to be home by nine on 
weekdays and if she was going to be out later in the weekend, her parents 
would come and pick her up. Sophie said that she wanted to think it over.

Sophie thought that nine was too early and she didn't want her parents to 
pick her up, if she was out in the weekend. I suggested a compromise: nine 
thirty on weekdays and if she was home before ten on weekends, she could go 
home alone.

Her parents accepted it and on Thursday, Sophie moved back while they were 
at work. She stayed home Thursday evening and I was dying to hear what had 
happened. Sophie waited in my flat when I came home Friday afternoon.

"It was awful to sit and wait for them. I was about to lose my nerve, just 
before they came home. Mum was almost too much. She hugged me and cried like 
I'd been gone for ages," Sophie said.

"Well?" I asked, impatiently.

"They wanted to know where I'd gotten the money to buy new clothes," she 
explained. "I was so nervous. Anyhow, I told them that I'd borrowed the 
clothes from Nina and that I wanted to go out and buy some new clothes 
today. Mum said that she wanted to go with me and I told her she couldn't. 
Mum insisted until I said that I'd leave again, if they didn't let me decide 
what I was going to wear. That was what we had agreed on. Then mum gave in."

Sophie reached inside her pocket and took out the money her parents had 
given her.

"Here. I hope that will be enough," she said and handed me the money.

"No. You'll need more clothes. Just think of it as all the birthday and 
Christmas presents I've never given you."

"Please. I want you to have the money," Sophie insisted.

"Look, Sophie. I have a job and earn money now. It's not like when I 
studied. You can pay me back when you have finished school and earn money, 
too. That's final. Put it back," I said.

"I don't . . . "

"Sophie, please. Keep it and let's go out and buy some clothes for you. I'll 
just need to get a cup of coffee," I interrupted her.

She reluctantly accepted and put the money back in her pocket.

"So, what else happened?" I asked.

"It was awkward. I didn't know what to say or do and all Mum could say was 
that it was good I was back. Dad didn't say much at all. We just sat there 
all evening, looked at the telly and said as little as possible. I went to 
bed at nine," she said.

"Don't worry. It will get better," I assured her.

"They didn't ask me about anything, the party, what I'd been doing, 
nothing!"

"Would you have answered, if they had asked you what you had been doing?" I 
asked.

"Yes! I mean, as long as they didn't ask where I was and . . . OK, maybe I 
wouldn't. But I wanted to tell mum about the party." Sophie said.

"I'm sure she'll listen if you tell her, but she doesn't know what you want 
to tell and what you don't want to tell. And I don't think you should tell 
her about me. Not yet."

"I just want to tell . . . someone. I've got a boyfriend and new clothes - - 
Nina knows and some of my classmates, but . . . " Sophie trailed off.

"Oh, my sweet little Sophie," I burst our, and hugged her tightly. "I love 
you so much."

- - -

Things gradually got back to normal. Sophie visited me almost every evening. 
I was still convinced that her parents would flip the lid if they knew, so 
Sophie went downstairs and out the door, waited and then quietly went up 
again to visit me. This time, I didn't put my hopes up too high. Even though 
it seemed like everything was ok and we could go on like this, I knew it 
could end tomorrow. I was right, only this time, it wasn't Sophie that 
caused the commotion; it was Mrs Larsen.

A week later, on Thursday, I'd visited Mrs Larsen and she wasn't well. It 
looked like she finally was going to die like she wanted to. I couldn't help 
feeling sad and I guess I was hoping she would get better. The head nurse 
stopped me on the way out.

"Mrs Larsen is very weak. She refuses to eat and I was hoping that maybe you 
could convince her to eat something. If not, we will have to feed her by 
tube," she said.

"Why? Mrs Larsen wants to die. She's not coming home and she doesn't want to 
end up in a home. Why do you have to keep her alive?" I heard myself asking.

The nurse looked at me with a stone face.

"We can't just let people die. This is a hospital," she replied.

"Well, perhaps Mrs Larsen doesn't belong in a hospital. Look, I know you 
can't let people die. I just told you what Mrs Larsen has told me over and 
over again, since before she came here. If she has decided not to eat, 
nobody in this world can make her chance her mind."

The nurse suddenly relaxes a little.

"Sorry. I know this isn't easy. I was just hoping that you could help. We 
have tried to feed her by tube, but she blankly refused. We won't be able to 
insert the tube until she loses consciousness and by them it might be too 
late," she said.

"It may sound cruel, but I hope it will be too late. She really wants to 
die."

- - -

The call came on Saturday afternoon.

"Mr Eric Green?"

"That's me."

"It's from the hospital. Mrs Larsen has just passed away. I'm sorry, but it 
happened very quickly and we didn't have time to call you."

I recognised the voice as belonging to the nurse I spoke with on Thursday. 
She sounded so cold and businesslike, and it made me both angry and sad.

"I think that was what she wanted," I replied.

"Will you be arranging the funeral?"

Her question caught me by surprise. I'd never thought about who was going to 
do that.

"Eh, I guess so . . . Didn't she leave any names on her next of kind?" I 
asked, very well knowing that she, to my knowledge, had no family left.

"No, only your name and a phone number to a man I don't know. We haven't 
been able to reach him," the nurse calmly replied.

"A man you don't know? Never mind. I'll come around in an hour or so. Will 
you be there?"

"I'll be here until five."

I hung up and it suddenly occurred to me that I felt more relieved than sad. 
Then I thought about the funeral and that worried me a little. I had no idea 
how to go about arranging a funeral.

I went to the hospital right away. Once I was there, the head nurse was 
friendlier and much more compassionate. I mainly needed to know what the 
procedure was, but I was also interested in who the other man was.

"I's a Mr Zimmermann," the head nurse informed me. "We haven't been able to 
get in touch with him yet, but I'll try later and again tomorrow."

"Has he been here?" I asked.

"Not during my shifts. I've never seen anyone but you visit Mrs Larsen. Now, 
you don't have to do anything until Monday. She has to stay in the morgue 
for 24 hours. If you want to take care of the arrangements, I'll suggest 
that you contact a Funeral service. They can handle it for you. If not, 
we'll put an advert in the papers and announce her death. If nobody claims 
the body, the council will pay for the burial."

"I think I'll take care of it. As far as I know, she had no living 
relatives, unless Mr Zimmermann is a relative. Her son died young and her 
husband has been dead for many years, too. She's never talked about any 
relatives. She did play bridge, but two of the bridge-players are dead and 
the last one was in a home. He isn't able to recognise anybody, not even his 
own children. He might be dead by now. I haven't heard anything about him 
for some time. Mrs Larsen feared to end up like that," I said.

"What is your relations to the deceased?" the nurse asked.

"Eh, I'm her neighbour," I replied.

"In my experience, it is very unlikely that Mrs Larsen has any relatives. If 
she had, she would have talked about them. Old people like her often show us 
a ten-year-old holiday postcard and say: 'See, my grandson has written to me 
from Spain'. It's so sad. Mr Zimmermann is probably an old acquaintance. He 
might be the last bridge player."

"Maybe. I can't recall his surname. She usually referred to him by his first 
name, Samuel," I said. "Thanks for your help. I'll get back to you on 
Monday."

I had to get out of there. It was so depressing being there and to listen to 
the stories about old, abandoned people; Old people dying alone in a 
hospital, nobody to take care of anything. To live a whole lifetime and end 
up with a senile old friend and a neighbour you've only known for a few 
years. God, it was depressing.

It felt good to get out in the fresh cool autumn air. I wanted to forget 
about Mrs Larsen and the funeral arrangements until Monday. I walked home to 
get time gather my thoughts and put the hospital behind me. When I got home, 
I picked up Mrs Larsen's key and went into her flat. I tried to picture her 
in her favourite chair and refresh the memories of her from before she went 
to the hospital. That was the way I wanted to remember her: a nice, bright 
and witty old lady.

I went out into the kitchen. I'd bought a good supply of red wine, just 
before she went into hospital and I took two bottles with me back to my 
flat. I knew she wouldn't mind. Actually, I think she would have wanted me 
to.

Sophie came around after dinner. I had considered taking her out, but I 
suddenly didn't feel up to it. Fortunately, I hadn't promised her anything, 
so we stayed in and talked about Mrs Larsen and Sophie's parents. Sophie 
didn't really know Mrs Larsen. Her parents apparently thought that Mrs 
Larsen was a nosy old lady and had told Sophie to stay away from her. Sophie 
knew better and had asked me if she could come along to the hospital when 
Mrs Larsen was first admitted. I'd asked Mrs Larsen and she didn't want 
Sophie to see her in the hospital.

"This is not a place where you should spent your time and it is most 
certainly not a place to invite a sixteen year old girl. Tell her that she 
can visit me when I get home. That will be better," had been Mrs Larsen's 
reply.

I'd already told Sophie that Mrs Larsen wouldn't return to her flat, so I 
told her the truth and tried to explain why. I think she understood. 
Explaining it to Sophie helped me understand.

I didn't want to spend all evening talking about Mrs Larsen, and instead we 
talked about Sophie's parents and how they were getting along. It was better 
now. Sophie could feel some tension, when she said she was going out, but 
they didn't say anything. Sophie had to tell them where she was going, but 
it wasn't really a problem. Nina had explained everything to her mother, and 
she had been very upset about the way Sophie was treated by her parents. 
Nina's mother had agreed to cover for Sophie when she was with me. Sophie 
would say that she was with Nina and if Sophie's parents were to call Nina, 
her mum would say that they were out or that Sophie was on her way home. 
Then she would and call me.

Sunday afternoon, I got another call.

"Eric Green?" a male voice asked.

"Yes."

"I'm Mr. Zimmermann. I believe you are Elvira's neighbour?"

"Elvira? I'm not sure I know anybody by that name . . . Oh, you mean Mrs 
Larsen." I said, remembering who Mr Zimmermann was.

"Oh, sorry. How stupid of me. I am, or rather was Mrs Larsen's lawyer. I 
just wanted to tell you that you don't have to worry about the funeral. Mrs 
Larsen left instructions with me and unless you insists, I'll take care of 
the arrangements." Mr Zimmermann said.

"Eh, no. I mean, yes, fine. I don't really know anything about funerals," I 
answered.

"Good. Now, do you think you could drop by my office? I would like to talk 
to you and I must admit that I'm a little curious to see you, now that I've 
heard so much about you."

Mr Zimmermann had a very pleasant voice and he sounded so friendly.

"Where's your office?" I asked.

"Oh, it's about two minutes from your office. Elvira told me where you 
work."

He told me the address and I agree to come the next day after work. It 
wasn't until after I'd put down the phone that I realised that I'd never 
known Mrs Larsen's first name. I didn't know how old she really was, either 
and I'd never heard about Mr Zimmermann before, but Mr Zimmermann apparently 
knew all about me. And why did he want to talk to me? I'd have to wait to 
find out.



(c) Copyright Henrik Larsen 2001



The Neighbour's daughter.

Chapter 16.

Mr. Zimmermann's office was in an old, beautiful building. The entrance hall 
had tall oak foot panels and was furnished with old upholstered leather 
furniture. A secretary asked me to wait and called Mr. Zimmermann on the 
intercom.

"Send him right in," I heard Mr Zimmermann's voice say.

The Secretary pointed to a heavy oak door. Behind it was a large office with 
dark furniture. A grey-haired man was sitting behind a heavy desk.

"Ah, Mr Green. Do sit down. I'm Mr Zimmermann."

We shook hands and I sat down.

"I guess you're wondering why I've asked you to come here?" he said.

"Yes. Is it about the funeral?"

"That too. Elvira, Mrs Larsen, wanted to be buried along side her late 
husband and son. They have a family burial plot. She requested a simple 
service and I'm afraid it will be very simple since the only people there 
will be you, the vicar and myself," Mr Zimmermann said.

"You seem to know Mrs Larsen very well?" I said.

"Yes. I've been her layer for over 40 years. Her late husband was my first 
client when I joined this firm. When he died, Mrs Larsen continued to use 
the firm and I've been her lawyer all these years."

I wondered why Mrs Larsen would need a lawyer. A businessmen or criminals 
maybe, but why would an old, retired widow need a lawyer? Mr Zimmermann 
didn't look like the kind of lawyer that would serve dodgy crooks. It was 
hard to tell how old he was, but he looked very distinguished and he was so 
calm and pleasant, smiling and very polite but not overdoing it.

"Mrs Larsen talked a lot about you. It seems that you did an awful lot for 
her."

"No, I just did a little shopping. She was a very kind lady," I mumbled.

"Well, according to Elvira, you did much more than that. She has actually 
left everything to you," Mr. Zimmermann said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You are the sole beneficiary in her will."

"That was very kind," I said. "I don't think she had much, but she always 
insisted on paying when I cooked dinner. She probably paid for two thirds of 
my dinners during the five years I knew her."

She couldn't have left me much. As far as I knew, she'd been living of her 
pension for many years. She used little money the last couple of years, but 
her savings couldn't amount to very much.

"How much do you know about her late husband?" Mr Zimmermann asked.

"Well, he was an accountant. In a bank, as far as I recall. She didn't talk 
very much about him."

"He was an accountant, at least when he started out, but by the time he 
died, he had been promoted a couple of times. Elvira came from a decent but 
fairly poor family. When he died, she wanted to go back home, so to speak. 
She didn't like the neighbours up north of town, where their house was, so 
she sold it."

"I know that much," I said, "Even though I never understood why. I always 
suspected that she couldn't afford to live in the house."

"Her husband had provided well for her. She could have stayed if she wanted. 
There were just too much snobbery and Elvira hated that."

"Where did they live?" I asked.

"She didn't tell you? They had a mansion by the coast north of town. Elvira 
haven't told you anything about all this, has she? All she told you was that 
he was am accountant in the bank?"

"Yes, wasn't he?"

"When he died, he was managing director of the bank. Elvira was a fairly 
wealthy old lady. I've always suspected that you knew this, but I can see 
that I've done you wrong. Elvira claimed that you knew nothing about her 
money and that you were just a very kind young man. It was hard for me to 
believe, knowing that Elvira was well off, but I guess it comes with the 
job."

"She was rich?" I asked.

"Depends on what you mean by rich. I guess she has left you around 
$700.000."

It was one of those situations where he should have asked me to sit down, 
before he told me. Fortunately, I was sitting down. I was stunned.

"But, but . . . why did she live in a small, rented flat, if she . . ." I 
said.

"Because she wanted to. Mind you, her flat wasn't rented."  Mr Zimmermann 
smiled. "She invested her money. She owned the building. Now you own the 
building."

"You're joking! You mean to tell me that Mrs Larsen . . ." I gasped.

"Yes. You can keep it if you want. It can bring a good revenue if you raise 
the rent. Elvira didn't want to make money on it and the rent hasn't been 
adjusted for years. You can sell it, of course. It will be easy and I think 
you'll be able to get in the region of half a million."

I was speechless. Mr Zimmermann smiled kindly, obviously amused with my 
confusion.

"You don't have to decided anything now. It will take a month or so to get 
the paperwork done. Take your time. If there's anything you want to know, 
you can call me," he said.

I left his office and took the bus home. I think I did, but I can't 
remember. I was in a daze. A house, a car; I didn't need to think about 
saving up for all the things I wanted. I could just buy a house, buy a car. 
I could buy Sophie all the clothes she wanted.

I called my parents when I got home. I'd called them on Saturday and told 
them that Mrs Larsen was dead. My father had given me some advice about the 
funeral. They didn't believe me when I told them about the inheritance from 
Mrs Larsen. I mean, of course they believed me, but it was as hard for them 
to grasp as it was for me.

Sophie could hardly believe it either.

"You are rich," she said, when she realised that it was true. "Are you going 
to quit your job?"

"I don't think that I'm that rich. I think I'll buy a house and a car. I 
don't know. I need a little time to get used to the thought." I said.

"Are you planning to move far away?" Sophie asked, worried.

"No. I still want to be close to you."

Sophie blushed and smiled.

"You won't keep this house then? God, I can't believe that Mrs Larsen 
actually owned our house. I can't believe that you own it!"

"Neither can I. You'll just have to get used to having a rich boyfriend," I 
joked.

"Oh, I think I can get used to that, as long as you are still Eric."

"That won't change."

"It's just so fantastic. Are you happy now? Let's make love. We haven't made 
love all weekend," Sophie said.

We hadn't felt like making love. Too much had happened, but now I was up to 
it again and so was Sophie.

"I don't know. Maybe you're only after my money. Are you sure it's more than 
just the money?" I teased her.

"No! I'm only after the money and I'll do anything to get it. Just tell me 
what to do and I'll do it," Sophie giggled.

"Anything?" I asked.

"Anything!"

"OK. First, I want you to strip for me, you know, do it really sexy." I 
said.

"OK. Put on some slow music," Sophie said and jumped up.

I did and Sophie made a very sexy show for me. She caressed herself very 
sensually, first outside her clothes, but as she stripped, it became hotter 
and hotter. She played with her nipples and finally, when she took off her 
panties, she lay down in front of me with her legs wide apart and played 
with her pussy until the music stopped. She got up and stood in front of me.

"What do you want me to do now?" she asked. "You can spank me if you want. 
I'm such a wicked little girl who is only after your money. Don't you think 
I deserve to be spanked?"

We hadn't played any games since the Saturday when I spanked Sophie, even 
though Sophie had talked about it several times. It had really excited her. 
I had been reluctant to do it and I was a little shocked that it had turned 
me on. Still, the more I'd thought about it, the more it turned me on.

"Do you really think your cute little bottom deserves a spanking?" I asked.

"I think it does. I think it deserves ten slaps. Are you going to make me 
count them out or are you going to gag me, so I don't make too much noise?"

Sophie's parents were next door and the walls were far from soundproof.

"I think we better gag you."

I took a handkerchief and stuffed it into her mouth.

"Put your hands on the table," I ordered her.

She readily obeyed me and presented her lovely bottom. I counted out the 
slaps aloud, pausing between each slap. I didn't hit her hard, but enough to 
make her buttocks turn pink. When I'd finished, Sophie straightened her back 
and rubbed her buttocks. I took the gag out of her mouth.

"I'm still after your money," she said.

Her eyes were shining excited and her cheeks were hot and blushing. The way 
she looked at me emphasised her words.

"If that didn't help, I think I'll have to use other measures," I whispered 
to her.

"It didn't. What are you going to do?" Sophie asked.

I was out of ideas and very excited. All I wanted to do was make love to 
her.

"First, I want you to undress me," I said.

Sophie willingly complied. She ended up kneeling in front of me with my cock 
right in her face. Before I had the chance to do anything, she took my hands 
and put them on the back of her head. All I had to do was to pull her head 
towards me and my cock entered her open mouth.

Slowly, very slowly, my cock disappeared into her mouth. Her mouth was wide 
open and my cock hardly touched anything, before it settled in the back of 
her throat. I, or Sophie, kept it there for a second before I pulled her 
head back again. Sophie was completely passive.

"Use your tongue," I said and Sophie did.

Her tongue circled my cock and licked the underside. I pulled her closer 
again and she stuck out her tongue to reach more of my cock. When I hit the 
back of her throat, she gagged a little, maybe because her tongue was 
extended.

"Close your mouth," I said.

She complied and began to suck my cock as I slowly pushed and pulled her 
head back and forth. My cock was pressed gradually harder against the back 
of her throat. I think it was Sophie that did it. Still, even though it was 
pressed fairly hard into her mouth, it didn't enter her throat. Finally, I 
pulled her off and my cock left her mouth with an audible pop that made us 
both laugh.

"OK, put your hands on the table again," I said.

"Are you going to spank me?" Sophie asked.

Seeing in that position tempted me to do just that.

"Perhaps," I said. "Spread your legs more."

I knelt behind her and spread her lips with my fingers. The heat was 
radiating from her crotch. Her lips were glistening and very swollen and her 
clit was peeking out. I could smell her excitement.

Instead of spanking her, I blew a stream of air directly on her clit. 
Sophie, who had expected me to spank her again, gasped in surprise and 
shuddered. I did it again, but the effect was best the first time. I began 
to lick her from the clit to the delicate flesh between the two holes and 
back again. Sophie sighed and leaned lower, resting her head on her arms.

I stopped licking her, before she came. She was on the pill now and I didn't 
have to worry about condoms any more. It was great to be able to just stand 
behind her and slowly enter her. I reached around and rubbed her clit as I 
began to plunge harder into her.

My stomach slapped against her buttocks as if I was spanking her. Sophie 
slid forward on the table and grabbed the rim with both hands, resting her 
chest directly on the table. Her tits were flattened against the tabletop.

Sophie was pushed closer to the table and my arm was trapped between her 
thigh and the table, but I didn't really notice. I just plunged relentlessly 
into her. I should have come much sooner than I did, but I didn't feel that 
either. The table was forced over the floor until it was stopped by the sofa 
and began to creak dangerously.

I felt Sophie coming, but I kept rubbing her clit and she wasn't able to 
stop me. I was more or less blinded by lust. So much had been stored in my 
mind and it had to come out some way: Mrs Larsen's death, the relief that I 
didn't have to handle the funeral, and the surprise of the inheritage.

The table would have collapsed, if I'd held back one more minute. Instead, I 
collapsed over Sophie. The world around me began to return and I could feel 
the pain in my arm. I eased off and pulled my arm out. My cock slipped out 
of Sophie. There was only one advantage of the condom over the pill: it 
contained my cum in one place. Now, the mixture of our fluids ran down 
Sophie's thighs, but we were too exhausted to care.

After a little while, Sophie stood up and turned around to embrace and kiss 
me.

"Ummmm, I've never done that before," Sophie purred.

"Done what?"

"Come twice. When you kept, you know, fingering my clit, it was too much at 
first, but then it was like it built up again to a kind of an orgasm. I 
mean, it was an orgasm, it just felt different from the first one," she 
explained.

"Good?"

"Yes," she said and looked down. "Yuck. I'm sticky all the way down my 
thighs. It's your fault."

"I'm sure some of it is yours and besides, you have rubbed some of it off on 
me."

We had a long, playful argument about sticky thighs, until we went to the 
bathroom and showered together.

- - -

The funeral was very simple. As predicted by Mr Zimmermann, we were the only 
people present, apart from the vicar, the church servant and the funeral 
director. It was the first time I carried a coffin, and it was heavy in more 
than one sense.

Mr Zimmermann wrote a nice obituary in one of the big papers. Apparently, 
her husband was very well known in his days and a lot of people still 
remembered Mr Larsen. Even my father remembered. He hadn't been able to 
recognise Mrs Larsen, but that wasn't so strange. It was primarily her late 
husband who was known back then.

It didn't take me long to decide to sell the building. I wanted a house of 
my own, and even though Mrs Larsen had left me a bank account with close to 
@100.000, it wasn't enough to buy a house, at least not the house I'd set my 
mind on.

It took almost two month, before Mrs Larsen's money was released to me. 
Another month went before the building was sold. I got $600.000! I signed 
the papers for my "new" house the same say. I put "new" in quotes, because 
the house was far from new. It was almost 100 years old, and much bigger 
than I needed, but I was thinking ahead.

Sophie turned seventeen in February, and I gave her a gold heart on a chain. 
It was the first real birthday present I had given her, and even though we 
agreed that it would be best if she didn't wear it at home, we both hoped 
that she would be able to, soon.

I moved into the house in March. The only piece of new furniture I had 
bought was a big brass bed. The house looked pretty empty, but I was in no 
hurry. There would be plenty of time to fill the house and since I was 
hoping that Sophie would move in with me one day, I wanted her to help me 
choose the furniture.

On Sophie's home front, there was a ceasefire and constantly ongoing 
negotiations. There had been a few incidents, but Sophie was still living 
there. Her mother had objected to some of the more daring clothes Sophie had 
bought. She didn't like the tight fitting clothes and tried very hard to 
make Sophie wear something else. She bought her blouses and jeans in looser 
cuts. It was up to date, fashion clothing, nothing like the old dresses, but 
less provocative. When Nina asked Sophie if she could borrow one of the 
blouses, Sophie decided that she could wear some of the clothes her mother 
bought. It greatly improved the relationship between Sophie and her mother, 
at least on that battlefield.

Sophie's parents disliked Sophie's social activities. First of all, they 
didn't like that she saw Nina all the time. Little did they know that it was 
me she was seeing, and that Nina had found a new boyfriend and hardly ever 
was with Sophie outside school.

Parties were the other problem. They tried all kinds of things to keep 
Sophie from attending. First, they tried to talk her out of it. When that 
didn't help, they tried to arrange other things for her: the movies, 
theatre, concerts, even short weekend holiday trips. That really annoyed 
Sophie, because most of the things they offered her were things they 
normally never would do with her.

The situation was unstable and as I saw it, it was only a matter of time, 
before it would all go up in flames again and Sophie would be back living 
with me.


To be continued.



You can find more stories written by me at:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/henlar/www/
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/henlar






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