I called Marilyn that evening to let her know I'd finished the Boston assignment. "What's next?"

"Well, you've got another small break, I'm afraid. Looks like... A classic car show in London, starting... let's see... a week from Thursday."

I did the math in my head. It left time for me to be in Hamburg for the proposed Monday night shoot with Gunther and Lena. My heart beat faster knowing I was a solid step closer to seeing something extremely taboo and arousing. I thanked Marilyn and asked after my previous expense report, which had still not been reimbursed. She assured me it was being processed.

I was about to hang up when Marilyn cleared her throat and said, "Hey, Patrick, you still on?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Have you gotten any more... direct offers, from the woman Johanna?"

I gulped. "Why?"

Marilyn paused, then said, "Oh, no reason... Just curious..."

I decided to press her a bit, "Marilyn... you seem pretty interested in the ModelLight events and... similar things... is there something I should know?"

She paused again, then said, "Not now, Patrick... Not right now... I'll let you go..."

Marilyn hung up and left me wondering what was going through her head.

The expo had been a breeze. All I'd had to do was move from exhibit to vendor to demo, taking photos of those manning the booths or giving the presentations. It was one of the simpler assignments I'd had which didn't involve standing in one place and taking boring photos of a shareholders' meeting. Piper had been a trooper, not even complaining after I'd heard her stomach grumbling for half-an-hour before we took a break for lunch.

She took almost as many photos as I had, and during our lunch break, I looked over what she'd done, offering suggestions or complimenting especially good ones. Piper never resisted any critique and seemed to relish my attention, as she always did. Hell, even after just a few days, I thought there was no doubt Piper could train herself up to be a professional photographer if she really wanted to do so. She had an eye for angles, especially when people were the focus, and she caught several nice snaps of smiling booth attendants and enthusiastic demonstrators.

After an afternoon session which took only until about three o'clock, I'd called Marilyn and we were left with the evening to do our own thing and figure out what we wanted to do before heading to Hamburg over the weekend.

Back in the hotel room, I was using my laptop on the bed while Piper worked out moves and drew in her sketchbook. It was only Tuesday, and since I traveled light, at least in terms of clothing, I wanted to head back to my apartment for a couple of days. I booked our trip back to LA for Wednesday morning, and also got our tickets to fly to Hamburg on Sunday from LAX, then the flights we'd need to get to London before the car show later that week.

Piper leaned over me and rested her head on my shoulder, "Whatcha doin'?"

"Finishing our next travel arrangements. We're heading home tomorrow for a couple of days, then to Hamburg, then to London. Been to London before?"

"Ummm... yeah, once," she replied, flicking her hair around and smacking it right into my face. I spat out strands and she giggled, "Sorry..."

I grabbed her hair before she pulled away, holding it firmly but not too hard, then turned my head back, grinning at her, and kissed her lips for a few moments. "It's nice, Piper."

"Kissing? Yeah, I'm getting good at it," she laughed.

"You are," I agreed, "but I meant having you around to travel with me. I always used to go alone, and it got kinda lonely, you know?"

She wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me from behind, "I like going places with you, Uncle Patrick. You're fun."

"Why, because I orgasm you?" I teased.

"Nooooo," Piper replied, "I mean... well," the girl giggled, "yeeeeahhh, I guess that's part of it..." The ten-year old laughed and I rolled her from behind me and barely missed slamming her right into my laptop on the bed. I tickled her sides and Piper turned red, protesting moderately, but not really wanting me to stop. I tickled her feet which were covered in thin pink socks, then did the same under her arms and along her sides again. "I'm gonna pee!" Piper exclaimed between bursts of laughter.

I slowed my tickles and leaned down to kiss her cheeks, then slowed further to simple, light touches of her thighs and stomach and chest, kissing her lips as her laughter turned over to deep breaths and light sighs. Pulling her shirt off, I kissed her neck, raising goosebumps, then sucked on her earlobes a moment while sliding one hand down her body. Over her tight grey leggings, I cupped her sex and let my fingers gently explore her warm, covered folds.

"I really like that, Uncle Patrick..."

"Which?" I whispered.

"You touching me there... on my vul-va..."

I smiled and sucked lightly on her tiny nipple, "I love touching you everywhere, Piper..."

She breathed slower a moment. We were both in a light mood. Free time on our hands, no rush, and past the first few times together so that what we were now doing was becoming normal and such a wonderful way to spent time with each other. I was in no hurry, touching her over her leggings, just enjoying the warmth of Piper's body while sampling the lightly-salty flesh on her chest and stomach.

Piper said, "When I get my boobs and the hair down there... will you stop orgasming me?"

"Huh?" I replied, pausing and looking up at her.

"Well," the girl said quietly, "you said you like me like I am, right? And, like, if I change and stuff... I thought maybe you won't like me as much... You said I won't be prettier then cause I'm so pretty now..." She actually looked a little sad.

I stopped my intimate kisses and touches and rolled beside the girl, scooping one arm under her neck, the other slowly tracing the lines of her jaw and chin. "My sweet girl, no... it won't be like that at all... You'll change and I'll love you even more whatever happens... Piper... I love you, not just your body."

"But why?"

I thought about my answer a moment. "I've only been intimate with a couple of women, Piper, ever. Not a lot, and most of my life... I've been alone. Since you've been with me, what, a few weeks now? I've grown to love just hanging out with you... not just the intense times when we kiss and touch and make each other orgasm... But just sitting quietly, you know how you do, when you lean against me and fall asleep on the couch... or like when we're eating breakfast and you just won't stop talking long enough to actually eat your food before it gets cold? I love that about you."

"Oh."

"I love waking up to feel you against me. Sometimes, I just listen to you snoring, and believe me, you do snore really loud sometimes..."

Piper grinned.

"None of that will change just because you start puberty one day and your body starts to change. Believe me, Piper, I love you. If your boobs come in pointy or puffy or big or small, I don't care... so long as you love me and want to be with me... that's all I want, too... The rest of it is just details which make it fun to explore your body, fun to share our private moments with each other... All that matters is that you want to be with me, okay?"

"Oh, I didn't know... I love you, Uncle Patrick... and... like... will I get a lot of hair down there, do you think?"

I shrugged, "Maybe... you're mother, uh...'

Piper looked at me, "What about Mommy?"

"Well... she had a rather epic bush..."

"What's bush mean?"

"When the hair grows in between your legs and over your vulva... bush is the hair there...pubic hair, it's called... and your mother's... well... it was thick and dark..."

"And... did you like it?"

"I liked her," I told the girl, "I was just lucky to get to see her bush, honestly..."

Piper laughed a moment, then she looked sad again, wrapping her arms around my neck and whispering, "I really miss Mommy..."

"I know," I said quietly, "we'll keep trying her, okay?"

"Okay..."

"You know... if she hadn't gone, you and I would never have known to love each other, so..." I stopped before saying more along that line of thought. Was I really telling a ten-year old girl that her mother abandoning her with a stranger was a good thing. Well, I realized, to me, at least, it was. I'd grown to love Piper more strongly and fully than anyone since Veronica, and I barely remembered what it felt like to be young and in high school. I wasn't even sure what I felt for Veronica then could even compare to the way her young daughter had become the center of my happiness.

"Yeah... that's true..."

Piper was still melancholy, so I just held her awhile, letting her fall asleep and then doze a long time after my arm had turned to pins and needles.

- - -

We were back at my apartment around two in the afternoon, our stomachs growling as we tossed our suitcases and equipment down in the living room then walked down to the cafe for sandwiches. Piper was still a little down and had been since the evening before our flight. I'd wondered when the situation with her mom would really start to sink in and become a prolonged depression the girl would not so quickly shoulder aside. It seemed we'd hit that spot, and, aside from trying my best to keep her mind off her mother and offering sympathetic words, I had no idea what I could do to help.

Piper was quiet at the cafe, eating just a few bits of her sandwich, eyes downcast and her body slumped in her seat. When she went to the bathroom, I tried Veronica's cell again, with no change in the response. I didn't know anyone else who might know the woman, and no way to find an alternative way to get in touch. I was frustrated, and could see how hard Piper was taking things when she returned after a few minutes in the bathroom with red, puffy eyes.

I pulled her to me and wrapped my arm around her, an innocent, sympathetic touch. Piper leaned into me tight, let out a long sigh, and remained quiet.

- - -

Back at my apartment, I tried to interest Piper in the next Harry Potter movie but she waved off my attempt at distraction. So, for an hour or more, she was a ball next to me, knees folded under and behind her, my arm around her body and holding her tight against me.

"Do you think Mommy will ever come back?" she asked weakly.

I debated lying to her, but I thought that was an insult to the girl's intelligence. She could feel the reality in that moment after so long a separation, and I said instead, "I don't know, Piper... I don't know..."

"I miss her so much..."

"I know you do..."

There was nothing more to say for either of us, and we both knew it. She cried a while and I went with her to the bed, wrapping myself around her for long after she finally fell asleep.

- - -

I woke to a whimper and I squeezed Piper. I thought she was crying, whispering sympathetically, "Sweetie..."

I realized a few seconds in that she wasn't crying. Her body shook and I felt her hand moving below where I held her across her chest. Piper was masturbating.

I didn't want to interrupt her further, but then, her voice a bit raspy, Piper said, "Will you orgasm me, Uncle Patrick?"

Between her legs in mere seconds, I took the deep love and sympathy I had for the girl to heart, lapping her wet sex, the hairless folds already tasting of her arousal. Piper's hand moved away and I sucked lightly on her clit, then slid a finger up to her vagina and pressed gently inside.

"Ohhh..." Piper moaned, "ohhhh..."

Her hips started to roll, faster, faster, more urgency suddenly. I fingered the girl steadily, her tight hole clenching and creaming, my tongue sliding over and under and around her hard little nub.

Piper orgasmed and I licked her slower, finger moving shallowly as her body trembled. She never fully slowed her movements, and neither did I, probing Piper's body as I ate her delicious cunt. She came again soon after, then clenched her thighs together, pushing me away from her sensitive flesh.

The girl was breathing heavily, eyes closed, mouth open and wet. I hugged her, kissed her cheek, then snuggled against her, her hand reaching back weakly to caress my face. "Thanks, Uncle Patrick..."

"Little better?"

"Yeah..."

After a moment of quiet, Piper told me, "I remembered what you said, that time you orgasmed yourself in the hotel... You said you needed relief... so... I thought maybe I did, too..."

"I think you did..."

"I didn't know," Piper told me, turning and kissing my lips, "that orgasming could do that, too..."

I returned her kiss a moment, then said, "It won't solve anything, but... sometimes it makes you feel better a while."

"Yeah, I know... you make me feel better all the time, you know? Like... I dunno what to do if you're not with me..."

"Well," I whispered, "I'm here. I'm always here for you, Piper."

"I know," she repeated. "I love you."

- - -

I crawled out of bed, needing to pee, quickly emptying my bladder then sliding back beside Piper, the girl snoring softly on her back. I raised the covers and immediately smelled her, that sweet, sweaty, musky scent of little girl arousal. It was so her that I inhaled several times very deeply.

"Whatcha doin'?" Piper's soft, sleepy voice whispered.

I leaned down and smiled, kissing the girl's cheek, "Inhaling your scent..."

"Why?"

"Because you smell so good that I can't stop myself."

"Oh." Piper paused, then added, "Like my panties?"

"Exactly."

I saw her smile in the dim light, "You're weird." Then she turned towards me and hugged my neck, squeezing tight. Her breath was light and warm on my skin. She shuddered as she gripped me, "Mmmm... I like it when you hold me, Uncle Patrick."

"I was thinking the same thing..."

"Do you want me to orgasm you?"

I kissed her lips, "No... not tonight. Let's get some sleep, okay? Maybe tomorrow..."

"'Kay... Love you."

- - -

August came in with a roar, booming thunderstorm waking the two of us before dawn the next morning. Piper, it turned out, was not afraid of the loud, threatening rumbles and sharp smacks of lightning strikes. She swept back the curtains from the bedroom window and watched the flashing light show outside while I stretched and slowly stood.

I watched her a moment, a lightly-lit silhouette against the black outsides, lit more brightly during the rapid, staccato splashes of light from the storm. The soft teardrop of Piper's bottom was surely the most perfect thing I'd ever seen. "Don't move a moment," I told her, opening one of my equipment cases and taking out a camera I liked to use with low or varying light conditions. I drew the focus to Piper's butt as she continued looking out. Turning on burst mode, I hit the button many times over the next few minutes, hoping to catch a few timed just perfectly.

She turned back at one point, smiling softly, and I snapped more with the girl's lovely hair loose and half-covering her face, mostly in shadow but shining bright when the lightning broke out beyond her.

To say Piper was an amazing model diminishes the reality of watching her thrive as I captured her. She knew how to lean her head back, to turn her shoulder and open up a shadowed view of her young, flat chest, to smile, not too much, but softly, sensually, giving me perfect stillness before moving into another position and settling again for my shots. She was beautiful, gentle with me as the artist. No, that's wrong. Piper was the artist, I was just capturing snapshots of her work. The world was her canvas, and her body became the brush strokes.

Even in the darkness, I saw puffy, red eyes, but there was also genuine enjoyment of posing for me, of offering me the chance to capture just a bare sliver of her beauty, of her artistry. There was a surreal quality to the moment, the lightning and Piper's sadness and her innocent, slender form combining to elicit a mix of emotions from me.

After long minutes spent capturing Piper's lovely form, some in mostly shadow, others with flashes of white-yellow lighting her body and the trees and grounds beyond her, she stopped posing and said, "Can I take some of you?"

I offered her the camera, showed her how to adjust for the light conditions, how to ensure the burst mode was on, and all sorts of other considerations for the dark room's turbulent lighting. "Where do you want me?" I asked.

"On the bed," she replied.

So, I stretched out, telling her, "I'm not much of a model, Piper, you'll have to tell me what you want me to do."

"On your back, like, relaxing," the girl said, bringing the camera to her eye.

I did my best, not one used to being on the other end of the lens. Piper snapped several shots, then had me move myself slowly, cocking a knee up and turning towards her slightly, one elbow bringing my upper body into an inclined position. More shots, then another move onto my stomach, then to my back again.

"Touch it..." she told me.

"Hmm?"

"Your wiener."

"Penis," I corrected her.

"Your pe-nis."

I did so, grabbing my flaccid cock and holding it as she requested. Piper giggled a little, "I like that one," she said after admiring the photo she took seconds earlier.

I began to grow hard, both because of the attention I was giving my dick but also intellectually and creatively aroused to see how much the naked girl was enjoying being the one to direct the shots. She giggled again. "Can, um... Can I try something?" she asked.

"What?"

"Just let me try, um..."

Piper crawled onto the bed and my legs spread a little around her. She leaned over me, holding the camera out from her body, aiming it right down to where her lips were resting against my erection. "How do I know if it was okay?"

"The picture?"

"Uh-huh."

"You'll have to look to be sure, but... I can take better ones from up here," I replied. Piper handed me the camera. I was shaking lightly, excited, nervous. I knew what we were doing was capturing proof of what others would see clearly as abuse. I couldn't stop, though, wrapped up in Piper's eagerness and her enthusiasm for what we were doing. The girl rested her lips so that only the very tip of my penis was between her pursed lips, the ten-year old holding a gentle kiss on my flesh. I took several shots, then Piper sank her lips down more, pausing, more pictures, down even further. I could feel her tongue twitching, her head hovering in place as I captured the girl with my cock well inside her mouth.

She started to hum and I vibrated. "Hard to concentrate," I breathed. I did my best, though, as Piper began to move steadily up and down my length, no longer pausing to let me snap clear poses. She closed her eyes, sucking me. She still was a long ways from giving an 'adult' blow job, her movements slight and careful and without any of the urgency she's surely seen in the porn videos she'd watched. And I was very much thankful for the gentle, lovely pressure she used as her lips moved an inch up and then an inch back down, sucking, slurping when her saliva drooled out.

I was on the edge quickly, straining. I had so much experience with the camera that my hand operated separtely from the pleasure-swamped parts of my brain, not consciously paying attention to the photos I took, but somehow keeping the aim rather steady as Piper blew me to orgasm. My semen rushed out and into her mouth. Lightning flashed outside, washing the scene in brilliant light, Piper's lips locked around my swollen cock, cum spurting thick and pungent into the ten-year old's mouth.

She pulled back when I'd finished, and her camera-awareness was fully in place. I caught my breath, washed in her love and the pleasure of her lips, my penis still twitching out small bubbles of silky cream to run down my shaft and onto Piper's grasping fingers. She turned and held a sensual, passionate look for the camera, cum hanging from her lip, more on her chin. I took photo after photo as she carefully swallowed, then used her tongue to clean up what she could reach.

I sat the camera aside and drew Piper over me, her body on mine, and shared a spermy, moaning kiss with the girl until we were both beginning to yawn. After she crawled under the sheets, I gently moved the camera onto a table and then wrapped myself around her again. The surreal moments in the night only made my love for Piper, my fondness for her, my appreciation of her talents and curiosity and vitality, grow stronger with each heartbeat, each burst of Piper's warm breath on my shoulder as she drifted into sleep again.

- - -

Piper was gone from the bed when I awoke some time later, still in darkness. The storm had move on, it seemed, no rumbles of thunder to be heard, no more lightning flashing outside. I stretched and rose, finding the bathroom door open but no Piper inside. I called her name but heard no response. I peed quickly, checked the red numbers on the digital clock in the kitchen which read five-twenty-two, then put on slacks and a shirt, opening the door to my apartment.

The girl was sitting quietly on the front step in the dark, rain still coming down softly, but no more stormy conditions remaining. "Piper? You okay?"

She turned her head, smiling sleepily. Thankfully, she'd put on a t-shirt and leggings and wasn't just sitting naked in the open. "Yeah... just wanted to sit and think."

I sat beside her and pressed my side to hers, putting an arm around her shoulder, saying nothing a moment as I listened to the light rain tinkling on the leaves and bushes and soft ground.

"That was fun, Uncle Patrick," she told me, leaning her head onto my shoulder, "I really liked getting to take pictures of you."

I smiled, kissing the top of her head, her raven hair brushed out and silky. "I did, too, though I'm not even in your league as a model, that's for sure."

"Oh, I dunno, you did pretty good."

"I had a good coach."

Piper laughed easily, "Well... I've been coached enough, I guess."

Quietness descended a while and I heard Piper's stomach growl. "Hungry?"

"Yeah."

"We might be able to slide down to the diner, think they open around five."

"Cool."

"You doing okay?" I asked carefully, hoping the girl's mournful emotions were upgraded to melancholy, at least.

"Yeah. I'm hanging in," Piper said quietly, "thanks to you."

I hugged her tight, then stood and held out my hand. Piper took it and we went inside to get ready to walk down to the diner in the light rain.

- - -

A Wednesday morning at a simple diner well outside of Los Angeles could be an interesting place to people watch. By the time we were seated at a small table, I'd seen college students and business professionals, third and early-shift workers in uniforms, off-duty cops and nurses, and a couple of young women who probably had aspirations for acting or modeling at some point in their lives but were now, most likely, stuck in crappy jobs and still clinging to their dreams. Or so I imagined, anyway.

Piper ate her blueberry pancakes and milk with gusto, which was a good sign given how lightly she'd touched her food the last few days. I stuck with my standard scrambled eggs, fried ham, toast, and coffee. We talked little, saying nothing more about our surreal moments in the night. The din in the diner grew the longer we sat, and it was starting to give me a bit of a headache. I got a coffee to go, paid the bill, then we left and begun the twenty-minute walk back to my apartment.

The sun had come up enough to light the densely-cloudy sky overhead, but it was still grey and dreary, rain sprinkling at times, then disappearing, only to wash in again moments later. I held the umbrella over us, mostly over Piper, but we managed to get rather wet anyway on the walk back.

- - -

Piper wanted to work on her new routine, so while she diligently documented her evolving sequence of moves in her sketchbook, I decided to see if I could find any information on the Internet about Veronica. I thought maybe she might have social media accounts, or perhaps had joined some public organizations and would show up in member lists or in photos. Anything to try to find a connection to the woman and her whereabouts. A few hits came up for her name, but the first several were some other Veronica Olivier and not Piper's mother.

One organization listed Veronica Olivier, Delaware Beach on its donor page. I knew from Piper that the town was a former home for the mother and daughter, so it seemed like a possible match. But it was an international non-profit dedicated to ending sex slavery and offered nothing further about my high school girlfriend.

Coming up otherwise empty, I tried image searches, but found nothing of Veronica. I did find, however, one image of Piper. Her mother's name was how the search linked the two, but I recognized my young lover immediately. She was standing alone in front of a fountain, possibly in a park or in an affluent mansion grounds. Piper was maybe six or seven, but even then, she was strikingly beautiful. The same midnight hair, same pouty lips, and her brilliant blue-green eyes shined with a softness I saw in the girl daily. She wore a simple white and beige dress down over her knees, no makeup, her hair left hanging loose over her shoulders.

The photo was cropped, an arm around her shoulder from some man who was cut out. He wore a golden band on his ring finger, and the lines on his flesh suggested someone much older than me. The photo was hosted on a simple webpage dedicated to "legal" images of preteen girls. None of the images were sexualized, but the captions often identified the girls or the context. For Piper's image, it read, Piper Olivier, courtesy of mother Veronica Olivier. No other clues to the photo's origins, I downloaded the image and kept searching.

Nothing else came up of the girl in that search. When I searched Piper's full name, only the image I'd found earlier matched even after browsing several pages worth of search results, though there were many other girls and women who appeared to have the same name as my young protege.

I let out a quiet sigh of frustration and turned from the couch to see Piper swaying around the broom handle, holding it with one hand, the free wooden pole tucked into one knee. She moved in a circle, dipped, and rolled off the broom.

I slid into the bedroom and grabbed one of my nicer cameras, quietly moving behind where Piper was sketching while leaning over the small table nearby. Her cute bottom spread her leggings nicely, the purple fabric showing her cleft in the middle. I snapped a few shots, then took more when Piper returned to her practice and whirled through her motions.

She saw me after a few moments, smiling, then started to pose. I took several lovely shots of her before I realized I'd interrupted her work. One of the key things about professional event photography is to never become part of the scene. My job, my skillset, demanded only that I capture the shot, not influence it. The exceptions, of course, were posing models or staged scenes. I'd taken Piper out of her natural practice and influenced her to, instead, turn model.

I sat aside the camera, "Sorry," I said, "didn't mean to distract you."

Piper grinned, "It's fine. I like posing for you, Uncle Patrick."

"I know," I smiled, "I'll let you get back to your work."

She did so and I pulled out an old laptop I hadn't used in over a year. I decided that the special, private shots I took of Piper, and those she took of me, should never travel beyond my apartment door. There was far too much at risk to take those with me or put them in cloud storage I used for personal projects. Not that what I was doing for ModelLight, or Gunther and Lena, would be any less risky, but I felt a little better when I transferred the images from the night and that morning onto the isolated device and cleared them from the camera memory cards.

I came back into the living room and Piper was sitting on the couch, knees up and feet against her buttocks on the cushion, thighs together but spread just enough to form a very slender, tight camel toe in the crotch of Piper's purple leggings. The wet spot there was rather obvious, and visible sweat was still on her brow. She had her eyes buried on her tablet, and the sounds of competition dance music were playing quietly.

"How's it coming along?"

Piper shrugged, "Alright, I guess. I need a pole. The broom isn't really helping practice..."

I pursed my lips. "Dunno what I can do to help. No way I can put one in, Piper."

"Is there, like, maybe a practice place? You know, like, where they do dance lessons? They sometimes have a pole I can use..."

I thought a moment, "Might be, but... That's risky, Piper, letting people see you doing your pole work? Your routine is rather sexualized..."

"Like, not this one," she told me, "I've been trying to make it, like, just flow. I promise..."

"There is a dance place a few miles East, maybe we can take a look after lunch."

"Okay, cool..."

Piper sat aside her tablet and stood up, "I need a shower." She started to peel off her leggings, then froze with the fabric pulled halfway down her bottom, Piper turning back with her nose scrunched up. "Do you really like the way I smell sometimes?"

"Always, Piper," I told her honestly, "You always smell amazing."

"Cause I think I'm stinky..."

My mouth watered. "Want my opinion?"

Piper giggled, "Uh-huh..."

As she turned towards me, I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her, then sniffed her sweaty neck and hair, "Mmmm..." I purred. Moving down further, I smelled Piper's armpits, a clean, lightly briny scent there, and something just a touch sharper, a hint of what the girl's odors might be as she matured. Down further, I sniffed Piper's crotch. Sweaty, fragrant, still strong from our play in the night, enhanced by her motions, her dancing, and, I knew, her arousal that day. "God, Piper... You smell amazing."

I turned her and bent her over the couch, knees on the cushion, pushing the table behind me out of the way. I dragged down her leggings, then pressed my face right into Piper's teardrop bottom. My nose was full of her scents. Ripe ones, soft ones, the smell of horny, unwashed little girl filling me with arousal. I felt her shudder when my tongue swept through her cunt, the flesh there salty and meaty and mouthwatering. I licked Piper clean and probed her vagina, teasing out slippery juices from her silky entrance.

She began to moan and I pulled out my cock, stroking it as I ate Piper's little pussy. "Nn... Nn... Nn... Ohhhhh..." the girl panted, "Nn... Nn... Mm..."

Her hips dipped, then did so again as she pressed her erect nub onto my tongue. I inhaled her, sniffing her bottom, her hairless flesh, her tight little holes, tasting Piper's growing excitement in my mouth.

Piper moaned loudly, almost enough that I worried it might be heard upstairs or in the neighboring apartments, "Nnnnnnnnnn! Nnnnnnnn!" But I couldn't stop, licking the ten-year old, swallowing her juices, sliding over her clit until she was quivering in orgasm. "Nnnnnnnn! Ohhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh! Mmmmmm! Mmmmmm... Mmmmmm..."

I was almost to the edge of release from eating Piper. I rose and kept her on her knees with one hand, swiping my glans along Piper's slit, tempted to push in, but keeping my promise to wait until things were just right. Instead, I used my hands to fondle the girl's buttocks while sliding my cock along the cleft between, her tight anus sweaty and odorous and slippery. Precum spurted out, thin and tight, after a few thrusts, splashing onto the middle of Piper's back.

I stroked through her lovely channel, her teardrop bottom squeezed around my shaft. It almost felt like I was fucking Piper. I shuddered and jerked, "Oh, Piper... Oh... I'm... I'm there... Oh... Oh... Oh-oh-oh! Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhh!" I ejaculated tightly, thin, creamy spurts of my seed splashing into Piper's black hair, catching there, more on her back, and at the end, creaming along my shaft and around her butthole. I shivered with pleasure, rolling off the girl and sliding under her, kissing her lips, tasting her arousal and enjoyment. Her thin arms wrapped around my neck, her body rocking softly with mine. When her vulva made contact with my cock, I nearly pushed up and into her body.

She rolled off me before that urge became too strong to reconsider. Piper smiled, then headed off to take a shower, leaving me breathless and stuck for a while on the couch, basking in the pleasure the ten-year old had given me.

- - -

The dance studio was open and allowed walk-ins to use the facilities, though we had to sign Piper up for a membership first. I paid the fees and then Piper and I got a tour of the place. The studio had three different floors, one a general use with rails along the sides and mirrors all around. A second featured a smaller floor, with padding on the walls, and the third held eight poles, which the woman guiding us said were used when they offered pole fitness lessons.

The young agent, her name Janie, asked Piper about her experience, and the girl dutifully explained that she was a dancer and sometimes included pole work in her exhibitions, and did so without further explaining the exact nature of those events. The pole instructor was out at the moment, but the woman said Piper was free to use it until a class came in later that afternoon.

Piper had her sketchbook with her and got about her work. She shucked off the leggings and t-shirt she wore, and I almost jumped in fear that she was stripping down completely. Instead, Piper wore a pair of tight dance shorts which only covered her thighs a couple of inches below her crotch, the fabric pressed hard against her skin. I was thankful that it appeared Piper wore underwear, or at least that the shorts didn't form in a way to so easily demonstrate her immature folds. The top was a tight black workout halter. Piper had no breasts to push out the fabric as it would have shown on more mature girls.

Just before she started working through her routine, I told Piper I was going to walk around nearby, and I ensured she had her phone on her then promised I'd check in an hour later.

I wandered down through the suburban neighborhood nearby. I didn't get out of the apartment all that much when I was home, usually getting more than enough of such things during my travels, but it felt nice to explore an area I'd never been before. It was a typical Southern California layout, compact, older homes with a neighborhood pool, a soccer pitch, and a couple of nice, open-space parks.

I sat on a bench and watched people walking dogs, jogging or running, a few couples walking hand-in-hand, and children on bikes, blades, and boards racing by me. I knew I needed to find some way to get Piper engaged with the world beyond just her dancing and modeling and me. It wouldn't be easy, but the girl deserved, needed, to spend time being a child and getting to know other kids her age. I knew the risks this would bring, a slip of Piper's tongue could easily bring the police right to my door.

But it was selfish to hold back what Piper needed for fear of being jailed for what we'd done. I'm not saying it was easy to battle those thoughts, but I promised myself I would ensure Piper came first in all things, and integrating Piper into a more normal childhood, excepting what we did in privacy, was vital for her growth. Just how to do so, I couldn't yet figure.

I returned to the studio and saw Piper still at work. There were a half-dozen women and two men taking a beginner's dance course from a tall, well-muscled instructor in her fifties. I sat and watched a moment. Janie, the woman who'd showed us around came over and sat down with me. "Your niece is quiet good, you know."

I smiled, "Yeah. She's dedicated."

"She should join our competition team."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Ten or twelve girls who do the regional competitions around LA. Nothing major or anything, but we manage them and help them get exposure to such things, so that, if they want to compete in bigger events, they can do so. Piper, she already competes?"

"She does..."

"Which circuit?"

"Uh..." I couldn't tell Janie the truth, "not really sure. Uh, Piper just came to stay with me recently. Long story. I'm just getting into her life right now... Not sure what she's been doing."

Janie frowned quickly, then nodded, "Well, I think she's probably too good to bother with some of the local events, though, if she's gonna stay with you awhile, she might like to join the team, anyway."

We talked costs and expectations, and I told her that I traveled a lot for work and Piper would go with me, but it sounded like something worth making available for the girl, so I signed her up.

Piper came out of the locker room a bit later and, despite an obvious shower, was still a little flushed from her workout.

"How'd it go?"

She beamed, "Super! Can we come back tomorrow so I can practice more?"

I nodded, "I don't see why not."

I told Piper about the team sponsored by the studio and the girl was thrilled, chatting a while with Janie about the monthly competitions. The next one was only four days after London for us, and I couldn't promise that my next gig might not interfere since it was just one day before when I expected we'd be making the extra-long trip to Australia for the next ModelLight competition. Given that travel to Australia can be tricky at times, I had already considered going a day earlier in case of delays. Piper was still eager to try to make the competition, and she agreed she would love to meet the team's manager the next day for a tryout.

At least, I thought, it was a step towards what I'd been hoping to do earlier that day. It might let Piper be a girl again, at least on a social level. She needed to meet and friend other kids, I believed, and spending some time with a team of fellow dancers, as young as eight and as old as sixteen, might do just that.

- - -

The storms moved back in that evening, and Piper and I curled up together to watch the last two Harry Potter movies together.

"Are you excited?" she asked me as the final credits rolled.

"About?"

"About Monday, silly," she laughed.

"Oh. Lena and Gunther..." I honestly had been pushing away thoughts of that surreal future event, still troubled and uncertain, but far too committed, in several ways, to reconsider my decision to do the private shoot for them. "Yeah..."

"Me, too... Like, I, uh, you know I kinda never saw it before. Not, like, what they're gonna do."

"You've watched adult videos..." I reminded her.

"Yeah," she said, shrugging, "but I know those are, like, not real sexing."

"Umm... What do you mean?"

She looked up at me, her blue-greens darker in the low lights of the room but still brilliant, "Well... like... they act, right? Like... when it's you orgasming me, like... you don't act like the boys in those things. And... like... I dunno, I don't think I sound like the girls, either. Like... it just seems sorta fake."

I laughed, "A lot of them, yes, they're acting. I mean, they are most definitely having sex, but, yes, a lot of their reactions are well-practiced and sort of scripted."

"Are there, like, any of real people like us?"

"Like us? Uh..." I replied, "Yes... but those are really, really illegal... but if you mean videos of people who aren't professional porn actors, then... yeah, amateurs film themselves all the time."

Piper pursed her lips, "Oh, I didn't know that." She thought a moment, then added, "Like last night? Like... we were amratrures..."

"Amateurs, yeah, like that."

"Hmm..."

After her seconds of silence, I asked, "So, what do you think you'll see Monday?"

"Oh, I dunno," Piper said quietly, "I just hope Lena enjoys it, really. Something like I think about, when you're ready, how you'll orgasm me and sex me like I want it..."

I was intrigued, "You've thought about how you want your first time to go?"

"Uh-huh, I... I even sketched it..."

"You... sketched it..."

Piper said she'd be right back, returning a moment later from the bedroom with a small pad, half the size of her routine sketchbook. Piper flipped open to the first page and I saw there a lovely image of the girl herself, from the side, on her back on a bed, head turned towards the artist, her far knee cocked up, just a hint of her hairless slit drawn in the image.

Piper yawned but continued to show me her drawings. The next showed her spreading open a little wider, a third showed a man, me, crawling onto the bed with her. The couple, the fantasy 'us' to Piper, kissed and then I was moving over top of her. Piper's knees were spread, her feet closer to her bottom than before, and I was between them. Though the view between Piper's thighs was obscured by her leg, the look on her face, her chin up, her eyes staring into mine, her lips parted, suggested I had just penetrated her at last.

"Jesus, Piper..."

She yawned again and said, "That's the last one... I might do more... but... um... you get the idea."

"What made you do this?"

She shrugged, "I dunno... I was thinkin' about Lena's first time and how that might go, you know. Then I thought about you and me doing that and... I just wanted to, like... draw it, so I'd remember."

"Amazing imagery," I told her, almost suggesting that I finally accept her gift right then. Her next yawn told me that the timing wasn't right, and instead I drew her in for a hug and kiss, then suggested we get some sleep.

Patrick, Male, 25

	- Narrator, professional photographer

	- 5'9, beige skin, 165lbs, muted-brown bangs

Piper, Female, 10

	- Child model

	- 4'7, tanned beige skin, 90lbs, blue-green eyes, straight raven-black hair