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To Please an Old Man (MF Rom)
by Varangian (kesper@nls.net) 
Date: 2/00 1

***

I was approaching sixty years of age, and I still felt like a young
man.  I was trim and fit, although one could tell that I was old from
the carefulness of my gait and the worn quality of my face.  The
problem was that I was attracted to younger women, much younger.  If
truth be told, I thought that girls from twelve to fourteen were the
most beautiful females.  But, of course, such girls were out of the
question.  Besides, they were highly illegal.

The problem was, how could a guy my age attract a young woman of
eighteen or a little older?  Renting a prostitute was one
possibility, but that was not what I wanted.  I had tried it many
times.  A guy just cannot go down on a whore, or even kiss one.

I had come into a bit of money, much more than I could possibly
spend, considering the way I lived, but certainly enough to support a
woman.  The problem of finding a young woman,  however, perplexed me.
A thought then came to me one morning in the shower as I washed my
hair with my eyes closed.  It was an idea that at first seemed
absolutely ridiculous, but upon reflection it made perfect sense; I
would advertise for a girl.

In the city where I lived there was one of those alternative
newspapers that come out once a week, a paper that contained some
muckraking news articles but which was mostly filled with stories and
ads about jazz concerts, nightlife and restaurants.  It was a
publication that appealed to the younger crowd, and every week there
were several pages of personal notices:  men seeking men, women
seeking women, men seeking women, and so on.

That same day I placed an ad of my own, which read: "Free college
education (tuition and living expenses) for a girl who can please an
old man."  I really didn't expect any response, but within a couple
of days nineteen females and three males answered my advertisement.
I set a schedule for interviewing them, chortling at first in
delight.  I looked forward to marvelous fun.

* * *

On the first day I interviewed seven young women in turn, girls who
seemed to have been out of high school for two or three years.  In
some ways they were a varied lot -- whiny, snotty, stupid, obese and
ugly.  But they were uniformly sloppy in their dress and their
language, and none of them had the least sense of humor.  One of them
was a gaunt creature who appeared to be dissipated and diseased.  I
worried about her sitting on my furniture.  I dismissed each of them
quickly.

The next morning my first interviewee was a Miss Alice Farnsworth,
who appeared on my porch at about ten.  She was a pretty blond woman
who tried to look younger by sporting a pony tail, although it was
obvious to me that she was in her late twenties.  She was tastefully
attired in a skirt and jacket.

"Good morning, Mr. Berghoff," she said cheerfully with a large smile.
"Isn't it a splendid Spring day?"

"Yes, indeed, Miss Farnsworth.  It promises to be warm this
afternoon.  Please come in."

The woman entered my living room and looked about slowly, as if she
were cataloguing my possessions.  I was wary of this one, because she
was too grown up, too self assured.  She was clearly out of place in
my silly game.  Why would a woman like this respond to my
advertisement, unless, of course, she were a cop?  For safety's sake
that is what I assumed, and so I intended to get rid of her
gracefully but quickly.

"Please be seated, Miss Farnsworth," I offered, extending my arm
toward a couch.  She sat and so did I.  A full cushion width
separated us.

"Are you perhaps interested in graduate work?" I began pointedly.

"Oh, Mr. Berghoff! That's the most delightful little sculpture on
your mantel," she enthused, getting up and going to inspect it.

She quickly returned and sat again on the couch, but very close to
me.  Our knees almost touched and I detected the slight aroma of
lilac.  She gazed at me seductively.

"Mr. Berghoff, the most intriguing and charming part of your notice
in the paper was the expression 'to please an old man.'  Could you
elaborate on that?"

"Well, Miss Farnsworth," I replied, getting up from the couch, "I can
be pleased in so many ways that it would take an age to list them."

"But surely you had something specific in mind," she insisted,
cocking her head cutely and giving me a sweet smile.

"No, no Miss Farnsworth.  It was just an expression.  I'm a lonely
old man, and what I need is for a young person to live with me, to do
chores and cooking and be generally pleasant.  That would make me
happy."

"Surely, Mr. Berghoff, you are not so old."  She rose and stood very
close to me.  "Perhaps you would encourage your house companion to
be, shall we say, more friendly with the promise of additional
gifts."

"Miss Farnsworth!  I'm offended by your suggestion.  I'm a deeply
religious, Christian man, and I have remained faithful to my late
wife.  What you are intimating is obscene.  I don't need you or
anyone else as a prostitute.  Please leave."

The woman's face turned beet red.  She grabbed her purse from the
coffee table and stormed out of the house without a further word.
She was furious.

I almost skipped to the kitchen to pour myself a drink, despite the
early hour.  I had enjoyed such great fun that morning.

* * *

After lunch two guys showed up, one after the other. The first was a
Latino, gigolo type with a thin mustache and bad teeth.  The other
one was a large, beefy brute in a Harley Davidson T-shirt with his
hair in a pigtail and his arms festooned with tattoos.  I did not let
either of them into the house.

The next day I interviewed eight variously fat and homely young women
and one scrawny tike who seemed to be high on something.  Listening
to their banal stories was the purest tedium, and I did not
appreciate the leer of a grotesquely obese twenty year old.  The
entire experience had ceased to be fun, until the door bell rang in
the early afternoon.

"Hi, I'm Jimmy," the pretty boy said shyly with a queerish lilt.  He
was clad in brief shorts and a garment around his chest that left his
midriff bare.  His body was stunning -- soft looking, hairless and
shapely.  For a moment I was fascinated by his exposed belly button.

"Are you old enough to be here?" I asked, because he appeared to be
no more than fourteen.

"I'm eighteen, Mr. Berghoff.  Do you find me pretty?"

I let him into the house and even gave him a Coke.  The boy was very
intriguing.  He had girlish legs which he splayed in front of him as
he sat on the couch.  His blond, androgynous head was absolutely
adorable.

"Jimmy," I said, ogling the lovely creature, "I advertised for a
girl."

"I will be as sweet to you as any girl," he simpered.  "And I have a
very slender cock that can fit easily into tight places."

I had never had a guy, much less a beautiful boy, and I was for a
moment tempted.

"No," I said to him reluctantly, briefly touching his hairless thigh
high up.  "No, I really want a girl."

"Why don't you try me out?" he replied with a sly look.  "I can stay
the night."

"Jimmy, I'm looking for a girl. I don't want you."

"Tommy," the boy purred, moving close to me on the couch.  "You
certainly want me, but you're too afraid to take me."

The boy then put his arms around my neck and kissed my lips as if he
were a girl.  It was electric, and I must admit that I palmed his
crotch as I kissed him back.

"No, no, this is not what I had in mind," I stuttered, breaking the
kiss.

"Please, Tommy, let me stay the night.  I'll make you so happy."

"No!" I insisted and stood up.  "Please go now."

The boy relented and got up from the couch.  I followed him to the
front door, unable to resist touching the alluring flesh of his bare
shoulder.

"If you change your mind, you can reach me here," he said at the open
door, handing me a card that he retrieved from somewhere.  Then he
was gone.

I leaned my back against the closed door, wondering whether I had
rejected a unique, magic experience.  I then looked at the business
card.  It was for an escort service.

* * *

It may seem improbable, but it happened in this way; the two girls
who were at all appealing to me came to my front door last.  Marion
was a lovely young woman of about twenty who had raven hair and a
little, pale face.  She was small and slender, looking much like a
waif in her tattered jeans and faded blouse.  Jackpot! I thought.

"Yes, I'm Thomas Berghoff," I replied, when she introduced herself
and inquired about me, her eyes open wide and her mouth agape.
"Won't you come in?"

I held the screen door open for her, but she was reluctant to enter
the house.  "Could we talk out here on the porch?" she asked
nervously, suddenly blushing.

"Yes, of course," I replied.  "Would you care for something to drink?
A Coke, perhaps."

"No thank you," she said as she shuffled her feet and avoided looking
at me.

I waved her to a chair on my large, old-fashioned porch and sat down
on another nearby.

"You appear to be rather uncertain about all of this," I remarked.
"I know that the situation is unusual.  Perhaps you have changed your
mind."

"No, no," she stuttered.  "We want to go ahead with this."

"We?"

"My boyfriend thinks that if I would agree, you know, to 'be' with
you, that we could afford to buy a new car."

Her words deflated me and I felt rather shabby.  In the opinion of
this pretty young woman and her pimp of a boyfriend I was just a
john.  My quest had turned into a debacle, and I fervently regretted
having undertaken it.  I scolded myself for having been so stupid.

"Marion," I said as I rose from my chair, "I've already chosen a
candidate for the position.  I'm sorry to disappoint you and your
boyfriend."

The girl smiled for the first time, a radiant grin that brightened
her face.  She got up from the chair and backed away from me toward
the stairs.

"That's all right, Mr. Berghoff," she chirped in a cheerful voice. "I
don't mind."

She left the porch quickly and literally skipped down the sidewalk.
I sat down again and slumped in the chair, realizing that I was a
foolish old man.

* * *

"Hello?"

The soft voice startled me from my snooze on the front porch.

"Are you Mr. Thomas Berghoff?"

She was a fresh looking blonde girl, perhaps as tall as I, and
certainly not skinny, although she had small breasts.  She stood on
the walk at the foot of the porch stairs looking up at me with an
expression of anticipation.

"Yes, yes," I stammered, still groggy from sleep.

"I'm Beth, Beth Carpesi," the girl said with a pleasant smile.  "I'm
here about your ad in the Free Times."

I suppose one could say that she was good looking, although she had
just an ordinary, plain face.  But there was a brightness about her
that is hard to describe -- a liveliness in her facial expression, a
sparkle in her eyes.

"Oh, well, Miss Carpesi, that ad is no longer valid.  I've changed my
mind."

A sadness swept her face like a sudden storm.  "I was really hoping
for, for a chance."  she said plaintively, her pretty blue eyes
tearing.  "I really want to go to college."

It was not a game with her as it had been for me, I suddenly
realized.  The girl was actually there for a scholarship interview.

"How old are you, Beth?" I asked, my interest in the silly project
again revived.

"I'll be eighteen in three days," she responded shyly, although she
looked straight at me.

She was a lovely girl, I thought, a very lovely girl.  "Let's talk
about college, Beth.  Come up on the porch and take a seat."

* * *

"And they kept moving me about.  I never spent more than two years
with a family," the girl said with a hint of bitterness in her voice
as she described her life in foster care since the age of six.  It
was amazing and delightful, the way she expressed herself when she
was on to a topic.  Her entire face became engaged, and her lips
formed around each word in an almost exaggerated manner.  She was
adorable.  We talked for almost an hour, on the porch and then inside
the house, in the living room where we sat together on the couch.
She sipped a Coke and I a vodka on ice.

Beth was so full of energy and enthusiasm as she talked about her
hoped-for future.  She was still a high school student who would
graduate in six weeks.  Whenever she mentioned going to college, she
looked at me shyly.  Had she read the entire ad, I wondered, or was
she simply a total naif?

"Beth," I interrupted the girl as she went on about wanting to become
a doctor.  "Beth, I'll send you to college, to the State University
downtown."

The girl stared at me, surprised by her victory, her mouth and eyes
widely open.  She sniffled but stopped short of sobbing in relief.
"Thank you, Mr. Berghoff.  Oh, thank you so much.  I'll study hard
and get good grades and I'm sure that I'll please you."

I almost burst out in laughter.  The sweet kid was impossibly
innocent.

* * *

Beth came to visit me almost every day after our initial meeting.  We
became friends.  I attended her graduation ceremony and patiently
endured the tedium of it.  I was the only one there for her, because
her current foster parents, whom she detested, could not be bothered.
I shouted and made foolish sounds, when her name was announced and
she stepped up to get her diploma, and no one thought ill of it,
because everyone was making the same noise, when their own precious
person came forth onto the stage.  Afterwards I took the girl to a
very fine restaurant.

"May I live with you for the Summer, Mr. Berghoff, until I start
college?" Beth asked after the waiter left with our order.

She noticed my perplexity and added, " I really hate it with the
Jacobsens, and they don't want me."

I could not imagine anyone not wanting that lovely girl.  "Yes, of
course," I replied with perhaps too much enthusiasm.  "I have plenty
of room."

"I'll clean and cook for you," she announced with a most magnificent
smile, her voice full of excitement.

"You won't have to do that, Beth.  I've been doing those jobs for
years, since my wife died."

"I want to," she replied stubbornly, looking into my face intently.
"In fact, I'd rather live with you than stay in the dorm during the
school year."

"Why is that, Beth?  Why would want to live with a stranger?"

"You're no longer a stranger to me, Mr. Berghoff, although I've known
you for less than two months."  She stared at her clasped hands and
seemed to weep.  "I don't have a family," she eventually said,
looking at me with teary eyes, "and you're the only person who has
ever been nice to me."

* * *

Half way through her initial semester at the university Beth called
me "daddy" for the first time.  I was startled and delighted by the
sound of it.

She said, "I got an A in math today, daddy.  Does that please you?"

"Yes, Beth, and you have been a pleasure to me for the past six
months."

My throat ached at that moment.  I wanted to embrace the girl,
chastely, as a father.  She understood and stood close to me, our
bodies almost touching.  It happened so quickly, so unrehearsed.  We
fell into each other's arms.  Beth sobbed a cry into my ear, and I
almost began to bawl like a boy who has just found his lost family.
She was as tall as I, so I did not have to lower my head to lick on
her teary cheek.

"I want to be your daddy," I whispered into her ear.

"You already are, silly," she replied, giggling happily like a little
girl.

* * *

Helga was a waitress at a diner I frequented occasionally in
the morning, when I awoke too early.  Her body was a bit meager, but
she had a remarkably pretty face for a fifty year old woman.  She
called me "honey" and "sweetie" as she did every other male customer,
but with me she sought eye contact.

"You don't come in here often enough, Tom," she said one morning at
six o'clock as she sat opposite me in the booth in the nearly empty
diner.

"I don't normally get up so early," I replied.  "My daughter usually
fixes my breakfast."

"Well, Tom, I'd like to fix your breakfast some Sunday morning," she
responded with a leer.

"A near Sunday or one further on?"

"How about this coming Sunday?" she said, grasping my hand on the
table top.  "Take me dancing Saturday night and I'll leave you hungry
for breakfast."

I hadn't fucked in almost a year, and it was possible that she hadn't
either.

* * *

It was a splendid date.  We went to a place I knew that attracted an
older crowd and the band played sweet music that one could dance to
in a slow fashion, as when we were kids.

"This is the first real date for me since my divorce," she murmured
into my ear as we moved together on the dance floor.

"You smell so nice," I responded, holding her close to me.

"Are you going to take advantage of a lonely, older woman?" she
chided playfully.

"Wasn't that the plan?"

"Yes, of course, Tommy, but let's pretend that it happens
spontaneously."

We left the restaurant early, eager for the main course at her house.
As we drove there the slight woman snuggled to me and I put my arm
around her shoulders.  I was as excited as a young boy looking
forward to a guaranteed fuck.

There was no light on inside as we entered the front door.  Helga led
me by the hand through the utter blackness of the living room and
then up the stairs.

"Let's do it in the dark, Tommy, and pretend that we're kids again."

There was no drama in what we did after we were naked on the bed, nor
much romance or passion.  We talked like adults quite calmly about
how we wanted to be pleasured.

"I haven't been licked upon in years," she told me, and so I obliged
her like a professional, expertly but without enthusiasm.

She flailed about, groaned and eventually screamed briefly as I
lapped my tongue on her sensitive part.

"Oh, that was so sweet of you, Big Guy," she said with the sound of a
smile in the dark.  "Do you want me to blow you now?"

"No," I replied, "I was hoping for a slow fuck."

"Do it, baby.  Enjoy my body, but promise to kiss me when you come."

I climbed atop the woman whose knees were raised high and spread
widely.  I found her wet opening and pressed in easily.

"Ahh, that feels so nice," she sighed as I pushed all the way into
her.

Indeed, it felt nice!  It was absolutely marvelous.

"Don't think about me, Darling.  Take your pleasure.  I've already
had mine."

I moved my cock in and out of her wet tightness slowly, relishing the
magnificent sensation.  I wanted it to last.

"Dream of the most beautiful girl, Tommy, but don't forget to kiss me
at the end."

The image of Beth came to mind behind my closed eyelids -- her
expressive smile, her sparkling blue eyes.  Her face was beneath me
as I fucked, urging me on with an impish grin.  I indulged myself in
the fantasy as my cock became unruly and threatened to spit.

"Oh, my darling baby," I cried in ecstasy.

Helga pulled my head to hers and we kissed as I emptied myself
convulsively.

* * *

"Where were you, Daddy?" Beth complained as I came through the back
door at seven in the morning.  "I couldn't sleep, and I almost called
the police."

"You know that I was on a date," I replied perhaps too brusquely.

"You spent the night with her," she stated with a frown.

"I'm a grown up person," I replied, resenting her disapproval.

"Why do you need another woman?" she screamed at me and then ran from
the kitchen to her room upstairs.

For a moment I could not understand her behavior, her bitter anger.
But then of course I did, and the realization that Beth was jealous
left me weak and woozy, because it suggested, perhaps, that she saw
me as more than a father, that she considered herself to be my woman.

* * *

After that morning we avoided mentioning what I had done, and we
continued our placid routine until school ended for the year.  I did
not date Helga again, nor did I return to the diner where she worked.

I had bought a lake side cabin in northern Michigan where Beth and I
planned to spend the Summer.  We were both eager for the vacation,
and were in a very jolly mood as I drove up I75 north of Midland, at
last just an hour away from the lake.  The girl grew tired and rested
her precious head against my shoulder as she slept, which made me
feel very warm inside.

I loved her so much, and I desired her physically to the exclusion of
any other creature.  But she was my sweet daughter, and I dared not
touch her for my own peace of mind.  I knew that she, in her innocent
love of me, would have me as a lover, but I feared that the outcome
might somehow turn ugly, and I dreaded the possibility that I would
lose the girl forever.

"Daddy! The place is full of dust and cobwebs," Beth exclaimed as we
opened the door of the small cabin and went inside.  "Go sleep in the
car while I clean this up," she ordered.  "You must be very tired
after that long drive."

I was in fact too sleepy to focus my mind, so I lowered the back of
the passenger's seat in front and fell quickly to oblivion.

"Daddy, Daddy," the sweet voice roused me from my slumber.  "Supper's
ready."

I opened my eyes and looked into Beth's lovely face staring back at
me in adoration.  I got out of the car and stretched broadly,
breathing deeply the scent of the cedar forest and the aroma of the
lake.

"Isn't this splendid," I said to my girl, embracing her lightly.

"The water is quite warm," she replied.  "Let's eat and then go
swimming."

She had grilled a couple of hamburgers, which we ate hurriedly,
because outside the light was fading quickly.  It was twilight, when
we went onto the beach.  A few lights flickered from the far side of
the lake, but near us it was all dark forest.

Beth's swim attire was not at all provocative, but her glorious limbs
were sexually arousing.  The sight of them hurt me profoundly; I
ached in desire.  I felt better when the light in the sky escaped
totally and we splashed in the warm water near the shore.  We played
like kids in the dark for a while.

The pain resumed when Beth embraced me.  We were half immersed in the
lake.  She kissed my lips sweetly.

"Daddy," she whispered into my face, "may I call you Tommy?"

"Darling, I'm an old fashioned guy," I struggled to respond.  "To me
it seems somehow wrong to call your daddy by his first name."

"But Daddy, you aren't really my daddy," she replied astutely.  "We
met only a year ago."

"Fourteen months," I  corrected the girl.

"I want you to be more than my daddy, because being a daddy prevents
you from becoming my teacher."

"Your teacher? Of what subject?" I asked in bewilderment.

"Sex," she replied in an exaggerated whisper.  "I've never done it,
although my boyfriend and I in the eleventh grade once did some heavy
petting."

"Once?"

"Ya, at a drive in movie.  We groped each other pretty seriously,
although, of course, we never got naked."

"Beth, you are a truly sweet girl, and you know that I love you more
than life itself.  But you're talking stupid.   I can't have sex with
you.  I can't even imagine it, because you're my little girl, my
daughter."

"I'm not your daughter, Tommy, and you know it," she replied sternly,
"although you're the sweetest person in my life."

"Darling," I protested, "you don't know what you are talking about.
You're just a little girl."

"Damn it, Tommy! I'm twenty years old and I'm very intelligent.  I
want to go to bed with you and have you hurt me in a gentle way.  I'm
still a virgin."

We were standing waist deep in the warm water of the lake, but the
chill night air shivered our upper bodies.

"I desire you, Beth. You can't comprehend how much I lust for you.
But I'm ashamed of it and I feel like a pervert."

"You're talking like a stupid old man, Tom.  We love each other, and
I'm certainly beyond chaste kisses.  Do you want me to take up with a
boy at school?  Maybe a smug football player or a suave would-be
intellectual?  Perhaps one of the professors?"

I could not respond to the young woman, who was almost ranting.
"Let's go back to the cabin," I suggested.  "It's getting a bit cold
out here."

"Yes!  I'll go back to the cabin, but only if you promise to love me
tonight."

I stared dumbly at the girl, wanting her desperately, yet also
desiring to slip my head beneath the water to escape reality.

"Tommy!" she cried in frustration as she pounded on my shoulders with
her fists.

* * *

I relented.  I could not resist her eagerness and my lust.  We stood
next to my bed in the cabin looking at each other nervously,
uncertain how to begin.  We had already kissed passionately a couple
of times, but I had not yet even touched her breasts.  She waited
passively for me to take charge, but I stood motionless, close to
her, almost in a panic, and gazed at her loveliness.

Beth looked at me with an anxious, expectant face, wanting me to move
on her.

"Please," she said in exasperation, staring at me.

Something in my head then clicked on, or, perhaps, off, because I
suddenly felt a release, a divine permission to take the young woman.
I embraced her gently with a great sigh and Beth uttered a small
noise as she realized what was at last beginning.

"You know that I could give you a baby, if you weren't on the pill,"
I said softly as I sucked an earlobe.

'Perhaps you shall someday, darling, but not tonight, although it
would be so sweet for you to impregnate me on my virgin turn."

With my arms around her I undid her bra and then stepped back a bit,
allowing it to fall to the floor.  Her modest breasts clung tightly
to her chest without the least sag.  I covered them both with my
hands possessively and looked into her face, which had become more
beautiful to me than any that ever existed.

"Lie on the bed," I urged Beth, helping her with my arms.  I leaned
down and pulled off the bottom of her swim suit and then just stood
above the lovely girl for a moment, staring at her naked beauty.  Her
eyes were open wide and her lips slightly parted, revealing the tips
of white, even teeth.  When I took off my swim trunks and stood with
my considerable cock jutting straight out, the girl's face betrayed a
nervous worry.

I laid myself next to the precious creature, whom I then thought of
as my virgin bride.  We kissed with increasing passion.  My free hand
fondled her soft flesh.

"I want to lick on your body, Beth darling. Would that revolt you?"

"You could never revolt me, Tommy," the aroused girl gasped.

I moved my head quickly down her slender body, pausing briefly to
suck each tit and tongue her belly button.  It was like moving in a
dream, seeming to take forever to reach her moist pubic bush, which I
parted with my fingers.

"Oh, God," the girl exclaimed when my tongue first touched her clit.
She was not silent for the next few minutes as I employed all the
experience of my sixty years to lick her to a shuddering, screaming
orgasm, and then another.

Beth whimpered in sexual arousal and anticipation as I raised my body
between her thighs.  I positioned my cock and kissed her lips
passionately when I pushed into her, ripping her, penetrating her
fully as she cried beneath me in pain.  I urged myself to come
quickly.  I would savor the bliss some other time when my darling was
not so distressed, when she could share the joy with me.  I looked
into her anguished face as I squirted my pleasure into her, not
wanting it to end yet eager to cease hurting my beloved girl.

We snuggled like lovers for uncounted minutes, and then, with shirts
on our backs, we waded in the warm lake water, where I washed from
her body the mess I had caused.

* * *

"Daddy." I heard Beth's sweet voice and felt a gentle push on my
shoulder.  "Daddy, wake up."

It was past dawn, although the Sun was still low in the sky.

"You're calling me 'daddy' again?" I inquired, wiping the sleep from
my eyes.

"Ya.  Incest adds an extra punch to our relationship, don't you
think?"

"I suppose," I responded groggily.  I needed another hour of sleep.
My girl was naked beside me on the bed, leaning over me.  Sunshine
shimmered through her blond hair.  Her flesh tones were exciting.  I
pulled her to me gently and suckled a small tit as she fondled my
head.

"How're you feeling?" I asked as I stroked her soft upper arm and
looked into her marvelous, fresh face.

"I'm really sore, Tommy.  You wounded me badly last night."

"I think that we should wait a week or so before we do it again," I
replied as I palmed her young cheek.

"Daddy, will you give me something special?" she asked in an
exaggerated, little girl voice as she squirmed her naked body to
mine.

"Of course, Sweetheart. What is it?"

"I want you to give me a baby, Tom, at least one, although I'd like
two or three."  She was suddenly serious and pressed her nose against
mine.

I knew better than to argue with her.  I had met my match and we
would sort everything out in time.

END