It was one of those rare occasions when I'd been called on to take someone to the bus station, as opposed to the train depot or airport.
It's been my experience that folks that need or want to travel on the Big Gray Dog are usually willing to take public transit to get to the station. In this case, it had been an older couple that were traveling across the country in a series of relatively short hops with a couple of days between trips – the idea being to 'see the country', as they'd expressed it, and they simply didn't want the hassle of trying to get themselves and their luggage on and off a city bus. I was helpful as always, and they gave me a decent tip at the end.
I was pulling out of the station when I saw one of the pimps I knew flagging me down; normally, I'd have pretended not to see him, but two things caused me to go ahead and pull over again: first, it had been a slow day, and the fare would help. Second, it looked like the girl he had with him was younger than most.
I vaguely knew the guy, and knew that he preferred to pick up younger girls that were new to town – particularly if they looked like they weren't in any hurry to get back to where they came from for some reason. I could see that this one fit the bill, since all she had for luggage was an over-stuffed knapsack and a faint look of desperation on her face. What looked like dishwater blonde hair framed a fairly attractive – if smudged – face. The clothes were a little loose and baggy, but there wasn't any reason to doubt she was female, either. She was a few inches shorter than he was, and I already knew that he was a couple inches shorter than me; that put her something a bit under five and a half feet tall.
The pimp, Charley, and the girl hopped into the back seat before I could get out – which I wouldn't have done, anyway, for him. Once the door was closed, he just gave me an intersection for a destination. I recognized it as more-or-less the center of his 'territory', and got us moving that direction.
Now, normally, me and the assorted denizens of the towns underworld, we had an understanding: as long as all that happened in my hack was me taking them from 'A' to 'B' with no conversation or activity, it was cool. But the minute, the second, anybody started 'working', all bets were off: at best, I'd stop and put them out; if provoked, I wasn't above pulling up next to a cop car, rolling down my window, and registering a complaint about whatever was going on in the back.
The latter had happened to Charley a few times; he was one of those folks that just has to push things, for whatever reason. Still, I was surprised when, rather than just sitting back and enjoying the ride, he started trying to hustle her with stories about how he tried to help girls that were new in town.
That lasted a couple of blocks before I finally told him "C'mon, Charley – you know the rules in this rig. No business in the back."
"Aw, Jim, I ain't doin' business with this young lady! I'm just esplainin' to her how I can help her have a care."
"I don't care what you call it, Charley, you're still trying to work her into your stable. Either you stop, or I do."
That was good for maybe another couple of blocks before he started in on her again.
I didn't bother saying anything else to him before I pulled over to the curb and stopped the meter – not coincidentally just a short distance from one of our city's "cop shops". I turned around and asked the girl "How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
"Bullshit. Try again."
"Seventeen."
"Sorry, I'm not going for that one, either. Tell it straight."
"Sixteen – next month."
"That's about what I figured" I said, before turning to Charley and telling him "Charley, Charley, Charley. You know how it works in my rig. I even reminded you, and you still had to push it, didn't you? Well, it looks like I'm going to have to remind you – again! – that I don't fuck around. Out."
He started to fuss, and I interrupted him to say "Save it, Charley. Out – and don't forget the meter, or I might have to wander down the street there and swear out a complaint."
It hadn't escaped Charlie's attention where we were, and I could see the anger and annoyance on his face as he turned to the girl and said "C'mon, honey, we'll get us another ride…"
"No, I think the girl needs to stay, Charley. Unless you want to explain to the guys in uniform why a guy with your rep is in the company of an underage girl?"
The girl looked at me in wonder, and I explained "Charley here, he's a 'player' in town. Runs a string of girls – whores, not to put too fine a point on it. Keeps them in line with crack and beatings. He's also been busted for theft of varying degrees, assault, attempted murder, carrying a concealed weapon, and a few other things. The cops in town, they know him pretty good. Now, if you want to go with him, I'm not going to get in the way. But this is probably the only chance you're going to get to stop a nightmare before it happens. You decide."
She looked back and forth between us for several seconds before making her choice known by scooting away from him.
I could see how pissed Charley was, and he opened his mouth to say something. Before he could speak, though, I told him "Don't bother, Charley. Both of us know you aren't going to do anything; and if there's any trouble from someone else, all I've got to do is tell one of your competitors about why I think the trouble is coming from you. You know damn well that they'll take care of it, rather than have me push it to the cops. So just cough up the money, and be on your way before I start leaning on the horn."
He visibly quailed at the idea that I'd tell the other pimps that he'd caused me trouble: all of them knew that I got around enough to know what was going on in their various 'enterprises'. If I ever got it into my head to have a sit-down talk with the police, there wasn't a one of them that wouldn't suffer because of it. So if he gave me any crap, and I told one of his peers about it, they'd all be after him just to keep me from making trouble for them. And they weren't the kind of folks that would simply slap his wrist, either.
Charley just shut his mouth with a snap, and reached into his pocket to pull out his wad of cash. He peeled off a bill that would cover the fare, tossed it into the front seat, and left – slamming the door hard enough to rock my rig. Hurt my feelings something terrible, it did.
I looked at the girl again, and said "THAT is what he really would have been like, if you'd gone with him. Now, who are you, and what's the story?"
She spared a glance toward the departing Charley, then looked closely into my face before answering "Jill. Jill Nordberg. I… I left home."
"Okay, Jill, just exactly why did you leave home? And when?"
She tilted her head forward and looked at her lap as she told me "I left Tuesday before last. My folks got all upset with me when they found out that me and my boyfriend, Todd, had been… kissing, and touching. They said I was gonna go to Hell for sinning, and get a reputation as bein' easy, and all kinds of stuff like that. Daddy even called me a… a whore, and a harlot. I tried to tell them that I was still a virgin, but they didn't believe me – not after Momma saw me and Todd. We was… we was touching each other, kinda. She said we was perverted, and disgusting. Todd and me, we been boyfriend and girlfriend 'bout long as I can remember; but we're more than that, too – we're friends, if that makes sense. Ain't nothin' either one of us won't talk to the other about. So when I started trying to tell Daddy that we weren't like what him and Momma were sayin', that he was wrong, he hit me."
She lifted her head then, and I could see the anger in her eyes as she told me "I don't mean slapped, either – I mean hit, with his fist, like he'd hit another man! Momma kept him from hittin' me again, but it was close, let me tell you. Then they sent me off to bed after tellin' me they was gonna talk about what to do about me, and Todd. While they was doin' that, I got the stuff that was important to me, and some clothes, and put it all in this rucksack. Then after they went to bed, I went out the window and lit out. I ain't plannin' on ever goin' back, either!"
I sighed to myself, and wondered what it was about religions that made people turn so easily into fanatics. Even if they didn't go around killing others in the name of whatever their God was, they still managed to be a general pain in the ass and screw up (and over!) otherwise reasonable and normal people around them. Calling a young girl like this a 'harlot'? And a 'Sodomite'? Damning her to an eternal hell because she was feeling perfectly normal physical desires, and expressing a completely natural curiosity about sex?
I put those thoughts away in favor of asking her "How much money do you have?"
Suddenly suspicious, she asked "Why?"
Doing my best to stay patient with her, I answered "Relax – I'm not after any of it. I just want to know if you can afford a room someplace reasonable tonight, and maybe something to eat. You're too young for the Women's shelter, or any other place that does charity work. They wouldn't believe you're old enough any more than I did."
Relaxing slightly, she hesitantly told me "I've still got almost ten dollars. There was a few folks that owed me money for babysitting and such, but I didn't want to stay long enough to collect – not after Daddy hit me. I've been buying little bits of stuff in grocery stores, and eating it before it spoils, so as to save money. It cost more than I expected to get here, too. That's why when… Charley?… said he could help, I was willing to go with him. I had no idea he wasn't really tryin' to help me. Where I come from, folks usually try to do right by each other, even in the towns."
The money she had wouldn't even get her a room for an hour in the worst flea-infested dump in town. And now that there wasn't any air circulating in my cab, I could tell that it had been a little too long since the last time she'd cleaned up. Her clothes weren't too dirty, but I suspected that what was in her bag was a lot worse.
I told her "Okay, what I'm going to do first is take you back to my place" – and seeing the expression on her face, I quickly added "Before I go back to work. You can fix yourself something to eat, and take a nap; you look pretty tired. I've got a small washer and dryer combo you can use to wash your clothes, and if you want to, you can take a bath or shower. I've still got to work for another few hours, so you'll be there by yourself – I'm going to trust you not to make a big mess or steal all my stuff while I try to figure out what to do about you. When I finish work and get home, we can talk some more and see if maybe we can't get all this crap straightened out."
I saw a glimmer of fire in her eyes when she told me "I told you: I ain't goin' back there! Not after Daddy hit me, and my folks talked to me like they did!"
I waved my hands at her and said "Okay, fine, you aren't going back there. But while you're getting yourself together at my place, you might want to think a little about what you left behind" before turning around and getting my hack started again.
Once I had us rolling again, she asked "What do you mean, think about what I left behind?"
"I mean just what I said. You told me that you and Todd were boyfriend and girlfriend for as long as you can remember, and that you were friends that told each other pretty much everything. Hell, he's even the one you were with when your mother found you. Isn't he somebody that you want to keep in your life?"
Looking at her in the mirror, I could see the wistful look on her face as she answered "Yeah, he is. Doesn't seem to be a day go by that I don't spend half of it thinking about him."
"Before your mother found you and Todd together, didn't you figure her and your dad loved you?"
"'Course I did. But not now. Not after what they said and done."
"Maybe you need to think on that, too, then. If they didn't love you, do you think they would have given a happy damn about what you did, or with who? Think about the other girls you know; I'd bet one of them thatdoes have a reputation with the boys, and that it's pretty obvious her folks don't care what she does."
She started to get thoughtful on that, but I had a few more things to say to her, starting with "And maybe you need to think a little bit about just what the hell you're going to DO from now on. I don't figure you've even graduated high school; how the hell are you going to make a living? Sure, you might get a job doing hair or nails or something in a salon – but do you really think those folks are getting rich doing that kind of work? Or even happy doing it? And what do you figure to do about your friends you left behind, and all your family? Just going to drop them like a hot rock, and never see or talk to any of them again? Wherever you land at, you're going to be pretty lonely at first, with no real friends or family around you. Even if you find a place you want to settle down, how do you figure to get started? You've got to have money to do damn near anything: get a place to live, feed yourself, or even get a job so that you have money. I don't doubt that you're honest and responsible and all that, and that you do good work at the stuff you know; but what do you know how to do well enough that you can get a paying job at it?"
I could see her watching me in the mirror and said "I'll bet that while you were on the way here, you tried to get some money by going into places to see if there was anything you could do for them."
I could see on her face that I was right, and continued "And I'll bet that every last one of them turned you down, didn't they?"
Her expression was answer enough, and I told her "Know why? A couple of reasons: first, you're obviously too damn young to be looking for regular, full-time work. That tells folks that you're out on your own, and that makes them wonder why, which is a big enough worry for them to turn you down. Second, you even look like you're on the move: it's obvious that everything you own is in that bag. People with jobs aren't going to want to give one to somebody they're afraid is maybe going to skip on them. Anybody that did have some kind of little chore that they could pay you for is going to be afraid of doing anything to help you because of your age – which makes two strikes against you the minute you show up. And even if someone did give you some kind of work like that, you'd run the risk of them not paying you when it was done, anyway; I mean, what would you do? Call the cops on them? Not likely!"
"No", I told her, "you need to stop and really think about what you're doing, and why, just like you did when I told you about Charley. Except the questions aren't as obvious, and the answers aren't in the back of the book. You can do that for a little while at my place, while you're getting yourself cleaned up and fed, and I'm out here."
The rest of the ride to my place was quiet, what with both of us trying to get things worked out in our minds.
As we pulled up in front of my apartment, I told Jill "I hope you don't mind cats. I've got one named Demosthenes, and he likes everybody. If you rub his ears, you'll have a friend for life."
That made her smile before she told me "I had a cat at home. Her name was Princess Pretty Paws, and she always slept on my bed with me."
"Well, if you'll let him, Demosthenes will probably keep you company if you decide to take a nap. Grab your stuff, and come on."
She hesitantly followed me into my apartment, and after I'd shown her where the bathroom, kitchen, and washer/dryer were, I could see that she was surprised at how neat I kept the place. I somehow had the idea that her dad was The Man Of The House, her mother played the role of cook and maid, and Jill didn't have a lot of reason to think a guy could or would deal with his own household needs.
As expected, Demosthenes made an appearance and made his new best friend welcome by stropping her ankles until she picked him up and started rubbing his ears. The resulting purr could be heard across the room.
By the time she was ready to put him back down, she had visibly relaxed and I told her "Okay, I'm heading back to work. You know where everything is, so go ahead and fix yourself something to eat, if you like. There're cold drinks in the fridge, along with a few beers. I'd rather you didn't drink any of them, but I'm not going to fuss at you if you do." I had a look at my watch before adding "I should be back in, oh, three hours, three and a half, tops. I usually don't eat until I've had a chance to relax a little and catch my breath; you're welcome to join me or not – I'm fine with either. Okay?"
She said that it was, and after I'd gone outside and closed the door, I heard her set both of the locks.
Things didn't get any busier for me the rest of my shift, so I had plenty of time to try and figure out some way of helping the kid.
Simply putting her on a bus and sending her home simply wasn't going to happen – there was obviously too much going on there. I knew of a few places that would have been able to help her find a place to stay while she went back to finish high school, and even get some college. The problem was that they were all booked up, and had months-long waiting lists. Anyplace I could think of that could give her any help 'now' wouldn't touch her because of her age; the places where her age wasn't a factor already had more than they could handle.
After trying to find some angle I work it, some small crack I could get my fingertips into, anything that would let me break the situation down into smaller pieces for damn near the rest of my shift, I still couldn't figure anything. I finally admitted to myself that there wasn't any ready solution that didn't involve her going back. That settled, I went to work on trying to come up with a solution at the far end. By the time I was ready to go home, I had a couple of ideas. The one that seemed best was a pretty long shot; the other was less appealing, but looked to be possible. I decided that the one that looked like the better choice was the one to start with, and see if I couldn't try to work things to improve the chances of it happening.
After I let myself in and got the door closed behind me, I turned around to find a young girl standing there that looked appreciably different than the one I'd left a few hours before. Cleaned up and in different clothes, she was a lot cuter than I'd first thought: what had been dark blonde hair in a limp ponytail had turned almost white and hung well past her shoulders in an almost silvery waterfall. Blue eyes that sparkled had replaced the fairly dull orbs that had looked at me before; the baggy clothing had been supplanted by a reasonably nice dress that showed her curves – and she did have them! – to good effect. It also revealed a pair of strong but nicely curved legs.
Smiling, I asked "Excuse me, Miss, but have you seen another girl around here? Her name is Jill…"
She laughed, obviously pleased at my acknowledgment at the change in her appearance. Standing with her hands clasped in front of herself, she told me "Oh, piffle. You know it's me! After I got my stuff washed, and took a shower, I decided I wanted you to see what I really look like. I only had a little snack, and then took a short nap – you were right, I was tired. But while I was doing all that other stuff, I was thinking, too, like you said I needed to. And one of the things that I realized is how nice you've been, and how you're really trying to help me. So I decided that I'd go ahead and wait until you got back and make something to eat for us."
I raised an eyebrow, and she blushed slightly before telling me "I mean, not that I think there's an us, I mean, not that way." Then she realized that I might be offended at being dismissed as unsuitable, somehow, and hurriedly told me "Not that there's anything wrong with you, or anything, or that I don't think you're not a nice person, or…"
I spared her any further embarrassment by interrupting to tell her "It's okay, Jill – I know what you meant. You've been on the road for a while, and just wanted some company for a sit-down meal."
She blushed again, and hesitantly responded "Um, yeah, that's what I meant."
To distract her a bit, I asked "What are you fixing, or planning to fix?"
Visibly relieved to have something else to talk about, she answered "I saw that you had some nice pork chops, so I thought I'd fix those, some green beans, and some potato cubes." Then, worriedly, she asked "Unless you want something else?"
I smiled again, and told her "That sounds pretty good, actually. And thank you for offering to cook; it saves me from having to eat one of my own concoctions, or reheating some leftovers."
That last bit earned me a smile from her before she told me "If you want to go sit down, I'll bring you one of your beers – which I did not drink, by the way."
I laughed, and told her "I'd appreciate that. Thank you" before heading into the living room and parking myself at one end of my couch.
She appeared a moment later, and after handing me the bottle, took a seat at the other end of the couch from me. I could see that she was having an attack of nerves, but figured the best thing I could do was simply act as though everything was perfectly normal. After I'd had a few swallows of my beer, I asked her if Demosthenes had been any trouble while she tried to sleep. She blushed slightly, and said that once she got him to understand that laying on her chest wasn't comfortable for her, everything had been fine. He wasn't what you could call a small cat, and I could understand how having him trying to lay on her breasts would make it difficult to sleep; I simply told her that if she'd managed to get him to behave himself, she was doing better than I ever had. That made her smile, and I told her a story about one of the silly things I'd seen him do. That got a laugh from her, and she told me a story about her cat that made ME laugh. We spent almost all the rest of the time before supper swapping stupid-cat stories.
While she was cooking, I took the opportunity to wash up before going in to see if there was anything I could do to help her. She assured me she was doing fine, but that I could set the table if I wanted. I took my time about it, and the two of us chatted until it was time to eat.
Unsurprisingly, Demosthenes turned up as we sat down. He'd learned not to jump up on the table (after getting sprayed with a water bottle a few times), and simply had too much dignity to outright beg; but he wasn't above simply sitting there and watching us while projecting a telepathic guilt trip that we were eating, and he wasn't. Jill didn't give in to his ploy any more than I did, though I could see that she was tempted a time or two.
After we finished, Jill was willing to let me help clean up the kitchen, but was adamant about doing the dishes herself. I gave in to her wishes easily enough, and after grabbing another beer, went back into the living room.
When she came into the living room some time later, I could see that Jill had lost much of her good humor. She again sat at the opposite end of the couch from me, and said "I guess we have to talk, don't we?"
"Yeah, we do", I agreed. "I spent pretty much all of the last several hours trying to figure a way out of this for you, and I'm sorry to say that there aren't a whole lot of options."
She looked sad as she told me "That's kinda what I figured out, too."
"I can't figure anything that can be done around here to help you – at least, not in anything less than several weeks, not at your age. There might be things that could be done other places, but you'd actually have to go there to find out."
She nodded, and said "And if I went there and they couldn't help, I'd still have the same problem, just in a different place, and after the trouble of getting there."
I agreed, and added "Me, I don't figure it's worth the bother or risk."
She said she didn't either, and I told her "Best I could figure is that the only real solution is to be found back where you came from. The one I think would be your best all around choice seems like a pretty long shot to me: try to work it out with your folks so you can go back home, and then play nice until you ARE ready to go out on your own or with Todd. That way, you'd have a decent place to live, family and friends around, and the chance to finish school under something like normal circumstances. Even if that one pans out, your folks may or may not be willing to let you keep seeing Todd; if they don't, then you'd have to choose between basically sneaking around so you can see him anyway, or letting it go until you're on your own."
"And the other choice?"
"The other thing I thought of could be a whole lot harder on you, and in a different way. But it might be easier on you, and make you happier, too – there's simply no way of telling. And that would be for at least you, and maybe Todd, to get completely out of this particular situation and into another one where you've got more options. The way it looks to me, the less likely the first one becomes, the more certain the second seems."
"What do you mean out of this situation and into another one?"
"I mean that you at least get out of your folks house and go live somewhere else: an aunt and uncle, a cousins, some other family member's place, or even the family of one of your friends. The farther from your folks the better, I think. I don't know the particulars of yours and Todds families and friends, of course, but it occurred to me that if you had to move very far away, it might be possible for Todd to move, too, so that you two don't get broken up. From what you said, it sounded like both of you pretty much figured to get married some day, and I don't know of any reason why that shouldn't be given a chance. But like I said, if you and Todd had to move away, you'd still have each other – which would maybe make it easier, and both of you happy – but you'd likely lose all the friends you have now, and maybe some of your family, which would be the hard part."
"Neither one of them's easy; they're just hard in different ways, and I can see that", she told me, then saying "Like I told you when you got home, I really thought about all this stuff this afternoon. I mean, I'd kinda thought about a lot of it after I left home and was on my way here – but not really putting my mind to it like I did today. What you told me in your cab, you were right. I don't like it, but the truth of the matter is that I am still too young to be trying to make it on my own. As mad and hurt as I am about how Momma and Daddy talked to me, and him hitting me, I've got to admit that they did love me – at least, the way they think of love. And it sure as hell was a lot easier living at home and going to school and such than it's been since I left! Thing is, church and the Bible was what mattered in our house, and I don't know that Momma and Daddy would even have me back. I'd be willing, if they'd have me; I'm just not too sure they would, truth be told. If they told me they didn't want me going out with Todd any more, well, I reckon me and Todd could learn to live with it. I mean, I expect we'd still be able to see each other at school, and we'd just have to learn to live with that."
Both of us sat quietly for several minutes; then Jill told me "I reckon you're right, about the best solution being for me to go back home. I don't much care for it, but it's a load better than NOT doing it. If you think you can help, I'd sure appreciate it."
Knowing that no 'possible' solution would work unless she signed off on it, I'd been waiting for her to decide which way she wanted to go. Hearing her choice, I nodded in acknowledgment and said "Then if you'll give me your folks phone number, I'll call them and see if we can't get you home. If money's tight, I'll pay your bus fare home, and you can pay me back a little at a time, if you like."
She nodded, and got up to get a piece of paper and pencil from the small desk I had. A few moments later, she handed me her home telephone number.
As I started dialing the number, it crossed my mind that with her sitting there, she'd be able to hear my side of the conversation – and pretty much know what was being said on the other side, for good or ill. But I was damned if I was going to treat her like a child by sending her out of the room, either. I finally decided that if she'd had the guts to stand up to her parents, and then take off to try and make it on her own, she deserved to know how things went.
My thoughts on the matter were interrupted by the sound of the distant phone being answered with a woman's polite "Hello?"
I quickly introduced myself, and told her that I was calling about her daughter, Jill.
Much to my surprise, she didn't ask a single question: no 'where is she', no 'is she all right', nothing. All she said was "Jill doesn't live here any longer."
"Yes, Ma'am, I know that. That's what I wanted to speak with you about. I've met Jill, and I was hoping that it would be possible for her, and you and your husband, to work things out."
"Well, I couldn't say anything about that. You'd have to talk to my husband."
"If he's home, could I speak with him, please?"
"Just a moment while I check…"
Several seconds went by before I heard a man's voice say "Hello? Who is this?" in a rather aggressive and demanding tone.
I introduced myself again, and said "Mr. Nordberg, I've met Jill…" only to have him interrupt and say "Jill? She left. Snuck out one night, like a thief. What about her?"
"Yes, sir, I know she left. As I said, I've met her, and after talking to her some, I think she'd like to come home."
"There's no home for her here!" he declared before telling me "We're decent God-fearing folks, mister, and she was caught with a boy. Naked as jaybirds, both of 'em. My wife saw 'em, and told me what they was doin'. Sinning! And not just sinning, but giving in to sins of the flesh – and perverted ones, at that! She ain't nothin' but a painted whore, a Sodomite, livin' in sin and wickedness. A harlot is what she is, and we got no use in this family for such folk, even if she is our blood. We tried to raise her up to believe in the Bible, just like us, but all she is now is a heathen sinner, going straight to the fires of hell and eternal damnation."
Hearing that, I figured that Jill going home was pretty much a lost cause – but I still spent the next hour trying to find out if there wasn't some way that he'd let her back into the house.
The conversation finally ended with him telling me "Mister, me and my missus, we been going to Sunday church near to thirty years, and praying to God for salvation every night. Jill, she done made it plain as day that she ain't worried about the hereafter, and we ain't going to have her sinning ways here in our house of the Lord! She left us, and we don't want her back. If somebody else wants to take her in, that's up to them – but we ain't doin' it."
Hearing that, I asked "If someone IS willing to take her in, would you let them take responsibility for her? Let them be her legal guardian?"
At that, he mellowed enough to tell me "We could do that. It ain't that we don't love her, mister; just that we won't have a sinner in our house. Now you're gonna have to excuse me; I got to get up and go to work in the morning."
"Of course, sir. Thank you for your time. I expect you'll be hearing from someone about becoming Jill's guardians."
"I'll sign whatever papers is needed. Good night."
"And good night to you, sir" I said, hanging up.
When I looked over at her, I could see that Jill had been able to keep up with the conversation. No surprise, really; I had to figure she'd know what her father was likely to say. Still, I could see that she was saddened and hurt that the conversation had gone the way it did: it was all she could do not to burst into tears.
I could only admire the strength of spirit and character that had gotten her that far in life, with the kind of home life she must have had. I put my arm out, and she readily closed the gap between us so that I could comfort her as she quietly cried.
When she was done, she tried to apologize before I simply told her "It's okay. I know it couldn't have been easy for you to hear all that, and that it had to have hurt, even though you told me yourself that you didn't think they'd let you come home. I'm just glad I was here so you'd know that you aren't alone."
At that, she seemed to realize that she was leaning against me, and I had an arm around her. Suddenly nervous and embarrassed, she hesitantly started to move away from me again. I readily took my arm from around her, and she quickly moved to the other end of the couch again.
After she'd dried her tears, I told her "I think it's probably a little late to call anyone else tonight, so I'll do it after I get off work tomorrow. In the mean time, you can be thinking about who might be willing to take you in."
She nodded her agreement and understanding, and then a few moments later asked me "Uh, what about until then?"
"Tomorrow, you can stay here and watch TV or listen to music or read or whatever else you want to do. As for tonight", which was what I knew she was really asking about, "one of us sleeps in there in my bed, and the other one sleeps here. This couch opens into a bed, and there are sheets and everything in the end tables. If it would make you feel better, there's a lock on the bedroom door and you can sleep in there; you'll have your own bathroom, too, so you won't have to come out until you want to. I've slept on this thing often enough that it won't bother me in the slightest."
Reassured that she'd have her own place to sleep, Jill told me "No, you go ahead and sleep in your own bed. You're the one that has to go out and work tomorrow. There's no need to bother making this a bed, either; I'll be fine right here, sleeping on the couch."
I told her "Well, I'm going to head on to bed, then. I pretty much set my own hours, and I want to get an early start so I'll have plenty of time for talking to people tomorrow night."
She voiced her understanding, and stood up when I did. To my surprise, she came over to stand in front of me and looked up into my face to tell me "Thank you, Jim. I know you're going out of your way to help me, and you saved me from going with Charley earlier when I didn't know any better. I don't think you'd just put me out on the street, but you're being a lot nicer about me being here than I think most would. I know what you're doing, and I really, truly do appreciate it."
"That's okay, Jill."
"Well, I just wanted you to know, is all" she told me before surprising me by standing on her toes long enough to give me a kiss on the cheek, and then blushing furiously.
Asking her to stay there a moment, I went into my bedroom, and then came out a minute later with my 'winter' bathrobe. I had another, lighter, one that I generally lazed around in during the summer months. The 'winter' one was a lot heavier and warmer, and I figured she'd be more comfortable if she could use it after we went to our respective beds.
Handing it to her, I said "I don't know what you've got to sleep in, and don't need or want to. So you can wear this to keep it a mystery, okay?"
She responded with a relieved half-smile and told me "Thank you."
I just grinned, and after telling her "Good night" and getting one in return, went into my bedroom and closed the door behind me. Demosthenes didn't turn up after I'd been in bed for a couple of minutes, so I figured he must be keeping Jill company. Soon afterwards, I was sound asleep.
When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I noticed was the smell of coffee. Close on the heels of that was the fact that my bedroom door was partway open.
My confusion was cleared up by Jill's voice coming from the other side of my door, telling me "I hope you don't mind, but I knocked to see if you were up yet, and when you didn't answer, I peeked in. You said you wanted to get an early start, so I left the door open a little and started coffee; I figured that was the nicest way to wake you up."
After clearing my throat, I told her "That's fine. Yeah, the smell of coffee IS a nice thing to wake up to. I'll be out in a couple of minutes."
"You don't have to hurry. I haven't started breakfast or anything; I just made coffee" she told me, before closing the door.
Since I usually don't get hungry in the morning until after my first cup of coffee, I was relieved that she hadn't started cooking yet. Still, I didn't dawdle about getting a shower and getting dressed – the coffee had simply smelled too darn good.
When I stepped out of my bedroom, she appeared from the kitchen a few moments later to tell me "Go ahead and sit wherever you usually do, and I'll get you some coffee."
When she saw me start in her direction, she quickly disappeared back into the kitchen, and was waiting there with two cups and the coffee pot when I came through the door. I barely had time to get myself seated before she had the cup in front of me and started filling it. When she was done, she set the other cup across the table from me and filled it, as well, before putting the pot back.
When she'd sat down, I thanked her (embarrassing her slightly, I think) before taking a sip. Somehow, the coffee tasted better than it did when I made it, and when I commented on that fact, she hesitantly told me "I'm glad you think it's okay. All I did was just add some eggshell to the grounds before I started it. They help make it less bitter."
I assured her it was fine, and asked her how much eggshell she used. She told me, and I asked her to write it down and leave it next to the coffeemaker so that I'd be sure and remember. Pleased, she said that she would, before starting on her own cup.
When I got toward the bottom of my cup, she got up and refilled it before asking if I was ready for breakfast. I decided that I was, and said so before asking if she'd be eating with me. She said she would, and asked if scrambled eggs, reheated meat from the leftover porkchops, and hash browns would be okay. That was more than I would have bothered with on my own, but it sounded pretty darn good, so I said it would be fine.
It wasn't ten minutes later that she set a plate in front of me, then eating utensils and a napkin. I waited until she'd gotten her own food on the table and sat down before digging in. Demosthenes showed up, and both of us again ignored his psychic admonishments about sharing. As we ate, she told me about the rest of her family, and what she knew about Todds.
When the food was gone, Jill told me not to worry about the dishes, or cleaning up – that she'd take care of it after I left. With one less thing to do, I was able to sit and enjoy my coffee that much more.
Finally, though, it was time for me to get moving. After getting ready to face the public, I'd just finished collecting my things so I could leave when Jill came up to me. When I looked at her, she shyly told me "I… I hope I made it better and easier for you to go to work this morning. You've been so nice, and done so much to help ME that I wanted to do something to help you, in return. I know it wasn't much, but…"
A little surprised, it took me a moment before I could answer "Why, yes, you did make it nice, and easy for me, Jill. Thank you."
Leaning forward slightly, I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before telling her "Really, Jill – I'm glad I'm able to help you in whatever way I can. You don't have to do anything special for ME except just keep being the good person I already know you are."
Surprised at first at what I'd done, she was looking quite pleased by the time I finished. With a smile, I told her "I'll be gone for about nine hours, or maybe a little more, and I'll take care of my own lunch. If you want to go out, there's a spare key for the front door with a tag that says what it is hanging on a hook in the kitchen; just make sure you lock the door while you're gone. I'll see you later, okay?"
She nodded happily, and after I was outside, I heard her locking the door behind me.
That day was a little busier than the one before, but I still had plenty of time to think about what Jill had told me over breakfast. Once she'd understood the kinds of things I was after, she was able to give me plenty of information to work with. By the time I was ready to head home, I had a number of options that could help her have a better future than she would have otherwise.
When I got home, I no more than opened the door than I was greeted by a pleased-looking Jill. Telling me to go ahead and sit down, she disappeared into the kitchen; I'd barely taken a seat in the living room when she appeared with a beer for me. After handing it over, she took a seat at the other end of the couch and asked me how things had gone that day. It surprised me a little, but I just chalked it up to her finally getting comfortable and relaxing. Driving a cab isn't what you could call a real exciting job, so telling her about my day didn't take all that long. When I was done, I asked her if she was fixing supper, or if I was; she let me know that she'd already gotten everything ready and was just waiting for me to let her know I was hungry.
Lunch had been light, and fast, so let her know that she could start it any time. She immediately got up and headed for the kitchen again, returning a few moments later to ask what I wanted to drink with supper, saying it wouldn't be long. I told her that iced tea sounded pretty good, and she left again.
Sooner than I'd expected, Jill let me know that it was time to eat; when I saw what it was, I understood why: a basic simple meal of cheeseburgers and fries. As we ate, Jill told me a few more things that she'd remembered during the day; from the way she talked, I knew that she'd not only recognized the necessity of going back, but was starting to look forward to it.
After we finished eating, I was surprised to discover that she'd separated out a little bit of the hamburger and cooked it up for Demosthenes – earning herself a place on his Favorite People List.
I was allowed to help clean up, and dried the dishes after she'd washed them. Then it was back into the living room so that I could use the phone. Hopefully, I'd only have to call one of the families whose name she'd given me; but I think that both of us knew that was a bit much to expect.
I think both of us were surprised, however, when we essentially hit the lottery with the third call.
One of the family's three daughters was a good friend of Jill's; Jill had thought they might be willing to let her stay with them for a little while as a kind of 'transition period' between when she got back, and left for wherever she ultimately ended up. Instead, they'd been delighted and relieved to get my call: they'd heard that Jill had left, and vaguely under what circumstances, and had been both worried about her and sympathetic to her plight. While not as 'devout' as Jill's parents, they were still religious, and were more than willing to take Jill in when she returned; even more to the point, they offered to let her stay with them – at least until she graduated high school.
It wasn't that Jill would be doing anything like checking into a hotel, however. They made it clear that they would expect certain things from her, and weren't above removing their support if Jill didn't comply. Jill indicated that she was agreeable to their conditions, and I left her and them on the phone for well over an hour to work out the details – not just of her actually staying with them, but the rest of it, too: getting her back into school, them taking legal guardianship of her, and so on. To give her some privacy, I told her that I'd be in the kitchen and that I didn't think I needed to talk to the family again. She nodded her understanding, and I left her to it.
I'd just gotten up to get myself some more tea when Jill came into the kitchen – and surprised the hell out of me by coming up to me and immediately wrapping her arms around me and giving me a fierce hug. Up to that point, I'd been careful about engaging in any physical contact with her, and she hadn't shown any interest in it, either.
Still, I wasn't about to let the opportunity pass, and readily returned it. When she finally released me, she stepped back and I could see tears in her eyes; I knew they were a byproduct of the happiness I could see on her face.
Taking my tea glass, she said "We're all done, now, so you can have your living room back. Go ahead, and I'll bring you some more."
She was just a minute or so behind me in getting seated on the couch, and after we'd each take a drink, told me "Thank you for leaving me to talk to them alone. After all you've done to help me, I really wouldn't have minded if you'd stayed – but it was a little easier for me with you gone."
I smiled and answered "I kinda figured it would be."
I heard her softly say "Yeah, I reckon you would" before starting to tell me what all was going on; something that lasted a little while. They were willing to pay for her bus ticket home, and they were going to see if they could get her clothes from her parents (if not, they would loan her some money to get a little bit of new stuff). They were also willing to assume legal guardianship for her, subject to her good behavior for 6 months; they were (reluctantly) agreeable to her continuing to have Todd as a boyfriend – but if there was ANY kind of repeat of what had provoked her parents or anything like it, that relationship was to be either terminated fully and completely, or she'd be asked to leave. She was to have the same limited dating hours as she'd had under her parents roof (which were appreciably more restrictive than their daughters'), and was expected to raise her gradepoint average a full quarter point at a minimum. She was to be completely on her own for 'pocket money': anything beyond food, clothing, and shelter, she was expected to earn it herself. There were a few other conditions and caveats, as well. Jill wasn't entirely pleased with all of them, but told me "They're doing me a kindness, taking me in like they are. Last couple of weeks – 'specially since I got to town here – I've realized that I'm not as grown up as I thought I was, and nowhere near ready to be out on my own. They're willing to help me, but they want to make sure they're not going to get stuck doin' it, either – and I can understand that. I know I'm going to be something of a burden on them, what with them already having three girls; but I'm dang sure it's gonna be as small a burden as I can manage."
She thought for a few seconds, and then said "Besides, I got something to prove, too. I know I'm gonna have to show everybody that I'm not like my folks have been sayin' I am, and that being gone like I have hasn't changed me" – and after a glance at me, added "At least, not in any way that isn't good."
She finished up by telling me "Some of the things they want and expect… well, I'm not real happy about. But they aren't asking anything unfair, and like I said, I understand their point, too. If they're willing to give me a chance, then I'm by-God gonna show them they were right to do it."
I told her that it sounded like everything had worked out a lot better than we'd hoped, and she said "Way, way better. Jim, if I hadn't had the luck of gettin' into YOUR cab with that fella, I'd be in a whole lot worse shape than I am now, never mind what I got to look forward to, now. I'm not gonna forget you, or what you've done for me."
A little embarrassed, I just waved a hand at her and answered "Don't worry about it. I'd have done what I could for any other girl like you. This time, it just worked out, is all."
"Maybe so. But I'm still not forgetting."
By that time, it was late enough that I could reasonably claim the need to go to be as a reason to bring an end to the conversation. Jill accepted it easily enough, and asked when I was going to work the next day. I just told her that I had the next couple of days off, and that seemed all she needed to hear. In return, I asked her if she had to be at the bus station any particular time. She told me that the family had said that they'd make arrangements for her to pick up the ticket any time she was ready. I smiled and said that it sounded like both of us got to sleep in; she just laughed.
Both of us stood up, and after she'd given me a kiss on the cheek, she took my iced tea glass and headed for the kitchen while I made for the bedroom.
Once the door was closed behind me, it didn't take me long to get undressed and into bed. I'd been a little tense that day, so the relief of knowing that Jill would be going home the next day made it pretty easy to fall asleep.
I woke up to the feel of a small female body pressed against my back and a soft, cool hand wrapped around my erect penis.
I can only plead the fact that I had been sound asleep for how long it took me to connect the presence of a female in my bed to Jill.
Once I'd made that connection, though, significantly less time passed before I'd exclaimed "Shit!" and rolled myself as far away from her as I could.
That accomplished, I demanded "Jesus jumping Roosevelt Christ! Why the hell are you in here, and what the crap do you think you're doing?!"
I could hear the humor in Jill's voice as she asked "Don't you know you're not supposed to take the Lords name in vain? And that cursing is a sin?"
"Yes, to both. Now answer the questions!"
Patiently, she told me "I'm in here is because I wanted to do something extra special for you, and maybe learn more from you than I already have."
"I already told you, you don't have to do anything 'extra special' for me – particularly nothing physical, and not at your age. And what makes you think I've got anything to 'teach' you?"
I heard her make a sound of derision before she said "I know, I'm 'jailbait': an underage female. But if the cops and everybody are so damn worried about that, why the hell aren't there more places to help when something happens like it did with me? I realized today that as much as I loved them, that didn't change the fact that my folks are a couple of religious nuts, and that I was right to get away from them. But once I left, where was everybody – all the folks that are supposedly so concerned for my welfare, I mean? Whatever else happened, I still don't turn sixteen until next month: if I'm too young or stupid or inexperienced to know what I can or should do with my body, where the hell are the people to protect me? And if there isn't anyone to protect me, who the hell do they think they are to tell me what I can or can't do if they aren't going to? You said it yourself: it'd take several weeks to get me any help at my age. Even I have to figure that if my age was really that important, I wouldn't have to stay on the street that long", getting more and more worked up as she talked.
She took a breath, and was noticeably calmer when she told me "Today, while I was waiting for you to get back, I had a look at all those books you've got. I've never seen that many in one person's home, before!" My library was five shelves high and over twelve feet long – and overflowing; I didn't doubt that it was a novelty for her.
Hesitantly, she said "While I was looking, I… I found one that… that you'd been writing in. And I read it."
"That's okay, Jill. If I was worried about people reading it, I'd put it someplace more private. Go on."
"Well, like I said, I read it. There was a lot of it I didn't understand. Truth be told, I didn't understand most of what you wrote. But the parts I did understand, they made sense to me – I mean, I knew what you were saying, and understood why you were saying it. And I thought about it some, and figured you were right, what you wrote. Then I realized that I'd learned something, and right after that, I figured that I could learn more from you, too, if I wanted."
She released a soft laugh and continued "I don't mean I learned anything like we do in school, either – like in history or grammar or any of those things. It was like I learned something about real life, and how I want to live, and that kind of thing. I got an idea of what kind of person you are, and what you try to be like. I spent almost all day, reading what I could of that book, and thinking about the things you wrote in it. And I decided that there were things that I don't know about, and want to learn – from YOU."
Afraid that I already knew the answer, I still had to ask "What things? And why just from me?"
"Things like being with other people. Not just talking with them and working, and suchlike, but being friends, and even… closer. And just you because you're the only person I know of that has actually took the time to figure out the who and what and why of what's important to you – including people. You've got to understand that while I was growin' up, all I ever learned from about stuff like that was the Bible, and goin' to church with my folks. 'Cept what was taught in the Bible never really made a lot of sense to me. I mean, it says things like turning the other cheek – but all I ever saw happen from that was the other cheek just got hit, too. Shucks, anybody with any sense can tell you that a bully'll keep at it until you stand up to 'em, but the Bible, it don't say nothin' about standing up that way – unless it's for God or Jesus, of course. And I used to hear that God gave us the choice to worship him, or not – but would send us to Hell to burn forever if we didn't. What kind of choice is that? I was told that God gave us 'free will' – and then saddled us with 'urges' and 'desires', and tempted us on purpose. That always sounded like us humans, we was playing a rigged game, with God just setting us up to fail. Kinda like having crooked dice at the Kiwanis Casino Night – not that I ever got to go to one" she finished, with a laugh.
She took another breath, and went on "Anyway, the Bible and church and such, it never made much sense to me. I learned what was expected of me, and tried to do what they said I was supposed to as best I could. But I was never really happy about it, and couldn't understand how folks could be. Sure, trying to do good and all that, that was fine; it was the idea that I was being punished for doing something wrong when I couldn't see how or what – that I couldn't get hold of. I reckon that's why I was willing to do the things I did with Todd: I was happy with him, and what we did with each other, it felt pretty good. So when I read what you wrote down in that book of yours… well, I realized that you had a way of thinking that I wanted to hear."
Both of us were silent with our own thoughts for some time before I finally asked her "Okay, maybe there's something about how I think that I can explain to you. But why are you naked and in my bed, instead of us sitting down in the living room or in the kitchen?"
"Because some of what I understood in your book was about being with people – being… physical with them, I mean. I ain't looking to give myself to you; my virginity, I mean. If any guy I know gets me that way, it'd be Todd. But from what I figure, there's plenty you can still teach me without that happening. And I expect that once I learn that much from you, it wouldn't be that much more for me and Todd – or whoever my husband is, if it isn't him. Me and Todd, we've touched each other some – but not as much as Momma and Daddy thought, never mind all the other they thought we did. And what we've done… well, it hasn't been much, and it's been in the dark 'cause even with me not believing everything they said, Momma and Daddy and the church folks and such still made me ashamed to do anything any other way."
"You say you're ashamed to do anything except in the dark, and even the touching you and Todd have done hasn't been much. So what in the world are you doing in here stark naked and touching me?"
I could hear the shame and embarrassment in her voice when she answered "I'm not saying I wasn't scared about coming in here – I was. But I figured if I didn't come in here, I'd never have the nerve to ask you about this stuff otherwise; and I decided if I was going to be getting into your bed with you, I wasn't going to do it halfway. So I got naked and opened the door – took me three tries to get nerve up, but I did it – and got into bed with you. As for the other, I figured touching your… parts would wake you up." She released a soft laugh before telling me "I didn't figure on how you'd react before that, or what you'd do when it happened."
The two of us lay there quietly in the dark as I thought about what she'd just said. What she'd told me earlier about religion and her opinion of it – that I could understand easily enough. Even without the family history that she had, I'd had something of a problem trying to reconcile the teachings of Christianity with the actions of so many that practiced it.
To an extent, I could appreciate her wish to understand and deal with her own desires, and curiosity about her body. She'd made a reasonable case for why she should be allowed to decide for herself what she wanted to do sexually, and she'd properly expressed (and demonstrated!) that she was serious about what she wanted and expected. When I thought about it, I realized that thinking of her as only being fifteen wasn't fair to her: she was, at most, barely a month from the magic age of 16, when she'd be presumed mature enough to decide such things for herself.
I certainly didn't have any problems about her looks: cleaned up and wearing the right clothes, she was definitely attractive and cute as she could be.
But I couldn't forget that she was there because she'd already shown that she was capable of acting impulsively, without thinking of the potential consequences of what she did. She seemed to have learned better, but I still needed to be sure that she was committed to any kind of intimacy between us.
I finally told her "Okay, Jill, you've explained why you're here and what you think you're doing. Now, I hope you can understand that even though you said you're sure you want to be here and that you want to learn about being… intimate from me, I'm still not ready to start doing anything with you. I mean, I've only known you for a little more than just a single day – I'm not convinced that you're really, truly ready for this. So what I'm going to do is get up and go into the bathroom; If you're not sure, then you leave and we'll act like you were never here. If you're really sure of what you want, it's going to be up to you to make me believe it. If I don't, then it's back to the couch for you – even if I have to pick you up and carry you in there. Understand?"
She said that she did, and after a couple of seconds, I tossed the covers aside and went into my bathroom; closing the door behind me, I turned on the dimmest of the two lights before taking a seat on the commode so I could hold my head in my hands and mutter curses to myself.
I waited for as long as I could, then dawdled in getting myself a drink of water, taking as much time as I could in the expectation that she'd be gone when I came out.
So when I turned the light off again, and opened the door, I was damn near stunned to see that she was still in my bed. Not only that, but she'd turned the light on, and was lying on her back on top of the covers – her entire body on display to me.
And it was quite the show, too: the faint tan lines on her body told me that she only wore fairly modest one-piece suits – influenced or coerced by her parents, no doubt. At the top of that pale zone, her breasts stood proud; each was perhaps the size of half a softball, somewhat conical, and capped by small areolas and nipples that formed pale pink peaks at their summits. Her belly was flat, and her waist curved nicely into her hips – which, in turn, flowed into a pair of legs that almost any woman would be proud of. At the juncture of her smooth thighs, I saw that she had a small wedge of hair that was nearly as pale as what her head sported. Looking at her nearly took my breath away.
Through sheer force of will, I managed to get myself walking toward the bed. As I got closer, I saw that the expression on her face was a combination of nervousness and apprehension. I figured the nervousness was about what I, or we, might do that night; the apprehension had me baffled for several seconds before I figured out that she really was innocent enough not to realize just how damn attractive and appealing she was. I didn't have the slightest reluctance about telling her "Jill, when I saw you yesterday, after I got home, I thought you were a very pretty young lady. But now… getting to see all of you like this… the only word that describes how you look is lovely. Anyone you let look at you this way is going to consider themselves to be very, very lucky. Thank you for letting me see you like this."
I knew that my words had the desired effect when she became visibly more confident – though still nervous. I addressed that little problem by letting her know "You told me that there are limits to how much you want to do with me tonight. I understand that, and I will respect those limits, no matter what else happens with us. You told me that you read the things that I wrote in my book, so I think you know that I will keep my promise on that. But you also said that you want to learn things from me; things about how two people can be intimate with each other. What I hope you learn tonight, more than anything else, is that it isn't what two people do, but why they do it that really matters. I'm willing to be with you like this not because of how you look – and as I say, you are lovely! – but because I care for you. You could even say that I love you."
I saw her eyes go wide at that, and went on "No, I don't mean that I love you the way Todd does, or anything like that. But I do love you enough to be willing to help you learn how you can be intimate with another person – knowing that it won't be me. Because by helping you learn that, I know that it will make you happy. Not just for what happens with you directly, but because I know that whatever you get from me, you'll help the other person learn it, too; and that by them learning it, they'll be able to make you happy, in return."
I continued to stand there looking into her face as she thought about what I'd just said. When I saw that she understood it, I asked "Are you afraid, now?"
"No. I was, a little bit, before – but not now. I know what you mean, now, when you say that you love me; and I know that I love you, too, the same way. After I read what you wrote in your book, I knew that you wouldn't do anything that would… hurt me. And what you just said… I know that I'm right to trust you."
Knowing that she was ready to accept what I had to offer, I moved to lie down next to her, on my side. Moving slowly, I put my hand on her belly – surprising her a little that I didn't go for one of her breasts – and looked into her eyes as I told her "We are not going to be having sex. When you leave here, you won't be any different physically that you were when you came in. However, we will be making love, in a way."
She didn't react in the slightest, and I went on to say "To be intimate with someone else, it isn't a matter what body parts you use. What's important is what's in your heart, and why you're doing it. If you care for someone else, and you're doing the things you do because of that care, then it's fair to call it 'making love'. You can 'make love' a little bit, like we'll be, or you can 'make love' a lot, like you will when you and the right guy decide it's time. Whatever you do, never, ever be intimate with someone because you think you 'have' to, or because you think you 'owe' them something. Any woman that will have sex with a man for money is a whore. An honest one, but still a whore. Any woman that will go to bed with a man if he says or does or has the right things is still a whore – just not an honest one, because she's still selling her body; she's just not honest enough to admit that's what she'd doing."
I saw Jill consider that for a few moments before nodding her head in understanding, and telling me "A couple of the girls at school… well, they'd be all kinds of mad if you offered them cash money for sex. But if you brought 'em flowers, took 'em out to eat someplace fancy, and was polite enough, you'd likely find out they'd be pretty agreeable along 'bout the second date. I guess it is whorin', isn't it? Just a different way of paying, like you said; and not as honest."
"Don't forget the other part of what I said", I cautioned. She looked at me, and I reminded her "I also said that when you ARE with someone, it doesn't matter what body parts you use."
She looked at me expectantly, and I continued "You said that you and Todd have already touched each other some. And I expect you already have an idea of what parts are involved for the actual sex part."
She didn't hesitate to answer "Yeah, we did – and I do."
"I'd be willing to bet that you've heard about other things, too – whether it's from hearing other girls talk, or wherever."
She did blush faintly, but admitted that she had.
"Well, now you're going to get the chance to find out for yourself what's really involved in some of those things. I expect that some of what you heard didn't sound very nice, the way people talked about it; what I hope you'll do is have the courage to try them and decide for yourself. I'm not going to 'push' you to do anything, and I'm certainly not going to force you – I'm just going to give you the opportunity; the final decision is yours."
She assured me that was fine, and I told her "Now, I may have to ask you different things. They aren't 'trick' questions, and there aren't any 'right' or 'wrong' answers. I'm not asking them to make you feel embarrassed, though they might make you feel that way; and I'm not trying to make you feel bad or that you don't know something or any of that kind of nonsense. I'll be asking them so that I don't waste any time telling you something you already know, or skip over something that you need to learn. Okay?"
She said it was, so the first thing to do was ask her "You said that you've always been ashamed to do anything except in the dark; I take it that means the touching you did with Todd, too?"
She visibly pinkened with mild embarrassment, but told me "Um, yeah. And the touching we did, it was almost always on the outside. Of our clothes, I mean."
"That's fine, Jill. You told me that you've done a lot of babysitting, and I'm going to figure that included boy babies, too, so you already know pretty much how boys and girls are different – at least, in general terms. But I'm also going to figure that you've never really gotten to look, either; not at a guy that had at least started puberty. So what I figure to do first is for me to just lay back, close my eyes, and let you look at me."
She was definitely surprised, and I told her "You can look, touch, move things around, ask questions, whatever you want to do for as long as you want to do it. I'm only going to ask that you take it easy about squeezing or hitting anything", the last part in an effort to get a smile out of her. She looked suitably horrified at the very idea of hitting or squeezing before smiling when she realized that I was letting her know that she didn't have to worry about simply touching.
Having told her what I was going to do, I did it: simply rolling over onto my back, putting my hands behind my head, and closing my eyes.
Even so, it took almost a minute before she worked up the nerve to sit up and move to where she could get a proper view.
As was to be expected, her initial touches were brief, and tentative; but when I didn't react in any noticeable way, she gradually got confident enough to touch me for longer periods of time, and move things around as she asked a number of questions. I gave her the best answers I had, and when I wasn't sure, readily admitted so. I also took the opportunity to make sure she knew not only the 'proper' names for things, but had the slang terms correct, as well. Somewhere along the line, she'd gotten at least a basic grounding in male versus female anatomy, so she didn't have to ask any of the more rudimentary things. She didn't do anything overtly sexual, so I didn't have any difficulty keeping control of myself. When she was done, I felt her move to lie next to me again.
Opening my eyes, I rolled onto my side again and returned my hand to her belly. She looked up at me in expectation, and I asked "Think you're okay with guy parts, now?" She grinned, and nodded her head, so my next question was "Have you ever had the chance to do anything like that about girl parts?"
Surprised at the question, she told me "No, never. After I started growing hair, you know, between my legs, Momma and Daddy was pretty particular about what friends I got to spend the night with. Oh, we pretended to kiss boys and practice hugging, but never anything more than that."
I reassured her "There's nothing wrong with that, Jill. If you want, I can help you learn girl parts, too."
She grinned at me and asked "How you gonna do that? I'm the only girl here!"
I grinned back and said "Exactly." The resulting look of bafflement on her face was priceless.
I finally had mercy on her by explaining "Yes, you're the only girl here – so you're the one you'd learn from. What I can do is get a mirror so that you can look at yourself. If you want, I can stay with you, and try to answer any questions you've got. Or I can leave you alone until you tell me you're done; or you can skip the whole thing – it's up to you. That's assuming you haven't already done something like that yourself, of course."
She didn't even blink at the suggestion she might have already examined her own genitals; she simply shook her head in the negative before telling me "No, I haven't." Then, a moment later, she said "Uh, yeah, I think I'd like to do that. You… you don't have to leave, or anything; I know I'm going to, uh, have questions."
"It's okay. If that's what you want to do, and how you want to do it, then that's the way it'll be. Just give me a minute to get a mirror, okay?"
Apparently not trusting herself to speak, she nodded her agreement; I left the bed just long enough to retrieve a large hand mirror I had – I'd bought it with the vague idea that it might be useful, and had actually found plenty of instances where having it had been a help.
Back on the bed with Jill, I told her "You're going to have to sit up; I'd suggest that you kind of rest on your tailbone, and lean back against the headboard. Bring your knees up and get your feet as far apart as you can. I'll hold the mirror so you can see yourself; I will not be touching you unless YOU tell me to, only the WAY to tell me, and for as LONG as you tell me."
She found her voice long enough to let me know she understood, then started to sit up. Positioning herself as I'd suggested, she spread her legs as far as she could before starting to bring her knees up. I quickly got the mirror positioned, then made a little bit of a 'show' out of turning my head so that I wasn't looking directly at the area between her thighs. That seemed to reassure her, and she soon had herself as opened up as she could. It took only a few commands from her before I had the mirror positioned to her satisfaction.
While she was engrossed in examining herself, I took the opportunity to have a look at her myself; while my head was turned away from her crotch, I was still able to shift my eyes enough to see her: her pale muff appeared to be much shorter and thicker than most I'd seen; the edges of her growth were sharp and clear, and I couldn't see the skin I knew was underneath it. It extended something over inch above where I estimated her pubic bone to be, and formed a narrow vee that tapered out just below the cleft where her sex was starting to make an appearance.
After simply looking at herself for a bit, she reached down to begin touching – and more to the point, opening herself up so that she could see her particulars. That made them visible to me, too: the small, thin lips of her womanhood, all but hidden; the hood of her clitoris, which was the size of a small pea, and starting to make an appearance. I saw that she was starting to develop a slight flush, and a few moments later, my nose told me that it was one of arousal. That was further verified by the appearance of a thin sheen of her oils on the inner surfaces of her labia. To my mild surprise, she was bold enough to spread her vaginal lips so that she could have a look at what lay further inside her: the ring of her hymen. She seemed to examine it closely, and even gave it a few tentative nudges with the very tip of her finger before she was ready to start asking me questions.
To help keep her relaxed, I made a point of 'obviously' looking at her when she asked a question that made it necessary; the rest of the time, I made sure to make it clear that I wasn't looking – at least, not overtly.
Finally satisfied that she knew her particulars, she hesitantly asked if she was like other girls. That gave me an excuse to be seen looking at her for several seconds before tilting my head up to look into her face as I told her "Just like I'll bet you saw differences among the boy babies that you sat for, women aren't all exactly the same, either. But just like there's only so much difference among guys, there are limits to how different women can be, too. You look about as normal as any other woman that I'm aware of. I don't mean to embarrass you, but even there, I think you look better than most of the females I know."
What I said did embarrass her, of course; but it also reassured her somewhat that not only was she not 'weird' there, but actually attractive – to me, at least.
I moved the mirror out of the way, and she scooted herself down until she was laying on her back again. I took my position on my side next to her, but kept my hands to myself as I said "Jill, trust me on this: you are most definitely an attractive young woman. I know that you haven't had much experience or chance to learn about boys and girls and all the differences between them. I hope that by getting to look at me, and then yourself, you realize that there really isn't all that much difference between individuals of either gender. Any difference you can think of between girls, there's something that applies to guys. Just like there are some girls that have really large or small breasts, there are guys that have really large or small penises – and just like most girls breast size tends to be more in the middle, a guys size does. The same thing about how much or little hair they have between their legs, what color or shape it is, ALL of that is going to be a little bit different between individuals. But if you took any two random people of either sex and compared them, the differences wouldn't be all that much. Pretty much everybody of either sex has the same things in the same places, with only minor differences between them. Remember that it's only the extremes that most people really notice, not the average."
The next thing I had to say was "Now that we've got that part out of the way, we can start helping you learn how to give and receive pleasure from being intimate with someone. To do that, there's going to have to be touching – and different kinds of touching. Nothing is going to happen that is going to hurt you in any way; but if you really want to learn anything from me about being intimate with another person, then you're going to have to understand that you're going to have to be willing to try new things. I mean, if you already knew everything, there wouldn't be anything for you to learn, right?"
She smiled at that, and answered "Yeah, that's right. I know I'm going to have to try stuff I never thought of before. I'm kinda scared about it; not because I don't want to try, but because I'm afraid I'll get it wrong, or you'll be disappointed with me."
I reached over to cup her cheek in my hand as I looked into her eyes to say "Jill, I am not going to be disappointed with you about any of this. If you decide there's something you don't want to do, then I'll be sorry that you'll be missing out on something that you might have liked – but I will not be disappointed. And if you try something and decide you don't like it… well, that's up to you, for you to decide, and there's nothing for me to say or think about it. The whole idea is for me to help you discover what's possible, so that you can choose for yourself what you want. Don't worry about getting anything 'wrong', either: what you need to understand is that when you're being close with someone else, if something feels good to the person it's being done to, then the one doing it is getting it right. Once you've got that part, doing it so it's better for the other person is just a matter of practicing" I finished, with a grin.
She grinned back at me, and I told her "I said that it doesn't matter what body parts you use to be intimate with someone else. What I'd like to do is show you now that that's true – that what really matters is how you think about things, and what's in your heart. You don't have to do anything but accept what I'm going to offer you. If something feels strange or different, I'd ask you to give it a little time before you decide whether it feels good or not, okay?"
I could see the trust and confidence she had in me when she nodded her agreement.
Looking into her eyes, my first considered action was to slowly and softly draw my fingertips down her cheek – then onward down her throat, between her breasts, and ending with my hand gently resting on her abdomen. Lowering my head, I kissed her lips lightly and chastely, and then did it again before beginning to caress her body. Wanting to help her understand that there was more to intimacy than just breasts and crotches, I deliberately went about touching and teasing as much of her as I could reach, except for her breasts and pubic area. I didn't do anything to try and get her to open herself to my touch; rather, I simply invited her to let me have access to more of her body. That way, it was her idea to open her legs so that I could caress the insides of her thighs, and it was her idea to move her arms away from her body so that I could reach their insides, and the sides of her body. Throughout, I continued to give her soft, pleasant kisses – sometimes on her lips, other times on her cheek, forehead, or even the tip of her nose.
It didn't take long before I had her fairly writhing beneath my hand. Only then did I gradually begin to include the more conventional erogenous zones, starting with her breasts.
Even after I'd gotten both of her nipples erect and all but begging to be sucked on, I limited myself to using only my hand and fingertips; the inclusion of her mons and the area between her silken thighs seemed to happen purely by coincidence – a pleasant one, judging from the soft noises she began to make. So gradual and careful was my touch that she never exhibited any concern or notice of it when contact with the core of her womanhood was finally made.
With the faint scent of her arousal, I slowly began to increase my efforts, starting by finally allowing my lips to leave her face and end at her breasts via a random and circuitous path. My lips slowly and gently climbed their way up her breasts until reaching their peaks; the first touch of my lips to each nipple was simply to kiss it. More kisses followed; and each time, I took a tiny fraction more of her nipples between my lips until I was finally able to suckle on each – my efforts accompanied by moans of pleasure and arousal from her.
As my mouth and tongue brought the peaks of her warm, firm mammaries to stand tall and proud, my hand was busy lower down. I wasn't focusing my attentions solely on her sex, either: the area between her thighs was only the endpoint of each journey my hand and fingers took.
When her pelvis began an involuntary arching upwards in welcome to my touch, I slowly transferred my attentions from her breasts to her pubis, a process that ended with my head between her thighs.
The feeling of my breath on her mons caused her to start to raise her head and say something, but the effort was cut short by my tongue dipping between her labia before tracing a path upwards across her opening – and ending with a brief caress of her clitoris. When I started to do it again, her head fell back and her legs spread even more as she gave herself over to the sensations I was creating in her young body. Her woman's oils were thin, light, and fresh; I delighted in collecting them on my tongue to savor before stimulating her into producing more. I was always careful to avoid trying to penetrate her in any way; there was no need, since the rest of my efforts proved to be more than sufficient to inflame her passions and bring pleasure to both of us.
From the things that Jill had said to me, I didn't figure that she pleasured herself much. And I figured it was a virtual certainty that she'd never had an orgasm – an oversight that I was patiently and deliberately trying to correct.
With my hands teasing and caressing her breasts and nipples as my lips and mouth and tongue were doing the same farther down, she was steadily being raised to higher and higher levels of passion and arousal. I knew when she got close to the summit, and took great delight in being the one to introduce her to the indescribable pleasure of her first climax: I heard her start to cry out before her thighs all but slammed against the sides of my head as her body went through the first of a series of powerful spasms that seemed all the world like convulsions. After experiencing her initial reaction, I didn't dare do anything to prolong or intensify it for her; instead, I quickly tapered off the various things that I was doing to her. When her legs finally fell apart, I took the opportunity to move so that I was laying next to her again before wrapping and arm around her and holding her close as her young body went through the last few spasms of her release.
She was trembling against my chest, panting as her lungs tried to gather the oxygen that the rest of her body was demanding.
When her breathing had slowed again, she brought a hand up and pressed against my chest, letting me know that she wanted me to release her. Helping guide her as she rolled onto her back again, I left my forearm resting on her belly as I looked down at her.
Though visibly stunned by what she'd just experienced, she still managed to look up at me in something akin to awe to ask "That… that's an orgasm? Like I've read about?"
Smiling, I answered "Yes, that's what it was. That was the first time for you, wasn't it?"
She nodded slowly before telling me "Sometimes, I used to… to touch myself, and it always felt good. But I always stopped after a bit because I felt ashamed and dirty, doing it. If I'd kept going, I'd have had one of those before, wouldn't I?"
"Probably, depending on how much you did it, and how often."
"Then how come they say making yourself feel good is so bad, when it can make you do that?" The tone of her voice made it clear that she literally couldn't comprehend why anyone would say that what she'd just been through was 'wrong'.
"Jill, the only thing I can figure is that there are some people that just can't be happy unless they're doing something to make themselves miserable. And if they can make someone else miserable in the process, that just makes it even better for them."
Several seconds went by before she hesitantly asked me "Is… is it like that when you're being physical with someone else, too?"
"It can be; I even think it should be, if the ones involved care about each other in their hearts and minds."
"And if they don't?"
"Then what they have may satisfy their bodies, but that's not really enough, to my way of thinking."
"What do you mean?"
I considered it for a moment, then asked her "Have you ever cheated at something? A game, or a test, or anything like that?"
She reluctantly admitted that she had, and the next thing I asked was "Were you really happy with the result? Or did it turn out not be as nice as you thought it would?"
"It wasn't as nice. Not really."
"The way I figure it, it's kind of like that when you're dealing with people, too: if you're going to share your most personal possession – your body – with someone, then if you don't have your mind and your heart involved, too, then you're basically cheating yourself."
She didn't look like she quite understood, so I asked her "When I told you that I love you, did you believe me?" She said that she did, and I continued "Do you think that because I love you, I was trying to make you feel good?"
She said that she did, and my next question was "Do you think you would feel the same way about what happened if you didn't know that I love you?"
I watched her face as she considered it, and already knew the answer when she told me "No, I wouldn't. This is special because you're special. You mean that when it's me and Todd, it'll be like this?"
"Yes, it will. Maybe not at first, because both of you still have to learn how to give and receive pleasure from each other. If both of you have your hearts in the right place and are willing to use your minds, then the rest of it should be as good, or even better, than tonight. Remember, I'm older and have more experience than you or Todd, so I was able to kind of 'make up' for what you didn't know; but you and Todd love each other more, so that'll make it easier for you, too. It's kind of like when you're cooking: if you don't have quite enough of one thing, then you can usually add a little more of something else to make up the difference."
She smiled her understanding, and when I saw her start thinking about what I'd said and what it meant to her, I was willing to wait for her to work things out.
Several minutes went by before she looked up at me again, a guilty expression on her face. I reached up to cup her cheek again before telling her "It's okay, Jill. You're here because you wanted to learn things from me; I'm not going to be upset with you when you want to think about what I say."
She gave me a shy smile and slowly rubbed my palm with her cheek before saying "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you'd understand, and be so willing to be patient with me. After I read your book or diary or whatever you want to call it, I knew that you had to be a good person."
I softly kissed her, and after I'd raised my head again, the look in her eyes told me volumes about just how much heart and soul she had in her small body.
The next thing I knew, she had a mischievous grin on her face, and she asked "I just accepted what you said you had to offer me, didn't I?"
"You certainly did!" I teased.
Her grin got wider before she asked "Then is it time for me to offer, and you to accept?"
I couldn't help but grin back at her as I answered "If you think so, and want to."
"I do – to both!" she declared before sitting up and turning to face me.
After I'd rolled onto my back, she scooted a little closer before asking "What should I do? I want to do this, but I'm not sure what or how, is all…"
I smiled up at her and answered "Remember, I told you that what body parts you use doesn't really matter. Anything I did to you, you can do to me – and if you think of something you want to do that I didn't, then that's okay, too."
Reassured, she smiled at me before announcing "Then what I want to do first is this!", followed by giving me one Hell of a kiss. While there was some passion in it, what it was mostly was loving.
When our lips finally parted, Jill looked down at me for a few seconds, as though memorizing my face. Then, perking up again, she moved to straddle my waist before commencing to shower me with a number of small, soft kisses, just as I'd done to her.
I had put my hands on her thighs, and while she was leaning over and kissing me, I slowly slid them upwards – giving her plenty of time to object, if she wanted to, before I had them on the small, tight globes of her ass.
The next several minutes were almost a sensory overload for me: between the feeling of her hard nipples pressing into my chest, her luxuriously soft bush tickling my lower
belly, and the feeling of her ass cheeks in my hands, I couldn't decide which one I liked the best. So I finally gave a mental "The hell with it!" and just enjoyed it all.
Jill did to me pretty much the same things I did to her; the difference was that she was finally getting the chance to really touch, and explore, as she saw fit. While she was trying to bring pleasure to me, I could tell that she was also pleasing herself with her actions.
Of course, there finally came the time that she wanted to include my penis in her activities. I'd gotten semi-erect from her attentions, and she took me into her hand to gently squeeze it a couple of times before I heard her say "I've heard a couple of girls at school talk about using their… their mouth on guys. It sounded like the guys liked it and all, but then I'd hear people talking about it – even guys – like it was a bad thing, too."
I simply told her "Remember, Jill, that it's up to you to decide what you want to do, and why. If you're happy about it, then what anybody else thinks doesn't matter."
She considered that for a few moments and nodded to herself before saying "I heard the other girls saying that if they used their mouth on the guy long enough, he'd… squirt his stuff while they were doin' it." She looked at me and hesitantly told me "I don't know if I'd like that, not while I was doing it."
"You don't have to do anything you're not sure of. If you want to try using your mouth on me, then I'll be sure and tell you before anything happens, okay?"
Reassured that there weren't going to be any 'surprises', Jill gave me a relieved smile before turning her attention back to my penis.
It took her a little experimentation to find out how to get my penis responding; but once she got started, she was a fast and enthusiastic learner. Once I was fully erect, she continued with her hand for a little bit before giving my manhood a small, tentative lick. Apparently satisfied that the taste was acceptable, her next move was to open her mouth and take just the head inside so that she could softly lick and suck on it. I assured her that she was doing fine, and that what she was doing felt good; that seemed to give her the encouragement she needed to start taking more and more of me between her lips, and expanding her efforts to include licking all of my penis, among other things.
At the rate she was progressing, it would have taken quite a while for her to get me even close to cumming. I decided to see if I couldn't give her a little non-verbal encouragement.
Reaching over a little bit, I was able to put my hand on her calf, and start caressing her leg. After doing that for a little bit, I gently nudged her leg to indicate that I wanted her to move it. She complied readily enough up until I tried to get her to lift it up: letting my cock fall from her mouth, she turned her head to ask me "What?"
I smiled and told her "If it's okay, I'd like to do it to you while you're doing it to me."
Remembering how I'd used my mouth on her before, she asked "We'd be doing what they call '69', then?"
When I nodded that it would, she got a pleased look on her face and unhesitatingly moved so that she was straddling my head before turning back to wrap her lips around my cock again.
Though amused at the increase in her sexuality, I didn't delay in raising my hands to hold her cute ass again and lift my head to begin orally plundering her female treasure.
It wasn't long before my nose was filled with the heady aroma of her uniquely feminine scent while my tongue was being treated to the musky sweetness of her virginal oils. When I lowered my head to rest a bit, I had the enticing view of her pale pubis being divided by the glistening lips of her vaginal opening. Although they were small and relatively thin, they were still dark with her arousal and easily visible. I took a few moments to memorize the sight she presented to me before resuming the ever-so-pleasant task I'd assigned myself.
As I'd hoped, my attentions to her womanhood provided the stimulus for her to increase HER efforts: as I moved her closer and closer to an orgasm, she got more and more enthusiastic about what she was doing to me.
Still, I had more experience with women than she did with guys, so I was able to bring her to her second-ever orgasm well before she was even close to getting ME off. When it hit her, she released my erection from her mouth in favor of breathing while she arched herself down toward where my tongue was doing various geometric patterns around and across her engorged clitoris. The waves of pleasure coursing through her body dramatically increased the amount of her lubrication between her labia, and I finally shifted my attentions to begin lapping them up as her orgasm began to taper off.
With the end of her climax, she didn't delay in lowering herself to pick up where she'd left off; I noticed a marked increase in her enthusiasm and willingness to stimulate ME when she resumed her efforts.
With the two of us feeding off each other's increasing arousal and pleasure, it wasn't too long before each of us was approaching our release. I think Jill knew that she had me at the edge of emptying myself, but I was trying to hold off until I could stimulate her into another orgasm. It was a race, but of the kind that nobody really loses.
She'd spread her legs to open herself to me as much as she could, and I had her moaning almost constantly when she found a combination of suction, head twisting, and tongue stimulation that was simply more than I could stand. I managed to pull my face from her crotch long enough to warn her that I was going to cum; the noise that she made told me that she'd heard me – but she continued what she was doing. Lifting my head, I put my mouth over her erect clitoris and began doing the best I could to bring her to climax along with me.
Even as I was rhythmically sucking on her clitoris, I felt the first wad of my semen erupting from my cock and into her warm mouth.
The only thing she did in reaction was to let most of my erection slip from her mouth, so that her lips were wrapped around it just behind the glans as she continued to suck on me, and tease me with her tongue. As my semen continued to spray into her oral cavity, she swallowed several times while doing what she could to make my release as powerful as she knew how.
When the biggest part of my climax was over, I quickly resumed trying to bring her to an orgasm; I was surprised to discover just how much wetter she'd gotten, and how amazingly close she seemed to be. I made a couple of swipes of my tongue across her vaginal opening, and had only to tease her clitoris again for a few seconds before I felt her reach her own release – one that was easily more powerful than either of the previous two.
I pretty much knew when the worst (best?) of her climax was over when I felt the full weight of her body come to rest on mine. Figuring that she was simply exhausted by the orgasms she'd had so close together, I managed to get us onto our side, then disentangle myself from her. Moving so that the two of us were head-to-head, I saw that while she was awake and (mostly) alert, she was still more than a little stunned by what had just happened to her.
Looking into her eyes, I told her that I was going to leave, but that I'd be right back. Her eyes let me know she understood, and I quickly left to get a couple of sodas and some bottled water from the fridge. Setting them on the night table, I got back into bed, where she was able to offer at least token assistance as I got her moved around so that I could hold her while I rested against the headboard. Opening one of the sodas – figuring she'd benefit from the sugar and caffeine – I held it to her lips and carefully helped her drink from it. Over the next few minutes, I helped her replenish the fluids and energy she'd lost.
Whether it was the ingredients from the soda or just her youthful resilience, she was pretty much back to normal by the time the soda can was empty. I offered her the second one, and she indicated her acceptance. Since she was able to hold it herself, I opened one of the bottles of water for myself.
We sat there quietly for several minutes with her tucked into my side. The silence was finally broken by her telling me "What you were doing to me… it felt good, real good, just like before. But because I knew I was pleasurin' you, too… somehow, that made it even better. I heard when you told me you was going to do it, but I liked what I was doing to you so much that I just didn't care. Least, not until that first time you squirted; I didn't know it could come out so hard, or that there'd be so MUCH of it!"
I gave her a hug and answered "I was a little surprised, too. I didn't think you'd do that, and when you did, that just made it even better for me. Thank you very much!"
I could feel her blush slightly as she replied "I was glad I did it, once it was over. Your stuff tasted kind of salty, and it was a little thick, like custard." Tilting her head to look up at me, I could see she was a little nervous about admitting "I… I kinda liked it, even."
I lowered my head to kiss her on the lips, which I saw surprised her. I simply raised an eyebrow, and she told me "When I heard the other girls talking about doing that, I heard 'em say that their boyfriends usually didn't want to kiss them too soon after they done it."
"I suppose that's how most guys are; but I'm not most guys."
She laughed and said "I'll vouch for that!" before I continued "First, you did that to make ME feel good; so why shouldn't I want to kiss you afterwards? Second, if there's still any of my semen in your mouth, so what? – it was mine to start with!"
She laughed again at the end of what I said, and looked pleased as she snuggled a little closer to me. I put my arm around her again, and I heard her release a soft sigh of contentment.
It was some time later, and I was debating whether or not to open another bottle of water when I felt/heard her yawn. Looking down at her, I could see that she was a little embarrassed about it; I gave her another hug and said "It's okay, dear; it IS getting late. You've had a busy day, and even busier night." Blushing in embarrassment, she looked up at me as I continued "The only worry about when we get up tomorrow is when you want to go to the bus station and head home."
Reminded of what lay ahead of her the next day, I could see that she was pleased at being able to go back where she'd come from – and a little saddened to be leaving where she was, too. Getting her empty soda can and setting it on the night stand, I told her "If you want to, I think it would be okay if you stayed with me tonight; but if you want to sleep on the couch again, that's okay, too. Either way, I think it's time for both of us to get some sleep."
She didn't hesitate in the slightest before moving away from me – but only far enough to turn out the light; then the two of us got ourselves under the bedcovers. She guided me onto my back, and lay on her side next to me so that she could put an arm and leg across me while resting her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her and gave her a hug, prompting her to kiss my cheek before the two of us settled in to get some shut-eye.
It was the smell of coffee that woke me up again the next morning. Except the coffee was in a cup, and in front of me. Looking beyond it, I saw that Jill was sitting cross-legged (and naked!) across from me, holding it. Seeing that she'd succeeded in waking me, she gave me a positively radiant smile before saying "Time to get up, sleepy head!"
Cute and chipper as she was, I simply couldn't do anything but smile back at her and wish her a good morning before sitting up far enough to take the cup from her. After I'd taken the first sip, I asked what time it was; her answer told me that we'd gotten more sleep that it really felt like I had. Then I remembered the activity of the night before – which improved my attitude considerably.
A few more sips, and I was ready to ask her how long she'd been awake; learning that she'd been up for nearly an hour only made me feel every bit of my age and a little envious of her energy and enthusiasm.
She must have noticed that I was looking her over because she told me "After I woke up this morning, I started thinking about last night, and the things you told me. I was more scared than I let on when you came out of the bathroom; I never had a guy see me naked like that, not even the doctor – he always had me wearing one of those hospital gowns, and there was always a nurse there. But when you came out, all you did was tell me how pretty you think I am. And the whole time we were together, you was always nice; I mean, you didn't go grabbing at me or staring or anything like that. Oh, you looked, all right, but you didn't stare, and that helped me a LOT. After getting to look at you, and then myself, I realized that there wasn't anything wrong 'bout being naked; not like my folks and the church and such said. That got me to thinking about a lot of other things that they tried to make me believe, too – and I finally decided that what you told me about thinking about things and deciding for myself was right. First thing I decided was that it actually feels good to be naked!"
She grinned at me before saying "Oh, I know you're looking at me and seeing my boobs, and between my legs. And I expect you're remembering last night, too – and that's okay. That's something else I figured out this morning: that being with somebody like that, sharing my heart and head with 'em, 'long with my body… that ain't a BAD thing, at all. You're sitting there remembering last night, just like I am; and both of us are happier because of it. I don't see how two folks being happy about something they shared can be wrong. Oh, I know there's folks out there that'd have a conniption fit if they saw us now; but they aren't here, and I ain't going to let them worry me like they done, not any more. So if you want to look, then have at it, 'cause I'm doing the same!"
I couldn't help but smile in reaction to what she'd said; I was delighted that she had thought about the things I'd told her, and started making her own decisions. Still, I had to caution her "Of course you're still going to be careful about what you say and do, and when and to who."
"Oh, sure! I don't figure to start runnin' around without a bra, or wearing skimpy clothes, or sayin' or doin' anything to provoke anyone. And I'm dang sure gonna do what I promised the Olsens about staying with them! I'm just saying that if the only reason somebody has for telling me something is because the Bible says… well, it isn't going to fret me like it used to – not by a long shot. I'll be polite enough, all right; it just won't worry me any, what they say."
It sounded to me like she'd managed to get her head on pretty straight, and that she understood that making decisions for herself didn't mean that she was exempt from the rest of society's rules. She still had a lot to learn, and needed some more experience with life, but she had a pretty good beginning. The way I figured it, she was getting off to a better start than a lot of people her age.
Both of us finished our coffee about the same time, and after Jill had taken my cup, she set both cups on the night stand. When she turned back and saw my confusion, she got a lecherous grin on her face before telling me "How good you made me feel last night, those were you doing things to me. This morning, I figured it'd be a good idea to make sure I can take care of my own needs before I leave."
Okay, it took me a few seconds to realize that she was talking about masturbation; I still didn't understand where she was going until she told me "I figured it'd be more… intersting if you were watching me."
My expression must have told her that I understood what she was saying, because she went on to add "And if I was watching you, I'd sure have reason to do it. I'd sure like getting the chance to see what happens when there isn't something there to catch it when you shoot, too."
Again, it took me a second to realize that she wanted me to watch her masturbate while she watched ME doing it, too.
She must have seen my penis twitch at the idea, because her grin only got wider as she turned to fully face me, and spread her legs.
Looking into my face, she used one hand to cup her breast and begin playing with its nipple as the other hand slowly traced its way between her thighs. Once there, I saw her finger curl as she drew the tip of it up through the cleft of her sex; when it reappeared, it glistened with her oils.
I was completely shocked, though, when she lifted her hand to begin sucking her own essence off of it. Seeing my surprise, she grinned wickedly, and told me "When you kissed me last night, I got a little bit of a taste of myself. I decided that I liked my taste, too!" before repeating her action.
I could feel myself begin to grow longer and harder in response to the show she was putting on for me, and decided that it was time for me to return the favor. Taking myself in hand, I began stroking my cock; Jill watched me slowly become fully erect even as she continued to tease her nipples, and play with her labia and clitoris.
By unspoken agreement, neither of us tried to move things along too quickly; rather, each of us was putting on a show for the other – deliberately going slowly so as to make it last as long as possible. It wasn't long before I could detect the unique scent of her arousal, and hear the small noises of pleasure she made as she toyed with herself. We made no effort to touch each other in any way – everything that was happening between us was because of what each of us was witness to, and the pleasure we were giving ourselves.
Jill had developed a flush that extended to the upper slopes of her breasts; I thought that I could hear the faint noises of her finger sliding through the visibly wet folds of her labia, and a soft sucking sound each time she cleaned her finger of moisture it had collected. Both of her breasts were visibly tight, her areolas puckered and nipples standing tall and proud as she gently pinched and pulled on them.
From the soft groans she was making, and the way she was arching her pelvis when her hand was there, I knew that she was getting close to her climax. That knowledge, coupled with the sight of her involved in such an intimate act, moved me closer and closer to my own release.
It was when I started thinking about being able to watch her as she orgasmed that I felt myself slip past the point of no return. It wasn't but a couple more minutes before I had to tell her "I'm going to cum!" – only to hear her reply of "Yes! Do it! I want to see!"
A few more strokes, and it happened: with a guttural groan, I felt my semen begin jetting out of me, the first blob landing on my chest.
That was all Jill needed to trigger her own climax, accompanied by an impassioned moan of pleasure and relief – something that made the second spray of my cum erupt almost as powerfully as the first.
I don't think either of us closed our eyes for even a moment; I know that I was equally fascinated and amazed by the obviously powerful spasms her body went through as the waves of her release coursed through it. The sight of her vaginal opening clenching as small waves of her essence were pushed out was incredible; the sudden increase of the aroma of her arousal, and the panting moans she made delighted me because I knew they were happening as a result of what she'd seen ME doing. It was a uniquely erotic and satisfying experience.
Still, there was only so much each of us could contribute to the situation; with my male and age limitations, I was the first to lie back as I caught my breath and tried to recover. Several seconds later, Jill followed my example, leaving the two of us lying there gasping like a couple of fish out of water.
When I was feeling approximately normal again, I turned my head to look over towards Jill, who was already looking at me. Seeing that I was responsive, she told me "That was absolutely amazing. I thought it would be sexy, watching you while you were watching me – but I didn't think it would be anything like that!"
"I didn't know what to expect, really; but that wasn't it", I assured her, in return.
Several seconds passed before she got another grin on her face and announced "I want to clean your stuff off."
"If you want to", I agreed – only to be surprised when she added "With my mouth."
It took me only a second to decide to tell her "Okay, if I get to do the same for you!"
She nodded happily, and the two of us worked our way close enough to each other that we could begin our respective cleanup tasks. She greedily vacuumed my semen from my chest and belly before using her tongue and lips to clean my penis. I, on the other hand, took my time about lapping up the ample supply of her nectar from between her thighs; I was still trying to gather up any faint traces I might have missed when she told me "Damn you! If you keep doing that, you're going to make me have another orgasm – and we still have to clean up and have some breakfast before I go. It feels really good, but I don't think we've got time for it. So stop it, would you?"
I could tell from the tone of her voice that she was just trying to be 'practical', even though she obviously liked what I was doing – but I stopped anyway, if reluctantly. Once she'd mentioned it, I realized that I WAS hungry for something besides her.
Shifting myself around, I got face-to-face with her and gave her a kiss on the lips; she looked pleased, and didn't say anything. We lay there looking into each others faces for a couple of minutes before I offered "If we need to clean up, I suppose we should get started. IF you think you can behave yourself, you can take a shower with me."
Looking delighted at the prospect, she told me "Yeah, I think I can behave… mostly."
Pretending to give her the fish-eye (which amused her greatly), I answered "Well, if you can mostly behave, I guess I can live with that…", making her giggle.
A few moments later, I sat up and gave each of her nipples a kiss before telling her "Okay, come on. If we're going to have to do this, we might as well get it over with…" with feigned reluctance. She saw right through it, of course, and happily moved to follow me into the bathroom. Once we were in the shower, I discovered that a wet and slippery Jill could be almost as much fun as a dry one. And she behaved herself – mostly.
Once we were dressed and fed, a call to the depot got us the schedule of buses that could get her home; it didn't take her long to decide which one she wanted.
We had some time before it left, so we spent it cuddling on the sofa, with Demosthenes making sure Jill didn't float up off my lap by laying on her lap and purring as she rubbed his ears.
It was a quiet trip in my car as I took her to the bus depot. Once we were there, though, she took my hands in hers and looked up into my face to tell me "Jim, I can't begin to thank you. Not only for saving me from Charley, but for everything else you've done since then. You're the kind of person I think folks that want to call themselves Christians should be like: kind, and gentle, and patient, and most of all, not judging other folks too harsh – at least, not without reason. I know I was pretty messed up when I got here; but talking to you, and being with you, has helped me get rid of a lot of the stuff that was on my mind. It isn't any exaggeration to say that what you've done for me, you've given me my life back – and that's something I'll never be able to repay. But I'll never forget it, either. Or you."
"Jill, dear, I didn't give you anything; all I did was help you to claim what was already yours by right. I don't expect you to go looking for dragons to fight, but if you get the chance to help someone else, I hope you'll do it."
"That I'll be doing – you can count on it", she declared, tears welling in her eyes.
She pulled my head down far enough that she could give me a kiss on the lips before saying "I got to go. Thank you again – for everything."
With that, she released me and quickly grabbed her knapsack before hurrying into the depot. I watched her until she was out of sight, but she never looked back.
A few weeks later, I got a hand-written letter from the Olsens, the family that had taken her in. They told me that she spoke highly of me, and credited me with helping her understand that it was in her own best interest to return. They also said that after her first visit to the doctor, she'd told him that it was okay for him to tell them how she was – and that they were happy to learn that she was 'fine'. I figured that was their 'polite' way of saying that they were relieved that she was still a virgin. Also in their letter was the comment that not only was she doing better in school than they'd asked, but that she was cheerfully following all the rules they'd established. Everyone that knew her was mildly surprised at the change in her – again, something she was attributing to my influence. They thanked me for all that I'd done, and said that if I was ever in the area, I should stop in; they were looking forward to the chance to meet me.
I replied with the appropriate comments, and finished up by asking them to let Jill know that I remembered her with fondness.
It was a couple of years later that I got a graduation notice in the mail, accompanied by a wedding announcement. Both were from Jill: she was graduating from high school in the top ten percent of her class, and she and Todd were getting married a few months later.
Remembering how she'd been with ME, I was tempted to send the two of them an illustrated copy of the Kama Sutra; but the thought that they might open it in company convinced me to come up with another gift.
Less than a year later, I got a card announcing the birth of James Thomas Kirk, along with a photo of the happy family. I still have both, framed and hanging on my wall where I can see them every day.