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Subject: Repost by req.: 'Brenda-a Love story'- all parts (M/f f/f)
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Subject: BOMBADIL: "Brenda - A Love Story" 1/9
From: S THOMAS BUSH <stbush@iglou.com>
Date: 14 Apr 1997 19:09:44 GMT
--------
Brenda - A Love Story [ M/f f/f ]
by Tom Bombadil (c) Aug 1996
Chapter 1 of 9
Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended
by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is
illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are
under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you
might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this
text from your computer.
This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions
described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of
fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or
actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in
my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or
relatives.
You've been warned.
This story was originally titled "Brenda's Conquest", and was retitled
after revision by the author.
In this chapter - History, first meeting, babysitting,
starting her conquest
**********************************************************************
< Well, I think I know what heaven is like. It can't be any better
than what I have right here, right now. Yes, being 25, I was supposed
to know better, and if anyone had found out, I'd be in jail, or worse,
but there's no way I could have prevented it. I was in love with her,
she said she was in love with me, and, knowing me better than I knew
myself, she took me. That's the only way to describe it. Not that
I'm complaining, you understand, it's just that I had very little say
in the matter.
To understand what happened, I guess I'll have to start at the
beginning. My name is Richard Tyler and I come from a smallish town
in the midwest. I have two younger sisters and a pair of rather
staid, very middle-class parents. Looking back, I can see that my
life was boringly typical and, other than a few incidents, uneventful
until I got to college.
I graduated from high school as normal, got good enough marks to be
accepted into the local U., and went there to study business for a
year. That's when the itch started. I had a steady stream of
girlfriends since I was sixteen, so I thought I knew everything there
was to know. That is, until I met a student from Melbourne here to
study local husbandry and ranching practices. This is not the girl I
fell in love with, but she taught me an awful lot about the world,
especially the world of sex, life, and adventure.
To give you an example, when we first met, I used my best line on her,
one guaranteed to work on most ladies. (I'm 6'2" of long, lean
muscle, and 'a good lookin hunk' according to the friends of both my
sisters). Her response? "Hey, a hayseed. A real one. I've never
met one before. You're not too bad looking either." What can I come
back with after a shot like that? With that accent of hers, it didn't
even sound like an insult. I just smiled and said "Ya got me pegged
right first shot, little lady." I learned more from her in that
first two weeks than I had from all my previous girlfriends put
together.
Besides great, and I mean *great* sex (hey, I was a hayseed from a
small mid-west town - missionary was almost all I knew) she dragged me
to plays, operas, musicals, jazz festivals, restaurants, taught me to
like seafood and real chinese, made me read some of her favourite
fantasy books (first I'd ever heard of some writer named McCaffrey)
and really opened my eyes about the world outside of my home. We both
still managed to get decent grades. It was the second-best time of my
life (the best before now).
She went back home after six months, leaving me to my humdrum world,
one I had to get out of. It was with a lot of effort, work, pleading,
and downright stubbornness that I finally got my way. The deal was,
if I finished two years of college here, with a 3.75 gpa or better, I
could take a year off and go anywhere I wanted, then go to the college
of my choice. Let me tell you, I almost gave up on dating and the
local girls, just going out enough to satisfy my basic urges, and
concentrated on the books and my workouts (have to maintain my
physique).
Well, I did it, barely, and spent that year working my way through New
Zealand, Australia, the Philippines, and most of the far east. By the
time I got back, all the hayseeds were out of my teeth, believe me.
That, my friends, was an education. I came back with most of my
middle-class attitudes and prejudices, well, 'adjusted', you could
call it. That probably contributed in no small way to my current
situation.
Now it was back to work, or rather school, and a part-time job. I
chose San Diego because it reminded me most of the best parts of
Australia, which I'd fallen in love with. I had a job waiting for me
too, through one of my old Prof's, working with some computer jockeys
who needed help putting together business packages. It was decent
pay, the job wasn't too tough, and the hours were very flexible.
College was tougher, since I switched from business to graphic arts,
and had to start over again. My folks just rolled their eyes at me
and said to go for it, as long as I would damned well finish this
time.
Well, now knowing what I liked, I spent a long time finding just the
right place to stay. With my job and a little help from home, I found
it - a beach house I could afford. A two story two bedroom shack
overlooking a rocky shoreline with a sand beach not more than fifteen
minutes walk away, in a quiet suburbia type of place. So what if it
was old. Everybody back home was jealous. It was also the most
important choice I ever made in my life, even though I didn't know it
then.
Between college and work, I didn't have a lot of free time, and, being
new, didn't know anybody to start off with. I did date occasionally,
but only out of necessity. There was too much to do right here and
now to find a bunch of new friends. So, I basically got adopted by my
neighbors.
They were a youngish couple, Mary was 28 and Will was 35, just
building up a new computer publishing business, and were starting to
become financially comfortable (middle class). She had some money
from an aunt someplace and they used it to buy and build their home on
the beach. It was far nicer than the glorified shack I lived in. Oh
yeah, the most important bit, they had two kids, Brenda and Vicky,
aged 9 and 7 respectively.
Mary was a plumping middle-aged mom who looked like she was great a
few years ago, but had let herself go a bit after the kids came
along. Red hair, green eyes, nice features, generous curves, but a
bit too heavy for my tastes. I found out later she'd put on the
weight after having to take some hormone pills for a while. It was
to my delight and constant frustration to see her slim back down over
the next two years, regaining her wonderful figure.
Will was seven years older than Mary, and they'd gotten married
shortly after she graduated from high school. He's a fit and trim
5'11" with sandy hair and hazel eyes and also looks good.
Their kids were wonderful - precocious, energetic, playful and smart.
They took after their parents. Just more so, as I found out later.
Enough introduction. Let me tell you about the first step on this
road I find myself on ... >
**********************************************************************
It was three days after moving into the beachhouse, late afternoon,
and I was sitting on the back porch soaking up some sun, enjoying a
nice cool glass of lemonade (the beer was still warm and I was
thirsty). Lying back on the lounger, eyes mostly closed, half asleep,
zonked from moving, work, and school, I was rather startled to hear a
voice coming from not far in front of me.
"Can I have some lemonade too, please?"
I opened my eyes to see this skinny little nine year old girl in a
bikini sitting on the railing of my balcony. Being the suave,
debonair world traveller that I am, I immediately grasped the
situation and came out with some witty comments. Yeah, right. I was
brain-fogged.
I looked at her and said "Who are you?"
"I'm Brenda."
"Oh."
After looking at each other for a few seconds, hoping my mind would
start working, she spoke again.
"You're new here. I'm your next door neighbour. Hi. I'm thirsty.
Could I have some lemonade please?"
It started to percolate through that this wasn't some sort of weird
dream. I was awake, and there was a little kid in front of me. Like
I said, brain-fogged.
"Uh, you live next door? Where's your folks?"
"Dad's working, and my mom and sister are at the beach. They won't be
back for a while yet. I can't get in the house 'cause mom has the
keys, and I'm thirsty."
"Oh. Right. Lemonade. Okay."
Well, like I said, I wasn't thinking too clearly, so I got up and went
into the kitchen to get her a glass. It was more of a surprise when I
turned around and found that she's followed me into the house. I
gave her the glass and ushered her back outside.
"You know, your folks wouldn't like it if they knew you were walking
into strange people's houses."
She looked at me real hard for a second. I felt like a bug under a
microscope.
"Why?"
I was finally waking up. I still couldn't come up with any kind of a
reply to this.
"'Cause you might take advantage of me?"
"Uh, well ..." More great conversation. This 9 year old had me
flummoxed.
"You wouldn't. You aren't the kinda guy who'd hurt kids like me. Mom
said so."
"Really? And how does your mom know that?"
She just sipped her drink and smiled at me a bit. She didn't answer
my question, just asked me another one of hers. This was getting
strange.
"Well, would you ever hurt me?"
Thinking carefully for a moment, I chose my words for a change.
"No, I guess your Mom is right. I don't hurt people, especially
children."
"Good. Mom said I could invite you for lunch tomorrow. What's your
name?"
"Richard. Lunch?"
"Rich or Richard?"
"Richard."
"Lunch tomorrow. If you're not busy."
Tomorrow was Saturday - no work, no school. I'd planned on either
unpacking everything or vegging out on the porch all day. Guess which
it would have been. She was eyeing me, waiting for an answer.
"Uh, I think I'd better hear that from your Mom before I say yes."
"Good! You'll come. Can I use your bathroom? I need to go pee."
"I guess. It's right beside the kitchen." She was off into the house
before I stood up. By the time I got to the door, she was in the
bathroom and had closed the door. Shaking my head, I sat back down to
wait. Ten minutes later I was getting a little worried, and was just
about to get up and check on my 'guest' when someone called for my
attention. A lady in her late twenties and a little girl were walking
up the path to my place.
"Hello. Have you seen Brenda? She said she'd be here."
Oh shit. "You must be her Mom."
"Yes. So she has been here."
"Hi Mom!" Brenda came out onto the porch, re-tying her bikini bottom.
It was an embarrassing scene. I knew nothing had happened, but the
implication that something might have been going on was there. I was
blushing.
"Hi dear."
Now for the really embarrassing part. She came up behind me and gave
me a big hug around the neck and a kiss on the cheek.
"Look what I found! Can I keep him?"
"Of course you may, if he doesn't object. But you'd better let go for
now, you're embarrassing the poor gentleman. Besides, you need to
introduce us."
"Okay. Mom, this is Richard. Richard, this is Mary, my Mom, and
Vicky, my sister."
Hello's were exchanged. Mine were a bit strangled because she hadn't
let go of my neck.
"So, is he coming for lunch tomorrow?" Mary was speaking to Brenda,
over my head, as though I weren't there.
"I think so. I think he's a bit shy though. He says he needs your
okay first."
"Tell him I said it's fine. Make sure he dresses properly, Grandma
will be there. See you in a while. Bye Richard."
She and the younger one, the seven year old, walked on up the path to
their place, leaving Brenda alone with me. Now, as far as I know,
this isn't normally what you'd expect from a mother or her daughter.
It certainly wasn't where I grew up, and I doubted it was normal even
here in California.
"Erg, could you let go, please? It's a little hard to breathe."
She let go and sat back up on the porch railing.
"So it's okay now. You're coming for lunch tomorrow. Mom says you
hafta dress nice, so wear long pants, good shoes, and a nice shirt.
No jeans. Come over at eleven. See ya!"
She jumped and ran, not waiting for any kind of answer. Not that I
had one, or could thing of any questions or objections either. This
is what the term 'railroaded' was invented to describe. They'd hit
me when I wasn't ready, kept me off balance, and had me where they
wanted me before I knew what was happening. This I figured out
later. At the time, I was just too stunned.
Guess where I ended up for lunch the next day.
**********************************************************************
< That was the start of it. I don't remember much about that lunch,
except for two things. Brenda treated me like her date, leading me by
the hand for introductions and a tour of the place, sitting beside me
during lunch, and walking me home afterwards. Somehow they also
talked me into having dinner there the following Saturday. >
< For the next few years, things went a little smoother. I guess
Brenda and her mom had a talk or something, or maybe she realized how
much she was embarrassing me, because she was rarely as forward as she
was those first two days. I was a frequent visitor over at their
place, either for lunch, dinner, cards, or just to socialize,
sometimes a half-dozen times a month. >
< Both kids were frequent visitors at my place as well, popping over
whenever they saw my back door open. I learned to close it whenever I
was going in for a shower or was changing, because they'd walk right
in without knocking. It scared the hell out of me the first time I
walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a small towel and saw
two faces grinning and staring at me over the back of the couch. >
< When I talked to Mary about it, nervous as hell and blushing, of
course, her answer was, to say the least, not what I expected. >
< "Richard, it's your house, so you make the rules. You can kick
them out if you like, or tell them not to come over, but I will not
tell them how to behave over there. That's up to you. As long as you
never hurt them, I'll be okay with whatever happens. They both like
you a lot and they both trust you, as do we." >
< Talk about ambiguous and open-ended. >
< Sometimes, when they couldn't get a sitter, Mary and Will would
leave the girls in my care overnight. This happened regularly,
usually once or twice a month, starting that fall. I'll tell you
about the first couple of times. It'll show you how they were slowly
wearing down my resistance, or scruples, or morals, or something.
Anyway ... >
**********************************************************************
The first time I babysat for the two girls was about three months
after I moved into the beachhouse. It was November, the weather was
unusually chilly with lots of wind, and my place was full of cold
drafts. Like I said before, the place is an old shack.
I guess it's about time I described these two 'little' girls for you,
before I carry on. It'll help you understand a bit better. Both
girls were young, still kids, showing no female development
whatsoever. They were skinny, with long legs, long arms, long necks,
nice tans, and both showed the potential for true beauty later in
life. Their eyes were a deep green, just like their mothers'.
Vicky (Victoria) is the younger of the pair by almost exactly two
years. Her birthday is at the end of March, her sister's is at the
beginning. She was then seven years old, about 4'8" tall (really tall
for her age, probably end up around 6'). Her hair was long, halfway
down her back, naturally wavy, and a rich, deep brown color. This was
the lady of the pair, usually prim and proper, dressed nicely, rarely
dirty or dishevelled. Behind the outer shell, though, was a daring
and mischievous mind, always looking for something new or interesting.
Brenda was the same height as her sister, despite the two years head
start, and would soon be passed. She was nine, and had the most
gorgeous head of strawberry blonde hair I've ever seen. It was cut
short, barely shoulder length, and was just as wavy as her sister's.
This one was the tomboy. Almost nothing stopped her from doing
whatever she wanted whenever she wanted to. The main difference
between her and her sister was that she didn't hide any of her daring
or impish curiosity behind a mask. It was all in the open. She had
both a temper and an extreme stubborn streak. Get her mad at you for
something and she'd stay mad for a week.
Did I mention before that they were both highly intelligent,
precocious, daring, fearless, and had a set of morals that were mostly
alien to mine? More on that later - for now, back to babysitting.
I wasn't too nervous about this because they were at my place a lot
anyway. Since that first day, I had always treated both of them like
small adults, talking with them rather than at them, never ignoring
them, and always listening and being fair. It showed, because they
also treated me fairly, as an adult and an equal. They were still
kids, though, and respected my knowledge and authority. Usually.
Mary dropped them off at three, giving me some emergency numbers and
last minute instructions on bedtimes. Being Saturday, these were
flexible. They expected to be back the following afternoon. The
girls had their backpacks, nighties, a change of clothes each, and
some toys, games, and books to keep them amused. Oh, if you're
wondering, this wasn't a paid thing. It was a favour for friends.
We watched a little TV, played a little, Brenda wrestled with me on
the couch (I lost), then had dinner. Corn on the cob, 'burgers, and
salad made a good meal, I thought. Jello for the girls for dessert.
Later in the evening, after some TV, they wanted me to read them some
more out of their latest book. It was something they'd started me on
early. About once a week, we'd sit together on the couch and I would
read them a chapter or two. They thought it was great, and I didn't
mind. It was fun having them around for company. And besides, it was
expanding my mind and my vocabulary.
Now, if I haven't mentioned it before (yeah, right, a dozen times
already), these girls were intelligent and precocious. Books, to
them, meant one thing - great stories and tales of adventure, magic,
and mayhem. You're thinking sleeping beauty, little red riding hood,
beauty and the beast. Not for these two. Lord of the Rings, Beowulf,
The Iliad, Drangonriders, The Malloreon, Discworld, this was the kids'
reading material. Their favorite authors were (and still are)
Aspirin, Hawke, and Pratchett. At that age, I hadn't even started
reading Enid Blyton.
I let them stay up a little later than their normal, then sent them
to bed. They were supposed to sleep in my spare bedroom. That lasted
until five minutes after I got to bed.
"It's cold." "I'm scared!" "I'm lonely." "I miss Mom and Dad."
"Can we sleep with you?" "Mom and Dad let us." "This house makes
funny noises." "Why is it so dark in here?"
You get the idea. I didn't think their parents would really
appreciate me sleeping with the two girls. Call it a bit of
prudishness on my part, but even if nothing happened, and nothing
would, just the thought of sleeping with them made me nervous. I sent
them back to their own bed. About a half-hour later I was awake
again, a thump in the hall bringing me to full alert status.
Burglars? Nah, had to be the girls. I pulled on my sweats and went
to find out.
Vicky was sitting in the hall, a blanket wrapped around her, leaning
against the wall. "I'm scared."
"Where's your sister?"
"Downstairs"
"All right you, back to bed."
"I can't sleep in there. It's too scary."
I left her there and went to find her sister. She was downstairs,
sitting in a chair, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the TV. The
sound was turned off so I wouldn't hear it.
"Well? Why aren't you in bed?"
"It's too cold and lonely. Vicky won't stay in there, so I came down
here."
I knew what was happening, of course, and so did the girls.
"Brenda, what would your mother say if she found out you ended up in
my bed?"
"Nothing. She would be mad if she knew you made us sleep by ourselves
when we're cold, lonely and scared, though."
Sighing, exasperated, knowing I'd already lost this one, I gave in.
She was probably right about her mother, too. "All right, I give up.
You win." She was running up the stairs before I finished talking.
I ended up with one girl curled up in either arm, covers pulled up to
our chins. I'm really glad their mother makes them wear full nighties
to bed. I left my sweat pants on.
Waking up with the two girls in my bed was an adventure in
embarrassment. They were still in my arms, Vicky facing me with her
head on my chest, one hand on my stomach, with my arm around her waist
and my hand resting on her hip. Brenda was facing away from me, butt
pushed into my thigh, with my other arm wrapped around her and that
hand being held by her on her chest. I could feel one of her nipples
pressing into my palm.
They were both still asleep, so I tried to slither out of there. All
this did was make things worse. When I tried to move my hand off
Brenda's chest, she grabbed it tighter, with both hands, and pulled me
back. I moved my hand off Vicky's hip and onto her waist. This made
her wiggle around, and she ended up with one leg over top of mine and
her crotch pressing into my hip. All I could do was lie back and try
to sleep. These warm bodies did feel nice, though, even being kids.
I did doze off again, and woke up when the girls started squirming.
"Just getting comfy" was the only muttered response I got when I asked
if they were awake. Yeah, getting comfy with my legs, arms, chest and
stomach. Hands and legs everywhere before they settled down to sleep
again. I was quickly getting used to this, though, and again nodded
off.
When the two of them finally woke up for real, I received a peck on
the cheek from each, a thank you, and a good morning. The rest of the
day was more normal.
A few days later, when I talked to Mary about what happened, her
response was again a surprise. Not as big as the last one, because I
was starting to know her, but still a surprise.
"Yes, I know. Did anything happen? Did you hurt either of them?
Were they unhappy? No? Then what's the problem? Like I said before,
it's your place. You control what happens over there. If you let
them sleep with you, fine. It was their choice too, remember."
Needless to say, next time I babysat, the two of them didn't even make
a pretense of going into the spare room. They waltzed up the stairs
and dropped their packs in my room, cool as anything.
**********************************************************************
< Somehow the years did slip by. For birthdays and Christmas I'd give
them things that would be special for them, rather than the usual
t-shirts or CD's or stuff like that. I gave Vicky a signed copy of
Neuromancer for her tenth birthday. She showed it off to everybody
for months. For Brenda's eleventh, I gave her a framed print of
Michael Whelan's White Dragon. It's been hanging in her room ever
since. Hey, I'd never heard of this stuff before, but it made the
girls very happy. >
< I didn't neglect things on the home front, either. I made regular
visits or calls home to talk with and gossip about family and friends.
The folks were fine, and my sisters were doing okay. I tried hard to
keep in touch with Caitlin, my baby sis, because I was always the one
she'd turn to for help or comfort when I was home. I did miss her. >
< By the time I was ready to graduate, my neighbours seemed more like
family to me than my own folks. Once I had my degree, and finished
some post-grad courses I wanted to take, it would be time to move on
in my life - start a career, get a social life again, find a good
woman, etcetera etcetera. Maybe it was my vague ramblings on doing
these things that made her strike earlier than she'd planned, suddenly
realizing that I wouldn't be there forever. She hasn't told me the
full truth yet, and may never tell me. >
< She started in on me just after finals were finished ... >
**********************************************************************
I got back from work early on a Friday, putting in extra time now that
my school workload was slowing down. It was now late April, so
the weather was turning nice, and this had turned into a gorgeous
sunny day. I changed into shorts and a t-shirt, grabbed a soda, and
went to the back porch to stretch out and relax a bit.
Brenda was already there, sitting in a lounger, knees tucked under her
chin, arms wrapped around her calves. She was staring out over the
ocean. I could tell she'd been crying.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothin'"
"Riiiiiight. I'll be sitting here when you're ready to talk." I'd
seen this too often to try and push her. Let her come to me if and
when she was ready to unburden herself. If she didn't want to talk to
me, she wouldn't be here. It did take a while. I was working on my
second cola before she spoke up.
"Richard, when you're finished school, you're gonna move away, aren't
you?"
All right, what gives? It's not the usual school/sister/boyfriend
problem that I'm used to. At least, not the kind I was used to when
dealing with my sister.
"Probably. I'll be starting a new job somewhere, maybe in another
city. Don't worry, I won't forget you. You're like family to me."
She sat there for a while longer, staring at the sea.
"No, I didn't think you'd understand."
Before I could respond, she got up, walked over, and kissed me - a
full French kiss right on the lips. Now THAT got my attention. She
kissed good for a kid. Hell, that was a good kiss from anyone.
Without another word, she walked off the porch and over to her place.
I watched her go, staring at her, too surprised to say anything.
I guess I should describe her again, both for your sake and mine.
That kiss was a sort-of revelation for me, making me take a good
look. She was no longer a little girl at thirteen years of age. Now
she was a young lady, with many of her womanly charms developing.
There was a definite figure there now, with nice breasts, slim waist,
noticeable hips, nicely rounded ass, tapering thighs, and legs that
went on into next week. Her hair was still that rich strawberry
blonde, a little darker now at the start of spring, and her eyes were
the same luminous green, large and expressive. The rest had developed
from little-girl to young-woman, including a wide, full-lipped,
expressive mouth. I now knew from first-hand experience how soft and
tender those lips were, too.
She wasn't a kid anymore. She was a beautiful young lady. I hadn't
paid attention to the changes, even when babysitting. I'd gotten so
used to having them sleep with me when they were over, I never noticed
the extra padding on the chest, the graceful curves, the rounding of
her bottom. Not even when my hand was holding her breast, as I then
remembered from the previous week. They still slept the same way when
with me, Vicky in one arm, facing me, with my arm wrapped around her
and my hand on her hip, and Brenda facing away from me, holding my
hand to her chest.
Am I a prime idiot, or what. Is there any other male out there who
wouldn't have noticed holding on to a beautifully shaped breast on a
very pretty thirteen year old?
Thinking about it, Vicky wasn't a little kid either. She was two
years behind Brenda in age, but not nearly that far behind in
development. A bikini now had something to hide, or show off if you
will. Her breasts were thickening pads behind her nipples, waist
becoming defined, baby fat disappearing, hips widening, bottom
starting to round out. She was now about 5'3", while her sister was
5'2".
I wasn't going to be sleeping with them while babysitting anymore, I
decided. That decision turned out to be academic anyway.
She was back again the next morning, around ten. No hello, no knock,
just suddenly there on the porch, staring out over the ocean. Now, I
know I'm not the greatest conversationalist in the world, but usually
when you say 'hello' you get some sort of response. Not that day.
Time to wait it out again. I carried on, doing a little housework,
some light reading, and writing up notes for work.
I made lunch for two, and we ate it in silence on the porch.
In the afternoon, Vicky came over for a while. She was her usual
cheerful self despite Brenda's mood. I took her into the kitchen and
asked what was wrong with her sister. Her answer? "You, silly!"
When I pressed her on this, wanting to get some real answers, she just
shut up or played dumb.
Vicky went home for dinner, but Brenda stayed on the porch. I made
dinner for two, and we ate that in silence as well.
Time to ask her mom for help. I found Mary in her kitchen, cleaning
up after their dinner. Giving a hand, I asked what was wrong with her
daughter.
"Brenda? Nothing is wrong with her at all. It's her boyfriend that
has the problem."
"Boyfriend?" That was news to me. I didn't know she had a boyfriend.
Neither the girls nor their parents had mentioned anything about a
boyfriend.
"Yes. She's been seeing him for a while, but he seems totally
uninterested. It's very frustrating for her. She's got something up
her sleeve, though, so I'd be careful around her for a while."
She had a boyfriend. Brenda had a boyfriend. One that I didn't know
about. Someone stupid enough not to be interested in her. Why did
that news get me so, well, mad and jealous?
There was no sign of her at my place. I imagined her going to see her
boyfriend. It took me a long time to get to sleep that night,
wondering about Brenda and her boyfriend, and what they did together.
Sunday morning she was there again, sitting in the back. This time
Brenda was wearing a Bikini and sunning herself. I thought it was
better than her just being wrapped up in a ball like the last couple
of days. Communication lines were still down, even when I asked if
she wanted to talk about her boyfriend. It was starting to worry me.
Believe it or not, I did care a lot about this young lady. It hurt me
seeing her like that, especially since it seemed she was taking out
her social problems on me.
Being ignored was starting to get to me too, even though I tried not
to show it.
I carried on with my chores and work, occasionally going out to sit
with her for a few minutes. After my revelations the other day about
her growing up, it was impossible to ignore her in that bikini,
especially when she was on her stomach with that ass of hers exposed
to view (guess what my favorite bit of female anatomy is). Each time
I came back in, I had to adjust my cock into a more comfortable
position. It's bloody awful when someone you've basically regarded as
asexual (I don't fancy kids as sexual, personally) suddenly turns into
a cock-hardening piece of jailbait without you noticing. She IS
supposed to be like a sister or a cousin or something, right?
Lunch for two was again silent.
Later in the afternoon, it started clouding over and getting chilly.
She showed no sign of moving, and it was obvious that she was getting
cold. Well, I'm the one that's supposed to know better, so I brought
her inside, wrapped her in a quilt, sat her on the couch, and made her
some cocoa. No verbal response, but I did get a smile. That was
something I hadn't seen for days and it made me feel a lot better.
Vicky came over after supper (I cooked for two again, if you hadn't
guessed) hoping for a reading session. Sure, why not.
I fetched drinks - soda's for the girls and beer for me - picked up
their book, and relaxed into my recliner. Readings generally lasted a
half hour to an hour, depending on moods and the storyline. Two
minutes into things, Brenda got off the couch and crawled up into my
lap, quilt and all. The only two words I got from her for three days
were "I'm cold".
Well, I wasn't very successful at not getting erect with that girl's
bottom in my lap and her breasts resting on my chest. There's no way
she could miss it, since it was running along her ass-crack, but she
didn't move, say anything, or even blink. I could feel her nipples
through her bikini and my shirt. She certainly didn't feel cold. Her
head was resting, quite comfortably I might add, on my left shoulder
just below my jaw line. Don't get me wrong, I did enjoy the feel of
her body, it was just my scruples getting in the way. This was still
a thirteen year old woman-child in my lap, despite what my body and my
lewd imagination were saying. Somehow my emotions were also
conspiring against me. Her little sigh of contentment left me flushed
with a warm all-over glow.
After the reading was over, the two of them headed home. One thing
she left me with, something which really confused me, was a big, warm,
wet, kiss, just as she was getting up to go. Speechless, I watched
that bikini-clad bottom of hers walk out the door and down the path.
Emotions and feelings I didn't know I had came out. Sadness at seeing
her leave, loneliness when she disappeared, and some jealousy and
anger over her boyfriend. I thought that if I ever met that jackass,
I'd straighten him out. Damned idiot, ignoring a girl - no, a woman,
like Brenda. Dipstick didn't know a good thing when he saw it.
The other thing she left me with was a raging hard-on, the one that
she'd been sitting on for the last hour. I wonder if she had any idea
how bad off she left me.
Monday I had no classes and no work, so I did shopping, laundry,
housework, yard maintenance, studying, and some design work. She
showed up at four, curling up on the couch under the quilt, staring
out the window. It was a change - she was in the house. It was still
chilly out there. Dinner for two and an evening of TV. She went home
at eight.
Tuesday I had classes and an afternoon of work, returning home after
seven. She was on the porch, shivering. I asked if she'd eaten, and
she shook her head no. I carried her inside, wrapped her up, gave her
some cocoa, cooked her dinner (I'd already eaten), then asked what the
hell she was doing. No answer. What a surprise. I sent her home.
Wednesday I had work in the morning and early afternoon. This time
I made sure I was home before four. She showed up right on time
again. Same spot on the couch, dinner for two, some TV, and back home
at eight.
Thursday she was there at four, once again punctual. I went over to
talk to Mary about her daughter, leaving Brenda alone.
"She's spent an entire week over at my place. Haven't you noticed?"
"Of course we have. It's just that she can work out her boyfriend
problem a lot easier away from us, and your place is like her second
home."
"How can she work it out? She doesn't say anything! All she does is
stare at the ocean or the sky or the TV! I haven't had more than two
words out of her all week! There must be something seriously wrong
here."
"Richard, my daughter is hurting really bad right now. She is trying
very hard to work out what is to her an extremely difficult situation.
I can do nothing to help her, nor can her father or her sister. For
the first time in her life she has a problem that only she can deal
with."
"Surely to god there's something somebody can do? Maybe go out and
have an, er, friendly chat with this boyfriend?"
"No, that wouldn't work either. We've talked things over here, and
doing that would only make the situation worse. I really wish there
was something we could do."
"So you're just going to let her live at my place until she's solved
her problem?"
"That's your choice. It's your place, you make the rules. If you
don't think she should be there, you can always tell her to leave."
Talk about unsatisfactory. No answers, no solution, no clues as to
how to get into Brenda's head. Frustrated and uneasy I went back
home.
Dinner for two again. If this went on, I'd need more provisions, and
I thought about getting a better variety of food. Cooking for one
leads to a rather uninteresting, almost monotonous set of staples.
After some work and some TV, I sent her home at eight.
Friday, four o'clock, no Brenda. Five o'clock, no Brenda. Six
o'clock, ditto. I dropped in at their place to socialize for a
while. No Brenda. I went home again, watched some TV, and went to
bed. I was lonely.
Saturday was a gorgeous, warm, sunny spring day. For some reason, it
was even more perfect when I noticed Brenda sunning herself out in the
back again, in her bikini. I called out a good morning, just to let
her know I noticed. After cooking lunch for two, I went out shopping,
leaving the back door open for her, returning just before suppertime
to find she'd come inside, curled up under the quilt and fallen
asleep. She looked so innocent, so vulnerable, and yes, so beautiful,
it was hard to keep from picking her up just to hold her in my arms.
I swore that if I ever met that jerk of a boyfriend, he would regret
every moment of pain he caused this woman-child.
She woke up while I was cooking dinner. After eating, as we sat to
watch TV, she snuggled up to my side, still under the quilt. I put my
arm around her, feeling quite protective that evening. She felt good,
even though I was *very* careful about where my hand was. That bikini
left a lot of bare skin. When I went to bed, I was still muttering
half-formed threats against that boyfriend of hers.
Sunday, same routine, except that after dinner Vicky came over for a
reading session. I then realized I hadn't seen her all week. I guess
Brenda was just too depressing to be around. Funny that I seemed to
be happier with her there, even with her not saying anything. Yes,
she curled up in my lap again, gave me a big sloppy kiss, and left me
with another aching boner. I was still happy. Horny as hell, but
happy.
She was over again Monday.
Tuesday I worked late, returning home at seven. Once again, she was
out on the porch, shivering. I called her a bloomin' idiot and a
numbskull and several other G-rated versions of the same thing,
carried her inside, warmed her up, fed her, and told her that no
stupid jackass of a boyfriend was worth going through this shit for.
Wednesday I told her I had a date Thursday and wouldn't be home until
late. She just looked at me for a few seconds, then looked away. It
was impossible for me to miss that brief stab of pain in her eyes.
Later, lying in bed, I tried to figure out why it hurt her to know I
was going out on a date, and why I felt so bad about it.
Thursday. My date was okay, she was a nice lady I'd met in school,
and we'd dated several times before. She knew me fairly well, and
commented that I seemed distracted all night. I told her it was a
problem at work that kept popping up in my mind, and I apologized for
being such a drag. There's no way I could tell her that I was worried
about Brenda.
Friday. No Brenda. I went over to socialize for a while, and found
out she was on a date with some guy from her school. Not her
boyfriend. Okay, I can handle that, can't I? Maybe she's trying to
make her boyfriend jealous.
Saturday. No Brenda.
Sunday. No Brenda. I asked Mary if she was getting over her
boyfriend problem.
"I don't think so. This is the third day in a row she's had a date,
and each time she's been with a different guy. I don't know what her
boyfriend did, but she's apparently trying to make him jealous or get
even with him for something. I have tried to talk to her about it,
but with no success."
"What the hell does she think she's doing? Is this boyfriend of hers
worth it?"
"She thinks so. I'm not so sure. He's a nice enough guy, but in some
ways he is such an idiot. I just hope he realizes what's happening
before Brenda really gets hurt."
Vicky came over for a while later that afternoon, just to talk and get
away from home. I asked her about her sister.
"She's mad at her boyfriend. No, she didn't say why. Her boyfriend?
I kinda like the guy. Her dates? Jerks, all of them. Why? I think
she's lookin' for trouble. Mom thinks so too. Dad's stayin' out of
it, 'cause mom knows lots more about my sister's problem."
I don't know about Brenda's boyfriend, but she was certainly getting
me upset. And jealous. And worried.
Monday she was there. After dinner I tried to talk to her, to get her
to say something to me. I talked, begged, pleaded, yelled, and
shouted. I wasted my breath. Exasperated and drained, I sat on the
couch with her to watch some TV. She snuggled up to my side again and
I put my arm around her. The world was a good place again.
"Brenda, I'm working late again tomorrow night. Please try not to be
a blithering idiot again by waiting here for me because I don't know
what time I'll be home." No response. We just watched the tube for a
while.
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
Huh? What? I was watching a show when she said something and totally
missed it. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention. What did you say?"
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
Do I? My mind ran through all the ladies I'd dated for the last year,
whether they ended up as bedmates or not.
"No, I don't have a girlfriend. I have some ladyfriends that I go out
on dates with, but no steady. Why do you ask?"
No answer. I did get a kiss before she went home that night, though.
It left me stiff as a board, but what the hell. It felt good. Her
question left me wondering what the hell she was up to.
Tuesday I got home at eleven. No sign that Brenda had been there.
Good.
Wednesday, no Brenda. I did get a call from home, one that meant some
changes were approaching. My baby sister was coming out early to stay
with me. We had planned on her coming out in late August, but now she
was going to be here in early may. Less than two weeks. Somehow
she'd managed to finish high school early, and wanted to spend the
summer here rather than at home. So she'd be here a few months
earlier than planned. That would give her some time to get used to
the city before going to college, since she'd already been accepted
into the same U. I was attending. Now, I know there's something more
to this because of the way my sister was trying to sound so easy going
and convincing. It was simpler to shelve my suspicions for later than
to worm it out of her over the 'phone. I looked forward to seeing her
again, even if it was because of some unvoiced problems.
Thursday. No Brenda
Friday I went over to talk to Mary before school was out.
"Yes, she's been out on dates for the last two days. Two more new
boys. I don't like either one of them."
"Vicky says that her dates have all been jerks."
"That could be. I've only met a few of them, so couldn't comment on
them all, but those few I don't like very much."
"Why do you let her go out then? She's going to get into trouble with
one of them eventually."
"Brenda is trying to sort out her problems with that boyfriend. I
think she's waiting for him to make her stop. I don't know if that's
going to work though, because she's playing dangerously. If it keeps
going like this, there will be trouble sooner rather than later."
"That's what I mean! One of those kids won't take no for an answer.
I'm sure of it. Doesn't that bother you?"
"Of course it does! She'll be losing her virginity to some creep
rather than to someone she loves! Do you think I'm that stupid that I
can't see what kind of dynamite she's playing with? If that boyfriend
of hers doesn't smarten up soon, I'll get Will to use a baseball bat
on him! Maybe then he'll understand what he's doing to my daughter!"
"That's something I've been thinking of doing myself for a week
already. I just wish I knew who he was."
"That would only make things worse, and you know it. She is the only
one who can really solve this problem."
"When she gets home, please send her over. I'm going to try and talk
some sense into that thick skull of hers, even if she won't say a
damned word to me."
She showed up at four. We had dinner, then we cuddled in front of the
TV. After a few caresses, I tried to talk to her.
"Why are you going out with all these jerks?" No answer. "All you
are going to do is get yourself into trouble. Nobody is worth the
problems you could cause yourself." No response. "Please, Brenda,
don't do this to yourself. Think of your family." Nothing.
"Please. You're hurting your mother, your father, your sister." She
just sat there with her eyes on the tube. "All right. For my sake
then. I just couldn't stand the thought of you being hurt by one of
those guys."
After talking a bit longer, still being totally ignored, I wound down.
It took a while but she did say something.
"All right."
Huh? An answer? A positive one yet?
"You mean you won't go out with those creeps anymore?"
"I won't go out on any more dates with those guys."
"What made you change your mind?"
No answer. No more answers for the rest of the evening. As she left,
I kissed her for a change. She smiled. I still couldn't figure out
what I said to change her mind about those creeps she was going out
with. It was something to puzzle over.
Saturday it rained. She and Vicky were both over for most of the
day. They both sat on the couch, reading, watching some TV, and
staring out the window. At least Vicky would still talk to me, so we
jawed about her school, the kids she knew, my work and school, her
parents, and my family. I cooked them lunch, then supper. We had
cocoa and popcorn in front of the TV later, and Brenda sat in my lap
until they went home. One thing about having her over regularly, my
beer consumption was way down.
Sunday was similar to Saturday, except they both went home for
dinner. It was lonely, cooking for myself again.
**********************************************************************
< So far, so normal. Things were getting odd, but nothing truly
bizarre or weird was happening. Brenda was having a lot of trouble
dealing with her boyfriend problem, and was dealing with it in a way I
didn't understand, but I could handle it. I thought I could handle
it. >
**********************************************************************
<<End of chapter 1>>
Next chapter - End of her conquest, a decision, their first evening
(Well, do you think Richard will ever wise up? You and I both
know that he's as dense as a fencepost. Maybe he'll realize it too,
before it's too late. Not much sex so far - well, none actually - but
this is a rather long story. There's more than enough later, and some
plot twists you wouldn't expect.)
Author's note:
Enid Blyton is a well-known author of many dozen mystery books for
pre-teen and early teen children. The other authors and books
mentioned are real.
Subject: BOMBADIL: "Brenda - A Love Story" 2/9
From: S THOMAS BUSH <stbush@iglou.com>
Date: 14 Apr 1997 19:13:15 GMT
--------
Brenda - A Love Story [ M/f f/f ]
by Tom Bombadil (c) Aug 1996
Chapter 2 of 9
Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended
by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is
illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are
under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you
might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this
text from your computer.
This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions
described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of
fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or
actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in
my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or
relatives.
You've been warned.
In this chapter - End of her conquest, a decision, our first evening
**********************************************************************
< Here's where the results of their machinations finally showed up.
Something I never would have believed myself capable of years ago.
Something I still have trouble believing happened to me. Something
that I actively participated in. I still don't know what was going on
in my head at that time. Not that it really matters much, now. >
**********************************************************************
Monday she was back again. After dinner, when we were snuggling in
front of the TV, I asked her a question that had been bothering me for
a while. I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.
"Brenda, why are you here at my place all the time? Your mother says
it's because you're working out a problem with your boyfriend.
Shouldn't you be with him instead?"
She turned and looked at me with those big beautiful green eyes of
hers. After a minute of staring, she kissed me, then turned back to
the TV.
I admit that I can be pretty dense. Sometimes things that are
obvious to others just pass me by. Hints may have to be less than
subtle. I do, however, notice it when someone hits me with a baseball
bat. That's what it felt like. A nice 32 ouncer right across the
back of my skull. I was the jerk, the bastard, that horse's behind.
Just to confirm my idiocy, I had to ask.
"I'm the boyfriend everyone's been talking about, aren't I?"
"Yes"
A simple answer, said so calmly and so easily she could have been
saying yes to having a soda. Like the class A-1 jerk I am, I opened
my mouth before thinking things through.
"Brenda, I can't be your boyfriend. I'm far too old for you!"
Here I am, cuddled up with her under a quilt, alone with her in my
place for the umpteenth time, watching TV, my arm around her, touching
and occasionally kissing, suddenly realizing what was going on. Like
I said. Dense. She had an answer for that. Or rather, she had a
question.
"Do you love me?"
I opened my mouth, ready with another quick answer, then shut it
before I made things worse. Besides, the more I thought it through,
the less sure I was of my answer. I did love her, but in what way?
I had no reply to give, so this time I kept silent. The thing that
surprised me was that we stayed snuggled together until it was time
for her to go home. She never moved away from me, and I never moved
my arm or myself away from her. We kissed again as she left.
Sleep only came to me early in the morning. It was haunted by
unremembered dreams.
Tuesday I re-arranged my work schedule so I could talk with Mary in
the afternoon before Brenda got home from school. It was a memorable
conversation.
"Mary, Brenda asked me a question yesterday and I don't know what kind
of an answer I can give her."
"Let me guess. First, you figured out who her boyfriend is, right?"
"I - Uh, yes."
"Then she asked you the big question. We talked about it last night."
"What am I supposed to say to her?"
"The truth, when you figure that out."
"Come off it. She's almost young enough to be my daughter. I can't
be her boyfriend. There's no way it could ever work out."
She *was* almost young enough to be my daughter. If I'd been really
unlucky my first time, I could have had a kid about twelve years old
at that point.
"Let's try something different before you say something you'll regret.
I'll ask you a few questions, and for each honest answer I'll give you
something in return. These will be difficult, so think before you
reply. Nothing you say will be repeated to anyone, either."
It wasn't what I expected. Then again, I had no idea how she'd react
in the first place. But this?
"How old were you when you first had sex?"
Instant panic. Then the automatic reflexes kicked in. "Sixteen."
"Richard, I said honest answers. That means the truth. Otherwise
leave."
Honest answers. This was important. Was I that transparent?
"You have to promise first that *nothing* I say here will ever be
repeated."
"You have my solemn word."
"I was twelve. Don't ask who with, because I'll never tell anyone
that."
(And before you dirty-minded pervs out there get any ideas, no it
wasn't with either of my sisters or my mother or my aunt.)
"The first time is supposed to be a wonderful experience. Did you
enjoy it?"
"No. Neither one of us had the slightest idea of what to do, so it
was messy, painful for her, upsetting to me, and downright scary
seeing all that blood. We never ever tried that again, at least with
each other."
"Yours was a little worse than average, but not by all that much. My
first time was when I was eleven. He was eighteen, and we both loved
every second of the event, even the brief pain when I lost my cherry."
"What sick bastard would fuck an eleven year old?"
She grabbed a beer from the fridge and put it in front of me.
"Here. You'll need that to wash the taste of foot from your mouth.
It was Will, my husband."
I shut my mouth, then had a quick couple of slugs. This was a shock.
It was difficult to picture Will as a pedophile.
"You see, I chose him to be my first because I wanted it to be
special. He was smart, good-looking, charming, and a really nice
person. It took a lot of convincing on my part to get him to 'take
advantage' of me. I don't thing he realized back then how things
would turn out. My mother never suspected a thing until I was
seventeen and I picked him to be my date at the junior prom."
"So you're saying that you approve of anything that happens between
us. Is that it?"
"I'll answer that with another question. How many of Brenda's
classmates do you think are still virgins?"
"What's that got to do with anything!?"
"Answer the question."
"I have no idea. All? Most of them?"
"Just over half. The others have already started in on their sex
lives, whether as a one-time thing or on a regular basis. By this
time next year, you'd be lucky to find half a dozen virgins in that
class. What I'm saying is that Brenda has made it clear that she will
be active soon, with or without you. She chose you years ago, but
you've been so thick-headed that you've never noticed. Then you drop
hints about moving away. What do you think that's doing to her?"
Now I'm trying to picture it from her point of view, and I realize
that I can't. She's probably spent more time at my place than
anywhere outside of home or school. We've done things together that
require a great deal of trust and faith in each other. Hell, she's
been occasionally sharing my bed. I thought I knew her. Trust, yes.
Faith, yes. Love?
"Mary, what is it she's looking for from me? I need to know."
"You have to ask her that. Once you start asking the right questions,
she'll start talking to you again."
"How long have you been in on this conspiracy?"
"For half a year. That's when she became serious about you. Before
that, it was just an infatuation, and we ignored it. Since then,
Brenda, Will, and I have had quite a few arguments, but she has her
mind made up. If we say no, she's made it clear that her second
choice is either the football team or the baseball team. I *thought*
she was joking, but she didn't smile or laugh when she said that.
Brenda gave us a choice, and we would rather she have her chance with
you than do something stupid in retaliation."
It took a few seconds for me to absorb that shock.
"Is there anything else I should know?"
"Only this. I love my daughter, and I do not want to see her get
hurt. Make certain that you can live with your choices, whatever
they are."
She was over at four, as usual. I was getting good at this cooking
for two business, since I was getting so much practice. The quality
of the food and the cooking had gone up considerably over the
course of those two weeks.
After dinner, we cuddled again, adding in some more caressing and
kissing, this time watching the sunset.
It was time for some honest answers, I hoped.
"Why did you choose me?"
She looked at me, looked back at the sunset, and sighed.
"You are a really nice guy. You are handsome, intelligent, willing to
learn, and you can think. For me, you've always been a person, not
just another adult. You treated me nice, paid attention to me, bought
me things that were special just for me, and you said you'd never hurt
me. You never have. Lots of times you could have taken advantage of
me, teased me, sent me home for teasing you, or tattled when Vicky and
I fought, but you never did. I fell in love with you. That's why I
chose you."
All right, what was I supposed to say. She just bared her soul, and
I didn't know if it was within me to give her what she wanted.
"What are you looking for from me?"
"Love. The real kind. I think you love me, but I don't know for
sure. I guess it's 'cause you don't know either. I'm waiting for you
to figure that out."
I guess I asked the right question. Could I handle the answer? It
definitely needed a lot of thought. One thing I did notice - over the
past two weeks it had changed from her showing up and sometimes
snuggling up to me to *us* cuddling, caressing, and kissing. There
had never been a full-time lady in my life (except the Aussie, but we
both knew that would end) and sitting there, sharing time with Brenda,
did feel awfully nice. But did I love her like she was the love of my
life? Once again, I had no answer to give.
Wednesday, when we were cuddling, I asked one more question.
"Brenda, if I did leave, what would you do?"
I could feel the tension and shock roll through her body.
"Richard, if you left me, I would be heartbroken for a long time.
Eventually I would get over it, of course, and try to find someone
else. It would never be the same as with you, but I would probably
find a man I could care for. He wouldn't be as good for me as you
are, but if that's what you decide, then I have no choice."
"I haven't decided yet. I wanted to hear from you what might happen.
It helps to know you wouldn't do something really foolish."
Later that night, I tried to picture someone else sitting beside me
on the couch, someone besides Brenda. Anyone else. I went through
my batch of possible dates, the ladies in college, the ones I met
overseas, even the girls from high school. It wasn't difficult to
picture sitting and cuddling with most of them, but it was impossible
to imagine sitting there and getting the same feelings of togetherness
and belonging. Only one came close, and that was Nadine, the woman
from Australia. Of course, that may have been leftover lust. She was
still the best bedmate I'd ever had.
That didn't do much good.
Thursday at lunchtime I got some help making up my mind. It was a
question I asked of one of our customers. We were treating them to
lunch, and things had already moved from pleasantries through business
and into general talk. Jerry, the customer's head guy, was going
through his fourth divorce. I asked him if he'd ever found the
perfect woman.
"Once, a very long time ago, I did. She was beautiful, intelligent,
cuddlesome, and a lot of fun to be with. I was young and foolish, too
full of myself. There were lots of chicks around. I took her for
granted, took too long to pop the question, so she found someone
else. It was only after she left that I realized how much I loved
her. I've been looking for someone like her for the last thirty
years. If you have a chance like that, don't pass it up."
"How did you finally figure out that you loved her?"
"That's an easy question for me now. The answer simply came too late
to help. Just picture that special person in your mind, in a time and
place where you both were happy together. Now imagine spending the
entire rest of your life without her. If you can do that with a
steady heart, you're not in love. If the thought makes you ill, then
you may be in love. The worse you feel, the more likely you love the
lady. I've never been in love since, but I keep looking, obviously
without any luck."
Later that evening, when Brenda and I were cuddling, I tried out his
suggestion. It was easy to imagine us sitting here watching the
sunset, because that's what we were doing. Pushing forward ten years,
then twenty, I removed her from the picture. I took out her form,
her smile, her eyes and hair, her unique smell, that fantastic ass,
her voice and laugh, the arguments and teasing, her temper, all the
books and readings, our kisses and cuddles, watching her in the
sunshine, seeing her sleeping, having her run all over the place, the
way we slept together, her face when she unwrapped a special present,
how she made me feel when we were together like that, everything.
Just imagining it left such a big hole in my heart I started to cry.
Brenda waited for my to finish, not saying a word. It was a quick
recovery, since I could still hold and cuddle her. We kissed.
"Brenda, I love you. For now and for always. As long as you want me,
I'm yours."
"It's about damned time you figured that out! I've been waiting a
year already! Now let's kiss for real!"
So much for my idyllic romantic scene. I needed to adjust my imagined
'love moments', modifying them to match the spirit and temperament,
never mind the impatience, of a thirteen year old girl.
There is something to be said for enthusiasm. Her kissing technique
needed a little work, but she was good and would get better. It was
definitely a lot of fun, especially when she was squirming on my lap.
I hoped I would never regret that choice. She went home at eight,
promising that the next day, being Friday, we'd start getting
serious. Talk about a suggestive statement!
**********************************************************************
< Well? How would you have fared against this lady? Any better than
me? Or am I the only weak-willed person on the planet, the only one
who could have been captivated by this young vixen? >
< Something I always wondered about is what would have happened if she
had been less adamant about capturing me, or if one of those other
dates had gotten to her first. Where would we each be now? Would I
have found someone to love like I love her? Somehow I doubt it. >
< First, I'll tell you about the great time we had on Friday. I'll
save Saturday and all the surprises for later. >
**********************************************************************
Friday was very ... memorable.
After my morning class and some early afternoon work, I dropped in to
speak with Mary again. That was before Brenda got off school.
"So, did she tell you?"
"She didn't have to. She was lit up like a beacon and bouncing off
the walls. The only thing she needed to say was "he's finally mine!".
You could be in for some rather, ah, interesting times."
"No kidding. That's what I'm here to talk about. You realize, of
course, now that I've said yes, what she's going to want?"
"Do we need to go through that again? I already understand what you
are going through, and how my daughter is feeling. This is her
choice. Just be good to her. It's all I ask."
Mary invited me to dinner Saturday, as a sort of celebration.
I decided to dress up for our first night. Shiny black shoes, black
socks, pressed black dress pants, and a white dress shirt with cuffs
and collar. I ignored the cologne, since most of my previous dates
preferred a natural smell if we were intending to become intimate.
Dinner was sort-of catered. I went out of my way to get some really
good Chinese take-out. It would reheat nicely in the oven or the
microwave. There was already wine and beer in the 'fridge, so that
wasn't a problem, though I doubted she had done much, if any, drinking
before. That was in addition to the usual assortment of sodas.
It took forever for four o'clock to show up. Brenda didn't show until
five. The wait was worth it.
She and her mom must have worked for hours to get her looking like
that. Her red-blonde hair was pulled back into a pair of braids, one
falling behind either shoulder. There were hints of makeup on her
face, just enough to accent her eyes, cheeks and lips. She didn't
need any more. On top she wore a beautiful soft white blouse with
full sleeves and lacy neck and wrists. You could just see hints of
the lace bra underneath, through the fabric. Below that was a navy
blue miniskirt, just barely long enough to cover the tops of her
stocking in front and back, and showing them off on the slit sides.
Yes, she wore pale blue elastic-topped stockings. Her shoes were the
same navy blue as the dress.
This woman-child was a magnificent sight. Her outfit showed off all
her assets, including her long luscious legs, nice waist, petite
breasts, and, my favorite, that tight, round backside. If Brenda had
dressed like that on any of her dates in the last couple of weeks,
there's no way those guys would have left her alone. When she came
in, she did a slow turn, letting me get a good look at all sides of
that beautiful creature.
In spite of all the physical beauty, it was her eyes that drew me to
her. They glowed, revealing an inner fire I couldn't resist. For a
time, little existed other than her, all else fading into nothingness.
Her look of love, tinged with lust, re-ignited my passions, sweeping
aside all doubts and questions. The woman I loved was standing there,
waiting for me, wanting me.
"... like it?" She had been speaking, but I hadn't heard any of it.
"You are so beautiful ..." In two steps I was there, lifting her in
an embrace so we could kiss. I think I may have frightened her a
little, since it took some time before her arms finally wove
themselves around my neck. It was the single most wonderful kiss I
have ever experienced. The magic of the moment was simply too
powerful to ever be repeated in my lifetime.
That intense period of rapture slowly passed, leaving behind a legacy
of happiness, caring, and love. I came back to myself, regaining
awareness of my surroundings. She was returning my kiss with a hunger
I have rarely seen, pulling herself into me with arms and legs, almost
painfully crushing her lips to mine, our tongues dancing in and out in
an unchoreographed web of desire.
Did I teach her to kiss like that?
I pulled back from her for a moment. I needed to breathe. It was
either that or pass out. Once again I could see into her eyes and
was struck by the raw passion there, something I'd never seen in her
before, something I hoped would be there forever.
"Wow! Do you kiss all the girls like that?"
I chuckled. "Only one."
"Yeah? Who?"
"You." I leaned in for another kiss, one less forceful, but with all
the same love and desire I felt for this woman-child. Her lips tasted
of strawberries, I noticed.
That was something new for both of us, and it was a bit scary. I had
no idea how much this person could affect me until then, and the
result was frightening in it's intensity. No person in my life had
stirred up those emotions, whether lovers or family. For her,
everything was new, untasted and unknown. I had to bring down the
heat a little, or I really would have scared her. It was tough
reigning in my hormones.
We did eventually have dinner, curled up on the couch, watching the
sunset again. Despite my romanticism, the wine was left in the
fridge. Beer did go nicely with chinese, though. We shared two.
After dinner, she dragged me upstairs. "I want to see this thing I've
been sitting on for all these months."
She was serious. As soon as we were in the room, she sat on the bed
and told me to strip.
"I've seen everything but what's in your shorts, and I wanna see that
thing now too. Come on, get moving."
"Impatient, aren't we." I was just as impatient as she was, but was
also quite a bit more experienced. A little anticipation goes a long
way, and can be quite a turn-on. It only took me about two minutes
to undress to my boxers, but probably seemed more like twenty to
Brenda.
"Here. I'll let you unwrap your new toy."
My cock was already hard, tenting out the front of my shorts. She
came over, looking a little tentative, reaching out with one of her
small hands to touch the front of the bulge. That first contact sent
shivers through me. She traced the outline through the fabric, moving
it this way and that, getting an idea of the size and shape of it.
Hooking her fingers under the elastic on either hip, she pulled my
shorts down to my ankles in one motion. My cock sprang free and
bounced off her chin on her way down.
It was intriguing, watching her examine me, eyes wide and glittering
with excitement.
"Is this the first cock you've ever seen?"
"No, but it's the first one I've seen up close."
Interesting answer. I made a mental note to talk with Mary about
that.
It was my turn next. I sat on the edge of the bed and drew her in
to me, pulling her head down for a kiss. It was another
pulse-pounding event, with her holding my cock with both hands.
Removing my lips from hers, I began to explore the rest of her with
them, moving along her chin then down her throat. It was easy to undo
her blouse and slip it over her shoulders. She released my shaft and
dropped the blouse to the floor. Grabbing each other, we dove into
another kiss, assaulting each other with lips and tongues.
She pulled back, breaking our kiss and embrace, leaving us both
gasping for air. She giggled, the first time I ever heard that sound
from her.
"I think I need to be naked now, don't you?"
I sat there and watched as she removed her bra, dropping it on a
chair. She moved her blouse from the floor to that same chair. It
was soon followed by her shoes, skirt, stockings, and panties.
Now she was nude, standing there in front of me, blushing, but making
no move to cover up. In fact, she began to show off a little, turning
and letting me get a good close look at every part of her. As much as
I had seen with her in a bikini, this was much better. Her breasts
were small but perfectly shaped, topped by quarter-sized dark pink
aureole and little-girl nipples that were now hard and pointed.
Something I immediately noticed was that there were no tan lines.
Looking lower, in front and behind, I saw no tan lines anywhere - and
no hair. She must have seen the surprise on my face.
"We've got a very private backyard. Mom lets us skinny-dip in the
pool and get an all-over tan when nobody else is around. It's fun,
and a bit exciting. We do it all the time."
"No hair, either." I was stating the obvious.
"Well, I don't have much anyway, and it's easier to shave it all than
try and keep it trimmed for gymnastics. Besides, it makes me feel -
*nasty*."
"I like it. May I?"
I reached out my hands for her breasts, and she moved into them,
allowing me to touch, hold, fondle, and caress those tight little
tanned half-orbs. Stepping in closer, she pulled my head down towards
her chest, keeping her hands on my shoulders for support. How could I
resist such an invitation? At first, I simply let my head rest
between her mounds, getting used to the feel of being so close to her,
still using my hands to gently massage those fleshy pillows, gently
teasing and rubbing her nipples with my fingers. It was with care and
tenderness, using lips and tongue, that I began to nibble and lick my
way around the outsides of her breasts. They were warm, oh-so-soft
and silky, tasting slightly salty from sweat.
My hands moved behind her, one caressing her shoulders, neck, and
upper back, the other moving lower to touch and caress the backs of
her legs and that wonderfully tight, round, firm ass. It felt even
better than it looked.
Those gentle ministrations were having an effect on her. I could feel
her body's tension and hear her occasional slight, almost whining,
sigh of pleasure. Using both hands, I began a gentle caress of her
entire lower body, starting from her lower back, over her ass and down
the back of her legs, then up her thighs, over her hips to her waist,
across the front of her stomach, then down over her mound and the
fronts of her legs. When one hand touched her inner thigh, she
spread her legs to allow me access to her crotch. That, I denied
myself, for the moment. It was simply too much fun exploring the rest
of her beautiful body.
My mouth was not idle during that time. I licked and nibbled each
orb in turn, slowly inching closer to her nipples, until my tongue was
circling just out of reach of her buds. When I opened my mouth and
sucked half her tit into my mouth, she shuddered and groaned, pressing
herself closer to me, spreading her knees, and starting a slow rocking
motion with her hips. She was getting wound up in a hurry.
I continued to lick and suck on her nipples, pulling them into my
mouth and flicking them with the tip of my tongue, nibbling at them
with my lips, sometimes grazing them lightly with my teeth. My hands
continuously caressed her body, coming close to but never quite
touching her pussy. Her breathing was becoming faster and heavier,
those squeaking sighs more frequent. There was now a damp heat
radiating from her crotch, something I could feel whenever one of my
hands wandered near. The rocking of her hips was also getting faster
and more insistent, almost beginning to demand attention.
It was difficult to maintain a slow pace, but it was for her
pleasure, so I did. If I pushed too fast or too hard, I might have
scared her or hurt her, and that would have been unforgivable. My own
needs would have to wait, possibly for another day. With the promise
of a long future, it was a very small sacrifice.
Now she was completely lost within her own pre-orgasmic world. All
thoughts and inhibitions had disappeared. I was in control of her
body and her sensations, and I wanted to draw out her pleasure for
a while. It would have been easy (and I was tempted) to jam my hand
into her crotch and drive her into an almost immediate orgasm, but
that would be short-changing her after that long, delicious build-up.
No, taking my time and doing it right, despite the pounding of my
heart and the fire in my belly, was the best thing right then.
Moving both hands, I used one to hold, fondle, and squeeze those tight
ass muscles of hers, and the other I used to cup her pussy, all of it,
from her mound to her ass crack. She immediately spread her legs
wider and attempted to drive herself to orgasm by grinding her crotch
into my palm. I let my hand be moved along with her hips, denying her
that release. Her high-pitched sigh/whines were now interspersed with
the odd whimper and moan of frustration. She wanted to cum bad, and I
wasn't letting her.
It was easy to let my hand ride with her motions, leaving just enough
resistance to stimulate her, but not nearly enough to get her off.
Slowly she gave up on thrusting, settling in to a slight rocking of
her hips. Her whimpers and moans changed to sighs of pleasure when I
increased the pressure of both hands, one pushing from behind on her
ass, the other pushing up from below and in front against her pussy.
She was completely soaked between her legs, pumping out an amazing
amount of liquid for such a young girl. It was easy to lubricate one
finger and let it settle in between her lower lips, sinking it deep to
lie full-length against her inner recesses. Her rocking motion
increased in intensity, becoming harder and faster, but only moved
a few inches back and forth.
I let her get herself off, rocking and swiveling her hips, changing
position and angle to press her most sensitive spots against me. I
helped by grinding my palm into her mound to stimulate her clit, and
by crooking my finger and driving the tip into her hole.
She came with a gasp and a shudder, her entire body tensing and
stopping all motion. I responded by attacking her with hands and
mouth. I had never stopped licking and nibbling her nipples, but
I went back to a hard sucking, tonguing, and nipping of them. My
hands were driving fast, replacing her now absent motion with their
own, pushing her, rubbing her clit, her slot, and the first inch of
her vagina. With that strong, flexible, well-conditioned gymnast's
body of hers, she could handle a long, drawn-out climax, and I gave it
to her. I kept her there for a good minute or so, only slowing and
stopping when she ran out of air. I'm not sure how many peaks she
had, but each one was punctuated by another loud gasp and a firmer
pull on my head with her arms.
To prevent her from collapsing on the floor, I stood and picked her
up. Laying her out on the bed, I crawled on beside her, pulling her
to me in a tight embrace. Shudders were still running through her
from that long, intense set of orgasms. I pulled a blanket over us
both, then kissed her, lightly, before settling down for some rest.
She needed it.
I guess I drifted off for a bit there, because I woke up to a
wonderful sensation on my cock. When I looked, Brenda was curled up
between my legs, one hand slowly stroking my shaft, while she licked
the underside with her tongue. Her eyes flickered up to meet mine for
a second, acknowledging the fact that I was awake.
"I think I like my new toy. In sex ed they always call it a penis.
What do you call it?"
"Well, when I think about it, I call it my cock."
"Sometimes the other girls call it funny names, ones I don't
recognize. Can you tell me all of them?"
"<chuckle> Brenda, even I don't know all the euphemisms people have
for a cock. There's hundreds of them. The one's you'll usually hear
are cock, prick, dick, penis, shaft, rod, dirk, dagger, love tool,
willie, baby-maker, spunk-jet, rocket - ah hell, I can't remember any
more right now."
"Do you like what I'm doing to you?"
She was giving me a nice, leisurely hand job with a lot of tongue
action thrown in. It was a fairly skillful effort too. Somehow I
didn't think this was her first time - she was doing too good a job.
"Yes, this feels really nice. How many other boys have you done this
to?"
"None. This is my first time. I've never touched
a ... cock ... before."
"How come you're so good at it, then?"
"Well, if you promise not to tell anyone, I'll let you know."
I promised.
"I've been watchin' mom and dad for years. They do all kindsa stuff.
This is one of dad's favorites. Of course, mom usually does this,
too."
She moved forward a bit and ... engulfed ... my cock. That's the only
way I can describe it. The feeling was incredible as her mouth closed
over onto two-thirds of my shaft. I guess she wanted to get used to
the taste or the feel or something, because all she did for the next
few minutes was do a bit of sucking and lick around on different
parts of the shaft and head. She pulled off and let go with an almost
audible pop, and resumed her slow stroking.
"That doesn't taste too bad. Not like some of the girls said. It's
kinda musky and salty, but not gross. What's that stuff?"
I opened my eyes again. She was staring at a drop of pre-cum sitting
on the head of my cock.
"That's a bit of pre-cum. Didn't they teach you about that in your
sex ed class?"
"N-no. It's not pee, is it?"
"No, it's not. I can't pee when I'm excited like this. The plumbing
inside gets turned off. They don't teach you much, do they."
"All they teach is about penises and vaginas and wombs and testicles
and ovaries and eggs and sperm and periods and making babies - and
lots and lots about funny diseases people can get. They don't say
anything about fucking or kissing or climaxing or any of the good
stuff. We gotta figure that out on our own."
"True. But that's all part of the fun of growing up. The older you
get, the more you know, the more fun you have."
"Yeah, but I wanna have fun now, not wait until I'm old. Heck, mom
started a long time before me, and Vicky ..."
"Vicky?"
"Nah. She hasn't done anything with guys yet. She's still a virgin
too."
So there's secrets for Vicky too. Something else to ask Mary about.
"It's time to play with my new toy. Now, how does mom do this ..."
She got up on her knees and leaned over my cock. Using her tongue,
she lapped up the few drops of pre-cum, rolling them around in her
mouth before swallowing. With one motion she was again taking over
half my cock in her mouth. This time, she started a slow bobbing
motion, sliding up and down my shaft. The conversation had distracted
me from what was happening, but suddenly I could feel myself edging a
little closer to that ultimate peak.
I could tell she was practicing, getting used to the feel of my cock
in her mouth, as well as its taste and smell. Her tongue explored
every part it could reach, including trying to insinuate itself into
the hole in the tip of my cock. I've had better blow jobs, but not
for several years. The girl was incredible, instinctively doing all
the right things. I guess watching a live show every once in a while
helps further an education more than I would have thought. I knew if
she kept it up, she'd find out first-hand what semen tasted like.
Brenda started trying something new. She pulled back a bit, tipped up
her head, and slowly sank down into my groin. I could feel the back
of her mouth, then some spasms as her choke reflex kicked in. Moving
back a bit, then forward again, she sank a little farther in, pushing
my cock deeper into her mouth. She pulled back a bit again, catching
her breath, then tilted her head a bit farther and pushed down again.
That time I could feel the head of my cock pass through into her
throat. I could see the concentration in her face - her eyes were
closed tight and her brow was drawn down. After pulling back for some
more air, she pushed in again, sinking down until her nose was buried
in my curly hairs. She'd done it. I could feel my cock being
massaged and compressed every time she swallowed, and could see the
lump in her throat where the head of my cock sat. She finally pulled
right off, breathing hard, with a look of real satisfaction on her
face.
All through it I could only lie there and stare at what she was
doing, with my jaw hanging open and my eyes bugging out. The last
time I'd been swallowed like that was in Puson, and that girl was an
expert. I've had plenty of blow jobs since Puson, but never had
anyone go right down on me. Guys, if you've ever had this done to
you, you know exactly how I felt. It's impossible to describe, trying
to combine the intense physical pleasure of a tight throat and warm
mouth with the mental stimulation of knowing that your cock is sitting
in the gullet of the woman in front of you, and she's doing it
willingly.
By the time she was done, I was gasping and shuddering, on the verge
of climax. But, she was done, and left me hanging there, unaware of
how close I was to blowing my load. She slithered up beside me and
gave me a big, warm, smack on the lips.
"Do you think you could be happy with me? I mean, I am rather young,
and underdeveloped, and I don't know much, and ... and ..."
"Shhh, Brenda, It's okay. C'mere."
I gave her a big hug and a kiss.
"Now listen. I love you. I love you for what you are, not what you
aren't. You are beautiful, inside and out, with personality, charm,
wit, intelligence, and a killer bod. Yes, you are young and
inexperienced, but everyone is at one point. I want to be with you
while you learn about life and love. As you grow older, your beauty
will change from one form to another, but you will still be beautiful.
I'll be happy just to be with you, as long as you want me. And I hope
that will be for a long, long time."
"Richard, I love you."
That next kiss lasted for some time. It's amazing how much passion
can be expressed by two people holding each other tight in a lip-lock
that just won't quit. It helps having a lot of skin contact, and
having a partner who can't seem to lie still.
We lay there for a while, sneaking little kisses from each other,
whispering about nothing in particular, holding and touching, just
getting used to being intimate. I watched the lust building up in
her eyes, until ...
"Richard, would you ..."
"Would I what?"
"Well, would you, like, do me?"
"Do what?"
"Well, like, sorta like I did you, sorta?"
"You mean, lick your pussy?" I was guessing.
"Well, yeah. I see dad do it to mom all the time and she looks like
she loves it but the girls at school say guys don't like it and they
won't do it 'cause it's gross but they like it too and say it's
wonderful but I don't know what it's like and I want to try it!
Please?"
How she got all that out in one breath I'll never know.
"Well, let's see. If you think about it, it is a little gross. I
mean, girls pee there, they have periods with all that blood and
stuff, they get nasty infections, and they get really sweaty and wet
in there."
"Oh."
"Of course, that's never bothered me. Eating out a girl is probably
my third-favorite thing to do."
"Oh!"
I moved in for another kiss. If she learned to kiss like this from
me, then she's a much better student than I am a teacher. Of course,
I could be better than I give myself credit for, but I doubt it.
It took a while for me to work my way down to her pussy. I lingered
on her neck for a bit, then paid more than lip service (Ha! I couldn't
resist!) to her breasts and nipples. By the time I arrived, she was
breathing heavily and letting out the occasional sigh. Shifting us
around, I moved in between her legs and lifted her calves over my
shoulders - my favorite position for a long, lingering session.
She was beautiful here too. No tan lines - even her pussy lips were
tanned. No hair or stubble anywhere. Even as worked up as she was
with her legs spread like that, her lips stayed tightly closed.
Using both hands, I opened her up to view her hidden treasures. That
let loose several trickles of her juice, which I immediately lapped
up. If her wiggling and groaning was any indication, she was
definitely heated up and ready for more.
With the tip of my tongue I traced the junction of her inner thigh and
crotch, from bottom to top, up over her bare mound, then down the
other side. After a short pause to lap up some more dribbles, I
circled back the other way, caught a few more drops, then went back
again. When I gave her one broad stroke from hole to hole to pick up
a little stream, I had to hold her down so she wouldn't throw me off
the bed with her hips. She liked it.
I began to lick at and in her hole to clean up all those delicious
fluids collected there. Inside, she was creamier than outside, and
her taste was a bit thicker and stronger. It was hard to keep up with
her flow, especially since I couldn't sink my tongue in all the way.
Her hymen blocked off access about an inch deep.
So I settled into a rhythm for a while, waiting to see if she'd cum.
Lick deep inside several times to pick up her thick cream. Run my
tongue along the outside edge of her hole for a few seconds. Trace a
line along the edges of both outer and inner lips. Dip down to tickle
her anus. Return with two or three broad strokes from hole to hole.
Back inside for more juice and cream.
Sometimes it was hard to keep the sequence going, especially when
Brenda tried to buck me off the bed. She hadn't cum yet, but her
moans and unintelligible cries and shouts let me know she enjoyed my
attentions. I was pumping my tongue in and out of her hole when
there was a sudden arching and stiffening of her entire body, combined
with a gasp of indrawn breath. I held her down tightly so she
couldn't throw me off, and kept licking up her cream. It changed from
a trickle to a stream, letting me enjoy a real mouthful of her
delicious juices.
She relaxed for an instant, exhaled in a big puff, then gasped and
arched her back again, seizing up in another peak. Then a third.
Breathing hard and fast, she rolled and jerked her hips at me, wanting
more. So I began a slow tongue-tip massage of the skin around and on
top of her tiny clit. It wasn't much bigger than the end of her baby
finger, but it was sensitive.
As soon as she felt the tip of my tongue near her sensitive little
button she began to hump her groin, looking for that extra
stimulation. I lubricated two fingers in her juicy crack and slid
them inside her, down to the first knuckle, and began a slow pump in
and out of her vagina in time with my teasing tongue.
It was time to speed things up a bit. I wanted her completely
satiated before she was completely exhausted, and with all the moving
around she was doing, she'd be pooped in no time. Pulling my fingers
away for a few seconds, I sent some broad strokes up from anus to the
top of her crack, both to collect up her spilling fluids and to
lubricate her completely again. Resuming my finger-fucking at a
faster pace, I pursed my lips around her clit and began to suck hard,
using my tongue to run all around and over top of her hood and
sensitive tip.
That sent her over hard again, but this time I didn't let up, and she
stayed arched, occasionally gasping for air, her unseeing eyes staring
at the ceiling, hands clutching the covers, thighs squeezing me tight,
and vagina spasming around my fingers. Oh, this girl was fantastic!
I finally relented when she came down, collapsing in on herself and
gasping for air. There was no way for me to know if she'd had one
huge climax, or a rapid succession of them. All I could be sure of
was that she'd really gotten off big time.
Crawling up beside her again, I cradled her in my arms, letting her
enjoy the aftermath of her release. When I kissed her, she responded
warmly, but quickly pulled back for some more deep breaths. I pulled
the blankets over us and let her drift off to sleep. I'd wake her
later to let her dress and go home. She told me earlier that her
mother would be waiting up for her.
**********************************************************************
< At the time, I didn't try to analyze what I was doing or why I was
doing it. All that mattered was that I loved this beautiful young
lady, and she loved me. >
< In case you're wondering, my 'morals' had been greatly adjusted by
my experiences in the far east. Since I wasn't a regular tourist, it
went without saying that there were many places I got to that weren't,
shall we say, perfectly acceptable to western ideals. More than a few
times I was propositioned by girls who were, by my poor estimate, no
more than ten or eleven. Fifteen seemed to be about the median age in
those areas. The only time I indulged, though, was in the classier
massage parlors, where the management could guarantee me that the girl
of choice was at least sixteen. They may have mislead me once or
twice, but I did try to stay somewhat close to my parent's values. >
< Those were the girls I learned massage from. Somehow they had a
difficult time believing that someone could pay full price for a girl
to do *anything*, but then, after a brief session of lovemaking, want
to learn their arts. Strange, but true. They certainly enjoyed my
efforts, since theirs was the only body I had available to practice
on. I enjoyed myself immensely. You wouldn't believe how many
different techniques are employed in all the cities between Djakarta
and Sapporo. I tried to make certain the girl was *well* satisfied
before I left, since I usually asked for her again if I returned to
the same place. It made for a much more enjoyable session the second
time around. Of course, massage wasn't the only thing I learned from
them. >
< Oh, right, sorry for rambling on there, but those were times I
remember with a great deal of fondness and joy. >
< Getting back to my story, it's about time I explained what happened
the next day, Saturday. You see, I'd forgotten that my sister was
about to move in with me, and I never mentioned it to anyone,
so ... >
**********************************************************************
<<End of chapter 2>>
Next chapter - A sister's surprise, spies, a crisis
(No way this would be their last time together. It was just too much
fun, at least for Brenda. Besides, poor Richard was left with a woody
and blue balls. Would anyone else be joining in later, though? And
what about that slip of the tongue about Vicky? Something to watch
for. Later on, things heat up considerably - literally!)
Subject: BOMBADIL: "Brenda - A Love Story" 3/9
From: S THOMAS BUSH <stbush@iglou.com>
Date: 14 Apr 1997 19:12:58 GMT
--------
Brenda - A Love Story [ M/f f/f ]
by Tom Bombadil (c) Aug 1996
Chapter 3 of 9
Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended
by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is
illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are
under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you
might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this
text from your computer.
This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions
described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of
fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or
actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in
my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or
relatives.
You've been warned.
In this chapter - A sister's surprise, spies, a crisis
**********************************************************************
< The first thing that happened on Saturday was that my sister arrived.
This didn't go unnoticed. I managed to get her to talk about the
real reason she'd come out so early. It was nothing like what I'd
imagined... >
**********************************************************************
Somehow I managed to crawl out of bed around ten. It had been a long
and rather sleepless night, with dreams of Brenda haunting me during
the wee hours of the morning. I'd gotten her up around midnight and
sent her home, with a great deal of protesting from her, and not much
real conviction on my part. I wasn't used to sending my bedmates home
to mama.
Since the doorbell was what woke me, I wrapped up in a robe and went
downstairs to answer it. There was my baby sister Caitlin. It was
right about then that I remembered she was supposed to be here today.
I hadn't seen her in three years, and she'd changed. Boy, had she
changed! The last time I saw her, she was fourteen and just beginning
to blossom, tall and gangly, knock-kneed, uncoordinated and tripping
over everything. I knew then that she'd be a real beauty, because
she'd inherited the best genes from both our mother and father.
Now, at seventeen, she'd grown from a promise to her full
inheritance. I could still recognize her as my sister, but could also
see her as an absolute beauty. Let's see, from the top. Her hair was
dark, almost black, long and lustrous, currently pinned back into a
ponytail. Her complexion was fair and lightly tanned, with natural
highlights around her cheeks. Her lips were a light red, her eyes
dark brown, large and liquid. She'd inherited some of our father's
height and build, standing 5'7" in her bare feet, with a long, lean
frame, and some of mother's assets, with generous ('C' cup) breasts, a
narrow waist, curvy hips, a tightly packed and wonderfully bouncy
backside, and long, slender legs. I learned later that she kept her
figure with lots of swimming and aerobics. She was wearing a silk
halter top, tied off just below her breasts (no bra), and long, tight
jeans.
She smiled, and did a slow pirouette.
"Finished gawking yet, Rich? Are you going to invite me in, or stare
at me all day?"
I closed my mouth, blinked a few times, took a deep breath, and
croaked. After clearing my throat, I invited her in. I also dragged
in her three suitcases, her trunk, and her duffel bag. She was
travelling light.
After we exchanged greetings and hugs, I got us a couple of sodas
and we sat on the couch to talk.
"Well?" I asked, staring pointedly at her. This had always worked
before, since she could never match my gaze if she was holding
a secret. Eventually she would just blurt it out. It worked this
time, too.
"You didn't buy that story, did you?"
I never even bothered to answer. She was squirming around, looking
everywhere but at me. I just waited. She eventually sighed, and
stared at the floor.
"I guess if I can't tell you, then I can't tell anybody. Will you
promise to keep this a secret?"
"Sis, I promise that whatever you tell me will remain a secret to
everyone living in this house." I had to throw that in, because
somehow I knew Brenda would worm all my secrets from me, eventually.
I considered her part of 'my' house now. Something I hadn't
considered, up until then, was how in hell I was going to explain
Brenda to my sister. I somehow doubted I could keep her a secret.
"Okay. You remember Gary Porter? He lived over on Dove street."
"Yeah, sort of. Wasn't he the tall skinny guy with the thick
glasses?"
"That's him. You'd never recognize him now. He wears contacts,
and he's on the football and rugby teams. He's filled out a lot.
We were going steady for a while, then he made a big stink about me
not giving him head on one date, and we broke up."
She said that so matter-of-factly, without even blushing, that I
blushed. My baby sis talking about sex like this? She had changed.
I continued my stare. She was far from finished, I could tell.
"Do you really need to know the story, Richard? It's really quite
personal and rather embarrassing."
More embarrassing than talking about not giving head to her
ex-boyfriend?
Now we were getting to the heart of the matter, in more ways than
one.
I nodded.
She sighed, and took a drink. "You remembered Gary. Do you remember
his little sister, Angelique?"
I shrugged. It's been quite a while, and anyone much younger than my
sister would have been ignored by me.
"Well, she's fourteen now, and she's the reason I'm out here now.
You see, while I was dating Gary, I also got to know his family,
including his sister Angie. She was ... well, I uh ... somehow
we ... Oh hell, I don't even know how to say it right. I kept going
out with Gary only because it let me get close to her. I don't know
how it happened, it just did. It's never happened to me before!"
Talking about sex with a boy wasn't embarrassing. Talking about
something between her and a girl was. This had to be something
special.
"You mean, you, and Angelique, a fourteen year old girl, got sort of
intimate?"
"Richard, we didn't get sort of intimate." She sighed a bit, staring
at the floor, then continued. "We were full-blown lovers. For three
months." She turned and stared at me, finally blushing. "There.
It's out. You know."
"So, how come you're here?"
"After Gary and I broke up, it was a lot harder for Angie and I to
find the time and privacy we needed. One night her father caught us,
bare-ass naked in bed and making out. He went ballistic. He
threatened to call in the police, our parents, the church, the school,
social workers, everybody. He wanted me put away for life for
'ruining' his daughter. I guess his wife was a little more tolerant,
or maybe a little more afraid of the stink it would cause. She and
Angie talked him into keeping things quiet, for their sakes, not mine,
as long as I left town. That's why I'm here early."
It was some shock, finding out that my sister had fallen for another
girl. And a younger one, at that. I thought about it for a while.
"Well? Aren't you going to yell at me too? Don't you think I'm
a wicked and sinful girl, just like them? Say something!"
"Sis, if you want to fall for another girl, who am I to say you're
wrong. It's your choice to make, not mine. I'm certainly not going
to yell or scream or anything like that. Besides, regardless of who
you share your bed with, you'll always be my baby sis."
She stared at me for a second, with her mouth hanging open, then
jumped into my lap and gave me a big hug and a rather un-sisterly
kiss on the lips. I hugged back, and my cock began to stir. Sister
or not, this was a beautiful and well-built lady squirming around
on top of me, and that kiss was rather suggestive. I hoped it was
just an accident. The last thing I needed right now was more
complications in my life.
"Really?"
"Yes, really. What, did you think I'd disown you or something?
You know me better than that."
"Thanks Rich. I needed to hear that. You're such a wonderful
brother! I'm glad you don't think I'm really weird and perverted.
It's been hard enough on me as it is."
"Sis, you're here with me now. You know I've always been there for
you, and I always will be. Who else knows?"
"You, me, Angie, and her mother and father."
"Our folks don't know? Gary?"
"Nope. Nobody else. I guess that's why it's been so hard. I
couldn't even talk to mother. It's been ... a strain."
She was on the edge of tears, I could hear it in her voice and see it
in the tension on her face. That was something we both wanted to
avoid right now. Let her cry later, when she was more comfortable.
"Yeah," I chuckled. "My poor poor overstressed sis. So many
troubles, so much heartache, nobody loves you. Nobody in the world
hurts like you do, nobody else ever ..."
"Stop that! You're teasing! Don't!"
"At least you still have a sense of humor! Come on, I'll show you
around the place and let you get settled in. You even get your own
bedroom, with no sharing!"
I knew that would get to her. Caitlin and Suzanna shared a bedroom
up until I moved out permanently, five years ago.
"A room all my own! Why, how generous! I was expecting to have to
share a room with you when I got here. Thank you."
Well, turnabout is fair play. She REALLY got me with that comment.
I was hard as a rock, and knew she could feel it underneath her.
After all, she was straddling my lap. She kissed me again, on the
lips. I resolutely kept my mouth shut. Gorgeous babe or not, this
was my sister, and I was now spoken for.
Spoken for. That was going to take some getting used to.
"C'mon, let's go have a look at this place. First, I want to see *my*
room. Besides, I think you're getting a little too excited." She
wiggled her bottom a bit, getting me even more excited.
Standing and grabbing my hand, she dragged me up the stairs. It
wasn't until later I found out that there were two pairs of eyes
watching us, through the french doors, ever since my sister arrived.
I gave Caitlin the royal tour. She liked her room, especially the
queen sized bed and walk-in closet, but hated the curtains. Besides
being ugly, they closed off that huge, deep-set window seat. It was,
according to her, just right for curling up in and reading. Not
my style, but okay. She also loved my back porch with it's unimpeded
view out over the pacific ocean, and the fact that there was a real
beach only a few minutes walk away.
Afterwards, I told her to make herself at home because I needed to
have a shower and shave and stuff. I'd cook lunch later.
**********************************************************************
< In order to give you the full story, I'm going to have to shift
perspectives a bit. It's the only way I can think of to let you know
what happened over at Brenda's that day. Especially about Vicky.
Since a lot of the important stuff happened to other people, I'll
act like a fly on the wall, filling you in on the important bits. >
< I think I'll keep my nose out of her from now on. You should
just be reading the story, not my idiot interjections. Sooo... >
**********************************************************************
"Mom, what am I going to wear!" yelled Brenda from upstairs in her
bedroom.
Mary, her mother, walking over to the bottom of the stairs, answered
back "Why not wear your red blouse and skirt? You know, the one we
got for you last fall? As far as I know it should still fit you,
after all you're not developing THAT fast!"
"Aw, not that one, it makes me look like a ten year-old!" Coming from
someone who's only just turned 13, that sounded a little silly.
"All right dear, I give up." said her mother. "You've gone through
everything else in your wardrobe. You can wear the blue blouse and
skirt. I don't know what all the fuss is about though, after all,
Richard's been over for dinner lots of times, and you've never made a
fuss like this before. You'd think it was a special occasion or
something." She laughed a bit under her breath.
"Thanks Mom! When's Richard gonna be here?"
"I haven't checked with him yet - I've been too busy helping you and
getting everything else ready. Besides, you kept me up 'til 2 AM with
all your chatter last night! I thought I deserved a chance to sleep
in. I guess I better go ask him now."
Vicky, Brenda's kid sister, stuck her head out of the kitchen door and
whispered at her mother. "Hey, wanna know a secret? I think
Richard's got a girlfriend."
Mary whispered back "No, he said he doesn't have a girlfriend. What
makes you think he does?"
"Yeah? Well, look out the window. There's a girl there that looks
like she's moving in! She's real pretty too!"
Mary just had to look. Yes, there she was, standing beside a cab, and
the driver was lugging some big trunk down to Richard's place.
"Come on, Vicky, let's go see what's going on. Now!"
The two of them made it down to Richard's back porch just as Richard
and Caitlin were settling down on the couch. They hid themselves, but
continued to watch.
They saw the two talking for a while, and it looked to be personal,
because Richard blushed, then Caitlin blushed. They watched Caitlin
jump into Richard's lap and give him a kiss on the mouth, then talk
for a while longer. Mary could hardly contain herself when she saw
that girl kiss Richard again, squirming around on his lap. Then,
when she dragged Richard upstairs, him obviously aroused and wearing
not much more than his robe, she became angry.
She cautioned Vicky to keep this a secret for now, because she wanted
to talk to Brenda and Richard before deciding what to do.
**********************************************************************
< Mary had the sense to know that things weren't always what they
seemed, and wanted to wait until she had a chance to talk to me before
deciding that I was a low-life scumbag. That's when June came over
and talked to Caitlin and found out that yes, she was indeed moving
in with me. At least she still wanted to hear it from me before
siccing Will onto me with a baseball bat. >
< Yes, I know. I promise this will be the last time. I'll keep
my two bits to myself. >
**********************************************************************
When Richard got out of the shower, Caitlin looked at him a bit
strangely. She said there had been a visitor.
"She was an older lady, and said her name was Mary. She saw my
suitcases and stuff and asked if I was moving in. It was strange. I
said yes, and she got a rather hard look in her eyes. She told me to
make sure you brought me over for dinner tonight, and to be there at
five."
"Oh, shit." He sat down and put his head in his hands. It finally
dawned on him how this would look to Mary and Brenda."
"Shit, shit, shit." That didn't make him feel any better.
"All right, Richard, what the hell is going on here? Since I'm gonna
be living here, you'd better let me in on your dirty little secrets.
Are you into older ladies or something?" She said that last bit with
a smile and a twinkle in her eyes.
"Caitlin, remember how I promised to keep your secret within this
house?"
"Yes." She said this quite guardedly, losing that laughing mood she'd
had a few seconds ago.
"I need you to promise the same thing. This is very important to
me."
"Richard, I trusted you with my big secret. I hope I can be trusted
with yours. I promise not to tell anyone. Whatever it is, it must be
pretty wicked."
He told her. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done.
**********************************************************************
< I guess I should let you hear my sister's little blow-up. It's
something I'd much rather forget. I really don't like it when my
sister is mad at me. And boy was she mad. >
< All right, all right! Quit throwing things! I'm outta here! >
**********************************************************************
"YOU WHAT!!!" Caitlin was pacing up and down in Richard's living
room, glaring at him every once in a while to make certain he stayed
properly abject.
"God almighty! I can just see it now, people asking me about my
brother -'oh, you mean the child molester'. Sorry, you're right, it's
statutory rape. They'll still put you away for ten or twenty years
for god sake!"
She continued her pacing, and her tirade started again.
"And what about the girl, this thirteen year old 'woman' that you've
taken to bed with you. Have you thought about what it's going to do
to her for the rest of her life? God Richard, I thought you at least
had a few brain cells active when you're horny!"
After a few more minutes of this, she finally burned off enough steam
to sit down again.
"Sis, please, listen. I didn't seduce her, drag her off by the hair
or hypnotize her or anything like that. This girl knew exactly what
she was doing. At times, I felt like I was the virgin little boy
being seduced by her! In fact, that was probably her intention from
the beginning."
"Look, I know what I did. If it had been any other young girl, she
would have been sent home right away with a swat on the backside. I
don't have a taste for children, regardless of how this looks. Brenda
is not an ordinary girl. She is more mature than many of the college
girls I've met. As far as the consequences go, I have thought of
them, both for me and for her."
"I'm not asking you to forgive me, or even to understand what we did.
Please, just give me a little slack until you meet her. That's all
I'm asking. Can you do that for your 'poor brain-dead brother'?"
Richard said that last line with such a sad, woebegone expression,
Caitlin couldn't suppress a small grin. "All right, I won't turn you
in to the cops right away. But you better be on your best behaviour
from now on. No more funny stuff! I'll be watching you like a hawk.
Do you understand me, Richard?"
"I believe so. But I'm not going to make any promises that I won't
keep."
"God, you're totally incorrigible. I don't know what I'm gonna do
with you." She gave out a long sigh. "I guess it's time to get ready
for this dinner. You look terrible. You need another shower and a
proper shave, and you look like you need a nap, too.
"True, I didn't sleep well last night. I kept dreaming about this
perfect little lady I'd met, one who dragged me off to school with her
so she could display me to the class in show and tell."
Caitlin let out a small laugh as she pictured the scene. "Okay
Richard, I think I'll let you live, at least for now. You really
caught me by surprise with that one. I thought I was the only one
carrying around deep dark secrets. Now for the important question -
how should I dress for this dinner. Formal? Casual? Beach?
Slutty? Or maybe you'd prefer Little Girl?"
"None of the above. How about as 'My Grown-up Little Sister'?"
"I'm not sure I've got an outfit for that, but I'll try. Now you go
jump back in the shower before you make us both late! I've still got
to get some of these clothes sorted out."
**********************************************************************
< Mary was now unnecessarily setting the stage for some serious
waterworks. >
< Ouch, that hurt! I can tell, you're peeved. I know when I'm
not wanted any more. You'll miss me when I'm gone. >
**********************************************************************
When Mary walked back into her house, she tried to bring back some of
the bright and cheerful mood she'd had only a few minutes ago. It
didn't do much good. 'I'm just going to have to give Brenda some
warning, that's all.' Mary thought to herself. 'But not yet. Let her
have a few more hours of bliss first. I just hope I'll be able to
keep up a facade that long.'
Will noticed the change as soon as she walked into the kitchen.
Walking up to her, he wrapped both his arms around her and pulled her
into his chest. "What's wrong, honey?"
"I'm not really sure." There was a slight quaver in her voice that
told him she was deep-down upset. She was not telling him the full
truth, that was obvious.
It definitely had something to do with her short trip to Richard's,
and very likely involved Brenda as well. An ugly picture started to
form in the back of his mind, and wouldn't go away.
"Come on dear, give me a hand please. I'd like to get an early start
on dinner." She slid out of his arms and started puttering around the
kitchen. "I think this should be an interesting evening. Oh, and
before I forget, we'll need an extra place setting. Richard will be
bringing someone else with him."
Around 4:30, Mary knew she couldn't put off talking with Brenda any
longer. Her daughter had been breezing around the entire house,
apparently floating around on her own little cloud. Even the taunts
of her younger sister, which normally would earn some smart comebacks,
were ignored. Asking Will to watch things in the kitchen, she went
upstairs to her daughter's bedroom.
"Brenda? Brenda darling, could I talk to you for a minute please?"
"Sure mom. How do I look?"
This was the first time today Mary actually looked at Brenda wearing
her blue outfit. When her dad bought it for her, just after her
last birthday, he said it was for her next 'special occasion'. He
was thinking she would wear it out to a party or some other function
that young girls attached so much importance to. When Brenda modeled
the outfit for her parents and her sister that night, it certainly
didn't look much like it did today.
The blouse and skirt were both blue, a muted, medium shade rather than
something really dark or really flashy, but the fabric itself seemed
to have a lustre coming from deep inside, as though there was a bright
light shining through it from behind. The blouse was made from a
lighter material than the skirt, but both had the same color and
sheen. Neither had any visible print or pattern to them.
The blouse buttoned down the front, and was supposed to tuck into the
skirt. Brenda had done something to the bottom edge, though, because
it ended right at the top of the skirt. When she moved, little bits
of her back, sides, and tummy peeked out between the blouse and the
top of the skirt. It didn't lay flat on top of her breasts. It
puffed over and around them, suggesting the content and shape of her
breasts, but not fully revealing them.
A tiny red porcelain rose had been attached to the collar, just under
the left side of her jaw. A hint of puff was there on each of the
short sleeves, rounding the shoulders and softening the arm line,
making the blouse look far more feminine than it normally would have.
In addition, on the front of the blouse, the seams along the buttons
and the button holes had somehow been 'scalloped', making sure that
the two edges wouldn't lie flat together. There would always be a few
small peepholes for someone to look through. Every once in a while,
as she moved, you could see a tiny bit of the white lacy bra she was
wearing underneath.
The skirt had also been subtly altered. It was now sporting a short
slit up the left thigh that definitely wasn't there before. The
bottom edge of the skirt fluttered and danced every time she moved,
hinting that more could be revealed at any time.
On her legs Brenda was wearing pale blue stockings that disappeared up
under the skirt. Through the new slit, though, you could occasionally
see the top of one stocking and the tiny white bow there. Her
low-heel shoes were also pale blue, and her nails were done in a light
pink. Instead of the usual loose hair or pigtails, her hair had been
pulled back and done up into some sort of complex french braid,
intertwined with a bright blue ribbon. Her ears sported tiny
sparkling blue gemstone earrings.
"Vicky did my hair, " Brenda smiled a little mischievous grin, "in
between her bratty spells."
Mary looked very closely at her daughter as Brenda turned and pranced
in front of her. This was the type of innocent beauty that women all
over the world paid vast sums of money to try and achieve, and rarely
succeeded. The blue ribbon showed off her strawberry blonde hair to
perfection, the muted blue of the blouse somehow brought out the
colours of her pink-red lips and glowing green eyes, and the slit
skirt and stockings formed to her legs and bottom perfectly, making
them look far more sexy than if she were naked.
"Come on mom, how do I look!?"
"Well dear, you look absolutely devastating. I pity any man or boy
who sees you dressed like that. You'd have them reduced to gibbering
simpletons in seconds."
"D'you think Richard will like it too?"
Mary gave a bit of a sigh, and sat down on the edge of Brenda's bed.
"Please dear, come over here and sit down beside me. That's what I
came here to talk to you about. You see, men don't always mean what
they say when they're talking with a pretty girl. Their hormones do
strange things to their brains, sometimes making it impossible for
them to think clearly or logically. Yes, I know we talked about this
last night, that you've finally gotten Richard, but he may not see
that yet. He may still see you as a child, rather than as a woman."
"No mom, Richard and I talked about this several times. He does love
me."
"Dear, I'm not saying that isn't true. All I'm trying to say is that
you shouldn't look at him as yours quite yet. There may be facets of
himself or his life that he's never revealed to any of us."
Suddenly, Vicky stepped in from the doorway. She'd been secretly
listening in on the conversation. "Wanna know a secret? Richard's
already got a girlfriend." She tried to hide her grin behind her
hand, really having fun with this.
Brenda suddenly became very quiet and very serious. "Vicky, how do
you know Richard has a girlfriend?"
Vicky, looking to her mother then back at Brenda, suddenly stopped
grinning. She saw that her sister and mother were very serious, not
taking this as teasing or joking, and it no longer seemed funny.
"I saw her. She got out of a cab with a whole lot of suitcases and
stuff, and the driver carried the stuff down the walkway to Richard's
house. Then she went down there too. Me and mom saw her and Richard
kissing in his place."
Brenda's stomach was starting to tie itself into knots. "Mom?"
"Yes dear, we did see them. She is moving in over there, but no, I
didn't find out anything about her. I told her to make sure Richard
brought her to dinner with him, so we should be able to find out
what's going on real soon. Okay?"
When she didn't get any response, Mary tried again. "I said Okay?"
This time, she got a mumbled uh-huh and a little bit of head
nodding. That would have to do.
"All right, it's getting close to dinner time. You two wash up, then
meet me in the living room to greet our guests. Shoo!" She ushered
them out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom. Mary then
turned and went downstairs to the kitchen to get a much-needed hug
from her husband.
**********************************************************************
A while later, Richard and Caitlin were dressed and ready to go.
They both had opted for a simple look, rather than overdressing.
Richard wore a white patterned dress shirt, open at the neck, a pair
of black dress pants, and black shoes. This showed off his strong
shoulders, broad chest, flat stomach and tight buns to perfection.
Caitlin had also decided to go with a simple black theme. Black
pumps, grey/black nylons, black panties and bra, and a
mid-thigh-length black evening dress. Silver earrings and a hint of
makeup finished off the look.
Richard, taking a good long eyeful, finally realized just how grown
up and good looking his baby sister was now. Three extra years had
done a lot for her. Her breasts and hips had filled out a little, her
stomach was a bit flatter, and her ass looked absolutely gorgeous.
The dress was not tight, but followed all the curves nicely. It
showed off her firm, trim young body beautifully. His cock also
noticed, and he started getting hard again.
"Caitlin, you look absolutely gorgeous."
"Thanks. You're not a bad hunk yourself, you know. But you'd better
watch that thing," glancing at the bulge in his crotch, "that's what's
getting you into trouble, remember?"
Caitlin opened the door and started heading outside. Looking at him
over her shoulder, and giving him a little wink, she added "You know,
if you weren't my big brother, I'd probably make a pass at you."
"Same goes for me, sis. Now, lets go see what kind of trouble I'm
in."
Just before they got to Mary and Will's front door, Caitlin whispered
in Richard's ear. "I'm getting a little scared, how about you?"
"Actually, Caitlin, I'm almost over that now. Being scared stiff all
day has sort of made me a little numb."
When Richard knocked on the door, Caitlin grabbed his arm and hung on
to it for (her) moral support.
**********************************************************************
Up in her room, watching out her window, Vicky saw Richard and the
same girl she'd seen earlier step out from his walkway and head toward
their place. Running down the stairs, she shouted out "Here he comes,
and he's bringing that girl with him!"
"All right, everybody into the living room. Lets greet our guests
properly." Mary started ushering Will and Brenda out of the kitchen
in the right direction.
When they heard the knock on the door, Will was right there to open
it. "Hello Richard. Won't you two please come in?"
As Richard and Caitlin started to step in, Brenda couldn't help
staring. There was HER Richard, walking into HER house, with an
absolutely gorgeous lady hanging onto his arm, less that 48 hours
after promising himself to her forever. After what her mother and
sister told her just a few minutes ago, it was just a bit too much.
The emotions that had been keeping her high since yesterday suddenly
slammed her down. With a long wail, she burst into tears and ran
upstairs into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
This caught everyone by surprise. Will started heading toward the
stairs, but Mary's hand on his arm stopped him.
"No dear, leave her alone for a while. Please."
Turning back to the door and giving Richard a hard look, Mary finally
asked "Well, Richard? Aren't you going to come in and introduce us to
this lovely lady?"
Richard's eyes were glued to the top of the stairs where Brenda
disappeared, and he only half-heard her question. She noticed this,
realizing that regardless of how things looked, he did care for her
little girl.
Mentally pulling himself back together, he stepped into the
living room, Caitlin still hanging onto his arm, and closed the door.
"Caitlin, these are my neighbours, Mary Dawes, her husband Will, their
younger daughter Vicky, and the one that disappeared upstairs is their
older daughter Brenda. Mary, Will, Vicky, this is my baby sister,
Caitlin."
Everything in the room seemed to freeze for a few seconds. Will
simply stood there with a look of concern and confusion on his face,
glancing back and forth between Richard, Caitlin and his wife. Mary
still hadn't told him what was going on. He now had some very strong
suspicions, but she had asked him to let her take the lead in this, so
he didn't say anything.
Vicky's jaw hung open, and she couldn't stop staring at Caitlin.
Caitlin felt this and looked at Vicky, seeing a hint of lust in the
little girl's eyes. She blushed, not really knowing why, and looked
away.
Mary, when what Richard said sank in, felt a sudden release of the
tension that had been gripping her for hours. With a small sigh, her
knees suddenly let go and she sat down on the couch. 'Whew' she
thought. 'That explains a few things. Glad I kept my mouth shut over
there.' Aloud, breaking the silence, "So, this is your baby sister?
You never mentioned anything about her coming out for a visit."
"Actually," Richard replied, "it was a bit of a shock to me as well.
I'd forgotten all about her call a couple of weeks ago, what with all
that was going on around here, and she surprised me this morning."
"Yeah. You should have seen the look on your face when you opened the
door and saw me standing there. I wish I had a picture of that! It
was priceless! Actually, we'd planned on me coming out here in the
fall to go to school, but I decided I'd rather spend the summer here
on the beach than back home. I think it'll be a lot more fun!"
Mary's mind was churning furiously, trying to sort out her thoughts,
and figuring out what she should do to get things straightened out.
She decided.
"Will, why don't you take Vicky and Caitlin into the kitchen and get
them something to drink. You can check on dinner while you're there.
I'd like to chat with Richard for a few minutes."
Will looked questioningly at his wife. "Ok, but what about ..."
glancing up the stairs.
"I think Brenda should be left alone for a little while. It'll be
better this way."
With that, her husband ushered Vicky and Caitlin off toward the
kitchen, making certain he closed the door behind him. This gave his
wife the privacy that she had hinted at needing for her chat. He
didn't know what was happening, but if Richard was in any way hurting
his daughter, he'd rip the bastard apart with his bare hands.
Richard sat on the opposite end of the couch from Mary, and simply
waited. The reactions of Mary and Brenda had gotten him very
confused. When he'd seen the look of pain in Brenda's eyes just
before she ran upstairs, it had surprised and deeply hurt him.
"Richard, I'd like to start by apologizing to you."
"Huh?" Talk about a brilliant response.
"When I went over to your place to tell you when to come for dinner,
I got hit with a rather nasty shock. After what Brenda said happened
yesterday, I suddenly find a beautiful young lady moving in with you.
I jumped to the obvious conclusion that you'd lied to Brenda and had a
girlfriend moving in. I'm sorry."
Richard sat there for a few seconds, letting this soak in. Mary
didn't seem to be upset about what he and her daughter had done. Even
stranger, she was apologizing to him for doubting him. It took a few
seconds for this to register properly.
Clearing his throat before saying anything, Richard paused for a few
more seconds to consider his words. "I don't think there's much to
apologize for. Looking at it like that, I'm not sure I wouldn't have
thought the same thing. I didn't have any time to consider other
people's reactions to my sister moving in, since it was such a
surprise."
"Well anyway, Richard, that's what's wrong with Brenda. She thinks
you lied to her. When we're finished our talk, I think you'd better
go up and see her. I think she needs you."
"One thing I do need to know is how you feel about my daughter."
"Actually, Mary, I love her." That was it. He'd managed to say it.
She actually smiled a bit!
"Okay, so how do you feel about what happened last night?" She was
not going to let him have time to think about it. She wanted an
honest answer, not a 'correct' one.
"I'm not sorry that it happened, if that's what you're asking. It's
the consequences that have been haunting my mind all day."
"Were you speaking the truth in everything you told her?"
"Every word. I don't think I could lie to her even if I wanted to."
"Good. No, I'm not upset about what happened. We've discussed this
before. As long as you don't hurt my daughter, my husband and I will
trust the two of you together." With that, Mary gave Richard another
little smile. "She's really much more mature than you would believe
for a person of her age. Actually, I'm kind of happy with her
choice. She could have done much worse. The age difference is a
problem, but we can talk about that another time."
Richard sat there for a few more seconds, feeling a bit stunned,
having a hard time absorbing all this. Not only was Mary not mad at
him, but she seemed to approve of what Brenda and he had done! It was
one thing for them to talk about it before the fact, but now, after
what the two of them had done last night, it seemed very odd to hear
Mary's acceptance.
"Mary, Brenda is only thirteen. Don't you think that's just a little
too young for making decisions like this? And me, I'm almost twice
her age!" He could hardly believe that he was arguing against Mary
letting Brenda and him continue on. This had to be brought up again,
though, for his own peace of mind.
"That's true, Richard, and it will be a problem for quite some time.
As for Brenda choosing at thirteen, that's not all that young for our
family. Remember, I chose Will when I was eleven. I haven't told you
this yet, but my mother was married at fifteen, and my sister picked
out her future husband when she was fourteen."
"I know exactly how Brenda feels, because all the women in my family,
except Vicky, have been through the same thing. I will not be the one
to break her heart by standing in her way."
"What I do want to know now is exactly how you feel about all this,
and whether or not you think you can handle it. If you can't handle
it, or you aren't willing to go through with this for the long term,
now is the time to break it off, before things go too far. I'll give
you a couple of minutes to think it over."
With that, Mary got up and went into the kitchen. Things were fairly
quiet in there, with Will and Caitlin involved in polite conversation,
and Vicky listening to them, watching the other girl intently. They
both became silent as she walked in. Will looked at her
questioningly, and she answered back with a slight shake of her head.
After helping herself to a glass of water, she did a quick check on
dinner, more out of a need to do something with her hands than
anything else. Everything was doing fine. Will and Caitlin resumed
their conversation when it became apparent that Mary wasn't going to
say anything, and wasn't really paying any attention to them. After a
very long couple of minutes, Mary went out to the living room and sat
back down on the couch.
Richard waited for Mary to get comfortable before he started, speaking
slowly and carefully. "Mary, I said that I love Brenda. I do. I
want to make her happy. I will be hers for as long as she wants me.
I don't know what kind of person this makes me, but I have fallen
completely in love with your daughter."
"Good. I'm glad you spoke from your heart, rather than trying to do
the right thing. You'd better go up and see her. Right now she
probably wishes she were dead, and maybe you too. She needs you."
"Mary, before I go, I better warn you that I told my sister
everything. She's a little freaked right now, and I'm surprised that
she actually came over."
"It sounds like your sister cares about you. I'll talk with her as
well."
Mary stood up and pulled Richard up after her. Shooing him off toward
the stairs, she told him that he'd better go upstairs and see to his
lady.
Giving out a long sigh, really happy with the way her chat with
Richard turned out, Mary mentally braced herself for her next talk,
one that she knew she couldn't put off. Stepping into the kitchen,
receiving the same questioning glance from her husband, and giving him
the same slight negative, she asked Caitlin to come into the living
room for a couple of minutes. Will gave his wife a short, very
intense questioning look. Mary stepped out into the living room,
preceding Caitlin, without giving him any kind of reply.
Will turned to his youngest daughter, being the only other person left
in the kitchen. "Well Vicky? Do you know anything about this, or are
you just as much in the dark as I am?" Vicky just sat there and
shrugged her shoulders, afraid to tell him what she thought she knew.
She just stared at her drink, fighting her feelings, and wondering why
her thoughts kept returning to the memory of how Caitlin looked when
she stood in the doorway.
Out in the living room, after sitting down on the couch, Caitlin
looked around for her brother, and, not seeing him, asked Mary where
he had gone.
"He's gone upstairs to talk with Brenda. It will be quite a relief
for her to learn that you're Richard's sister." Caitlin looked at
Mary, looking slightly confused. "By the way, he also told me that
he's talked with you about what he and Brenda did last night."
A few seconds later, Caitlin found her voice again, and asked in a
very quiet voice "You know what happened, and you still let Richard go
up to her? In her bedroom? Him, alone, with your daughter?"
"Yes. Right now Brenda needs him. I doubt anything would happen up
there anyway. She prefers doing things on her own terms. When Brenda
told me that she'd gotten Richard, I was quite surprised. I simply
wasn't expecting it to happen this soon. I do know how Brenda feels
though, I felt the same way the moment I first laid eyes on my future
husband. Of course, I was a lot younger - all of ten at the time.
Will still doesn't know about all the things I did to make certain he
would be mine."
"Are you telling me that you expect Richard and your daughter to
continue this relationship? I mean, they were having sex!"
Caitlin was becoming more and more confused.
"If Brenda has anything to say about it, their relationship will
continue and grow, with all that implies. She's told me that she is
completely in love with Richard, and Richard has told both her and me
that he loves her." She looked hard at Caitlin. "If anything were to
pull them apart, it would break Brenda's heart, and probably Richard's
as well. I'm not about to let that happen. I care too much about
them both. I'm not certain how you feel about Richard, but separating
them would hurt them both terribly. I truly hope that you can
understand this, and at least wait for a while before doing anything
rash."
Caitlin took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves before replying.
"This has been a bit of a shock to me, coming out here and finding
that my brother is now involved with a thirteen year old girl. I
don't know what to think. No, I'm not going to do anything drastic
like calling the police. I don't think I can approve of this the same
way you seem to, but I won't stop it. I just hope this doesn't end in
disaster. I've had enough of that already."
Mary, surprised at the strength of feeling she heard in that last
sentence, decided not to follow up on it. Maybe later. "Okay, I'll
accept that." They both got up and headed for the kitchen. "Now, I
think I'd better put my husband out of his misery. He's probably
guessed what's going on, but he's agreed to let me handle things my
way for now."
"You mean he doesn't know about this? Oh my god."
"It'll be ok. Just be quiet and let me handle things." Her talk with
Caitlin had gone far more smoothly and quickly than Mary had expected.
Things were looking much better.
They both walked into the kitchen. Vicky was sitting at the table
sipping on her drink and Will was fiddling around with the food on the
stove. He turned around when they came in and looked at his wife.
She looked a lot better now than she had a while ago - most of the
tension was gone, and she had an almost smug look on her face.
Apparently, things were working out according to her plans. He just
wished he knew what they were.
"So, is dinner ready yet, honey?"
"It's been ready for a few minutes. Now all we need are enough people
in the kitchen to make it worth sitting down to eat."
"Okay, thanks dear. Vicky, do you think you could help Caitlin set
the table and get dinner served up? Your father and I need a few
minutes alone. Thanks dear, I knew you wouldn't mind. Come on
honey." Mary turned and walked back into the living room without
waiting for anybody else to say anything. Will just looked at Vicky
and Caitlin with a raised eyebrow and followed his wife out the door.
They sat on the couch facing each other, while Mary explained
everything that had happened, and what she expected to happen. Will
sat quietly through the whole thing, not interrupting, not saying
anything. When she was done, she sat silently, waiting for his
response. It wasn't quite what she'd expected.
Will leaned over and gave her a kiss, then said "OK honey, I'll trust
you on this. I remember a bit of what you went through. But if
anything goes wrong, there'll be hell to pay." He gave a bit of a
chuckle. "So, she got to him already. We seem to be a very
passionate family, don't we?"
This last sentence was a little confusing to Mary. It was a little
out of character for her husband. She decided to ignore it for now.
**********************************************************************
<< End of chapter 3>>
Next chapter - making up, torture, a two sister surprise,
a guilt trip, their second time
(Sounds like a good excuse for a nice, long session of making up. But
what's this with Vicky and Caitlin. Is there something else
going on we should know about? Maybe some of that history Brenda had
hinted at? No sex again, but then, I write stories with real people
in them, all for my own amusement. If it wasn't for the story, I
wouldn't bother, and you wouldn't get the good bits. So there.
Nyaaah. There's lots of good bits coming though.)
[continues]
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