Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: My Worst Nightmare
Author: Shushali
Summary: After a man is asked to baby-sit, he finds himself in an
impossible situation when losing his tempter forces him to answer a young
girl's inappropriate question.
Keywords: gM, coer, oral, slow, ped



   As a single guy, I - thankfully - am not normally asked to baby-sit
anyone's kids.  Although I was married for 6 years when I was in my 20's,
we never had kids since I never felt 'right' about it.  After going through
a devastating divorce when I was a young teen, I promised myself I would
never have kids unless I was certain that the relationship would last.  I
just couldn't do to my kids what my parents had done to me.  In my case, I
was right about my marriage, it broke down over time, and it wasn't because
she wanted kids or anything like that.  I have dated since then, but have
never clicked with anyone.  However, that's a story for another time.

   Now in my late 30's, imagine my dismay when I get a phone call from my
stepmother's daughter, Miranda, who wanted me to watch her kids.  Not only
did I not know her very well, I wasn't really 'family' to her since I was
only her step-brother.  Furthermore, who the heck asks an unmarried man to
watch their kids?  It must be an ethnic thing, since I was caucasian, and
my step-family was Spanish.

   "I hate to ask, but your dad and Eliza are going to the same wedding,"
Miranda said.

   It was my stepmother's nephew who was getting married, which meant he
was also a cousin to my stepmother's daughter.  So they were all going to
be there, along with other family members.  "What about Fernando?" I asked.
Fernando was Miranda's sixteen-year-old son, and it would make sense that
he could watch his siblings.

   "Fernando is going with us, but we can't take the kids since we'll be
out late." Miranda was referring to her eleven-year-old daughter Carolina,
and their eight-year-old son Carlos.  I had seen them a few times at family
gatherings, but I just knew them to see them, I didn't really 'know' them
at all.

   Before giving me a chance to reply, she added, "I wouldn't ask, but I
really don't know the neighbours very well since we just moved a month ago.
Your dad said that he didn't think you'd mind." I shook my head when I
heard this, since this was typical of my father.  He had a bad habit of
'volunteering' my services.

   I really hate it when people put me on the spot like this, since I'm
either forced to lie and make up a story about why I can't do it, or I'm
stuck doing something I really didn't want to do.  Seeing as my refusal
would likely annoy my dad, I decided to sacrifice my Saturday night and
baby-sit.  "I guess I can do it.  Although I don't know if I'll be any
good, I never had kids."

   "Don't worry, you won't have to do anything special.  I'll make dinner
and leave it in the fridge and all you have to do is warm it up.  Carlos
goes to bed at eight and Carolina at ten.  We'll be home after midnight.  I
really appreciate this Leslie!" I cringed when she called me Leslie.  While
it was my name, I preferred people to call me 'Les', since Leslie sounded
so much like a girl's name.  It was my grandfather's name, which explains
my parent's choice.  How the heck society turned it unto a girl's name I'll
never know.  As a result, many people in the family called me Leslie, since
that was how my dad addressed me.  However, I wasn't about to tell my dad
not to use the name of his father because it embarrassed me.

   "When did you want me there Miranda?"

   "How about one o'clock, so I can have the kids fed for lunch."

   "OK, I'll see you Saturday."

   "Thanks again Leslie, bye."

   "OK, bye." I hung up the phone, again bristling at her calling me
Leslie. For sake of not letting myself get annoyed, I put that out of my
head and went back to watching the DVD that I had paused before answering
the phone.

   - - - - -

   Saturday was here, and I pulled into the empty spot in the driveway
beside their car.  After ringing the doorbell, Miranda's husband Joseph
answered the door.  "Les!  Thank you for coming.  We really appreciate it."
he said as I shook his hand with a firm grip and smiled.  I was genuinely
smiling since at least he remembered when we first met that I introduced
myself as 'Les' and not 'Leslie'.  I entered the house as he motioned for
me to come in.

   As I took off my shoes I said, "No problem Joseph.  I haven't babysat
anyone since I was in my teens, so I hope the kids don't expect too much of
me."

   "No, just let them play, feed them dinner and put them to bed.  My cell
number is on the counter if you have any trouble."

   "Fair enough.  Where are they now?" I asked, not seeing the kids around.

   "Carlos is playing Nintendo, and Carolina is next door playing with a
friend," he said as he gestured to the house on the right.  "We told her to
be back before dinner."

   "Leslie?" Miranda called out from the kitchen.  "Can you come here a
minute?"

   "Yeah," I said loudly in reply.  Joseph nodded to me and went to the
closet to get his coat.

   Walking in my stocking feet on the smooth hardwood floors, I made my way
to the kitchen.  I saw Miranda putting aluminium foil on a small casserole
dish.

   Miranda turned to me and said, "Dinner is here, just dish it out and pop
it in the microwave.  It's all cooked."

   "Sounds easy enough," I said neutrally in response.

   "I'm sorry we had to bother you like this, I hope it's not too much
trouble," she said, clearly feeling a bit guilty for having asked me to
come.

   "Don't worry Miranda, it's no big deal, I promise." I tried to alleviate
any guilt she may have had.  While I may not have wanted to be there, I
certainly didn't want her to know it.  I hoped that my smile would assure
her it was no trouble.

   After closing the refrigerator door, Miranda reached over and gave me a
quick hug before heading to the bottom of the stairs.  In a loud voice she
shouted something in Spanish.

   Since I don't speak Spanish I only recognised when she said Fernando's
name.  I heard the sound of heavy feet bounding around upstairs, and in
seconds Fernando was coming down the stairs.

   Fernando blandly said "hi" as he passed by, in a typical teenage way
when they meet some adult they really don't know.  With a final goodbye,
they all hustled out the door and were on their way.

   I walked over to the living room and saw Carlos on his stomach playing
Nintendo.  "Hi Carlos, having fun?" I asked, honestly not caring whether he
was having fun or not, but just trying to make conversation.

   "Yeah," he said without turning to look at me.  He was swinging his bare
feet in the air as he played some kind of side scrolling game on the
television.

   I could never understand how some families could go barefooted at home.
His parents were the same way.  Wouldn't their feet get cold?  I don't
think I could ever get used to that.  As I wasn't really needed for
anything, I pulled out my e-reader and sat down to relax.  While the game
was noisy, it wasn't loud enough to distract me from my book.  I was
re-reading the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy series by Douglas Adams. 
Although I owned, and had read, the series long ago, I had only recently
picked it up in eBook format.  I was looking forward to a good read.

   The phone rang at one point during the afternoon, and since they never
said I shouldn't answer it, I figured I would just in case.  I wasn't sure
if they had my cell phone number, so I didn't want to take the chance.  It
ended up just being a pollster doing a poll on 'who I would vote for in the
next election'.  Since I was bored, I did their poll and burned off 5
minutes before I got back to my book.

   Carolina came back home around four o'clock.  As she walked by, she
waved while saying "Hi..." and then went up to her room.  I smiled and
nodded as she went by, but otherwise I didn't pay much attention to her
since I wanted to get back to my book.

   - - - - -

   It was five-thirty when I called the kids to wash up and come to the
kitchen for dinner.  Carlos had gone upstairs to play not long after
Carolina came home, and so I heard them both 'thump' around before I heard
their feet rumble down the stairs.

   "I hope this isn't too early for dinner, when do you guys normally eat?"

   "Around now," Carlos said quickly.

   Carolina grabbed some plates from the cupboard as I dug out the
casserole dish.

   "Thanks Carolina." I said, thankful that she was helping since I didn't
know where they kept their dishes.  I hunted around in a few drawers before
I found the one with the large serving spoons.  Digging in to what looked
something like home-made hamburger helper, I spooned some helpings onto our
plates and then put the first one into the microwave.  The smell of warming
food quickly permeated the kitchen.

   Once the first dish came out, I got Carlos eating and then served
Carolina, before serving myself last.  We all ate silently for the most
part, although I tried to make some small talk with the kids.  You know how
it is, every answer seems to be "Fine" or "Nothing" or "I don't know". 
Only when I started talking about the internet did the kids start to perk
up and get chatty.  That led to talk about some of the books and movies
they like, and soon dinner was done and I was cleaning up the table and
loading the dishwasher.

   "What's for dessert?" Carlos asked.

   This was a bit of a surprise.  Miranda hadn't mentioned anything about
dessert.  "Ummm..." I pulled open the freezer and spotted a box of ice
cream.  Letting out a sigh of relief I looked back and asked, "Ice cream?"

   Their faces broke into smiles as they nodded eagerly.

   With the decision made, I started opening cupboards to find where they
kept the small bowls.  I called out with my back to them, "Chocolate,
vanilla or strawberry?"

   "Chocolate!" shouted Carlos.

   "Strawberry," Carolina called out after him.

   After dishing out dessert, we all retired to the living room and they
ate while I watched the six o'clock news.  Following that, I handed over
the remote and they watched a couple hours of kids' shows, as I returned my
focus to my e-reader.  Soon it was eight o'clock and I sent Carlos off to
bed, reminding him to brush his teeth.  After making sure he was safely in
bed, I returned to the living room and my e-reader as Carolina lay on the
couch watching television.

   I was beginning to think that this night wasn't going to be too much of
a bother, when Carolina started talking to me after her show ended at nine
o'clock.

   "Ummm, Leslie?" Carolina asked with hesitation.

   Despite her using my proper name, I wasn't irked at her for using it. 
I'm not a fan of people who have their kids call family friends 'Uncle
so-an-so' even though they are not their uncle at all.  At best I was her
step-uncle, and who ever uses that term?  Calling me by my first name was
reasonable given her mother did the same thing.

   "Yes?" I asked without looking up from my book, thinking her request
would be trivial.

   "Do you have any kids?"

   My eyebrows rose as I paused for a moment and stopped reading, before I
looked up at her and cautiously said, "No."

   "How come?" she added quickly.

   "I just don't have any, that's all.  Why do you ask?" I replied, curious
where this line of questioning was going.

   "No reason," Carolina said as her eyes darted away from me and back
towards the television.

   I had just looked back down at my e-reader when she questioned me again.

   "Are you married?"

   I was beginning to get a bit irked at Carolina, since I really didn't
think this was any of her business.  "No.  I was married for a while, but
I'm not anymore.  Why all the questions?" I asked in a nice - but direct -
way, trying to find out what she was getting at.

   "Because...  Well...  could I ask you a question about my parents?  You
were married right?" she asked as she fiddled with her hands in her lap.

   I was a bit taken aback by this, since I really wasn't the person she
should be talking to about this.  Aside from not having kids of my own,
common sense dictated that it was none of my business.  With that in mind I
replied, "Yes, but don't you think it would be better to ask them
yourself?"

   She paused, and still looking into her lap she bit her lip and
announced, "I'm afraid to.  Can't I ask you?"

   It was at this point that my gut was telling me to bail.  Carolina was a
nice enough kid, but I couldn't help but think I should keep my nose out of
whatever problem she had between herself and her parents.  Even though I
had no clue what it might be, it didn't matter.  It wasn't any of my
business.  My gut was right, but sadly, I didn't pay attention to it.  If
only to get her to stop asking personal questions of me, I decided to let
her ask the question about her parents.  How bad could it be?  I let out a
sigh.  "OK, what is it you wanted to ask?"

   In a quiet voice, and without raising her head, she said, "Ummm, what
does it mean when my dad puts his head between my mom's legs?"

   This is why guys should never be asked to babysit kids, especially when
a girl is involved.

   "Excuse me?!?" I barked as I nearly dropped my e-reader on the floor. 
Had I been drinking, I most certainly would have spit my drink out in
shock. What's worse - even though I had heard her - she didn't understand
that my response was that of shock and not that I didn't hear her.

   Turning to face me she began again, "What does it mean when...?"

   I cut her off to respond, "No, no, I heard you...  I'm sorry, but I
can't answer that." What would posses her to even ask me such a question?
Especially when she didn't even know me very well.  My pulse was starting
to quicken, since I felt that I was clearly out of my element here.  I had
no idea how parents talked to their kids about sex nowadays, and this was
totally none of my business.

   "Why not?" she asked, clearly nonplussed at my response.

   "Because it's something you need to talk to your parents about."

   "But why?  Is it because it's a 'sex thing'?"

   With exaggerated nodding I replied, "Yes, it most certainly is a 'sex
thing', and you should be talking to your parents about it.  Don't they
teach you sex-ed in school?" I added, trying to deflect away from the
question at hand.

   "Yeah, but no one ever taught us about this.  What does it mean?" She
was becoming more adamant about her request, and her manner reflected it.

   I was a bit put off by her refusal to accept my answers.  While I had
been polite, my patience was beginning to wear thin, and my tone reflected
that as I curtly responded, "Carolina, I said I can't answer that."

   She started to whine, "Please...!"

   If there is one thing I can't stand, it's whiny kids.  Honestly, it's
like fingernails on a chalkboard to me.  Therefore, it's no surprise that I
snapped and made a HUGE mistake.  Raising my voice I angrily shouted, "I
said no!"

   As soon as I yelled at her, she started to cry and run out of the room.
"You're mean!  I'm telling my mom!" she announced as she raced towards the
stairs.

   Here is where I panicked.  Keep in mind that my thought process only
lasted a split second, but what went through my head was that she was going
to tell her parents I was 'mean' to her, which would get me in trouble with
them - and more importantly with my dad and Eliza - since it would have
meant I was 'mean' to their grand-daughter.  Yes I know I could counter
with her question being inappropriate, which was quite true, but I still
shouldn't have lost my temper and yelled at her.  There was no excuse for
that.  What kind of guy yells at a young girl and makes her cry?

   I was screwed.  Totally and completely screwed.

   "Carolina wait...!  Please." I got up and tried to intercept her before
she got to the stairs, but my feet were sliding all over the hardwood
floor. I guess going barefoot at home did have advantages after all.

   "NO, leave me alone!" she cried, clearly upset at me as she neared the
base of the staircase.

   I was running out of time, so out of panic I gave in and begged her,
"Please stop!  I'll tell you what it means!"

   She coasted to a stop at the base of the stairs and immediately stopped
crying.  Turning to face me, I could see her tear stained cheeks as the
overhead light reflected off her face.  While clearly upset, she seemed
willing to hear me out.  "Well?" she asked with pursed lips, as she began
to wipe away her tears with the back of her hand.

   "Let's go back to the living room and sit down, OK?" She wordlessly
nodded and slowly padded her bare feet back to the living room.  With
Carolina sitting back in the same seat as before, I went to the fridge to
get a bottle of water.  I was parched and breaking into a sweat.  While
tempted to grab a beer, I decided against it.  The situation was far too
unstable for me to take a chance.

   Returning to the living room, I sat down and started to speak calmly to
her.  I started with an apology.  "Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you.  It was
wrong, I shouldn't have done it and I'm really sorry, OK?"

   "OK." she said with a sniffle and a nod, seemingly accepting my apology.


   While I was going to acquiesce to her demand, I only did so since I felt
I had no other choice.  "Alright.  You have to promise that you won't tell
anyone that I talked to you about this stuff.  It could get me in a lot of
trouble.  OK?"

   "OK." she replied quickly, becoming less weepy with each passing
response.

   I decided that it would be best to have her repeat what happened, so I
could keep everything in context.  The last thing I needed was to get
things wrong and make matters worse.  "So about your question...  Why don't
you tell me what you saw?"

   After looking at me for a moment to decide how she wanted say it, she
looked down at her hands when she replied, "I saw my dad with his head
between my mothers legs, and she was moaning.  Was he hurting her?" After
asking her question, she looked at me again, and waited eagerly for my
response.

   I relaxed a bit when I heard the last part of her question, since she
was probably just concerned for her mother.  "Were they in their bedroom?"
I asked, wondering how she would have seen this.

   "Yeah."

   With this seeming to be a simple matter of a child accidentally seeing
their parents being intimate, I answered in a calm and reassuring tone,
"No, he wasn't hurting her.  That's a 'sex thing' they call 'oral sex'. 
Your dad was kissing your mothers privates."

   She crinkled her freckled nose before replying, "Really?  Why?"

   "Because it makes your mother feel good, and your dad loves your mom so
he wants to make her feel good."

   "But that's where the pee comes out." she added, seemingly put off by my
description.  However, given that she hadn't hit puberty yet, she didn't
understand that there was more to sex than making babies.

   I let out a quiet sigh, since I really didn't want to get into a lecture
about this.  "Yeah, but don't you wipe yourself after going to the
washroom?"

   "Yeah."

   "And don't you shower?"

   "Yeah."

   "Well so does your mother." Two for two I thought to myself, thinking I
had dodged another bullet.  However, she continued to pepper me with
questions.

   "What does it feel like?" she asked, clearly unaware of how intricate a
question she was asking.

   Pausing, I wondered how to approach this.  This was getting a bit
further out of my comfort zone, and I really wanted it all to end.  So I
replied with what I thought was an obvious answer.  "Honestly, I don't
know, I'm not a woman.  All I know is that guys do it to women all the
time, since most women say it feels really good."

   "Have you done it to a woman?" Carolina asked, again not understanding
the intimacy of the question she was asking.

   Although I didn't want to answer, I knew she wouldn't take 'no' for an
answer.  "Yes, I have."

   "Did it hurt her?"

   "Of course not." I paused and tried to think of a way to put this into
context.  "Tell me, have you ever been tickled?"

   Carolina let out a snicker at the thought of my question.  "Yeah."

   "Well, when someone tickles you, don't you want them to stop?"

   "Yeah."

   "But it's not because they're hurting you, right?"

   "No, but it's just--"

   "--It feels weird, right?  So you try to stop it."

   "Yeah."

   "And you make weird sounds, right?"

   "Yeah."

   "Well, the same thing happens with this.  Your mother was moaning since
it feels really good--not because it was hurting her."

   Carolina had put a finger to her lips in thought, as she soaked this all
in.

   "So, was there anything else?" I asked, exhaling deeply in the belief
that I had talked my way out of this mess.

   "Yeah, can you show me?" she replied in a manner totally oblivious to
inappropriateness of her query.

   Unbelievably though, at this particular point in the conversation, it
hadn't actually clicked with me what she was asking me to do.  I kid you
not.

   "Show you what?" I asked, my mind not comprehending that she could be
asking what it sounded like she was asking.  Clearly she was referring to
something else that I didn't quite pick up on.

   "That thing my dad did to my mom...  You said it feels really good.  Can
you show me?"

   My eyes widened as my brain's delayed reaction kicked in.  With a
horrified look on my face I said, "What?!" in a loud voice, before
remembering my first loud voice screw-up only minutes before.  Quickly
lowering my voice to a calm level, I began again, "Ah...  I mean..." I
exhaled deeply before adding in my best adult speaking manner, "Carolina,
you know it's not appropriate for me to do that, right?"

   "Why?" she asked with ambivalence.

   "Haven't they told you in school that you're not supposed to do 'sex
things' with adults?"

   "Yeah..."

   "Well this is a 'sex thing'," I held out my left hand.  "and I'm an
adult." I held out my right hand.  I paused hoping that she would put two
and two together.

   "But I wanna try it.  You said it feels really good." she replied, in a
manner not unlike how a child would say that ice cream tastes 'really
good'. She seemed to have a logical disconnect between what she was asking
and what it actually meant.  It just wasn't 'clicking' with her.  Since I
only gave her a simple explanation, she didn't understand the act of
cunnilingus, and she had no clue what she was actually asking me to do.

   I was running out of runway here, and I was totally out of my element.
Why couldn't she have asked her parents?  Why ask me?

   At this point, I paused and started to consider just how badly I had
botched my earlier response.  Why did I have to open my big mouth?  I
couldt have left well enough alone and just said that I don't know what it
feels like.  Instead, I had to open my big fucking mouth and say more than
I needed to say.  What an idiot I was.  Dragging my focus back to the
matter at hand, I tried to recover.  "Carolina, I can't do it.  I could get
in big trouble for even talking to you about it."

   Her face was starting to sour.  I was looking at the face of a child who
was used to getting what she wanted.  "You're mean!" she pouted.

   This was going downhill fast.

   "Look I'm sorry, I just can't do it." I repeated, hoping that she would
respect that you can't always get what you want.

   She got up in a huff, saying, "I'm still telling my mom you were mean to
me." and then she started to walk away.

   I sat in stunned silence.

   She wasn't running this time, and I was sitting wondering just how
screwed I was.  Again, my mind reviewed what had happened in a matter of
seconds.  I had talked to her about oral sex, and she could easily mention
enough things to prove it.  I was dead.  I angrily yelled at a young girl,
made her cry, and talked to her about sex.  I was totally and thoroughly
screwed.  Regardless, I wasn't about to give up yet.  "Carolina, please...
wait." I called out to her from my place on the couch, since she hadn't
walked out of the room yet.

   She stopped in her tracks, arms crossed in front of her, with her back
turned to me.  It almost seemed like she had anticipated that I would try
to stop her again.  Without turning around, she stood waiting to hear what
I had to say.

   I pleaded with her, "You're only eleven.  You're too young to be doing
this."

   She spun to face me, and dropping her arms to her sides with her hands
balled into fists, defiantly stated, "I'm almost eleven and a half!"

   I was really tempted to roll my eyes here, but I valiantly resisted that
temptation since I was in enough trouble already.  So I continued my
pleadings, "That's great, but you're still too young.  Please, don't make
me do this.  You can't imagine how much trouble I would be in if anyone
ever found out.  They would throw me in jail.  Is that what you want?  To
put me in jail?" I decided to turn the tables and try to guilt her into
letting me off the hook.  Sadly, it didn't work.

   "I won't tell, I promise.  Just lemme try it once." she again begged,
her response clearly indicating that she didn't grasp the enormity of the
situation.

   However, in hindsight, I guess this makes sense.  She was only eleven.
Not only did she not understand the mechanics of oral sex, she had no
concept of how society looked upon adults who sexually interacted with
children in today's world.  While they certainly teach kids to tell when an
adult touches them sexually, I doubt they talk about what happens to the
adult after they tell.  They don't want the kid to think about that, they
only want them to tell someone.  She had no clue how devastating this could
be to an adult.

   Now before anyone starts thinking that this is a pedophiles 'wet dream',
I have two things to say.  First, I'm not a pedophile.  I had never lusted
after, or had any sexual thoughts about anyone younger than
girls--adults--in their late teens.  Even then it was from watching porn,
not leering at teen girls in public.  Secondly, far from being a 'wet
dream' this was a 'worst nightmare'.

   Let's recap shall we?

   To be crudely blunt, an eleven year-old girl was asking me to eat her
out.  If anyone was to hear that I actually did that, I would be turned in
to the police, arrested, jailed, convicted, I would lose my job, be
disowned by my family & friends and generally my life as I knew it would
come to an end.  Once out of jail I would probably end up on welfare living
in some cockroach infested bachelor apartment, with my name on a sexual
offenders registry.  All of this for the 'crime' of giving a girl an orgasm
with my mouth.

   I would die alone, shunned by society.  You call that a 'wet dream'?! 
I'm sorry dear reader; I'm going to have to disagree with you there.  If
that's not a 'worst nightmare', then I don't know what is.

   On the flipside, if I rejected her request, I am faced with my family
thinking I'm an asshole and a pervert.  I had yelled at her, and talked to
her about oral sex - which was a mistake that I couldn't take back now.  My
family and relatives would see me as a pariah.  While they would still
acknowledge that I was right to reject her request, the problem is that I
let it get too far.  They won't see that I rejected her request as 'good'
since it should have - rightfully - been expected that I would do that
anyway.  It might be years, or decades, before my family would speak to me
again.  So there are no positives, only negatives.

   I'm left with the "fool's choice", which is to give in to her demands.
It seems like the easy way out, since there is the chance that I may get
out of this alive.  If I don't give in, then I am screwed with my family
for sure.  No other option there.  If I do give in, then there is a chance
- to what degree I don't know - that if she remains silent about it I will
escape this nightmare with only some. . .  nightmares.

   So, in short, the choice is to take the certain devastating fallout with
my family, or to roll the dice and risk either getting off scott free or
going to jail and ending my life as I know it.  The stakes were really
high, and a choice had to be made.  Do I go 'all in', or do I 'fold'.

   Since I had turned my body to face her as she was walking away, I was
leaning over the left armrest of the couch looking at her with a desperate
and pleading look on my face.

   Standing with her hands on her hips, Carolina seemed to know that she
had the upper hand here.  My desperation made it clear that she 'had me',
and despite her young age, she was smart enough to know it.

   She wasn't backing down, and the stark realization of that finally hit
me.  It was here that I decided that I would go 'all in'.  I would take the
risk and hope that the cards would be kind to me this night.

   Feeling defeated, I dropped my arms to the armrest of the couch and then
dropped my head facedown on top.  There was a pregnant pause as we both
waited to see what would happen next.  For my part, I felt completely
helpless.  You can't imagine how gut-wrenchingly awful it is to be in a
situation you can't control that could ruin your life.  It's like watching
a car accident in slow motion.  You can see the impact before it happens,
and you cringe knowing what's going to happen next.

   What's worse, if this could get any worse, is that at this point I don't
even think that she really remembered why she wanted to do this in the
first place.

   If you're a single child you may not understand this, but anyone who has
grown up with a brother or sister will know that as a child, you always
want what you don't have or can't have.  When I was young, if I saw my
brother playing with a toy, I wanted it.  Even though I may not have
actually wanted to play with that toy, the fact that my brother was having
fun with it made me want it.

   For her sake, I think she had gone past wanting this because I said it
felt good, and she just wanted it because I said she couldn't have it.  She
seemed more focused on overcoming my objections than anything else.  In
short, she was a spoiled child who always got what she wanted.

   Carolina was beginning to understand how this was affecting me
emotionally, and without me hearing her, she walked quietly towards me. 
Once beside me she ever so lightly touched my arm to get my attention.  Out
of surprise, I flinched and raised my head to look at her with a deeply
pained look on my face.

   "Please?" she said in a softer voice while looking down at me and
lightly tracing her finger up my arm.

   I was beaten, and I think she knew it.  Looking up at her with sad and
empty eyes, I finally gave in.  "You have to promise you will never tell a
soul.  If you tell anyone, even by accidental, they'll send me to jail."
Looking down at the floor, I paused as a wave of emotion washed over me. 
"I don't want to go to jail." I added quietly, with sadness leaking into my
voice and my eyes ever so lightly clouding with water.  I didn't want my
life to end this way.

   "I promise I'll never tell." she repeated again quietly.  She was
beginning to understand how worried I was, and her demeanour had changed
from that of defiance to compassion.  Yet despite this, she was still
unwilling to give in.

   After another brief pause, and knowing I had no other options, I quietly
said "Ok." and brought my right hand up to rub my forehead.  I was starting
to get a headache and my temples were throbbing.

   "So what do we do?" she asked, displaying her utter ignorance of what
she fought so hard to attain.

   Since I was lost in empty thought wondering how long it would be before
I was arrested, I didn't consciously hear her question.

   "Leslie?" she called me by name to get my attention.

   "Yeah?" I replied without looking at her, since I didn't want her to see
that my eyes were still a bit watery.  Despite everything that had
happened, I was still a man and I still had my pride.  I wasn't about to
let a young girl see that I had been on the verge of tears.

   "What do we do now?" she asked again.

   I pondered her question.  As much as one might think this would be easy
to do, it really wasn't.  It's hard to do something when every instinct in
your body is telling you that it's wrong.  I took a moment to take a closer
look at the young girl I was about to be intimate with.  Since I was
already looking downward, my gaze fell to her feet, where I noticed a faint
tan line at the point where the strap from a pair of flip-flops would
cover.

   As I began to raise my head, I found myself looking at an average girl.
She was wearing purple shorts and a t-shirt that had the word 'LOVE'
printed many times on it in varying shapes, fonts and colours.  Although
the shirt wasn't tight on her, it still didn't quite cover her
belly-button. She looked to be about four foot five and seventy-five
pounds, give or take.  Although she had a little bit of a belly, it
certainly wasn't enough to consider her overweight.

   Once I reached her face, I found myself looking into a pair of hazel
eyes that stared deeply back at me.b Her light brown hair fell to the
middle of her back, with waves that you might see after un-braiding the
hair.  She looked very much like a typical girl of her age, which made this
all that much harder.

   "Go get changed for bed, and put on a nightgown..." I said meekly,
before adding, Take off your underwear and leave them in your room."

   "OK." she replied and walked briskly to the stairs.

   I buried my face in my hands, since I was regretting this already, but
there was no getting out of it now.  I pondered my options.

   The living room was at the back of the house, so I wasn't worried about
being seen through a window.  The drapes were already closed, and it was
dark outside anyway.  My thoughts were that we could do this on the couch,
and if by some chance her parents came home early, she could just pull down
her nightgown and no one would be the wiser.  It was just a bit past nine
o'clock, so it wasn't quite time for her to go to bed.  I figured the
wedding reception would still be in full swing, so I just resigned myself
to the inevitable.

   I heard a noise upstairs, and then I heard Carolina as she quietly
padded down the stairs.  She was wearing a loose-fitting baby blue
nightgown with frills on the hem, which fell just below her knees.  Just
looking at her made me all that more reluctant.

   "What do we do now?" she asked as she came to a stop in front of me,
rubbing one bare foot on top of the other.

   "Let's move to the bigger couch." I was on the two-seater, and so I
figured it would be easier on the three-seater.  I left the television on,
but put it on mute so I could hear if anyone came in.

   Taking a seat at the far end of the couch, she placed her hands in her
lap and stared at me with a tilted head, wondering what I would do next.

   "You're sure you want to do this?" I asked, giving her one last chance
to back out.

   "Yeah.  As long as it doesn't hurt." she added with hindsight.

   "OK.  If you hear the front door open, or you hear your little brother,
you stand up and pull down your nightgown so no one can see you aren't
wearing underwear."

   "OK." she replied quickly.

   "And if anything bothers you, you make sure to tell me right away and
I'll stop."

   "OK." she replied quickly again.

   Standing up I went and turned off the main overhead light, leaving only
a small table lamp and the television to illuminate the room.  Walking to
the couch, I slowly knelt down by her feet and then took hold of her legs,
carefully swinging them up onto the couch.  She flinched a bit when I
touched her, but didn't resist.

   With a feeling in my stomach that could only be described as 'gut
wrenching', I ever so gently put my hands on each of her knees and started
to push up the frilly hem of her nightgown.  Once it was just above her
knees, I manoeuvred myself onto the couch so I could lie down between her
legs.  Taking her left foot, which was against the back of the couch, I
carefully lifted it onto my shoulder as I moved my head under the hem of
her nightgown.  She was breathing much more deeply now, and no words were
spoken as I moved my head in closer.

   Looking down between her legs, I could see her seam, hairless and
innocent, staring back at me.  I shuddered as my mind spun in disbelief
that I was actually going to do this.  Closing my eyes and taking a deep
breath, I leaned in and slid my nose just slightly between the lips, gently
nudging her clit.  She flinched a bit and I heard her gasp, so I stopped.

   "Are you OK?" I asked with concern, wondering if this was too much for
her to handle.

   "Yeah it's just...  I'm OK." she replied in a bit of a disjointed
fashion, but clearly willing to continue.

   Taking another deep breath I moved in again and lightly drew my tongue
along the outside of her lips.  I then kissed gently a few times, as I felt
her breathing get even deeper.  Slowly and deliberately, I pleasured her in
the same way I would have pleasured a grown woman.  I did it that way since
I didn't know what else to do.  It's not as if I had ever done this with
anyone this young, not even when I was a kid.  Her right leg, which had
been partially trapped underneath me, was now being extracted as she swung
it onto my back to join her left leg.  She started moaning, and between
licks I asked, "Are you OK?"

   "Yeah..." she purred weakly in response, so I resumed my efforts.  After
a few minutes, I felt her hands casually cradle my head through her
nightgown, and her thighs started to twitch as I would occasionally flick
my tongue over her clit.  I was trying to take this really slow, and she
seemed to be handling it well.  I needed to get some air though, so I
pushed her nightgown off my head and onto her stomach.  She briefly removed
her hands to allow me to do it, and then replaced her hands on my head when
it was out of the way.  At the same time, she crossed her ankles on my
back, while splaying her thighs slightly more open.

   For my part, I was starting to relax a little bit, since I was petrified
that this might 'go bad quickly' and leave me explaining myself to the cops
when her parents got home.  Instead I was trying to just forget how old she
was, and immerse myself in the moment.  It's not as if I hated eating
pussy. I'd be a liar if I said I did.  It wasn't what I was doing that
bothered me; it was whom I was doing it with.

   It took a few more minutes, but I had finally become fully relaxed.  I
think it was the environment that was doing it to me.  The smell was so...
mind numbing.  The scent of her nightgown and clean body was so out of
place with what I would expect to smell if I was going down on a woman. 
It's so hard to explain.  Then there were her secretions.  While not
copious, I found myself quickly seeking out and consuming every single
drop. I was getting hooked on this, and it was quickly becoming
overpowering.  What was wrong with me?

   Finally, I just gave in.  The smells, the tastes, her moans, her legs
gently cradling my head and her tiny hands weaving through my hair.  I was
hers now, and I knew I would do anything to please her.  In a way, it was
scary for me, since I had never felt this way before.  Never in my life
have I ever submitted myself to someone.  It's a very overwhelming feeling
to give yourself over to anyone, let alone a young girl.  I felt
emotionally exposed and completely vulnerable.  For a guy who is used to
being the one 'in charge', this was an experience unlike anything I had
ever encountered before.

   It took about fifteen minutes for her to have her first orgasm.  It
surprised the heck out of me since I didn't know kids her age had orgasms.
It may sound naive of me, but I thought that didn't happen until they were
older.  However, there was no mistaking her reaction.  The moans, her
undulating hips, the grip on my head, the tension, and then the release as
she came back to earth.  I gave her nether region a few final kisses and
then lifted my head to look up at her.  She was positively glowing, and the
look of bliss on her face was one that I will never forget as long as I
live.

   "So how was it?" I asked, looking up for the first time since beginning
to please her.

   "Oh my god that was amazing." she blurted in a single ragged breath,
adding, "I never knew anything could feel so good." once she caught her
breath.

   "Now do you understand why your dad was doing it to your mom?"

   "Yeah." she replied with a smile, her hands still absent-mindedly
weaving though my hair.

   I started to lift up, and she allowed her ankles to unlock from behind
my back to free me.  As I sat up, I could see there was a small wet spot on
her nightgown underneath her bottom.  I made a mental note to make sure
that the spot wasn't visible on the couch when she got up.  Finding that I
was unconsciously looking 'between her legs', I bashfully turned my head
away and looked towards the television.  I was beginning to feel ashamed of
myself.  What kind of person would do something like this to a young girl?
I felt like a monster.

   "Leslie?" she called me by name in a quiet voice.

   Trying to hide my guilt-ridden face, I answered without turning to look
at her, "Yeah?"

   "Could you...  do that again?" she asked in what sounded like an odd mix
of hesitation and longing.

   Her question forced me to look at her, and the look in her eyes made it
impossible to say no.  It's not possible in words to describe her
expression.  Even now, I find myself struggling to explain the combination
of innocence and desire she radiated.  It was beyond words, and it totally
shut down my logical reasoning.  How could I refuse her?

   Let's be clear though, I wanted to say no.  I'm dead serious.  Despite
everything that had happened in those fifteen or so minutes, my gut was
still very much reminding me that I shouldn't have done this.  It was
screaming at me to just cut and run.  I even forced myself to look away
from her again so I could attempt to break the spell she seemed to have me
under.

   I should also mention that throughout the evening, never once did my
mind seek to achieve personal sexual release.  Despite the intensity, I
wasn't being controlled by my own 'sexual urges'.  It was never about me. I
never once thought about wanting to take this further and have intercourse,
or to have her touch me in any sexual way.  My zipper stayed up and I
wasn't even erect.  For me the intensity of this encounter was strictly an
emotional one.

   Since I hadn't rebuked her, she raised her left foot and gently rubbed
it along the side of my face before running her toes through my hair. 
"Please?" she quietly added in a delicate voice.

   I exhaled deeply, closed my eyes in concentration and struggled to
maintain my composure.  My hands were quivering slightly, so I laced my
fingers together in my lap.  Meanwhile she continued to lazily fondle my
head with her foot.  Although I tried to resist, my willpower was draining
away with each second her foot touched me.  Finally, I reconciled to myself
that there was no way I could refuse her.  I just didn't have the mental
strength.  In a way, it was a relief, since it was out of my hands now. 
"Let me get a towel first." I said as I stood up.

   "OK." she replied with a dreamy look on her face.

   Walking to the bathroom, I grabbed a hand towel from the linen closet,
returning to see that she hadn't moved on the couch.  I passed the towel to
her.  "Put that under your bum." Once she did, I proceeded to return to my
position prostrated before her.

   With roughly two feet separating me from her pleasure center, I stopped.
My gut was trying one last time to reassert control over me, and my mind
was adrift in a sea of emotions that I was unable to reconcile.  On the one
hand, I was emotionally driven to please her, on the other I was logically
trying to acknowledge the fact that she was only eleven years-old and it
was morally wrong to be doing this.  The mental struggle was making my head
spin.

   With a serious and pained expression on my face, I looked her deep in
the eyes and asked, "Should I be doing this to you?" In retrospect, it was
a bit of a silly question to ask of her, but I was so completely lost, I
just needed to know that I was doing the right thing.  While asking her was
probably not the best way to make a decision about this, I had no other
alternatives.

   She didn't answer me verbally; instead, she just smiled and nodded her
head as she brought her legs up onto my shoulders to pull me towards her.
When I was close enough, her hands joined her legs in directing me
downwards.  Once contact was made, I closed my eyes and again submitted
myself to her.  I mean that in the fullest sense of the word.  All that
mattered now was her pleasure.  It was as if we were in another world where
only the two of us existed.  We took our time, and took breaks on occasion
when we got tired.  However, I would soon feel her heel on the back on my
neck as she pulled me back in, and I was powerless to resist.  I didn't
even try.

   After a series of orgasms, she had finally had enough.  Gently pressing
her hand on my forehead, she pushed me back, breaking the connection
between us.

   I looked up at her and asked, "All done?"

   She just smiled and nodded as she closed her eyes and laid her head back
onto the armrest of the couch, with a look of complete contentment on her
face.

   Pulling the damp towel out from underneath her, I gave her vagina a
quick and gentle wipe before I tossed the towel on the floor.  Leaning
closer, I placed a tender kiss on her mons and then carefully pulled down
her nightgown.  Now standing, I reached out and lifted her up, cradling her
gently in my arms as I carried her up to her bedroom.  The stairs creaked
under the added weight of her body with mine as I carefully climbed the
staircase.  Once in her room, I laid her down on her bed and helped her get
under the covers.

   As I tucked her in, she quietly said my name one last time.  "Leslie?"

   "Yeah?" I replied in kind as I looked down into her eyes.

   Her arms opened wide, seeking a hug.  Bending down I gave her one, and
she kissed me ever so lightly on the cheek in a way that only a young girl
can.  "Thank you." she whispered in my ear before letting me go.

   I re-tucked her blankets and just smiled down to her, before quietly
exiting the room and leaving her to dream.

   Once downstairs I took the towel and stuffed it deep in the hamper,
hoping that it wouldn't be noticed.  Taking a can of air freshener from the
top of the toilet tank, I gave the room a short spray just to be on the
safe side.  After returning the air freshener to the bathroom, I washed my
face and used some mouthwash.  With no evidence left behind, I returned to
the two-seater couch and sat down, grabbing the remote.  As I changed the
channel to a network station, I was floored to see the eleven o'clock news
had just started.  Were we doing it that long?

   I gave my head a shake and tried to refocus.  My head was in the clouds,
but I still had that churning in my gut.  It was all up to her now.  My
life was literally in her hands.  If she didn't keep the secret, my life
was over.

   It wasn't until just after one o'clock in the morning when Joseph,
Miranda and Fernando arrived back.  I kept my good-bye short and sweet,
since we were all tired and I just wanted to go home.

   The next day I was dreading the 'phone call' that told me they had found
out what I had done, but it never came.  Over the next few weeks, I began
to feel more at ease about the secret being safe, even though I know I made
a huge mistake.

   * * * * *

   I didn't see Carolina until about six months later, at an anniversary
party for my dad and Eliza.  When I spotted her, my gut started to do
somersaults.  Would she hate me?  Would she resent me for what I did to
her?

   Then our eyes met.

   It's hard to describe a look, when it can convey so much in such a
simple way.  When she smiled at me that day, her look told me that
everything was fine, and that she was OK with what happened.  I can't
explain it, but that one look totally disarmed me, and took away any fears
I had about being caught for what I did.  Despite feeling like a child
molester, it was clear she didn't see me that way.  It felt like a huge
weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

   We didn't talk that day, since there was so much going on and so many
people around.  All I know is that she looked like a changed girl.  She
seemed so much more sure of herself than she did when I met her.  It's
really hard to describe.

   In the end I'll never forget our special time together.

   The end ====

   Author page: /~Shushali/

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