NORA'S EYES

Chapter 8

Author�s note:

The following is a novella in eight chapters, a little over forty-one thousand words, approximately one hundred pages long. I wanted to create a story that was more than an assortment of single romps, the individual tales of sexual encounters between an adult and a child. I wanted to tell the complete story detailing the relationship between a grown man and a little girl; their acquaintance, the internal struggle of such a union, the growth of their companionship, and a resolution to the problems surrounding it.

I hope you will find it a flowing, moving story, evoking a few smiles, anger, happiness, and perhaps even a tear or two. Ben

Special thanks to Bob, an avid follower of this site from Great Britain, who gave huge amounts of time and effort into proofreading this work.

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted 2017 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted.

Standard Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material and as such it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. If you are offended by stories featuring group sex, bisexual situations, incest, sex between minors and adults, or any other situation, please check the story code before reading the text. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein, especially when it comes to unsafe sexual practices or sex between adults and minors.

The next day was a little brighter. I showed Nora how to make pancakes. Then we watched a movie. I would have to get more soon at this rate.

Around two o�clock the phone rang. Caller ID informed me it was Mack.

�Hey, Mack. All taken care of?�

�Not exactly.�

Oh, no. Not more hassles. �What now, for crissakes!�

�I went to her apartment with my briefcase and got there just as they were carrying her out on a stretcher. She�s dead, Scott.�

�What!� After a momentary pause my exclamation was a quiet one, etched with shock and surprise.

�OD. Still had the needle in her arm when they found her. A friend of mine on the force says they think she got hold of some high quality, uncut stuff and it took her out like a light.�

I puzzled over it for a minute before saying, �That doesn�t make any sense. Mallette is a small time pusher. He wouldn�t have access to that kind of shit.�

�Yeah, well, it seems he did. Three of his other clients got the same stuff, with the same results. He�s in jail right now charged with four counts of manslaughter. Of course, he�s protesting his innocence.�

�How�d they find her?�

�Anonymous call to the precinct.�

�It has to be a setup.�

�Could be. It seems Mr. Mallette was a creature of habit. He went to the same alley every Monday, removed a brick from the wall of a particular building, extracted his new supply of drugs for sale, and deposited the cash for those he pushed the previous week. It was common knowledge on the street. Anybody with a grudge against him, and I am sure there are many, could have substituted the better grade stuff knowing what the outcome would be.�

I didn�t want to ask the next question. My imagination had already begun to make accusations, but I had to know. �Who?�

Mack�s response came back quickly, so I dismissed my thoughts. Apparently he had been thinking along similar lines. �A rival dealer maybe. Someone looking to expand his clientele.�

�You know there is a chance we could be accused of this.�

�A slim chance. The detective said it looked cut and dried. Mallette got drugs he was supposed to cut and didn�t. They have their man as far as they�re concerned.�

�Did they find anything incriminating in her apartment?� I asked.

�No. Nothing except thirty-seven hundred dollars stuffed in a drawer. That money will go to pay off outstanding bills.�

�What will happen to her body?�

�It�ll be cremated and buried in a potter�s field, probably on Staten Island.�

�No,� I said. �I don�t want that. Get her a plot somewhere and a stone, in case Nora wants to visit it some time.�

Mack sighed. I knew he didn�t agree with me about it, but he replied, �Okay.�

After the call ended I was faced with the task of telling Nora her mother was dead. She seemed unfazed by it. There were no tears, no look of shock or surprise. I explained about the arrangements being made in case she ever wanted to pay her respects. She nodded she understood.

Something troubled me, though and I wanted to make sure she knew the truth.

�Listen, hon, it might appear to some as if I had a hand in her death. I swear with all my heart, I had nothing to do with this. I only offered her money to back away. I promise.�

She nodded and stretched up to plant a kiss on my cheek. It astounded me to hear her whisper, �Believe you.�

There were no excursions planned for the day. We stayed close to home, venturing out only once to an Asian grocery to pick up ingredients for a Chinese dish we were making.

That evening, when we sat down to eat she had her first lesson in using chop sticks. She did quite well for a beginner, but ended up using a fork. She�ll get the hang of it eventually.

When she came to me before bed she straddled my lap, reaching between my legs to excite me. It didn�t take much, even though it seemed wrong doing this so soon after her mother had passed. But her hands inside the waistband of my briefs worked their magic bringing my cock to a life of its own. She stood long enough to tug them off of me, pulling me to the edge of the cushion. Kneeling she slipped her lips tenderly over the tip.

The warmth and wetness of her mouth made me close my eyes in sheer sexual delight. Her movements were slow, like the first time she gave me head. Small hands caressed my balls, thrilling me.

I reflected on how close I came to losing her. The memory made my heart ache. However, I didn�t want gloomy thoughts to dampen the feelings she was awakening in me.

She climbed back on my lap, legs on either side, and slowly sank onto my shaft. It was marvelous how tight she was, yet how easily she accepted me. Her pussy was already wet and she slid effortlessly up and down.

I loved the sensation, but I wanted more. I wanted more for her. Carefully I stood, bringing her with me. Her legs wrapped around my body, arms around my neck. We stood united in a bond of sexual oneness. I let her pump on me for a while before heading for the bedroom, joined together in the mutual seats of our ecstasy.

When we arrived I didn�t want to let her go. This position was a new sensation. One I truly loved. But I was intent on giving her the pleasure she deserved. I lay her down on the bed still joined. Slowly I pumped myself into her; her delight obvious from the wriggling of her tiny body to the groans escaping her lips.

After a moment I unsheathed myself from her pussy and knelt between her legs. It was time to return the favor, time to make her squirm as she had made me. My tongue dove into her pleasure center, teasing her labial folds, my lips nibbling them.

Nora writhed in the glory of it. I sucked her wetness. My tongue found her throbbing opening and slid into her like a serpent. She enveloped my neck with her legs pulling me to her even tighter.

I was so hard it was a wonder I didn�t come right then, but this wasn�t the right time. There was more to do. I removed my tongue and found her clit. Just the slightest touch made her body twist with delight.

She was starting to become more vocal; moans became louder, movement more erratic. Suddenly she started to buck with pre-orgasmic spasms.

I stopped.

Her head rose from the bed, searching for an answer to my secession of torment. She quickly understood it was to torment her even more. Her smile was weak. Her eyes sought mine, begging for me to continue.

When she saw I was unrelenting in my quest to make her wild she slid up on her butt. She sat on the edge of the bed. Her mouth again engulfed my cock. Now it was her turn to torture me. She brought me quickly to the edge, sensing my nearness. Her tongue teased the tip. Her lips slid over the outer length of the shaft. Then she quit.

A glance in her direction showed me an evil, mischievous mirth written all over her face. But in a second she was up and guiding me down on the bed. She wasted no time in pinning my head, her legs straddled my face making it impossible to do anything except lick her pussy.

This I did with abandon. Nora ground her pussy against me. Soon my face was covered in her juices. She moaned heavily as she quickly came to an orgasm. She was even more vocal than other times I had brought her to a climax. She was rough as well, forcing her sex against my mouth with unbridled passion.

That didn�t bother me. I was fully content to be the recipient of such lust. When she finished she grabbed me by the hand and pulled me from the bed. I didn�t know what was in store next, but I was certain it would be intense.

It was.

She mounted the bed on her hands and knees, her ass pointed my way.

I came close and she reached between her legs taking my dick in her hands and guiding it to her entrance. I slid in and groaned just from the movement. This was the first time doing it doggy-style with her. The novelty of the position was spectacular.

The smallness of her body in comparison to mine, heightened the desire in my loins.

I thrust myself into her as she slammed back against me. We were both in a fit of sexual hunger, neither one of us relenting in our actions. It always amazed me she was able to take my length without experiencing any pain. In a girl that young I would have thought I would be ramming her cervix continually; not that I was particularly long, the standard six and a half inches. Yes, I have measured it. Call me vain.

Generally, when I come, I make a thrust as my sperm erupts from my cock, then more as subsequent ejaculations occur, but this time I continued plunging into her with no stopping. The feeling was extraordinary, causing me continuous waves of release.

Nora was experiencing a second orgasm as well. Her vaginal walls tightened around my shaft, trying to expel me, while ramming against me.

Soon, we both were spent. All our energy drained like water in an unstoppered sink. I collapsed beside her. My arms wrapped around her and we slept.

The next morning we were up early, ready for court. I think we both felt a little nervous, wondering if the previous night might have been the last time we would experience the joys we had shared.

Mack was already in the courtroom when we arrived.

We sat at the table and I told him, �I�m a little worried.�

�Why is that?� he asked.

�The paper trail, the money. It will easily be traceable,� I confided.

�There is no trail,� he told me.

�What about the withdrawals. Five thousand one day, twenty-five the next?�

�Don�t worry about that. I keep a large amount of cash in the safe at the office. Nothing has been removed from your account. It would be probably three months before I accessed that from your bank account.�

I nodded, somewhat relieved, somewhat impressed at his forethought, and somewhat concerned at the thought that arose in my mind. I wouldn�t have been surprised if Mack kept five, or even ten thousand dollars on hand, but the combined amounts totaling thirty thousand dollars seemed unrealistic. I wondered if there really was money in his briefcase when he arrived at Paulette�s in time to see them carry her out. If not, well� I didn�t really want to consider that.

The bailiff and stenographer entered the room, and shortly after, the announcement that Judge Minetti was entering the room.

We stood until he was seated, then we resumed our seats.

�I wish to start off by my offering my condolences to you, Nora, on the passing of your mother,� he said softly.

She nodded. I don�t know if she entirely understood the words, but she was aware of the sentiment.

�Before we begin, I�d like to ask you to accompany Mr. Garrow out into the hall for a few minutes. Okay?�

Again, Nora nodded, accepting the big man�s hand and following him up the aisle. It reminded me of a scene from �Little Miss Marker� I believe, with Shirley Temple and Bill Bojangles Robinson, the stark difference, not only in height, but skin color as well.

�Mrs. Reed, the following is off the record,� he instructed.

�Yes, sir,� she replied.

When they had exited the room, Minetti looked at us. �If I was a competent judge, the convenience of Ms. Cameron�s demise might seem suspicious,� he said, quietly. �If I was a competent judge it would raise concerns about the ruling for Nora�s adoption.� I wasn�t sure where he was going with this, but it worried me. �If I was a competent judge I might delve deeper into such things as money trails, drug acquisitions, and the like.� He spoke softly, with little emotion. �But, many, not only in this room, but in other sectors as well, do not believe I am a competent judge. Who am I to disappoint them?�

He took a moment before continuing, �So, I accept the conclusion by the investigating officers that her death, and the deaths of three others, came as a result of Mr. Mallette�s obtaining hard core heroin and forgetting to cut it appropriately. Plus, it eliminates four individuals who have ruined their lives and probably ruined those of their loved ones. In Nora�s case that was nearly true. I have no pity, no remorse for them. And... it gets a drug dealing child molester off the streets.� He looked at me very closely before adding, �Plus, I really don�t believe you had anything to do with it.�

I didn�t answer, other than a slight nod.

The judge looked up at the door. Mr. Garrow was peeking through a crack. He motioned them back in.

When Nora was seated once again the judge told Mrs. Reed she could start recording. The hearing was called to order.

Judge Minetti said, �I only have about three questions to ask before rendering my decision. Two of them are for you, Mr. Braydon. First, Nora is�� he consulted his notes, �nine years old. She will be going through a metamorphosis soon that will transfer her, I am sure, into a beautiful butterfly.� He smiled at her and she returned the smile. You are a noted bachelor. Are you prepared to deal with the changes a young lady goes through as she matures?�

My answer came quickly, without pause. �Your honor, I have one older sister and two younger ones. I am quite well versed in the changes a young woman goes through as she matures, and quite prepared to deal with them.�

He nodded his approval.

�Let me ask you this then, why Nora? Why do you want to adopt this young lady? What connects the two of you?�

Once again my answer was without pause. �Empathy.�

He sat up in his seat, clearly surprised. �Empathy? You are one of the wealthiest men in the city. Nora is literally a child of the gutter. How can there be empathy there?�

It was my turn to soften my tone, to express my emotions with my words. �I was raised, one of four children, by a single mom who worked three part-time jobs to try to make ends meet. She tried her hardest, but sometimes there was scant food. We piled under heaps of blankets at night in the winter to save on heat and slept on the escape in the summer because there was no air conditioning; not even a fan. Our clothes were worn and out of date, frequently ill-fitting. My older sister took on the role of mother because ours was working herself into an early grave on our behalf. When she became old enough to get work I took over. I learned to cook, do the laundry, and clean house. I made sure the younger ones got their homework done and helped in any way I could. When Mom and my sister would come home from work I made sure they had some kind of hot meal waiting for them.�

I took a breath before continuing. The memories churned up emotions I hadn�t visited in years.

�Then, I grew old enough to work and got a job bussing tables in a diner. A fortunate accident... fortunate for me, unfortunate for the cook, moved me to the position of cook. I was very good at what I did and ended up securing a position at a fancier restaurant. Pretty soon I had worked my way up to assistant to the chef. The job was lucrative enough to allow me to pay my way through college as a journalism major. After graduation I took a position on a newspaper. I am an avid reader and decided one day I could do as well as some of the authors I read, so I wrote a book. The rest is history, as they say.�

He seemed satisfied with my answer. He made no comment, but turned to Nora.

�Nora, my last question is for you. I know you are hesitant to speak much, but when Mrs. Grainger met with you the first time she asked you how you felt about staying with Mr. Braydon. You told her you felt safe and warm, as I recall. Now that you have had more time to get acquainted and settled a bit how do you feel about it?� Minetti asked.

She answered plain and clear, �Happy and loved.�

That answer made my heart swell.

It seemed to impress the judge as well. He raised his gavel and spoke.

�In lieu of Ms. Cameron�s passing, and her last words to the court, which was a desire to relinquish her parental rights in favor of Nora�s adoption, and since the court finds no objection to the contrary, I hereby grant Mr. Scott Braydon�s petition for adoption of Nora Cameron.� The gavel came down with a resounding bang.

He looked at the lady sitting beside Nora and said, �Mrs. Grainger, I expect you will make the necessary visits, file the appropriate paperwork, and make the required reports?�

�Gladly, your Honor,� she replied.

�Finalization of the adoption will be one year from this date, pending all of the proper documentation. This hearing is adjourned.� He rapped the gavel one more time and rose to leave.

From beside me a tiny voice said, �Thank you.�

Judge Minetti turned to look at Nora. He didn�t speak, but nodded and left the room, his eyes watering.

Nora flung her arms around me in a big hug. I glanced toward the judge�s chamber door. Minetti peered through a crack and I believe I saw satisfaction in his eyes. He knew he had done the right thing.

Mack was just getting off the phone when I turned to thank him. He said, �That was my associate. He was at Mallette�s arraignment. We offered him a deal and he accepted. He pled guilty to all charges of manslaughter and possession and sale of narcotics and we dropped the molestation charges. This way Nora won�t have to face him in court and he can go to prison for the rest of his life without the stigma of being a sexual predator. Other prisoners don�t take kindly to that,� he said with a smirk.

I shook his hand and thanked him for all he had done.

While my hand was still in his grasp he looked me straight in the eye and said, �I had nothing to do with Paulette�s death. Just so you know.�

That was all the assurance I needed. I nodded, relieved.

I tried to get a small party together for lunch to celebrate, but both Ida and Mack were busy with other matters. In the end I took Nora to Danny Wong�s, a Chinese restaurant. She wanted a chance to give chop sticks another try. Danny was an old friend of mine and he gave her some pointers as we ate. She did well, never resorting to a fork.

While we were there a woman approached with one of my books, sheepishly asking if I would autograph it. I never refused a fan�s request. I figure it�s only a signature. You do it all day long on checks, form, letters, bills, plus these people are the ones that give you the opportunity to make a living doing something you enjoy. I always endorse it with the same inscription in such cases; using their name I add �I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it, Scott Braydon.�

At home that night, when Nora came to me it was an entirely different feeling from the past few nights. Things were final, set in stone. I had no reservations anything would disrupt the process now.

Even Nora seemed more relaxed.

She climbed up on my lap, straddling my legs.

I got an evil grin on my face and said, �I remember making a promise when all this was settled I would tickle you unmercifully.� Immediately I flung her to the side on the couch and began to make good on my promise.

She screamed and fought, laughing at the top of her lungs and squirming to get free. When I ceased, I pulled her back up into the position she had previously occupied. Her face was streaked with tears of laughter. I�ll bet that had never before happened in her lifetime.

Things would be different for her now. She would have the best of everything, see the world, take part in all its greatness. Her life would be like a Dickens novel, from rags to riches, except, unlike Little Dorrit, she would never return to rags.

She would be mine. Not in a possessive way, in a mutual way, the same as I would be hers. She would be my everything, my daughter, my companion, my lover, and in virtually all ways, my wife. I know it sounds sordid and debauched, but what is nearly impossible to explain is the most easily criticized. No amount of condemnation, though, could vilify our love. It was above that in all respects.

A serious look came over her. Her breathing became faster, nervous. Finally, she said, �I love you, Scott.�

I was stunned. Never before had she used the first person to make a statement. It took me a moment to realize she was waiting anxiously for a response.

I should take a second to state that, much to my embarrassment, I am a man who is easily brought to tears. A beautiful painting, a majestic symphony, a well-written book, even a superbly crafted movie can make my eyes water. I like to think it makes me a better writer that I can appreciate the emotion behind the art. So a sentimental statement like this from one so dear would be no exception.

This time, however, the tears that streaked either side of my face brought no shame.

�Oh, sweetheart,� I told her, �I love you so much.�

Nora joined me in tearfulness, tears of joy this time. She threw herself against me with such force I was thrown backward against the couch. She began to flood my face with kisses which I returned in kind.

I could not keep my hands off her. They explored every part. It was as if I had never touched her before. She relished the attention, quickly moving to assist my bid to suck her tiny nipples, run my fingers between her butt cheeks, or finger her pussy, already wet with anticipation.

My dick had become so hard it strained against the cloth of my boxers.

Nora discovered that fact and wrapped her hand around the shaft through the material. She stroked it that way. A wicked, sadistic grin lit up her face. She knew it was uncomfortable while at the same time wickedly erotic. Eventually she extracted it through the fly. She used the tips of her fingers to slowly tease the head, making it sensitive.

Torturing me seemed to entertain her immensely.

There must be masochistic tendencies in me, because I loved it. It was all I could do to keep from making her cease, but I didn�t want her to. This sensitivity was a high more powerful than any drug I ever experimented with in youth. At one point I believe I actually whimpered which intensified her grin.

When I thought she had satisfied her desire to drive me insane she slid to the floor on her knees, between mine. Her head dipped down engulfing the tortured end. Her lips replaced fingertips, but with the same, if not greater effect.

I moaned as she gently ran her tongue over it.

Then she slipped down the shaft, quickly returning to just the tip. The momentary reprieve was only enough to make me think my abuse was over. Wrong. She rotated her head with her lips clutching the head. I didn�t know how much of this I could take before going totally bat-shit crazy. But I was willing to find out.

I wanted her so bad at that instant. She must have read my thoughts because she rose and climbed onto my lap with her back to me. She settled on my pulsing shaft letting it slide into her slowly.

As she rose and fell on my member I fingered her clit. We were both worked into a frenzy in no time. But, we weren�t done. Nora slid from my cock and turned to take my hand.

I felt I had to make the declaration even though I was sure of what the answer would be. �Listen, hon,� I told her in all honesty, �now that it is certain you are going to be my daughter, if you��

There was no chance to finish my statement. A finger pressed against my lips as it had so often before. This time aloud Nora said, �Shut up, Scott.�

Perhaps a vocal Nora was going to be more than I anticipated. My eyes grew wide with shock before we both fell apart in laughter.

Then, with Scott the Bear in one hand and my hand clutched firmly in her other, she dragged me toward the bedroom, toward our future, toward the rest of our lives together.

THE END