The Girl Written by: Jem Aura ©
Chps 21-25
----> TWENTY ONE <----
Tuesday afternoon I picked Polly up from school. We stopped by the bank and the grocery store on the way home. Polly wondered why I had bought such expensive meat (filet mignon) and fresh asparagus, and an expensive bottle of wine. I knew she didn't remember the significance of this particular Tuesday. But when we pulled in through the gate and there was nothing where our Princess Polly had been, she did a double take and then she remembered, dancing in her seat and screaming "Oh my God, It's in the water! Where? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I love to see you get all excited." Laughing out loud at her antics.
Seeing the Princess in the water for the first time, moored comfortably at the end of the pier, she stopped, holding her breath with her hand over her mouth. She glanced from me to her twice and then said, "She's beautiful."
Once on board, she ran around the deck three times in awe of the water. "It's so weird! The ground use to be way down there and now the water is right here."
"Yeah, and no more God Damned ladder! Let's eat!" I yelled.
I set the groceries down by the grill, lit it, and
started ripping into the filets. Polly dug in the sack for the asparagus and
disappeared below. Pulling the cork I poured two glasses of wine and waited for
Polly to come up so we could toast our success. I sat back and breathed in the
moment with all of my senses. The sun was setting across the Gulf (being on the
west coast of
"Where is she?" I asked myself. Turning the steaks I gulped the last swig of wine from my glass and slid down the ladder. "Polly!" I yelled.... nothing. Hearing something I headed forward. The door to the head was closed. I knocked. "Polly? are you in there?"
"Oh, Mitch, I'm... bleeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh..... I'm sick. bleeeeaaaahhhhh.... I think I got the flu." she said, crying and sniffing pitifully.
"No, no sweetheart, you're seasick. It's okay, open up."
The door clicked and she stood there green, her legs wobbling. I grabbed the small trash can and a towel and escorted her to her bed.
She wretched again before we got there, but I soon had her lying on her back with her eyes closed.
"It's important to close your eyes when you feel it coming on. It makes a big difference right away." But before she could have even slightly benefited from it, she threw up on herself. "Here, take the trash can. I'll be right back."
I went and rummaged for some Dramamine, soaked a couple of washcloths with warm water, grabbed another towel, and one of her nightie's. I peeled off her school uniform shirt and began washing her face and chest with one of the washcloths. Unbuttoning her plaid skirt I noticed that it felt wet. I sniffed my fingers - it was urine. I stared down at her in pity. But it was immediately obvious that she was already feeling better having had her eyes closed for a few minutes. "Sweetheart, you peed when you threw up. Get cleaned up and dressed for bed and I'll tuck you in." I got up.
"Hmm? Oh, okay." She said weakly.
I have to check on the meat. I'll be right back.
When I returned she hadn't moved. "Polly? are you still alive?"
"Mmm Hmm." she said in affirmation. She had covered her eyes in the crook of one of her arms, her bare chest still exposed. I sat on the bed beside her and stared long at her breasts, never having had the opportunity to study them closely before. I had been in the habit of not staring at her chest during our snuggle sessions, afraid she would see me. But now I could. She was exquisite.
"Polly honey, you need to get cleaned up. Do you think you can eat something?"
She shook her head. "I'm afraid to open my eyes."
I sat there silently studying her, taking advantage of the opportunity, caressing the arm that was draped across her stomach. her very small breasts were perfectly symmetric. They always had the same shape whether she was standing, sitting, or lying down. - Except that now she had one of her arms stretching up across her eyes which distorted the one, flattening it out slightly. Her nipples were very pale and small, like the size of nickels, but they puffed out all around the edges. I could not help but wonder what it would feel like to suck on them - and then I was angry at myself for doing so. "Sweetie, you'll get used to the motion, the sooner you force yourself to do things, the quicker you will get used to it."
Polly shook her head slowly as I spoke. "Please, can't you help me?"
I could sense some mischievousness in her tone. I felt exposed while cleaning her chest, because she forced herself to watch me while I did even though it made her sick. And now she wanted the whole sponge bath thing. God I wanted it too. I was getting weaker and weaker every time she appeared from the shower topless. I knew I was in trouble a couple of weeks prior when I had been out very early working on the hull and realized that she would be emerging any minute. I dropped everything and positioned myself on the couch as if I had been there all along. And I always encouraged her to crawl into my lap to be held each and every morning. Once I had purposely not been wearing a shirt so that I could feel her soft skin on mine as she curled up for her morning caress. I loved her dearly, and my affections were growing and changing ever since she had begun flirting and acting strange. Now I was becoming her prisoner - doomed to do her bidding regardless of how much I might protest, because in the end she knew how I felt, and what I wanted. There are certain communications that go unsaid and unacknowledged, body language that is built right in to our brains. We knew - and yet we didn't.
"Remember that first day?" I asked. "When I had to wash you? I always wondered why you let me do that. I mean it almost seemed like you wanted me to, because now I know how smart and capable you are. You knew how to give yourself a bath."
"I remember you caught me when I slipped. You held on to me so tight because I was so afraid, but I couldn't move at all the way you squeezed me so tight. That's what I dream in the morning when you hold me. It feels so wonderful." She said those last words with intense feeling, stretching out each syllable.
"And you won't feel weird being totally naked, even though you're older now?" I asked, getting up and opening her drawers looking for clean panties. But I didn't hear an answer. "Well? Will you?"
"No.” she said. “I shook my head no, you must not have been looking." She said.
I knew..., she knew...., we knew.... even so, I was feeling gruff and frustrated. If I had taken time to really think about it I would have figured out why. If I had to rank which I would rather have, the following would be the order from best to worst 1) Make love to Polly - because our society magically changed its attitude about it all of a sudden - without any guilt or fear. 2) Be Polly's loving father and hero pretending we have no physical attraction towards one another, and staying clothed when in each other's presence. 3) Be forced to bathe her and hold her naked body and look at her breasts - without being able to do anything about it. That's why I was feeling gruff and frustrated - knowing I was down at number three on the list.
"What's wrong?" She asked sheepishly, sensing my mood.
"Nothing. I just wish you wouldn't make me do this."
"I'm not making you."
"Yes you are. I can tell you are feeling better. So why not do it yourself?"
Polly went quiet for a long while. I sat back down beside her with her clean panties in my hand. She hadn't moved at all, her arm still draped over her eyes. I gave in to temptation again and studied her breasts, nervously fidgetting with her clean panties and noticing this time how perfect and milky smooth her skin was - not a blemish to be seen anywhere.
Polly said, "I don't like that pair. I never wear them. See if you can find The Simpson's pair, with the girl playing the saxophone."
I froze - looking closely at her arm over her eyes. There was a thin black shadow at the bridge of her nose. Polly giggled seeing stunned reaction. I sat calmly sat back, contemplating what I had just done and what she must have seen. I had no-one to blame but myself, but for whatever reason, I got mad. I felt foolish, embarrassed, and manipulated, and I was suddenly pissed off.
"Here, here's a couple of Dramamine pills. Chew them up and don't choke." I said, and went topside.
I ate alone and after dinner went about firing up the engines for the first time, checking the engine cooling systems and generators. By the time I was ready to close up shop, Polly was asleep for the night. I tried to remember the last time she had gone to bed without getting a goodnight kiss... I couldn't.
----> TWENTY TWO <----
The weeks drifted by slowly. Tony referred me to another marina where there were two ship owners needing structural repairs. I must have been driving him a little crazy not having enough to keep me busy while Polly was at school, so now I had a job to go to. I picked her up on my way home each afternoon and we would stop by the same little market that stocked local seasonal vegetables and had a small butcher shop. We fell into a routine back at the boat where I would sit on deck grilling the meat and drinking beer while Polly fussed down below with everything else. The days this time of year were usually warm with infrequent winter bluster and the nights were very cool and breezy. I began feeling the urge to put the Princess through her paces, to see how sweet of a sailer she was. But it was easy to chicken out one more weekend.
For several days after that traumatic night with Polly's seasickness, relations between the two of us had remained strained. She never spoke of what she had seen in my face peeking out from under her arm while I leered at her body. It wasn't like Polly to let things just lay there unresolved. Perhaps she felt it wasn't that big of a deal, I mean, it's not like I actually fondled them. Perhaps it was because she thought I wouldn't realize how clearly she could read everything on my face. Or she thought I thought she couldn't see my face, not being in the same line of sight as the panties. "She's been dwelling in my thoughts so much I'm analyzing every little nuance." I thought. "One might think I was a... I don't know... you'd think I was a love sick teenager doting over the emotional whims of a steady girl - or married, or maybe just a concerned parent - but is this what a parent would be worrying about?"
Polly had been dealing with a daily dread of coming home, becoming queasy and sick shortly after she set foot aboard. True to her strength of spirit, she didn't really complain much and faced it down each day, but I had finally insisted she see the doctor to get some prescription medication that might serve her better than the over-the-counter Dramamine. It was a well known fact from centuries of sailing the high seas that any of a variety of opiates, derived from the coca leaf, had amazing results on seasickness, but were also highly addictive. We got her some medicine and it had an immediate and drastic effect, basically opening flood gates that I did not know even existed. When I say that it had an immediate and drastic effect, I' m not necessarily referring to the seasickness. Oh, it did help that, no doubt, but the really dramatic effect was in loosening Polly's tongue. She jabbered on and on about everything and anything, always ending up on sexual topics, quite unaware of how high the medicine was making her feel. The first subject out of her mouth was her breasts, and "would you I like to see them again?"
In her drugged state, I could not get angry or even the least bit frustrated at her antics, which meant there was no easy escape for me. Because that is exactly how I had used the anger before - to escape from her, and myself. So I entertained her in conversation, usually just asking leading questions and then letting her vent her passions and fantasies to me, hoping and praying I would remain immune to her. She often crept into (or across) my lap with her eyes closed (the medicine wasn't perfect, and she closed her eyes whenever possible) while she explored new avenues in her mind regarding her sexual desires and taking great pleasure in peeking out from under her eyelids to see the blush on my face or hear the stammer in my voice as I replied or said something to lead the conversation away. Now it was as regular as our dinners together: She would take a pill on our way home, we would cook and eat, and then she would pin me down into a new conversation leading ever so predictably into sexual topics. And now with the precedent clearly set, I couldn't very easily begin protesting. She was perfectly comfortable now egaging me in these conversations, even though they were very lopsided with Polly doing most of the talking. She was taking full advantage, exploring topics with ever increasing eroticism and intimacy, every possible nook and cranny, until she stated bluntly after a long pause of contemplation, "I sure would like to know what it feels like. You know, having a man's thing inside me. I think about it a lot."
I had become so accustomed to quenching my shock at what would come out of her mouth, noticing that if I was successful in doing so, she would take a new tack and approach from a new angle, pushing the limits of my tolerance further and further until finally I let slip some clue to my shock and embarrassment. Only then would she begin to tone it down, as if that were exactly what she was doing it for.
Even on this occasion, Polly having reached an all time high in shock-factor, I didn't react immediately, and then I decided to stifle it completely and take advantage of the situation, basically calling her bluff - if it was a bluff. And I don't mean take advantage as a man would a pretty girl, I mean as a father trying to teach a lesson.
"Huh, well I guess that's only natural." I said. "Everyone wonders what it will feel like once they start fantasizing about it. But I doubt you realize what it would really be like, you being so young."
"I think I do. I mean, just cause I'm 12 doesn't mean I can't imagine something." She said.
"I don't mean that your mind is too young, I'm talking about your body. You haven't matured very much. Your girlfriends at school are all more physically mature than you. I mean, it's not a bad thing, It's just that it would be like trying to cram a big cucumber into a coin slot."
Polly's eyes widened, on the receiving end of some shock-factor for a change. After the initial shock wore off and she tried to form an opinion about what I had said, she realized that she had never actually tried to imagine in any detail whether it would fit or not. She didn't know how big she could get, and she had assumed that when she saw me naked, that that was about the size of it, but what if she was wrong? She remembered watching some dogs mating once, that the penis grew a lot. "Is that what he's using to indicate how big he is?" she thought, picturing the cucumber in her mind. She had seen huge cucumbers as well as smaller ones.
Finally, after I had thoroughly enjoyed seeing the reaction on her face to the images I had conjured up in her mind, she asked, "So how big is it, when it's big?"
"How big when it's big?" I repeated, mocking her, "Big enough!" I said with finality.
"Yeah. But how big is it really?" She insisted.
"Polly, I am not going to sit here and describe my penis to you."
"Then show me." She said very matter-of-factly, hoping that her matter-of-factness would inspire me to actually do it.
"Oh sure, I'll just whip it out for you to look at." I said, obviously being sarcastic.
"Okay!" she said excitedly, jumping up from my lap, responding as if it were a literal offer, again hoping that somehow it would persuade me to actually do it. I could tell by this behavior that she knew exactly how precariously my resolve was teetering on the edge of a knife.
"Huh." I grunted, feeling the current beginning to sweep me downstream after fighting so hard to keep my head clear and even. "Polly... I know you enjoy playing these games with me, testing my limits, but it's going a little too far now. You really don't have a clue what you would be in for. I know you'd rather me try to actually show you why you don't have a clue, but I can't and I won't. You are going to have to take my word for it. You aren't ready for this, even though you think you are. It's just a game right now. You would regret it every day for the rest of your life. It would be the end of us. Is that really what you want?"
Polly had stood up in her excitement, dancing on tiptoes and shaking out her fingers excitedly, trying to get me to expose myself, but now she stood there stunned as she was forced to listen, absorbing the truth and ultimately feeling childish again. She said, "No... of course not." then after a significant pause, "But... what if you're wrong? I mean, it doesn't make any sense. Why would it be the end of us? It doesn't have to be. I don't see what the big deal is. I'm gonna have sex eventually. Why will it be so different later? I'm in love with you right now, and I don't think I will ever be able to have sex with anyone and not be thinking about you. It would be so cool, you know it would."
I stared at her, wondering where she got all of that tenaciousness. "You really got it bad, don't you?"
Polly nodded. "I can't just take your word for it - because it doesn't make sense. If you can't make me understand why, then I can’t believe you. Not about this." She paused, trying to find some way to pursue her goal further. "I guess I'll..." she trailed off, regretting her new train of thought.
"You'll what?" I asked.
Polly slipped quietly inside herself, looking around for an appropriate punishment, because as effective as her carrots were in bringing me to that precarious edge of my resolve, now she was looking for an appropriate stick to hit me with to send me flying off into her arms. To my surprise she began crying. It seems my dogged and persistent rejection of her had finally ended up hurting her feelings. Or maybe she was simply trying to use her tears to manipulate the situation further, an effective stick in and of itself, I couldn't tell. But of course the tears melted me down and I pulled her back into my arms.
"Sweetheart, what is it now? Look at what you're doing to yourself. Look, if it will help, I will explain it all to you. I won't hold anything back. I hope you'll finally understand, it's not that I'm not attracted to you - you know damned well I am,” I pushed her away from me and tried to mimic that hungry face as my wide eyes stared at her chest. Polly smiled with teary eyes and choked out a laugh, showing that she knew exactly what I meant by it. "There is a million dollars in the bank I'd like to have too, but I don't just go in and take it. There would be consequences. This is no different. I've told you before that people are designed, I mean in our brains we have things going on that were put there over eons of evolution, so that we will have sex without thinking about the consequences. Not very long ago, I mean, yeah, thousands of years is a long time, but we were the same as we are now, there weren't laws to make us think about consequenses - Back then I would have forced sex on you at the first hint that you wanted it, or maybe even if you didn't. It wouldn't matter as long as you got pregnant. That's why those things are inside our brains, to get you pregnant. It would only be much later, after your belly was sticking way out that you might look back and wonder "what the hell was I thinking?” So here's what you haven't thought about: That a man having adult sex with a woman will want to see her in all of her glory, with her legs spread wide open to him, so he can look closely at her vagina and become aroused at the sight, and she would delight in doing it for him. Those things are programmed into us also. Young girls flirt a lot, but they almost always try to keep their legs tightly closed. I can see right now, on your face: That would not be fun for you, huh?"
Polly slowly shook her head no.
"Then, you would be expected to shove it way down your throat, almost certainly gagging if you had never done it before, and then sucking on it in and out, over and over, until sperm was squirting in your mouth. Then, before you can even think about rinsing out your mouth or brushing your teeth, that same penis will be shoved inside you, as deep as it will go," I held up my hands to show her about how long it was, and then how big around, "All the way in and out for as long as it takes to have another orgasm. Then it would all start over again, probably with your butt way up in the air, your vagina sticking out in plain view, and being rammed even deeper and harder. It would hurt at first, and it would hurt again from just being sore, and it would hurt later from just sitting down. About the only thing I can think of that you might be able to look forward to would be the hugging and kissing that would occur once it was all over." I paused for a moment to let this sink in a little. "The fact is, if you were really a woman, you would probably be ripping my clothes off after hearing that, wanting to get started, because that is adult sex. It's fun for adults and terrifying to kids. There is no pain for adults - everything fits just fine."
Polly was speechless. She was feeling a little bit privileged being audience to such talk, but those new images did scare her a whole lot.
"Part of the problem is that you think you are in control, that you can make things happen just the way you imagine, but the fact is, there is a tipping point at which all of the flirting is over and the man takes control. He becomes a bull that will not be denied. Things will end up exactly the way they are intended, with him ramming his penis deep inside and depositing his sperm there. That is the only reason we have sex. Those things in our brains allow us to believe all sorts of lies about it, but in the end, that is the only reason. Way back when there were no laws, this would have been the time for you to become pregnant. It would have been a nightmare for you - probably very much like being raped, and maybe by several men. It would have been fun for them, but certainly a nightmare for you."
"So, you see, It might start out fun, playing at it for a while without actually doing it, but eventually I would begin to be controlled by those things in my head, and I would start manipulating you into doing it. I don't want to hurt you Polly. I love you too much."
Polly gave me a very gratifying, sleepy smile. A very loving smile: Just like a toddler that purposely wanders off, wanting to feel the firm yank of a caring hand pulling him or her back from the edge of becoming lost, testing their love. Polly felt that same deep peace of mind, all the way down to her soul. It proclaimed me as her true one. She could feel now, more than ever before, that Mitchell Wilkes would always do what was right by her regardless of how far astray she drifted. It was the peace that comes with feeling completely secure.
We sat there looking at each other, soaking in the moment of intimacy and understanding, until Polly slid back into her fetal position on my lap and said, "Can we still snuggle sometimes like we use to?"
Ever since that evening when she saw me leering at her, I had been avoiding those sessions as much as possible, feeling my willpower to be much weaker knowing what she knew about my desires, and imagining how uncomfortable and self-conscious I would be. "I will always love snuggling with you, but you better put a shirt on from now on."
"What? Awe, that'll take all the fun out of it." She whined.
"I know, it won't be the same for me either. It's just that... shit... It's like if you are on a diet, the last thing you want is a big glass jar full of cookies right there in plain view. Why torture me? Those things in my brain get turned on by the sight of a beautiful naked girl. I know it seems like I have the willpower to just keep saying no, but I really don't. If you weren't the sweet girl I know you to be, if you were just a little more manipulative and conniving, you could get me to do anything. So please don't try. It really is torture."
Another long pause in our conversation left me wondering what was going on in her mind. The stillness was continually being interrupted by Polly's deep sighs, grunts, and squirms, all indicating some kind of growing mental frustration.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Nothing-uh!" she said, sounding bratty.
"What happened? I thought we finally understood each other. What is it now?" I asked, letting my frustration show a little.
"NOTHING-UH! I don't want to talk about it any more." she said, and then went quiet for a long while. It was obvious that even though everything I said was true, and it all made perfect sense, her balloon was still popped and she was feeling many regrets forming inside of her. Finally I dared to speak to her even after her warning.
"Polly, you know I'm not against you playing the game. It's me. I'm the one that can't handle it. Any man that believes he can would end up having sex with you. You're damned lucky it's me."
"Oh, yeah, lucky." she said, sarcasm oozing out of everywhere. "How can I play the game if you won't play and I can't have a boyfriend?" she was practically screaming at this point.
"Who said you can't have a boyfriend?" I asked.
"You did. You said you won't let me play the game with anyone else. Too dangerous, you said."
"Oh, I guess I did... Well, I was right, it is too dangerous, but that was before we started talking about it. I think if we go over all of the risks, I mean, so you really understand what's going on, I think I could trust you with a boyfriend."
This did not fit any of the fantasies that had been charging her batteries all this time. In fact, it stung in her mind to realize I would actually let someone else touch her when I, the star in those fantasies, wouldn't. Explaining the reasons would never help. If you ever find yourself wondering why reason and logic don't get you very far in a relationship, this is why: A woman is designed to react strongly and emotionally when the man she adores behaves in certain ways (offering her up to someone else for instance). She could no more shut off that intense feeling of hurt than she could cut off her own arm. It just was. Polly jerked her head up and bored her eyes into mine before bolting from the room and slamming the door to her cabin.
----> TWENTY THREE <----
We had fallen out of the habit of snuggling on the couch. But having ended the eveing on such a sour note, I felt it might be just the thing to point out what is really imortant. I waited for her on the couch, armed with a t-shirt. Polly came out, towel on head, pantied but topless. She headed straight for her cabin not seeing me sitting there in the semi twilit cabin.
"Sweetheart..." I said softly.
She stopped and turned her head, keeping her breasts on the lee side of her body, out of sight. She just stared placidly. I held up the shirt as an invitation to join me. She studied me, and then she studied her feelings. She made her decision, but still she stood there just staring at me at length. Eventually she backed up slowly, took the shirt, and with her back to me removed the towel from her head, put on the shirt, and replaced the towel. Again she stood there looking down at me. I tugged on her arm coaxing her for several long moments, she painfully forced herself to come into my arms. Neither of us spoke a word as I methodically caressed all of her favorite spots with well practiced techniques. She was late to class and neither of us cared.
It would seem strange after such an intense emotional escapade that Polly would be even more energized to fall right back into it - the very next night. A pill was swallowed after school, groceries purchased, pork steaks grilled, beer sipped, vegetables steamed, bread smothered in garlic butter toasted, dinner eaten, my shower taken, and then: there's Polly, worming her way into owning my full attention.
"Okay, so IF I had a boyfriend, why would it be so dangerous?"
I breathed deeply and then let out a long sigh. Even though Polly was eager to dive in, I wasn't. It takes a lot less energy to push against boundaries, testing them, than it does to erect and maintain them.
She heard the lack of enthusiasm in my long pause and sigh, "What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing, I'm still a little exhausted from our talk last night."
"I'm not. I had a really cool day at school."
"Well, tell me about that. I'm not too tired to listen."
"Okay." She said, bouncing up excitedly and positioning herself better. She turned on the couch so that she was leaning back against the arm trying to face me as much and possible. She then draped her legs across my lap, tucked her hair behind her ears, and folded her hands in her lap. "It was so awesome. I told Angie during morning recess that you said I could have a boyfriend..."
"Polly..." I interrupted, "You shouldn't tell your friends everything we talk about...especially that. What if she tells her parents?"
"I know. I made her promise." A sheepish look emerged on her face, somewhat guilty.
"What?" I asked immediately, knowing that look. "What happened?"
"She already told some other girls. They were teasing me when I came out of class. But the good part is they weren't being mean, they want to be friends with me now. And there were some boys watching me too, so I think they heard it too. But later there was this really cute boy..."
"You sounded so hopeless last night, like a boyfriend was the last thing in the world you wanted. It only took one day for you to change your mind?"
"No. Not really. I mean he's cute and all, but... I don't know."
"What?" I asked with a cut in my voice that indicated I was not going to let it rest.
"I don't know." she whined. "It's hard to describe...” Then she squared her shoulders and came out with it “They're all so immature!"
I chuckled slightly, "And you're not?"
Polly was indignant, "No-way! God! Everybody knows that girls mature faster, and especially in sixth grade. It's like the worst then." Polly's eyes had grown large. "Some of the girls in my class have bigger boobs than my teacher."
"Really, I had no idea. What, does your teacher have really small boobs or something?" I was being sarcastic.
"No."
"I'm just kidding. I've seen the girls you walk out with. From a distance they look like high schoolers. I have to admit, Polly, I kind of knew that the boys would be too young. I really don't like thinking about you being with a boy, fooling around like that. It's been bothering me ever since I said it."
"It has? Really?" She asked hopefully. I was tempted to take it back by saying "Not because I would be jealous - but because you're too young." which would have been a lie (at least about the jealousy) , but I decided to leave it alone.
"So, do you still want me to teach you?"
Polly's eyes grew and her face slowly brightened, "Yes." she said and nodded vigorously - and then I realized my mistake and I quickly added "What I mean is: teach you about the risks of having sex with a boy."
"Oh." she said, deflating quickly. And then she recovered herself and smiled, saying "I thought you meant like really teach me..." and she laughed at herself for acting so stupid. "...I guess so. I know about aids and condoms and stuff. You think I don't know anything, but I bet I already know what you're going to tell me."
"Maybe you do. But you don't mind if I make sure, do you?"
"No."
"Okay. Well, let's see... I think I can do this fairly quickly: There's just a few things that you need to know: First, if you don't want to get sick or pregnant you have to plan ahead and be prepared. The problem is that when young people have sex, it is always a spontaneous event, never planned. Chances are neither of you will have a condom and the boy will be trying to talk you into doing it anyway. You will probably say no, but he won't give up. He'll promise that he will only put it in for a moment, and he will pull it out before he ejaculates, and since you are really wanting to try as bad as he is, you make him promise again, hope to die and all of that, and you go ahead and let him. But you would still end up pregnant."
"Not if he did what he promised." She said.
"Even if he did exactly as he promised, you would still get pregnant. The only reason you might not is if you were not ready, you know, if you didn't happen to be ovulating at the time."
"God, you're such a liar. Making stuff up trying to scare me isn't going to keep me from doing it."
"I hoped a simple "no" from me would have been enough. But I guess not." I said, acting more hurt than I was.
"I didn't mean it like that you big dork. I'm saying don't just make things up. I'm not stupid."
"No, you're not. You might be the smartest person I've ever known. But being smart cannot make up for a lack of knowledge. Just because you don't know something or don't have experience, doesn't make you stupid. On the other hand, even the smartest people act stupid when it comes to sex. Do you think it might be possible that there a few things about sex you aren't aware of?
"Of course."
"Okay then, don't be so quick to call someone a liar. You should always give people the benefit of the doubt, considering there will always be doubt." I looked at Polly seriously to see if she was again receptive to what I needed to tell her, but she wasn't. She was somewhat hurt due to my rough handling. "It sounds to me like you might not be ready for this. You seem to be fighting against the truth I am trying to tell you. Are you ready for this or aren't you?"
Polly "Polly-jized" as only Polly can, begging me to go on and making me feel like a low-life-scum-sucking-pig for making her feel bad enough to need to "Polly-jize" in the first place.
"Okay, okay... I'll tell you. ...a boy your age gets so excited at nudity and the prospect of sex that he can't last but a moment before he shoots off. He probably wouldn't even get it in all the way before he did. So, if after working up to it for so long, anticipating the wonderfulness of it all, being so excited to be fulfilled sexually, and then before you even realize anything is happening, it's over. He has to pull out like he promised and you're done. Would you be satisfied with that? Would you feel like that was enough? Would you put your clothes back on and start doing your homework?" I waited for her to say something.
"No." She said meekly.
"Well, what would you do then?"
"I guess like after a while we'd try again."
"That's right. You certainly would. So what you don't know is that there will be thousands and thousands of sperm seeping out of his penis for up to an hour after he ejaculates, even longer maybe. They are microscopic, and it only takes one. There's no way to clean out the inside of his penis." I said seriously.
"Oh," she said, looking at her hands and feeling foolish.
"It's okay sweetheart, that little fact escapes everyone. Anyway, sometimes a boy will be so embarrassed because he started ejaculating so quickly that he will pretend he didn't: If a boy ever loses his erection during intercourse, you can bet he had an orgasm and didn't say anything. But some boys could care less what you might think. In that case, he might get you to masturbate him or give him oral sex so that he will last longer during intercourse, which actually does work, but the residual sperm will still be there inside his penis, seeping out.
Secondly, the only way to get an STD is to have sex with someone who is sick with one. If you only have sex with boys who have never had sex, then you can't catch one, which is a very good reason why you should avoid older boys and men and just be with boys your own age."
Polly rolled some fuzz she had picked off the couch between her fingers, absently pondering everything. "Do you have any sex diseases?" she asked.
"Yes, I do. I have genital herpes."
"You do? What does it do? I mean, are you sick?" She asked. Polly's love for me immediately shone out. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, that I wasn't the super-hero she imagined me to be, instead she showed genuine concern for my welfare and her own wants and needs were temporarily put aside.
"No sweetheart, it’s okay. I'm lucky. It's been many years since I've had any sign of it. It's a nuisance more than anything. You don't need to worry about me."
She was relieved and I could see the tension melt away.
"So how can I protect myself from all of that?" Polly asked.
"You already have."
"Huh? You haven't told me anything yet." She said confused
"I've told you what you need to know. You're smart enough to protect yourself now that you know what the true risks are." I watched as her mind began working to solve the problems that her fantasies would expose her to.
"Oh, I almost forgot, there is something else you should know: You shouldn't rely on condoms. They are unreliable, they don't fit a boy's smaller penis very well, boys hate them and will avoid using them if they can, girls don't like them either because of all the worry and the way it ruins the mood putting it on, and they are never available when you need them. Take responsibility for your safety yourself. Don't leave it to the boy. There are many other types of birth control and things you can do to make sure you will be safe. But remember Polly, As soon as you are a little older, many of the boys will have had sexual experiences, and you will need to start using condoms then. Condoms really do spoil the fun, and they mask many of the wonderful sensations of making love. That is why I want you to experience it now, so you won't be forced to try it later without a condom just to know what it feels like. You'll already know. So for now, let's just keep you from getting pregnant."
"You mean like the pill?"
"Yeah, but I'm not sure, at your age, if that would be best. We will have to find out. There's new stuff coming out all of the time." I paused, trying to remember another bullet off of my list of things I wanted to tell her. "About the diseases, even though in 6th grade the chances of a boy having an STD is pretty slim, you should get in the habit of examining his penis very closely to make sure there are no blisters or scabs visible. If it looks at all like there are blemishes or something un-natural, the best thing is to avoid any sexual contact. But if there is no avoiding it, then you should make him wash with an anti-bacterial soap and use a condom."
"Do you think he would let me look at it like that?"
"Polly, you don't give him a choice. You simply say that if he wants to do anything, he's going to have to let you examine him."
Polly smiled a little imagining giving her cute boy a thorough exam. I could see her excitement building.
"That's right, it can be fun. But he might decide to examine you the same way - which is only fair."
Now Polly showed some natural misgivings. "I don't think I could do that. I mean, get totally naked with a boy and have lights on and everything. I always pictured being in the dark and under the covers."
"Yeah, I know. That can come later, after you know each other better and there's no need to examine him. You know, if you find a boy you really like, and you like sex with him, if you promise each other to not sleep with anyone else then you can keep having sex on through high school without worrying about diseases." I paused again, thinking. "Boy's love oral sex. If you do it really well they don't miss the other that much. So if for whatever reason you aren't prepared to have intercourse, knowing how to do it will save you having to fight him off. And you shouldn't worry about a boy seeing your body. It's the most exciting thing in the world for guys. Just be careful if you don't intend to have intercourse. Some boys have an instinct built into them to force you to have sex even if you say no. Being naked in front of them when you say no might trigger it. I mean, just be prepared to really fight him off, even if it means pretending you will let him do it and then konking him on the head when he's not looking. But if you think you can trust the boy, he will worship you for letting him look at you naked. You remember about how I described adult sex? The open nudity becomes symbolic of the trust you have for each other. When you trust someone completely with your feelings, there is this ultimate freedom that comes over you when you see the wonderful excitement on his face when he looks at your body. Talk to each other, tell him how sexy and wonderful he looks. That will prompt him to tell you as well, and as sexy as you are he will be saying things like "You are the most amazing, wonderful, beautiful creature in the entire universe!" But you're right about making sweet love under the covers too. It depends on the mood. So who is this boy you thought was so cute?"
"Tyler Johnson." she said drunkenly. "He's in Amy's class."
I had forgotten that she might not have all of her faculties, considering we were dealing with a 12 year old adolescent girl with feel good drugs and hormones coursing through her veins. The devil sparked in her eyes as she pictured him in her mind again.
"Wait a second, You mean the tall boy with the long hair?"
"How do you know...?" She asked in awe of my superpowers.
"I've talked to his dad a few times, waiting for school to let out. He heard that we lived on a big sailboat and wanted to offer his help. He wants to learn how to sail. Are you sure you didn't know about that? This is a little too convenient for me to believe. You know how I am about coincidences."
Polly innocently shook her head no, "I swear, I had no idea you knew his dad."
"Huh. Lucky you then."
"What? Why lucky me?" she asked.
"Because, it will be easy to get together with him, we just invite him and his dad to go sailing. And you won't have to get all embarrassed trying to break the ice with him." Polly was staring blankly at me. "Know what I mean?" I asked.
"No, why would I get embarrassed?"
"You know, it's hard to tell someone you like them, when you don't know how they will react to it."
"No it isn’t. I already did."
"You did?" I asked truly shocked.
"When I was waiting for Amy at her classroom, I was
looking at all the boys... because I really hadn't looked before. When
"Just like that? You just blurt it out, in front of everyone?"
"Well, not exactly. My exact words were... "You are sooo cute. Do you know how cute you are?"
After a stunned pause I asked "And what did he say?"
"He said he thought I was cute too."
"My God! Have you planned the wedding yet?"
"Very funny, hardy-har-har." she said
----> TWENTY FOUR <----
We sat there on the couch for a while, finding it difficult to continue our conversation, most other topics seeming bland compared to where we had just been. Eventually we went our seperate ways, snacking in the kitchen, switching out the laundry... but in a few minutes we were back on the couch fighting for the TV remote. During the break I had dwelt on what other topics we could talk about, finding it odd that it was so difficult to get away from the usual titillating discussions. Eventually I found one that I intended to pursue.
"Hey Polly, do you remember when I first found you, we were in the car and I asked you how you chipped your teeth? You promised some day you would tell me what happened. So, how about now?"
A moments reflection and that now unfamiliar look of pain washed over her - which sparked my memory of how she looked that first day. I had forgotten she was ever like that, so withdrawn and supressed. She looked inside herself for whatever strength she would require to relive the nightmare, and then something happened, something good and exciting. Polly's eyes lit up as she exclaimed: "Oh my God! Mitch, I forgot about my aunt Cecilia!"
"Your what?"
"My aunt Cecilia! She was so nice to me, and my momma hated her. I almost never got to see her and I loved her so much. I wished and hoped and prayed somehow she would become my momma instead. Oh Mitch, you gotta find her and tell her where I am. You gotta meet her!" she said so excitedly, jumping up and pacing back and forth waving her arms dramatically. "How could I have forgotten her for so long?"
"It's no surprise to me that you forgot about her. She was part of your old life, and you're naturally forgetting all of it, even that one good part." I calmed her down and had her tell me the whole story. I had been lightly running my fingers along her arm as she did, and when Darryl Jenks entered the story my hand stopped and I held nervously on to her forearm. By the time Polly had told what he did, I was squeezing her arm so tightly that she yowled in pain.
"Oh, sorry Polly." I said, my anger barely controlled.
"I'm glad you weren't there." she said with big eyes, being very serious. "You would have killed him, and you'd be in jail instead."
"Go get my laptop princess." I said.
"why?"
"We'll find your aunt. I promise. That guy in
----> TWENTY FIVE <----
The first weekend in March was predicted to be a superb kite flying weekend. And that meant it would be a superb sailing weekend as well. I told Polly that she could invite some friends for an overnight cruise down the coast, as long as her friend Tyler's father could come along as second lieutenant (Polly being my first). When the dust from planning the cruise settled, there were four girls (including Polly), one boy, Frank and myself on the ship's roster.
The spring so'westers were indeed blowing and it was shaping up to be a fabulous weekend. The only hitch that occurred was when Frank arrived with a different boy than the one that was expected: Polly's cute boy Tyler had come down with the flu, and his father had brought his older and drop-dead-gorgeous (to the girls) son Ryan to take his place. They were the last one's to arrive and once they and their luggage was aboard, the Princess began idling smoothly down the long line of slips toward the harbor.
The girls were talking excitedly as a fast moving blob of
bodies that flitted about the boat. Ryan leaned in toward his dad's ear,
"Those girls are in
"I know, scary isn't it? That one's Polly, she's more what you might expect. But the others..." He shook his hand loosely in front of his chest and whistled.
"Wow." was all Ryan could manage to say as he gawked at them peeling off layers and exposing various types of bikinis. The girls, each in their turn, were stealing glances at Ryan as well.
"You see that Ryan? They already have the hots for you. That's my boy! Go get 'em tiger."
"Daaaad!" Ryan cried, knowing the girls must have heard his father. The girls giggled and squeaked as they went below to explore.
The Princess went to sea, idling smoothly through the breakwater and out amongst the swells. It was a brisk breeze that blew out of the southwest, which put The Princess on the reach as she plied some distance from the shore. The sails went up and the deck leaned over until the turquoise water was licking her gunwale. The girls appeared on the bow out of the forward hatch and clung to each other with nervous excitement. I immediately saw the danger and shouted at the girls to sit down and quit walking precariously about on the wet slanted surface, but I was too late: one of the girls slipped while my voice was still hanging in the air and bounced off of her butt and right into the ocean.
"Frank! Keep her in sight. Don't take your eyes off of her!" I bellowed.
I was not a very experienced sailor. My two years on the
Sweetheart were mostly spent docked comfortably in my slip at the marina,
procrastinating out of fear to ever stretch my limits with her. I did run her
over to
"Ryan! Take the wheel! Point her straight into the
wind!" Ryan bounded up to the wheelhouse and seemed up to the challenge. I
started the engines and gave her enough throttle to make sure she would steer.
The sails were shivering and complaining loudly as I ran to take them in. The
The girl was soon in plain sight, wide eyed and paddling like a duckling so hard that her shoulders were out of the water. Frank hoisted her aboard so forcefully that she landed lightly on her feet.
No one said a word about the incident, but I noted that from that moment on everyone of their own accord was wearing a life vest and holding on to something while on deck for the remainder of the cruise. I also noticed that when the excitement was over, Ryan complained about feeling sick and Polly quickly came to his rescue with one of her pills. Then it dawned on me that the other girls must have been stoned from her pills when the 'girl overboard' occurred. It made sense, and I decided to mention, at some convenient moment, that she should swear her friends to secrecy about the pills. I marvelled at how quickly everything could spin out of control.
Once everything had settled down and Frank and I had opened our second beer, Polly shouted across the deck "Mitch, we wanna sun bathe with our tops off. Is that okay? We won't go..."
My mouth came open but Frank spoke up quickly saying "Sure you can! no problem, you girls can do what ever you want." Polly disappeared behind the cabin satisfied that Frank's permission held the same weight as mine. I will have to teach him (and her) about the chain of command.
Ryan gave us both a worried look, wondering what it would mean for him. His dad quickly solidified his fear by elbowing him in the ribs and saying, "Go ahead Ryan, go take a look. Just remember to report back to your poor old dad. Alas, if I were but a young lad again..." he said intentionally sounding like a sea dog sailor and laughing as loud as one.
"Forget it dad, God they're like in 6th grade!"
"Oh, so 8th grade makes you a man of the world? You know, you'll figure out sooner or later, when it comes down to it, a breast is a breast is a breast. The only ones that aren't worth looking at are the old ones that are all saggy. And by the way, when you're 82 years old, they will be 80, so big deal! You gotta catch your thrills when they fall in your lap. It ain't no crime to look for God's sake. I'm getting worried about you boy. Don't you like girls?"
"Yes, you know I do..." Ryan said respectfully,
but then turning to me, "He's just kidding around, he's always trying to
embarrass
I wanted to say to Frank that the girls were high on a prescription anti-seasickness drug that had the noted effect of increasing sexual promiscuity, but I could hear him asking: "and how did you find out about the drugs effects?" with a wink and a nudge in my ribs. No, I couldn't very well say anything. Just like dirty weather at sea, I will just have to steer as wide as I can and weather the storm. I called Ryan back to the helm and gave him a quick lesson in sailing. Eventually I was satisfied that he could safely keep us on our current tack without capping us over. I quickly dove below and coming up to the forward hatch I knocked on it. The hatch opened and Polly stood there in all her glory squinting into the darkness. There were excited voices behind her and she told them it was her dad.
"Hey, put your top on and come down here. I need to talk to you."
After she had descended the ladder, happy and as innocent as an angel she said, "Yeah?" But when her eyes adjusted and saw my face, she took a step back and crossed her arms.
"It's alright sweet-stuff, I'm not mad. I just want to..." I took her arm and pulled her away from the hatch where we could both hear the other girls shushing each other, trying to hear what was going on. Whispering I continued, "...I just want to tell you that those pills are making you all a little crazy, especially them.” I said, indicating the other girls. “You've gotten used to them. Their parents would probably be very upset if they found out - either about the pills or the topless sunbathing, and especially about Trish falling in without a life jacket. If her parents find out everything that has happened, everything I just mentioned, I might be going to jail. And when you ask me if you can do something, and someone else answers, that is not permission to do it. You are smart enough to know all of this already. I shouldn't have to tell you - which makes me think those pills are affecting your judgement more than you know. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Polly nodded, not sure if she should make some kind of a stand considering that I sure sounded mad to her. "So I want you to tell your friends that I, the captain of the ship, did not give permission to get topless, and if they want to avoid walking the plank or being lashed to the mast to be flogged, they will maintain the appearance of decent and respectable young girls." Polly opened her mouth but I quickly went on, "And you will somehow make them swear, upon your life, that they won't tell about the life-jackets, or Trish falling in, or the pills... And speaking of, where are they?"
Now she was defiant: face aghast and hands on hips she stared at my hand that demanded delivery of the bottle of pills. "They are addictive Polly. They are made from the same stuff that your mother is hooked on."
That set her back. Doubt washed over her face as she considered. After a moment’s further thought she dutifully marched to her cabin and delivered them up.
As Polly began to climb the ladder (after I had picked her up and held her in my arms and kissed her face a few times to reassure her that I was not mad at her) the Princess's bow rose to an extreme angle, yawed and heeled uncomfortably, and then settled down with a strong jolt. Sea spray rained in through the hatch. Polly was flung aside and nearly lost her grip on the ladder. I plucked her off and quickly ascended to see what was going on. Standing on the top step and looking aft, I could see a large rogue swell as it danced away. As a matter of course, I scanned the horizon for any more troubles: All was well. Then my eyes fell onto the bodies that lay sprawled out on the deck. They were wet from the spray. Two were facing away and had their eyes closed, one had her hand as a visor looking at me and slowly, very slowly and deliberately, covered herself with her free arm. She smiled, and then uncovered herself, letting her head fall back again. "It's the drugs." I thought. She's was undoubtedly stoned the way Polly was that first time. The cool spray and heaving of the deck didn't disturb them at all. They could be babes to the slaughter and they wouldn't have a care. I also thought how precisely correct Frank was in his dissertation about breasts - they were incredibly alluring despite the fact that they were on 6th graders.
Polly slapped my leg to get me off the ladder. When she emerged I pointed out how stoned her friends were. "Look at 'em, they don't even try to cover themselves up with me standing here. Make sure they put their tops back on."
At the sound of my voice the girls roused and sat up, reaching sluggishly for their bikini tops. Polly's voice faded away as I went back to the wheel. "I am sooo in trouble you guys, you gotta swear you won't..."
Late that afternoon I went below and checked our GPS
position and the tide tables. We were near