Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: A Cabin with a View Ch.  01


Summary: Former step-daughter claims her prize, and more.


Keywords: inc,fic



   Part I

   This is the story of a marriage which was supposed to be a dream come
true, but it turned out to be a nightmare.  The only good that came from
this "dream" marriage to Gretchen was my relationship with her daughter,
Miss Sarah.

   Gretchen and I dated many years ago here in Georgia and then we broke
up. Oh, how I wish it had remained that way.  How very much better off I
would be, but that is not what happened, and I have only myself to blame.
When someone dies, we tend to forget their flaws and frailties and too
often the dearly departed is soon canonized under the authority of their
survivors' faulty memories.  So, too, do we remember our failed
relationships.  We usually forget the good and remember only the bad,
helping ourselves to detach and not mourn the loss of love.  But sometimes,
particularly for melancholics, we forget the bad and remember only the
good, and we are haunted by the memory of love lost, dogged by the
unanswered question of what might have been.

   No, many years later, I went looking for the girl from my past who had
haunted me, the girl who I could not get out of my thoughts, the girl
against whom every other girl in my life had been measured.  I found her in
Ohio, in the midst of a divorce and raising her daughter.

   When Gretchen and I had dated many years earlier, she had been a cute,
sweet, slender, petite young girl who also happened to have big breasts. 
She was the kind of girl that would make a father proud if his son was
dating her.  That, however, was almost 30 years ago and time,
unfortunately, had not been kind to Gretchen.  Cute had become slightly
wrinkled, petite had become a little dumpy, and big-breasted had become
saggy-titted.

   Perhaps I'm being a bit tough on her.  Actually, she wasn't unattractive
for her age and I really didn't expect that, at age 48, she would look like
she had at age 24.  However, Gretchen was no longer a beauty queen and she
definitely had no potential to be called a "trophy wife." She was the kind
of woman who would prompt guys to say, 'well, I wouldn't kick her out of
bed,' but, of course, there are not too many guys who will kick any woman
out of bed when they need to get laid, so this isn't exactly glowing praise
for Gretchen.

   To everyone else, Gretchen's daughter was Sarah.  When it became obvious
that Gretchen would move back to Georgia to live with me, I jokingly told
her daughter that I would address her as I would any Southern young lady
and I hoped that she would aspire to adopt some Southern mannerisms and
gentility.  With that explanation, I began to call her Miss Sarah and, from
that day forward, I always called her Miss Sarah.

   When I first met Miss Sarah, she was 18 years old but only a junior in
high school.  Thanks to her mother's lack of caring about education, Miss
Sarah had failed a grade in elementary school and they had never pursued
any opportunity for Miss Sarah to try to catch up with the other children
her own age.  This was quite shameful, because Miss Sarah was actually an
intelligent young lady.  She was not Einstein's cousin but she was
definitely above average intelligence.

   However, if was Miss Sarah's beauty, and not her brains, which was most
captivating.  She had the face of an angel.  If she had been painted by
daVinci, people today would be saying "Mona who?" She had big brown eyes
which could melt any man's heart at any time and under any circumstances.
She had big pouty lips which begged to be kissed.  Like her mother, she had
big breasts which were certainly too large to be called "pert" or "perky"
but which were definitely young and firm and not saggy like Gretchen's
hooters.  Miss Sarah's little behind was so cute that I always just wanted
to grab it and squeeze.  She had a few -- a very few -- extra pounds which
needed to disappear, the kind of pounds which usually were referred to as
"baby fat," but she really wasn't fat.  She was a nubile goddess, an
undefiled example of sensual innocence and budding sexuality.  She was a
goddess, she was my goddess.

   * * *

   After I had located Gretchen in Ohio and re-established our
communications, I eventually went there to visit.  I won't bore you with
too many details of me regularly fucking a 48 year-old, overweight,
saggy-titted, used-up, has-been housewife in every room of her house,
including her daughter's bedroom.  I won't bore you because it was just
fucking.  Now, it wasn't bad sex because, quite honestly, I've never had
bad sex.  But, as they say, I've never had bad sex, but some of that sex is
better than the rest.  This sex wasn't the better kind.  Of course, I told
Gretchen that it was great sex, but, really, it was just fucking.

   One morning, Gretchen and I awoke early, long before her daughter was
capable of opening her eyes and putting both feet on the floor.  I was
horny, as usual, so we fucked on the sofa in the living room.  The
possibility that her daughter might wake up and catch us made it a little
more exciting, and that at least partially compensated for the fact that
Gretchen's pussy was a sloppy fit for any normal-sized guy.  I don't know
if it was loose from childbirth, excessive fucking in her youth, or years
of her ex-husband stuffing an extra large dildo in her pussy three times a
week (by her description, he was truly a twisted, sick son of a bitch,) but
it was not a tight fit.

   After Gretchen and I had sex, we got dressed and fixed a cup of coffee.
I stood in the family room behind Gretchen, who sat at her computer desk
and began reviewing her e-mails.  We spoke quietly for a minute as she
scanned the long list of unopened items and then she became absorbed in a
rather lengthy missive from a friend.

   I heard a noise in Miss Sarah's bedroom.  Her bedroom adjoined the
family room.  She had slept with her door only partially closed, as was her
habit.  As you stood in her doorway facing into her room, her majority of
her room was to the right, but her bedroom door was also hinged on the
right side; very little of the room was visible from this vantage.  In a
more modern house, the door would have been hinged on the left side, but
Gretchen's house was old and had several bizarre features.

   As you stood in the doorway with the door halfway open, you could not
see much of her bedroom, except her antique dresser which was against the
opposite wall straight ahead.  The dresser had three mirrored sections. 
The middle section was fixed to the back of the dresser and the two side
sections were hinged to the middle section and were angled slightly
inwards. Miss Sarah probably assumed that she had some privacy when her
bedroom door was halfway closed, because she couldn't see out of her room;
however, from my vantage point in the dining room, the angled mirror on the
left side of the dresser afforded a rather good view of what lay behind her
partially closed door.

   I looked up and glanced towards her room.  In the mirror, I saw that she
had risen and was standing at the foot of her bed.  She was wearing only
bikini panties: tiny, white bikini panties.  Just awakening, with tousled
hair, she stood there, the sexiest vision of loveliness that I have ever
seen.  She had well-developed breasts, at least a 36C, and her areolae were
a pinkish-brown color, each about the size of a silver dollar.  As my gaze
dropped to her panties, I could see a very prominent pubic mound.  I
immediately assumed that she had very firm and protruding labia.

   From that moment forward, I felt that I was living a life scripted by
Vladimir Nabokov.  Miss Sarah was my enticing young Lolita and it was at
that very moment that I truly fell in love with her.  Yes, I know that this
sounds absurd and I hesitate to commit this recollection to writing.  If
the wrong person reads this, I will be publicly condemned and humiliated.
But, just as I fell in love with her without any conscious exercise of free
will, I similarly feel compelled to express these thoughts in prose. 
Perhaps the writing of this story will help to free me from the demon which
possesses me, my obsession with Miss Sarah.

   Miss Sarah was totally unaware that I was watching her.  Her mother was
seated directly in front of me but fortunately still absorbed in her
e-mail. My gaze continued unabated, my attention transfixed, my eyes
feasting upon the delectable and innocent nakedness of Miss Sarah.

   The young goddess then placed her hands on her hips and slowly pulled
her panties down just low enough so that her pussy was exposed.  A man with
a heart condition might not have survived that moment, but my heart
continued to beat ever so strong with the same virile pulse that energized
my burgeoning erection.

   I know that I would be flattering myself too much to think that she
sensed my watchful eyes and simply wanted to lure me with a show of her
most private treasures.  No, the real explanation was probably much more
mundane.  She was likely waiting for her monthly flow to begin and was
checking to see if it had started during the night.  I can think of no
other realistic reason why she would have pulled her panties down but,
whatever the reason, I was glad for it.

   Miss Sarah's dark pubic hair was so bushy that I could not see her pussy
lips at all.  As I attempted to perceive her young hidden slit, she placed
her right hand between her legs and cupped it so that it conformed to her
body as she brought it in contact with her hairy young mound.  She then
removed her hand, looked at it briefly, and pulled her panties up.  She
reached for a bathrobe.  I turned to face Gretchen, drew close to the back
of her chair and began reading over her shoulder.

   When Miss Sarah emerged from her bedroom, she had no idea that I had
just enjoyed my first look at her forbidden nakedness.  Fortunately, she
also could not see the tent pole in my pants.  This stirring of my manhood
was taking much longer than usual to subside.

   "What would it be like to have my dick inside that enticing young
pussy?" I wondered as I placed my hands on her mother's shoulders.

   * * *

   Months later, Gretchen and her daughter moved to Georgia because it was
obvious that Gretchen and I would eventually be married.  It was
surrealistic, much worse that "Waiting For Godot." It was like watching a
train wreck in slow motion.  The simplest application of logic suggested
that such a thing should not happen.  It was absurd to think that I would
marry this woman.  But I made no effort to extricate myself from the
situation.  I was a prisoner of complacency, a steady customer for
Gretchen's offering - available and regular sex - even if it wasn't great
sex.  Fucking Gretchen was definitely better than taking matters into my
own hands and, occasionally, Gretchen gave me really good oral sex.  So
time continued and the entire universe stood by silently as the train wreck
unfolded.

   Gretchen, Miss Sarah, and I went camping just a few weeks after they had
moved to Georgia.  We had only one tent, so a certain amount of privacy
would be compromised.  We had one double sleeping bag which would be shared
by Gretchen and Miss Sarah and another that would be occupied by only
myself.

   When we got in the tent that night, Gretchen was the first to get into
her sleeping bag.  We had a lantern which provided just enough light so
that we could see everything inside the tent.  Gretchen had changed into
pajamas in the Ladies Room but Miss Sarah was still wearing the jeans and
tee shirt she had been wearing during the day.

   When Miss Sarah got to the point where she was ready to get in the
sleeping bag, her mother was already sleeping soundly.  In fact, Gretchen
was making tiny little lady snores.  They were just loud enough that Miss
Sarah and I could hear them and we both knew exactly where the noise was
coming from.  The idea of her mother snoring made Miss Sarah giggle and it
was a cute little laugh, in fact a seductive little laugh, a laugh that had
me wanting to put my arms around her waist and hold her tightly.

   Miss Sarah said something about needing to change out of her clothes and
then added that she didn't feel like walking the distance back to the
Ladies Room to change.  "Well, you're gonna be part of the family soon
enough," she said.  She didn't ask me to turn and look away while she
changed.  She simply removed her t-shirt and jeans and stood facing me,
wearing only her panties and bra.

   I was glad that I was already in my sleeping bag, because as soon as I
saw her panty covered mons, I had an erection.  I also had an overwhelming
urge to pull her panties down and bury my tongue in her pussy but, at the
very same time, I wanted to bury my dick in her pussy and pound her virgin
cunt until she begged me to stop.

   "Don't look," she said coyly, but she didn't wait for me to turn or
close my eyes.  She reached behind herself to release her tits from the
confines of her lacy bra.  As soon as the fastener was undone, she let the
bra slip from her arms and she stood before me in only her panties.  I had
previously seen her breasts but welcomed the opportunity to become
reacquainted once again with those twin pinnacles of inviting flesh, even
if only from a distance.

   "You're beautiful," I whispered to her as she pulled a sleep shirt over
her head, removing her lovely twin peaks from my field of vision.

   "And you're sweet.  Goodnight, Ron," she said angelically as she entered
her sleeping bag.

   "Goodnight, sweetie," I replied.  After 15 minutes of thinking about
nothing but Miss Sarah, her panties, her tits, and all the fun I would like
to have with her, it was obvious that I was not going to sleep anytime
soon.

   I unzipped my sleeping bag, stood up and pulled on my shorts.

   "Ron, where are you going?" Miss Sarah whispered from across the tent.

   "I've got to go pee," I said, but that was only half of the truth.  I
had to go jerk off so that I could get some sleep.  My mind was filled with
the image of this beautiful 18 year-old girl standing just a few feet away
from me, clad only in her panties, my right hand inside those panties and
my middle finger alternating between the depths of her wet pussy and the
thrill of rubbing her clit.  I could hear her moaning as clearly as if it
was real and I spurted an unusually large load of cum as my fantasy Miss
Sarah had her orgasm.

   * * *

   I began living in the house with Gretchen and her daughter after some
severe weather came through our part of the state.  From that time forward,
Gretchen and I had frequent and mediocre sex.  She had finally gotten over
her hang-up about Miss Sarah hearing us, which I had accepted as a rather
common hindrance to sex for most couples with kids.  We were having sex at
least 3 or 4 times per week, but even with the occasional oral sex, it
quickly became very monotonous.

   I loved undressing Gretchen and enjoyed performing a slow seduction of
her body and soul.  She knew that, but she always simply undressed and got
into bed naked.  It was like she was saying to me, "well, here I am naked,
so you might as well come fuck me and get it over with before I go to
sleep." That didn't exactly create the mood for passionate lovemaking.

   I would start sucking on one nipple and rubbing on Gretchen's clit,
mainly in broad circles, with very light pressure.  Gretchen would start
fondling my balls and stroking my dick.  I would tell her to slow down. 
She would tell me to not rub her clit so hard.  She would then reach for
the lubricant and apply an ample amount to my shaft.  Sometimes, she would
also uses her fingers to apply some lube to her labia.  When Gretchen
started to become aroused, I would suck her nipple into my mouth and very
lightly caress it with my teeth.  This always took her to the next level.
She would then get up "on all fours" and motion for me to get behind her.
With her right hand between her legs, she would guide my dick to her ready
and prepared pussy.  I then would pump away to the rhythmic strains of Hot
Dick And The Crotch Bumping Boogie.  About 20-30 beats of that tune was
usually all it took for me to release a supply of my seed into her hungry
hole.

   Quite often, Gretchen would orgasm at the same time as me, but her
orgasm lasted much longer.  I would have 6 or 7 spurts, probably 2-3
seconds apart, and then my orgasm was done.  I never timed it, but it
probably lasted between 12 and 20 seconds.  My dick would be extremely
sensitive for the next minute or so, but the orgasm was over.

   She, on the other hand, would have an initial orgasm that lasted about
30 seconds.  Then, the least movement or the slightest "dirty talk" from me
would set her off again.  If I pulled my dick back just the slightest or
said something like "you're pussy feels good," she would begin her next
orgasm and it would be every bit as long, and as strong, as the initial
orgasm.  Sometimes, it apparently took absolutely nothing to set her off
again.  She could go on with successive waves of ecstatic moans and total
body orgasms for 5 minutes.

   Occasionally I would slide my index finger down her spine, ever so
lightly, and the feather touch would cause her to orgasm again.  When this
happened, I would sometimes let my finger continue to slide further, down
her ass crack and it would come to rest on her asshole.  If she was in the
midst of an orgasm when I did this, the intensity of her muscular
contractions would at least double and I would feel her pussy grabbing my
dick as if it didn't want to let go.

   When she had multiple orgasms like this, her pussy would contract and
squeeze my dick and I would either pull out of her pussy or get hard again.
I have never done this with any other partner, but I would occasionally be
able to stay hard after I came and keep thrusting into her pussy, giving
her several orgasms.  Eventually, she would ask me to stop because she was
exhausted.  I would get a big grin on my face, like I was the king stud in
this town.  Maybe that's part of why I kept hanging around for more with
Gretchen.

   At times, I was distracted and I knew that I would need stronger
stimulation to bring me to the point of orgasm.  On these occasions, I
often thought about my Miss Sarah.  I thought about kissing her lips.  I
thought about sucking on her nipples.  I thought about playing with her
cute ass.  But most of all, I thought about having my dick in her pussy and
thrusting until we both collapsed in a musky heap of orgasmic sweat and
virgin pussy juice.  These fantasies would always bring me to an orgasm.

   * * *

   With the schedules that we all had for work and school, I was often the
last one to leave the house in the mornings.  One morning, I passed by Miss
Sarah's bedroom and the door was open.  Despite my tremendous adoration for
her, I certainly knew that the girl was not perfect.  One of her faults was
that she was very much a slob in the housekeeping of her bedroom.  This day
was no exception.  She had dirty clothes strewn about her floor.

   I noticed a pair of her panties on the floor, crumpled up, obviously
already worn, and waiting to be taken to the laundry.  I looked out in the
driveway to make sure that no one had returned home and then I entered the
bedroom.

   I picked up the panties and held them in my hands.  They were like gold
coins to an explorer.  I felt the fabric.  I looked in the crotch of the
panties and there was a slight damp stain in the panties.  These must be
the panties she was wearing last night, I thought.  I held them to my nose
and inhaled.  What a deep, rich, earthy aroma was exuded from this skimpy
cotton garment.  I fantasized that she had been wearing these panties while
she masturbated and the dampness was her female juice captured by the
fabric.  I licked the crotch of her panties and it tasted salty.  I buried
my nose in the panties again, savoring the aroma.  This smelled nothing
like Gretchen.  This was truly an elixir, a smell that would set any man's
loins on fire.  I returned the panties to the floor, careful to approximate
the position of the panties so that my intrusion would go unnoticed.

   Over the next year, I probably entered Miss Sarah's bedroom a hundred
times for the sole purpose of sniffing her panties.  Yes, I know that the
last sentence sums it up rather well: what a pathetic and extremely
perverted thing to do.  Well, and if that's what you think, you're right. I
knew how sad and pathetic it was at the time I was doing it, but I couldn't
stop.  I was obsessed.  I was possessed.

   About a year after Gretchen and Sarah moved to Georgia, Gretchen and I
got married.  Even after we were married, I continued to crave the smell of
Miss Sarah's panties and I continued to peruse her dirty laundry regularly
for fragrant undies.

   It was like an addiction.  I needed to smell her panties, I needed to
know how it would smell to have my face near her heavenly slit.  I did what
was necessary to satisfy that need.  Was this what a Southern gentleman
would do?  Absolutely not!  Was I ashamed of myself every time I did it? 
Absolutely!  Did the shame ever deter me from my obsession?  Not once!

   I don't know if my frequent intrusions went unnoticed but nothing was
ever said on the subject.

   * * *

   After living in the house for about a year, I noticed that the bathroom
door had a sizeable crack at the bottom.  It occurred to me that perhaps if
I laid on the floor, I could look under the door and see into the bathroom.
As soon as I was left alone in the house, I tried it but all I could see
was the bathroom floor.  Maybe a mirror would help me to see under the door
and into the bathroom.

   I found a small mirror, closed the bathroom door, and rested the mirror
at an angle on the floor at the bottom of the door.  Voile!  I could see
the bottom 5 feet of the door at the opposite end of the bathroom.  I was
concerned that perhaps the mirror would be visible to anyone, like Miss
Sarah, who was in the bathroom so I left the mirror propped up in place and
entered the bathroom via the other door.  When I looked at where I knew the
mirror to be, it was not visible.  I immediately knew what would happen
next.

   Gretchen was frequently gone in the afternoons and early evenings and
this was when Miss Sarah would usually take a shower.  The next time we
were alone, Miss Sarah announced that she was going to take a shower and I
very nonchalantly said, "Okay, honey."

   If I tried to use the mirror to watch her as she undressed in the
bathroom, I faced the possibility that she might realize she had forgotten
something in her bedroom and would then open the bathroom door to find me
kneeling there with a mirror in hand.  Obviously, that would be disastrous
and I had to be more careful than that.  I grabbed the mirror but waited
for her to begin and then finish her shower.  I would take my look as she
was exiting the bathtub.

   I am sure that she stayed in the shower at least 30 minutes that night,
as if she knew I was waiting and wanted to torture me with the agony of
waiting almost forever for what I hoped would be a wonderful sight. 
Finally, I heard her turn off the water and I knelt at the door with mirror
positioned.  I was soon rewarded.

   She exited the bathtub and stood facing the door, drying her hair.  I
could very clearly see her pussy and boobs.  I had already seen her boobs
but the view of her pussy was a new sight.  She had shaved her pubic hair
and her pussy looked like it belonged on a little girl.  It was so very
cute!  Contrary to my assumptions, she did not have protruding labia like
her mother.  No, she had a very simple slit between two very full outer
lips.

   I certainly wanted to fling that door open and run to her so that I
could bury my tongue in her pussy but, of course, I did not do that.  She
stopped drying her hair and started walking towards the door.  I moved as
quickly as I have ever moved in my life, returning to the kitchen within 2
seconds and putting the mirror back where I had found it.

   Miss Sarah stayed in the bathroom for another 5 minutes.  When she
walked out, she had the towel wrapped around her body so that it covered
her boobs and it hung just low enough to cover her pussy and ass as she
walked the few steps to her bedroom.  Maybe she didn't realize how her
behavior was teasing me but my balls ached for release.  I probably used
the mirror-at-the-bathroom-door trick another 15 to 20 times over the next
year and masturbated afterwards at least 15 of those times.

   * * *

   Gretchen went to Ohio to visit friends for several weeks during the
particularly hot summer after Miss Sarah had finally graduated from high
school, leaving her and me together without adequate adult supervision. 
The first Saturday that Gretchen was gone, I told Miss Sarah that I was
going out to the pool.  I asked if she would join me to give me some
pointers on swimming, since she is an excellent swimmer and I am, at best,
an excellent sinker.  She agreed and went to her room to change into her
bikini.

   I always thought that the girl looked particularly hot in a bikini and
my dick certainly agreed.  I was already in the water when she came out to
the pool.  I had an instant erection, of course.  She got in the water and
said, "Okay.  Let's work on you floating."

   With that, she got in the water and she looked even sexier when she was
wet.  Mr.  Boing went from 9.9 steel to 10.0 case-hardened steel.  Miss
Sarah walked over to me, placed one hand behind my back and the other
behind my knees, sweeping me up so that I had no choice but to float.  It
was quite obvious that I had a tent pole in my swim suit and I saw her
carefully checking it out but she didn't say a word and, eventually, it
subsided.

   When we were finished, I went inside to change.  Gretchen and I almost
never closed our bedroom door when we were changing.  Miss Sarah was the
only other person in the house and she never came into our bedroom without
knocking or announcing that she needed to enter the room.  So, by habit, I
didn't close the bedroom door.  I removed all of my clothes, dried myself,
and pulled on my whitey-tighties.

   "Ron, can we . . .," said a familiar female voice that was much closer
than I expected it to be.

   I looked up and Miss Sarah was standing just a few feet away, watching,
her mouth left slightly open as she paused mid-sentence.  She was still in
her wet bikini, looking like the ultimate queen of all desirable teenage
virgins.  I don't know how long she had been standing there but the thought
of her seeing me naked got me instantly hard again and, this time, she was
not discreet in observing my state of arousal.

   ". . .  go out for dinner tonight?" She got a smile on her face.  "That
is, if you can get your pants on." With that comment, she turned and walked
out of the room.

   As soon as I got dressed, I went to find her so I could ask about how
long she had been looking at me.  I didn't know if she would mention this
to her mother and thought that it would be better if I addressed this with
her first rather than simply waiting to see what, if anything, might
happen.

   Her bedroom door was open and the light was on so I assumed she was in
her bedroom.  I stopped in the doorway and saw her standing at her closet,
looking through her wardrobe.  She had removed her bikini top but was still
wearing her bikini bottoms.  "Dear . . .," I began.

   She turned and faced me, making no effort to cover her tits.  The sight
of those nipples had me hard again and I didn't need to look to know that
my pants were tenting once again.  Damn this was frustrating!

   She waited a moment for me to finish my sentence but I didn't.  I
couldn't.  She said "I'm not sure but I think I'm going to wear my green
shorts today.  Do you think I should wear my dark green panties or my light
green thong?"

   That question just made matters worse for me.  "I'm color-blind, so I
don't care if you wear any panties at all," I said, realizing as soon as
the words left my lips that this sentence made no sense whatsoever.  I
turned and left her room, finding my way back to my bathroom so I could
relieve my problem.  As soon as I got to my bedroom, I removed my pants and
undies.  Again, I didn't bother to close the bedroom door or the door into
the master bathroom.  At this point, I didn't care whether she came in and
watched.  I just started stroking my rod and it didn't take long before I
was shooting out jets of cum, my eyes closed, lost in fantasies about my
mouth and her tits.

   * * *

   Over the next few weeks, while her mother was still in Ohio, Miss Sarah
began walking around the house in just her panties and bra.  Sometimes, she
would wear just her panties and a short silk robe that she left untied.  It
hung over her boobs so that her nipples weren't exposed unless she bent
over, turned around quickly, or sat down so that the robe gaped open.  Her
panties were usually very form fitting and, now that she apparently shaved
her pubic hair, the crotch of her panties followed the contours of that
delightful pussy so that she had an obvious camel toe.

   I figured that what was good for the goose would be good for the gander.
I began to change out of all my clothes except my undies fairly early in
the evening and put on a robe that I, too, left untied.  I walked into the
family room and sat down to watch TV.  I reclined on my side and positioned
my legs so that they were in a "frog" position, feet touching, knees apart
with legs at an angle to each other.  My crotch would be very clearly
exposed if Miss Sarah sat down next to me.

   Within a few minutes, she walked into the family room and asked what I
was watching.  I have no idea what I was watching but she pretended to be
interested and sat down at the opposite end of the couch.  By taking this
position, it almost looked innocent and natural that she would sit down
facing me rather than the TV.  Initially, she turned her head so that she
was, indeed, watching what was on the TV.  I was watching her through my
peripheral vision and I soon noticed her checking me out yet again.

   My awareness of her looking at my undies caused my dick to start
twitching.  As soon as she saw some movement in my underwear, her gaze
became even more intent and her eyes widened slightly.  Excellent, I
thought.  She's turned on by this, too.

   Less than a minute later, Miss Sarah said that she was going to bed and
she got up and walked to her room.  I heard the bedroom door shut and I
immediately thought that was peculiar because she always slept with her
door open.  I could also see light coming under the door from within her
bedroom so I knew she wasn't in bed.  The sound on the TV was turned down
so the house was very quiet.

   As I stood at her bedroom door, I listened and heard a humming noise. 
About 30 seconds later, I heard her beginning to moan.  She was in her
bedroom using a vibrator to masturbate!

   I was immediately filled with such an intense sexual rush.  My little
Miss Sarah was in her bedroom masturbating.  She was using a vibrator and I
didn't even know that she owned one.  She was masturbating immediately
after watching my dick twitch.  While masturbating, she was probably
fantasizing about my dick.  She wanted my dick.

   I knew then that I wanted to fuck her.  I didn't care that it was wrong.
I didn't care what would happen to me afterwards.  I just wanted to shoot
my cum into that shaved little pussy.

   * * *

   Miss Sarah did not lack intelligence but she did lack any sense of
dedication to her education.  Despite her constant assurances that she was
doing well in school, her report cards told a different story.  At the
midpoint of her senior year in high school, whether she would actually get
the grades to graduate on schedule was in doubt.

   Having always done well in school, I could not understand why she seemed
so unconcerned about her poor school performance.  It was if she was living
in a dream world, talking about going to college and becoming a
veterinarian while, in reality, she was having difficulty with her basic
high school curriculum.  I was desperate to do whatever I could to motivate
her for a relatively strong finish, at least strong enough to get her
diploma in June.

   During Christmas break, I approached her with an offer.  "Listen,
Sweetie, I know you don't want to talk about this but I'm not so sure that
you're going to have the grades to graduate this spring.  And I'm sure you
don't want to be celebrating your 20th birthday while you're still in high
school.  So, what's it gonna take to get you motivated?"

   "Gee, do we have to talk about this now?" she asked.  Obviously, she
wanted to postpone this conversation and reschedule it for the 12th of
Never.

   "No, I guess we could wait and talk about it in August while we're
shopping for school supplies for one more year at Chatham High.  Or . . ."

   "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" she complained.

   "Yes I do.  Do you have to be so damned lazy about school?" As soon as I
said this, I realized that this conversation needed to change directions or
it was going to be totally unproductive.  "Okay, I'm gonna try something
different here.  I don't think that you would resent a bribe, if it's a
good enough bribe, so how about this?  If you graduate this spring, I'll
take you and your mom on a one week Caribbean cruise.  Do you think that
could get you motivated?"

   She looked directly at me and maintained eye contact for what seemed
like hours.  "Do you really mean that?"

   "No, I just said it to keep up my reputation as a lying pig!  Of course
I mean it.  I've never lied to you, not once, not ever.  Graduate and we'll
go on that cruise, but that means graduate this year, not next year.  Can
you do that?"

   "Just you wait and see," she replied with a gleam in her eye.

   * * *

   Three months later, my marriage with Gretchen had fallen apart.  We were
like two strangers living in the same house.  I spent my nights on the
sofa. Sex was something that I now did only with my hand; sex with my wife
had not occurred in months.  Gretchen was like a 14 year-old kid who wanted
freedoms without responsibilities.  She didn't contribute any money to the
household expenses, she rarely cooked, and she was an awful housekeeper. 
If she had fucked like a horny 18 year-old girl, I probably would have
tolerated the rest of her crap for a very long time.  But, when we did have
sex, it was more of that formula sex with a somewhat smelly pussy and a
lousy attitude.  I knew it was only a matter of time before we would file
for a divorce.

   In the meanwhile, Miss Sarah had started to withdraw from me.  I suppose
that she sensed the impending breakup of the marriage and she had the good
sense to know that she really had no choice about with whom she would cast
her lot.

   It was never a question in my mind.  I knew that a divorce meant that I
would also lose my precious, sweet Miss Sarah, the wonderful young girl who
also happened to be the object of my unrelenting passion and lust.  To
avoid the trauma of a sudden loss of my time and affections, she had
initiated a gradual withdrawal from my life; it was not hostile, but it was
very deliberate, and it hurt.  It hurt more than the failure of my
marriage.

   Gretchen filed for the divorce and it proceeded rather quickly.  It had
been a brief marriage and we had not accumulated much to divide.  Gretchen
was an unreasonable brat and initially thought she should get alimony just
because it would make her life easier.  Fortunately, her attorney explained
that "wouldn't-it-be-nice" was not a legal justification for alimony and it
was very rare for alimony to be awarded after a marriage of less than two
years.  After that non-issue was resolved, the divorce happened very
quickly.

   We had separated in March and the divorce was final by the middle of
April.  I had not heard from Miss Sarah since the separation and was hoping
that we might re-open our communication after the divorce was final.  Of
course, it all depended on Gretchen not acting like a venomous and
vindictive snake, so I really had no confidence that it would ever occur,
until . . ..

   It was May 12, a Thursday, about 3:30 in the afternoon.  I was in the
office when my secretary put a call through to me.  I yelled to remind her
that I did not want to be disturbed, but she told me in her
mother-knows-best voice that I needed to take this call.

   "Hello, this is Ron Wilson.  Can I help you?" I always answered the
telephone at the office with the same introduction.

   "Ron, this is Sarah.  Do you have time for us to talk now?" she asked.

   "Of course, sweetie.  Just give me a minute to get up and close my
office door.  You know my secretary likes to listen in whenever I have a
personal call." I made a silly face at my secretary as I closed the door.

   "I'm so glad you called, sweetie.  I've thought about you every day
since your Mom and I separated." I dare not explain to her exactly what I
had been thinking or what I had been doing to myself when I was thinking
about her.

   "I've thought about you a lot, too," Sarah said.  I don't know if it was
true but, if not, it was sweet of her to lie about it.

   "Well, I'm not sure why you're calling but I'm glad you did.  I'd love
to see you sometime soon." I certainly wanted to see my little angel.

   "Well, I'm free for dinner tonight," she offered in her sweet voice that
was usually reserved for times when she was trolling for favors.

   "Yeah, that sounds great.  I probably shouldn't come over and pick you
up so why don't you meet me at Luigi's around 7:00?" She loved Luigi's and
I knew it.

   "Can we get the pizza special?" she asked, sounding like a kid.

   "You bet, sweetie.  See you there at 7:00."

   I worked until 6:30 and then headed straight for Luigi's.  I got there
about ten minutes early and Miss Sarah was already there, waiting in the
lobby.

   When she looked up and saw me walking in, she got such a big smile on
her face.  Seeing that smile really warmed my soul.  It was definitely the
best medicine I had received in a long time.

   Miss Sarah jumped up and ran to me, placing her arms around me and
giving me a nice, big hug before she planted a kiss on my cheek.

   "It's been too long," she said, now sounding much more like an adult.

   "Yeah, but you're just as beautiful as I remember you," I said.

   We quickly got seated and ordered our pizza.  Our drinks arrived and I
soon learned what had prompted this meeting.

   "Ron, I have some great news, some bad news, and some good news," she
said.  "The great news is that I had my last final two days ago and I got
the results today, right before I called you.  I passed all my courses and
I'm graduating next week." She was all smiles and her face could have lit
up the dark side of the moon.

   "Oh, baby, that's great.  I knew you could do it," I said.  I leaned
over to her and gave her a hug.  As we were still embraced, I whispered in
her ear, "I'm so proud of you."

   "Now, what's the bad news?" I asked.

   "Well, you know that Mom's been kind of mental the past few months . .
.," she began.

   "Actually, much longer than that," I interjected.

   ". . .  and it wouldn't be such a great idea for you to actually attend
the graduation.  I'm sorry, you know, but she's my Mom."

   'Poor Sarah,' I thought to myself, 'thinking that she needs to explain
this.'

   "Oh, no, honey," I said, "I understand this absolutely and, yes, she is
your mother and she just absolutely has to be there, so I guess I'll miss
it.  I'll hate it but it's the only right thing to do.  I wish there was
something else we could do to celebrate your graduation."

   "Well, actually, there is.  Do you remember back in December, you
promised to take Mom and me on a cruise if I graduated?"

   "Yeah, well, I don't think your Mom and I are going anywhere." Holy cow,
what a fiasco that would be!

   "No, silly!  Of course you and Mom aren't going anywhere.  But you can
still take me on a cruise.  You do still love me, don't you?" She batted
her eyelashes and gave me the puppy dog eyes.  She was a skillful little
tease but we both knew that she was just messing with me; still, it was a
very effective female maneuver.

   "Miss Sarah, I love you more than anyone else in the whole world.  But,
I doubt your momma would let you go on a cruise with me." I immediately
loved the idea of Miss Sarah and me together for a week but I didn't think
her mother would ever approve of the idea.  Legally, Miss Sarah was no
longer a minor and she didn't need her mother's permission to do anything,
but she still lived with her mother so she really didn't have too much
freedom.

   "Oh, I've already got that covered.  As soon as I got the news about
graduating, I reminded Mom about your promise.  The first thing she said
was that if she got you alone in a cruise ship cabin, she'd do a Lorena
Bobbitt to you.  'I don't ever want to see that son of a bitch again.'
She's still kind of worked up over the divorce, you know."

   "Yeah, that much I know for sure," I explained.

   "The next thing she said is 'that cheap son of a bitch isn't gonna keep
his promise to you.  But if he'll agree to take you, go for it.  And, as
soon as you get on that boat, charge at least $1,000 of merchandise to the
room number.  He won't know about it until he's checking out.  Get every
thing you can out of him while you can 'cause he's no damn good.'" It
obviously pained Miss Sarah to repeat the details of this conversation but
I assume that she wanted to convince me that the road was clear for us to
take a trip together.

   "Sweetie, I'd love to take you on a cruise, but, are you sure that you
want to spend a week with me on a cruise ship where you don't know anyone
else?" I know the idea sounded exciting, at least to me, but I wasn't sure
that she had really thought it through.

   "Ron, this is what I thought about every day while I was working on that
stupid school work so I could graduate.  And even after it was obvious that
you guys were gonna divorce, I was still hoping you'd keep your promise. 
You'd better believe I wanna go." She was quite convincing.

   "What week do you wanna go?" I asked.

   With the realization that this cruise was really going to happen, she
shrieked with excitement.  Everyone in the restaurant was turning to look
but she was oblivious as she put her arms around my neck and gave me
another kiss on the cheek.

   The hugs and kisses on the cheek were nice but I was hoping that it
would get much better when we were finally alone.

   * * *

   I told Miss Sarah what weeks I could travel and what the budget was for
the cruise fare.  As long as she kept within those parameters, she was free
to book any cruise that she wanted.  Entrusting her with that much
responsibility was flattering to her, as she felt like she was being
treated like an adult and that was a rare experience for her.

   After tormenting herself with the range of possibilities, she finally
booked a week-long cruise in the eastern Caribbean on a major cruise line.
It was the kind of cruise that I would have probably selected.  When she
called to tell me the details, I complimented her on her selection.

   "Sweetie, that's a wonderful choice," I said.  "You really are growing
up, aren't you?" It was a rhetorical question but she replied anyway.

   "You know, actually, I'm growing up in many ways but I don't think too
many adults realize that, yet," she lamented.  "This cruise will give me
more of a chance to show that I'm becoming an adult.  You know," she
continued, "we'll being sharing a cabin for a week.  Are you okay with
that?"

   "What d'ya mean?" I asked.  I thought I knew what she meant but I wanted
to hear her say it.

   "Well, you know, those cabins aren't very big and Kelly says the
bathrooms are definitely too small to get dressed in, so it's not like
there gonna be much privacy.  That's not gonna freak you out, is it?" she
asked.

   'Freak me out?' I thought to myself.  'What an absolute dream come
true!'

   "Well, honey, we have seen each other without much in the way of
clothes, but it's been awhile.  I really hadn't thought about that." I
usually don't lie but this was all I had thought about for the past several
weeks.  "I'm not sure how it would feel and I'd hate to get out on the boat
and find out that it's too much for us to handle.  We'd be in a tough fix,
then."

   "Well, how about if we have a practice at your apartment?  I can come
spend the weekend and we'll act just like we're in the cabin on the ship
and you'll see it's fine," she assured me.

   "Yeah, but your momma ain't gonna let you spend the weekend with me," I
said.  I didn't want to sound too eager about this plan.

   "No problem.  Mom's going out of town this weekend, leaving Friday
morning and not coming back 'til Sunday night.  She'll never know." Miss
Sarah thought quick on her feet, for sure.

   "Well, I'm not encouraging you to lie to your Momma, but I'm not getting
in the middle of it, either.  So, if you show up at my apartment on Friday,
I won't turn you away."

   "Okay," she replied.  "I'll be there about 5:30.  And you'd better take
me out to eat somewhere nice Friday night." We both understand that her
directive was really a request and we both knew that I would do whatever I
could to make her happy, so of course we'd be going out somewhere nice to
eat Friday night.

   * * *

   Miss Sarah appeared at my front door very promptly at 5:30 Friday
afternoon.  I had just gotten home from work and had only had time to
peruse the day's assortment of junk mail and bills.

   I carried her suitcase into my bedroom and she followed me.  "Where are
we going to eat tonight?" she asked, making it very obvious that she
remembered my implicit promise.

   "I thought we'd go to that new bistro over in Ripley Hills," I said. 
"But, I need to take a shower and change clothes first."

   "Me, too," she replied.  "I'll get in the shower first."

   With that statement, she stood up and began removing her clothes.  My
head tried to tell me that I shouldn't be openly staring at her but my
brain had absolutely no control over my body at that point.  She pulled her
shirt over her head and revealed that she was wearing a very feminine
off-white bra.  Without missing a beat, she unzipped her jeans and pushed
the waist down past her hip, past her knees, and she then stepped out of
her pants.  She was wearing a matching off-white thong.  Her ass was a
beautiful sight; it looked so firm and toned, I wanted to grab both cheeks
and squeeze.

   She then reached behind her shoulders to unfasten her bra.  She spent
only a few seconds fumbling with it before she asked me to help.

   "Ron, can you unfasten this for me?" she asked, knowing beyond doubt
that I would.

   I stood behind her and placed my right hand under the bra strap,
grasping one side near the fastener.  I used my let hand to unhook the bra
and I allowed the backs of my fingers to graze and linger on the soft,
seductive flesh of her back.  I moaned very softly as I enjoyed the
pleasure of her warm, naked flesh.

   "Thanks, sweetie," she said as she turned her head to look back at me.
At the same time, she allowed her bra to fall to the floor.  In one swift,
fluid motion, she leaned forward and pulled her thong down.  As the thong
reached her ankles, it occurred to me that the position we were in would be
perfect for me to enter her from the rear.  The thought of having my dick
in her pussy from behind while I felt the skin of her butt against my
pelvis had me heard in an instant.

   She momentarily ignored me as completely as if I were not present.  She
walked straight forward towards the shower and then turned as she reached
the shower door.  Her shaved pussy was now fully exposed to me, if only at
a distance, and my dick was straining against my pants.  What an absolute
vision of heaven.  This was my first authorized, non-surreptitious view of
Miss Sarah's naked body and she was beautiful beyond words.  Miss Sarah
stared at my erection in hiding.

   "I don't think this is gonna be a problem for me," she said as she
stared at my crotch, "but we'll have to see if that's gonna be a problem
for you," she continued, nodding towards my obvious boner.  She then
giggled and got in the shower stall.  The glass was opaque so her form was
obscured and I could not discern any details of the naked female in the
shower.  However, the mental image was stuck in my mind as if it had been
burned there by a laser.

   "Ron, why don't you shave while I'm finishing my shower?" she suggested.
Perhaps that would get my mind off of her nubile womanhood.

   Miss Sarah turned off the water and grabbed a towel so she could dry her
body before leaving the shower.  When the shower door finally opened, she
emerged with the towel wrapped around her body, concealing her tits and her
pussy.

   "Okay.  Get those clothes off and get in the shower," Miss Sarah tried
to direct me.  It sounded as if she was eager to finally see me naked.

   I had already removed my shirt before I shaved.  I quickly had my pants
off and I was now covered only by my boxers.  My erection was quite obvious
to Miss Sarah.

   "You're kind of excited about all this, aren't you?" she asked in a
little girl teasing voice.  I thought she might be entertaining the idea
that she was in control, like leading a greyhound around the track with the
elusive promise of a rabbit.  And, I'll admit, looking at her naked body
was quite an incentive for me to do almost anything.

   "Turn around," I ordered her.  She got a look on her face that suggested
that she wanted to complain but, instead, she complied with my command.

   I pulled down my boxers so that I was now completely naked.  I walked
over to Miss Sarah and stood behind her so that her back was just inches
from my body.  I reached down and lifted the towel that was obscuring her
ass and then I pressed my body against hers.  My dick pushed against her
ass cleavage and I placed my hands on her hips.

   The teasing was to much for me and I needed to take this game to the
next level.  Leaning my head forward slightly, I whispered in her ear. 
"It's quite obvious I'm excited about this." I reached down and pulled her
cheeks apart so that my dick would push even farther into her butt crack.
"I'll bet that you're excited, too, but I wouldn't know unless I pulled
that towel away to see if your nipples are hard . . .  I'll bet they are .
. .  or if I stuck a finger in your pussy to see how wet you are . . .  and
I'll bet you're wet, aren't you?"

   I reached around with both hands and grabbed both boobs.  Even though
she was wearing a towel, I could feel that both nipples were erect.  "Now,
you get ready while I take a shower and we'll talk some more bout your tits
and pussy later tonight." With that statement, I release my hold on her
body, turned around, and walked straight into the shower.  It felt good to
assume some control over the situation and it also felt good that she
didn't reject the physical contact with me.

   I was so horny I wanted to immediately jack off when I got under the
warm water but I thought I should reserve all my male fluids for whatever
might happen later in the evening.  When I got out of the shower, Miss
Sarah was not in the bedroom.  I wasn't sure what to make of that but I
proceeded to get dressed.

   When I walked out into the living room, Miss Sarah was seated on the
sofa.  She was wearing a form fitting silky red sleeveless dress that was
long enough to cover her panties and a few inches of skin immediately south
of her panties, but it didn't cover much else.  If she had been a
skanky-looking girl, it might have looked like a slutty dress but, with her
youthful innocence, it just looked damned sexy and provocative.

   "Wow, you look like you're ready for a hot date tonight!" I said with
some emphasis.

   "I am," she immediately replied, ". . .  with you." Her smile was more
effective than any surgeon's knife; it immediately reached my heart and
began to melt me.

   We went to a moderately upscale New Orleans-style restaurant.  After a
while, I stopped noticing, but I think every man who saw Miss Sarah turned
to stare at her, followed by a jealous grin directed at me.  I certainly
felt like the king of the world on this particular evening in paradise.

   As we were waiting for a table, I leaned over to Miss Sarah and
whispered, "you look so incredible in that dress.  Every man in this
restaurant is wishing that he was going home with you tonight."

   "Well, that's too bad," she said, "because I'm going home with you." She
looked at me with her big eyes and smiled.  At that moment, she could have
asked me for my heart, lungs, and liver and I would have given them to her
in an instant.

   When we were seated, we were placed at a table that had bench seating on
one side and chairs on the opposite side of the table.  Miss Sarah asked if
we could sit on the bench seating and, of course, I agreed.  As soon as I
was seated, she moved closer so that her thigh was against my thigh and she
reached under my arm to rest her hand on the inside of my elbow.

   "I've never been here before and I'm a little nervous," she quietly said
to me.  "I don't want to do anything to embarrass you."

   "Oh, honey, even if you came in here on roller skates, I'd be the
proudest man in the room.  You've really turned into a woman." I meant
every word that I was said to her.

   "Can you help me with the menu?  And can we have a bottle of wine?" I
would do anything to make this little girl happy, so of course I agreed.

   The meal was wonderful, the first bottle of wine was good, and the
second bottle must have been even better, because Miss Sarah drank at least
four glasses.

   At the end of the meal, I stood and offered my hand to her to help her
up.  As she stood, she started to lose her balance but quickly recovered.
"I haven't had that much wine to drink before," she explained, but I had
already guessed as much.

   "It's okay, sweetie.  Just walk close to me, hang on to my arm, and
we'll be home soon." I may have had a terminal case of the hots for this
nubile young vixen but I also had paternally protective feelings as well.

   When we got home, Miss Sarah was still having a few problems with
walking.  Four glasses of wine shouldn't have had such a pronounced effect
on her but she was a very inexperienced drinker.  We got in the apartment
and into the bedroom.  She immediately laid down on the bed with her feet
hanging over the edge.

   "Sweetie, you can't go to sleep, yet," I said.  "You need to get out of
those clothes and get ready for bed."

   "Can you help me?" she asked.

   What kind of a question was this?  Let's see; would I be willing to
undress a young goddess so she could sleep in my bed tonight?  It wasn't
too difficult to answer her.

   "Sure," I replied.  I got her sitting up and reached behind her to
unfasten and unzip her dress.  "You've got to stand up for me to take it
off," I said.

   "You're the boss," she murmured.

   With some assistance, she stood up and I quickly had the dress down
around her ankles.  She was wearing panties and a bra but, fortunately, no
slip.  I reached behind her, unfastened the bra, and quickly removed it and
tossed it to the floor.  She was now covered by only her red bikini
panties.

   "Ron, I need to pee.  Can you help me to the bathroom?"

   She leaned on me and we walked into the bathroom.  She started to sit on
the toilet without pulling her panties down.

   "Hey, don't we need to pull your panties down first?" I asked.

   She smiled.  "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she asked rhetorically and
slightly slurred.  "Yeah, just take 'em off.  I usually sleep nude anyway."

   I pulled her panties down to her ankles and she sat down.  She lifted
her feet and I picked up her panties.  I looked at her panties in my hand
and then I looked straight into her eyes.

   "You can't imagine how fucking horny I am," I said as I lifted her
panties to my face and buried my nose in them.  The musky scent of her
delightful pussy was pungent and unmistakable and I realized that the
crotch of her panties were quite damp.

   "Why, Miss Sarah, did you pee in your pants before you got to the
bathroom?" I teased her.

   "Ron, I'm not a little girl anymore and I don't do such things.  If a
big girl's panties are damp, it usually means her pussy is wet because
she's horny."

   Hearing her say "panties" and "pussy" got me aroused even more.  "Why,
Miss Sarah, are you feeling horny tonight?" I continued in my teasing
voice.

   Miss Sarah wiggled her index finger to call me closer to her.  I got
close enough that I could feel her nipples against my chest as she
whispered, "I've been horny for you ever since that night in the tent."

   "Me, too," I whispered to her.  "This is a tough situation and I don't
know where we can go with it, but we have tonight," I said.  I pulled off a
piece of toilet paper, folded it, and very gently wiped her pussy lips. 
"Let's go to bed."

   "I thought you'd never ask," she replied.

   I led Miss Sarah back to the bed and pulled down the covers.  She laid
down while I quickly undressed.  When I pulled down my boxers, Miss Sarah
said, "wow!  That's quite a monster you have."

   "He's not a monster," I said in defense of the member.  "He's a
gentleman and he wants to please a lady."

   "He can please me, for sure, but, you'll be easy with me, won't you?"
she asked with apparently sincere concern.

   "Miss Sarah, are you . . .  a . . .  virgin?" I asked.

   "Yes," she said timidly, "but not much longer.  Ron, I want you to be
the one."

   I laid down and placed my lips against hers.  She immediately parted her
lips and began exploring my lips with her tongue.  I opened my lips and
soon we were exploring the beginnings of our passion.

   "I've wanted you for so long," I said with obvious longing in my voice.

   "And you don't know how many times I fantasized about you when I got off
with my vibrator," she responded.  The mental image of my little girl with
a vibrator in her pussy made my dick as hard as steel.

   I lifted my right hand and placed it on her left breast, grasping my
fingers firmly at the base of her breast and closing my grasp as I moved my
hand towards her nipple.  As I continued this, the first little moan
escaped from her lips.  I then grabbed her nipple between my thumb and
index finger and began kneading it.  Her nipple was incredibly firm and I
just had to have a nipple in my mouth.

   I pulled my head away from hers and leaned down so that I could take her
right nipple in my mouth.  As I did so, I began licking her nipple while
sucking it into my mouth and then releasing it, causing her nipple to
thrust in and out between my teeth.

   She gasped.  "Oh, fuck, that feels good," she declared.  "I want you in
me!"

   "Not yet, sweetie," I responded.  I released her nipple from my right
hand.  I slowly -- and very lightly -- dragged my fingertips down her chest
to her belly button, where I stopped to visit for a moment.  I then resumed
the tortuously slow travel southward.

   As my fingertips reached within 3 inches of her waiting pussy, I began
to flex my hand so that my fingers spread out and then drew back in.  As my
fingers drew closer together, I lessened the pressure on her skin so that
it felt like she was being caressed with feathers.

   "Do you want me to put my fingers in your pussy?" I asked.  Of course I
knew that was what she wanted.

   "Oh, yes!" she insisted.

   "Them tell me what you want.  Don't just say yes or no.  Tell me what
you want me to do to you."

   "I want to feel your fingers inside my pussy right now, Ron."

   I eagerly complied, parting her pussy lips and entering her with my
middle and fourth fingers.

   "You're so wet, Sarah!  I know you're gonna cum soon."

   My hand was turned with the palm facing up.  I began making that "come
here" motion with my fingers.  This always seem to find the g-spot and
tonight was no exception.

   "Oh, gawd, Ron, that's so damn good.  Don't stop," she told me.  I had
no intentions of stopping.

   "Ooh, ooh, ahh, that's . . .  so . . .good!" she uttered and then she
started moaning.  I have heard quite a few women moan during sex.  Miss
Sarah was one of the more vociferous moaners I have ever encountered, much
to my delight.  Her moans were loud and frequent and I knew she would soon
be cumming.

   I bent down so that my mouth was on her abdomen just inches from her
pussy.  I wrapped my left hand around her leg and reached up to find her
clit.  I used my index and third fingers to play the fiddle in the middle.
I alternated between stroking up and down on both sides of her clit and
using my index finger to trace light circles around the little button.

   With this type of ministration on her cunt, she was very quickly
cumming. "Oh, gawd, Ron, my pussy feels . . .  so . . .  oh, gawd, don't
stop, I'm cumming." Her body alternated between waves of absolute muscular
tension and relaxation.  Her thighs pressed inward tightly and her moans
continued in undiminished paroxysms.  Her breathing was rapid and shallow.
Her right hand had latched onto the hair on my head and I had to pry her
fingers away for fear that she would pull my hair out.  I had stopped
stimulating her g-spot and clit but resumed for just a few seconds before I
withdrew my fingers from her sweet snatch.  This elicited a few moans of
renewed passion before I stopped.

   "Honey, catch your breath, because I'm gonna stick my tongue in your
pussy in just a minute and then you're gonna cum even harder than before."

   "Oh, fuck," was all she could manage to say.

   "We'll get around to that, too," I replied.  The night was still young.

   I turned around in bed so that I could comfortably access Miss Sarah's
sweet snatch.  I rested my head on the inside of her right thigh and stared
at her shaved pussy.  "You have the cutest little pussy that I've ever
seen," I said.  "Does it taste as sweet as it looks?"

   "I don't know, I'm a virgin, but I did have oral sex a few times and the
guys never said anything bad about it," she said.

   "I'm sure those lucky rascals never complained, sweetie," I replied. 
"Did you ever have an orgasm from the oral sex?"

   "No, it was only like three times, and, we were doing that 69 thing each
time.  The guys came so fast and then they stopped, like, they got what
they wanted so why should they continue.  It really wasn't all that
wonderful compared to how other girls talk about getting their pussies
eaten out."

   "Well, that's the problem with younger guys.  Their just into
themselves. But tonight, you're gonna cum when my tongue gets on your
clit."

   "Promises, promises," Miss Sarah said, almost as if daring me to launch
in.

   So I did.

   As soon as those words left her lips, I leaned forward and my lips made
contact with Miss Sarah's pussy lips.  They were very cleanly shaven, no
stubble, as if she had prepared for this evening.  And I was glad that she
had.  I pushed my tongue into her slit and moved from the top to the bottom
of her cunt.  She tasted like perspiration that had been sweetened with
just enough honey to give it a suggestion of sweetness.  She was wet.  I
could taste her wetness.  I could feel her wetness with my tongue.  I could
smell her odor.  And it all made my dick want to get fucked now.

   But I needed to make Miss Sarah cum with my tongue.  I brought my tongue
up to her clit and pressed on it gently.  Then I began swirling my tongue
in circles around her button of delight.  Meanwhile, I returned my middle
and fourth fingers to their previous position, stimulating the g-spot, but
I also began thrusting my fingers in and out of her slippery woman hole.

   Meanwhile, I found her clit with my lips and sucked on it so that it was
pulled between my teeth.  I began sucking and releasing, sucking and
releasing, so that her clit was thrusting between my teeth.

   Miss Sarah's moans had grown louder and longer.  "Oh . . .  fuck me . .
. Ron . . .  I wanna cum . . .  with your tongue . . .  in my pussy." When
I heard these words, I knew it was time to make the final assault on the
citadel of her composure.  It was time to release the hounds of raw animal
passion and fiery hormones pulsing through the veins of a beast.

   I wrapped my left hand around Miss Sarah's ass and began stroking up and
down her ass crack while thrusting the fingers of my other hand in and out
of her pussy and fucking her clit with my lips.

   "Oh . . .  honey . . .  that's so damn . . .  nasty . . .  Oh, fuck, I'm
cumming!" As she said that her thighs squeezed together, pressing on my
skull, holding my head firmly in place so that I could continue to suck her
clit between my lips.  My left index finger found Miss Sarah's puckered
little back door and I pushed in so that my finger was buried up to the
first knuckle.  As soon as I penetrated her rear hole, her body went as
stiff as a 2 x 4 and her breathing became very rapid and shallow.

   "Don't stop!" she commanded, and then she began screaming as if she was
in pain, but I knew it was the pain that hurts so good.

   "No, no, okay, stop now!" she said.  Obviously, she had been wracked by
a tremendous orgasm and she now had a very heightened sensitivity in her
clit.  I stopped licking and slowly stopped thrusting my fingers in her
pussy.  I left my finger in her ass and just pressed slightly to the side
as her orgasm began to subside and that little motion immediately
translated into a gasp and slightly louder moan.

   I withdrew my fingers from her pussy and ass and turned back around in
bed so that I was face-to-face with Miss Sarah.

   "Did you enjoy your orgasm, Miss Sarah?" I politely inquired.

   "Oh, fuck, I've never cum so fucking hard in my entire life!" I could
hear the appreciation in her voice.

   "Miss Sarah, that is the way an orgasm is supposed to be.  They're not
always that strong, but you should have one every time you have sex."

   "Oh, I know I'll have one very time I have sex with you," she said.  The
promise of more sex always gets a man's interest.

   "Now, it's time, Miss Sarah," I said as I got on top of her.  "You're so
wet I know we don't need anything to help me slide into you."

   "Don't worry about hurting me.  I lost my cherry when I was 14, trying
to get off with a long candle.  So just fuck me and make it hard."

   "Okay.  You reach down between us and guide my dick into you.  That's a
whole lot easier for you to do than for me."

   She immediately responded, grabbed my dick with her right hand and
placed it at the entrance to her waiting pussy.  "Stick it in me now," she
said.

   I needed no further encouragement.  I was right, she was so wet, I
immediately slid in.  Miss Sarah had the tightest pussy I had ever fucked.
It felt like a hand covered with warm velvet, as wet as a mouth, squeezing
my dick as tight as it could without forcing me to retreat.

   I knew that Sarah had cum so hard that it wouldn't take much for her to
reach her next orgasm, so I didn't bother with starting slow.  I reached
out and grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the bed.  "You wanna be fucked
hard, I'll give it to you hard!"

   I began pushing my dick into her sweet cunt just as fast and hard as I
possibly could.  As soon as I was fully emerged in her pussy, I withdrew
for my next thrust.  I was moaning and breathing heavily, obviously working
at fucking this pussy like it was the last pussy I would ever get.

   Within three thrusts, Miss Sarah was panting like a dog, moaning like a
whore in heat.  "Fuck me, Ron.  Fuck me hard.  Oh, fuck, Oh, fuck.  Cum in
my pussy.  I want your cum in my pussy."

   It didn't take much of that talk from my sweet goddess to put me over
the edge.  "I'm gonna cum.  I'm gonna cum in your pussy, oh . . .  here it
is!"

   As my dick began pumping my cum into Miss Sarah, she began cumming,
moaning in unison with each jet of cum that filled her tight pussy.  She
had her arms around me and she was holding on tight.  I felt her hard
nipples rubbing across my chest and . . .  I was one satisfied fucker.

   When I finished pouring my seed into her sweet female garden, I began
kissing her cheeks, nibbling on her ear lobe, and whispering in her ear.

   "I've never felt anything that wonderful in my entire life," I said
quietly.  "You're the lover every man dreams of having.  Your passion . . .
and cumming in your pussy is a dream come true.  I just hope it was as good
as you expected it to be."

   "Ron," Miss Sarah said softly, "I want to spend every night of the rest
of my life in your bed." And with that, she kissed me softly and tenderly
on the lips.  "I love you, Ron."

   "I love you, too, sweetie," I replied.

   I got off of her and laid on my back next to her.  She rolled over on
her side, facing me, laid her head on my shoulder, draped her left leg over
mine, and was sleeping soundly within fifteen seconds.

   "I love you, too, sweetie," I said to no one other than myself.  "We'll
just have to find a way to make it happen."

   I closed my eyes and, in the ten or so seconds that it took before I was
asleep, I knew that I was the most contented man on the planet.  And then
sleep came over me and I slept soundly, because my desires had been
completely satisfied.  In every way that a woman could please a man, this
young goddess had satisfied me.

   TO BE CONTINUED...
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