I was teaching at a school in Savannah, Georgia when I met Winnie MacDougal. It was a large elementary school - grammar school, some of the older people called it - and it was what was called a "Charter School." Our primary curriculum was in teaching primarily the artistically inclined while not forgetting the basic reason for schooling - reading, writing and arithmetic. My position was in the drudge classes, I taught third grade science and math to kids whose parents thought their progeny were budding Rembrandts or Beethovens. It was all the same to me.

My last girlfriend and I had gone our separate ways after she'd accused me of staying with her only because I liked her daughter. It was true, but her daughter and I hadn't managed to reach the "touchy-feely" stage and Caroline, I don't think, ever realized my real motives. She was just a very possessive woman who didn't like to share anything, not even her bag of candy with even her own daughter. At any rate, I wasn't moping. I had other feelers out and other prospects in the mill. Being a "dirty old man" type, I'd recently moved into a block of apartments that advertised a warm, homey, family atmosphere. I'd checked it out and it was. It was full of young families with lots of young children and young teens, exactly what I was looking for. Among all those kids I was sure I could find one or two that felt in need of a friend. I wasn't particular. A sweet pre-pubescent boy was about the same as a sweet pre-pubescent girl as long as we could keep it discreet and in my apartment.

We were about three weeks from Summer Recess when I met Winnie. I was cleaning up and organizing my classroom as I got it ready for the movers in July. The school was finally getting it's promised renovation, adding fifty more classrooms and getting rid of the temporary classrooms like the one I was in. Next year's promise was a brand-new building to teach in. Meanwhile, I worked in a building by the playground.

I'd noticed Winnie before. She had a pronounced limp, congenital was all I knew. Still, she was sweet looking, had nice lines and a very pretty face. She was in the First Grade and generally snubbed by her peers because of her limp and her strong Scottish accent. She was a recent transplant from Great Britain, having come to live with her mother's only sister and her uncle. Her parents had died in some sort of a fishing accident and the only other relative was a grandfather who couldn't tolerate children.

I was working stooped over, packing books and finally straightened up, my back no longer able to maintain the position. I figured I'd take a break, go get some water and sneak a cigarette in the Teacher's Lounge, then come back and get some work done on next year's lesson plans. As I massaged my back, I caught a movement by my door, a flash of blue and white, not our school colors, but I ignored it, stretching as I walked to the door. Reaching for the doorknob, I glanced down toward the bench by the door. A pretty little face looked up at me and smiled.

"Well, hello, Winnie," I smiled.

"Hello, sir," she returned with the cutest Scottish burr I'd ever heard, looking up at me quizzically. I'd seen her before, but her name temporarily eluded me.

"Mr. Martin," I answered her politely unasked question.

"Of course, Mr. Martin," she smiled sweetly, "and how do you do this fine afternoon, sir."

"Oh, I do very well, thank you, Miss MacDougal," I grinned as her name flashed into my mind, bringing a shy flush to her cheeks.

It suddenly hit me how sweet and pretty this little girl was. She immediately sent me into the arms of lust. This was the girl I wanted, the girl I'd been looking for, I realized. Inspired by my lusty greed I hit on a quick idea.

"Winnie, I need some help getting all my things in the classroom organized and packed for the summer and I was wondering . . . would you be willing to help me out?"

"Oh, yes, sir," she immediately, and very eagerly, answered, "when would you like me to start? I'm on free recess now, I could start now, if you'd like."

For such a young lass she was well-spoken and had a good grasp of the English language, unlike some of the local - well never mind we'll just leave it at that. In any case, I loved the sound of her voice and her lovely Scottish accent.

"It's a deal," I grinned, "I'll tell you what, I have to step out for a few minutes. I'm out of water in the cooler and besides," I cupped a hand beside my mouth adding in a stage whisper, "I smoke and I need a cigarette, okay?"

"Okay," she giggled, tapping a finger to the side of her nose conspiratorially.

"If you like, you can come in and I'll leave you in charge until I get back, okay?"

"Ooh, yes, sir. I like being in charge," she stood up, grabbing her book bag, all ready to go as she grinned up at me.

I had also noted the difficulty she had in climbing stairs, so I stepped down and offered her my hand. To make it difficult for her to refuse, I gave the proffered help a little twist.

"Shall I be of assistance to Milady? My hand, your Ladyship," and I bowed low, playing the part of a knight, stretching one foot out and almost kneeling on the other.

She giggled and took my hand, I smiled into her flashing blue eyes. Her black hair and creamy skin set them off beautifully. Up close, her face looked a little rounder, but it was the roundness of the child and she was still a very pretty girl. As she stepped inside, I came in behind her, still holding her soft, little hand. She made no move to pull it free and I held it pleasurably, leading her into the cloak room behind my desk. There was a jumble of books and folded boxes, nothing I couldn't handle in a couple of days, but I wanted her company and the time to get to know her better. I'd spotted her in my apartment complex, but I didn't think she knew I lived in that same complex yet.

"So. This is the majority of the pile I have to pack up and get ready for the movers. Then cleaning and dusting and just generally getting the old room in good, clean order," I smiled down at her, then in my best Scottie - from Star Trek - burr, I added, "d'yer think ye can 'andle 'er, MacDougal?"

She giggled at my bad impression and snapped to attention, looking like Shirley Temple as she saluted smartly.

"Aye, aye, sor! Oi c'n handle 'er. Aizie."

"Oh, yeah," I dropped the accent and took her hand again, shaking it and making her arm fly up and down as she laughed, "good. I don't know if I could," then I smiled and dropped all the comedy, "seriously, Winnie. I really appreciate your help."

"That's okay, sir," she smiled, "I'm really happy to help."

"Well, thank you," I looked down at her, "well, I gotta go smoke my cigarette, back in a few minutes."

"Yes, sir," she smiled as I headed for the door.

"Oh, and, if you sit at my desk, I won't mind, just be careful with my paperwork on the desk, stack it off to the side if you need to," I waved from outside the door.

"Okay, 'bye," she waved back.

Mrs. Johnson, Winnie's homeroom teacher, was in the Teacher's Lounge as I came in. The screened in back deck was our smoker's area. It was usually crowded between classes, but as the summer drew near, we all came and went at our discretion.

"Mrs. Johnson, I'm glad to see you," I smiled pulling my cigarettes from my cubby hole.

"What do you want, Mr. Martin," she muttered, a frustrated look on her face and an empty pack of cigarettes in her hand.

"Well, first, here, have one," she smoked the same brand I did so I figured it would smooth out the frown on her face. I was right, she smiled and took the proffered cigarette.

"Thank you," I held a light for her, "you are a gentleman and a scholar - of which we're all aware - and a fine judge of character," she added smiling, "what did you have in mind?"

"Nothing major," I snorted in laughter, taking a drag on mine, "I just wanted to let you know that I've got Winnie MacDougal helping me organize a little. She's the odd kid out and seems to need a little TLC, something she evidently doesn't get much of among her peers, you know?"

"Yes, poor darling, but then, school's almost out and the torment will be over until next year," she smiled with a slight shrug.

"Oh-kay," I snorted again, but not in laughter, "homeroom's next period and I planned to use her help through homeroom, if that's okay with you."

"Certainly," she nodded, "I'll just mark her present in another classroom."

"Thanks," I tossed my cigarettes and lighter in my cubby, "help yourself if you need another smoke later," I smiled, "I never take them home with me."

"Thank you, sir," Mrs. Johnson smiled, "it'll save me from cutting class to go buy a pack," she chuckled at her joke.

We both laughed as I left. I swung by the cafeteria and cadged several cartons of juice and a few squares of brownies from the following day's preparation on the way back to my room. I hoped Winnie would appreciate them. I intended to become good friends with her - real good friends. When I got back, Winnie's book bag was on the first desk, but I didn't see her at first. Then I heard some rustling and a few light thumps from the cloak room, my erstwhile store room. Setting my booty on the desk, I stepped inside. Winnie was on her knees, several open boxes neatly arranged beside her. I watched without her being aware that I watched as she picked up a couple of books at a time and checked their titles, then put them into one box or the other.

"Damn," I thought, "this girl is serious."

I cleared my throat and she looked up in surprise.

"Oh, goo'ness me," she exclaimed, "ye sooprized me, ye did."

"Sorry about that," I chuckled, turning back to my desk, "break time, come on, I brought you some juice and some brownies, "by the way, I talked to Mrs. Johnson and told her that you were here, so if you haven't got any plans, I wouldn't mind the company. I don't have a homeroom so it gets mighty quiet in here all by myself."

"I'd like that, sir," she smiled, "I don't have much homework to do and nobody really wants to talk to me much," her accent got heavier as we talked and she got less self-conscious about it, "I'd like it fine, thank you."

She really sounded much older than she was and smiled again as she thanked me for the snacks and sat beside my desk in the visitor's chair. We talked as we snacked and I learned a few things about her. She talked freely as if she hadn't had anybody to talk to in a long time and as she talked, I understood more about her - her parents had been lost at sea, another pair of commercial fishermen lost while out fishing and she'd come to America to live with her auntie and uncle because her only other relative, her grandfather couldn't or wouldn't take her. The uncle, Uncle Dan, was a salesman and was usually gone from Sunday night through Thursday night or Friday morning. Her auntie, Auntie Muirne, was the general manager of a convenience store and usually worked the third shift, the busiest time of the day, from three to eleven besides any other times she was called in. She usually got Sundays off, but sometimes had to work, so she wasn't home much either.

Uncle Dan evidently treated her like furniture, largely ignoring her. From what she told me, I gathered that she felt like a lost little waif. No mother, no father and essentially nobody that cared for her. She usually got dressed by herself and went to school. When she came home, there was usually nobody home and only some food in the microwave with a note to put it on for so many minutes and eat. My lust mixed with pity as well as my protective feelings and I wanted to make love to her and shelter her and protect her - what a mix. However, those feelings only served to heighten my covetous desire to have her.

After snacks, we went back to work, intending to pack books and clear shelves, but just as we got started, the bell ending recess sounded. Out of habit, Winnie grabbed her book bag then remembered that I'd cleared her from homeroom, smiled weakly at me and set her bag back down.

"Did you want to go to homeroom?" I sat on my desk watching her.

"No, sir!" she answered almost too quickly, then smiled in apology for snapping the answer out at me, "it's just that I, uhm, I usually do my homework during homeroom," she smiled feebly.

"Got any homework?"

"A little bit, not much."

"Got your books with you?" I gestured at her book bag, "you can go ahead and do it here if you want. The packing will have to take a back seat to school work."

"Yes, sir, I do," she picked up her bag.

"Well, then, by all means," wondering what kind of teacher gave out homework during the last couple of weeks before summer vacation, "I've got these lesson plans to turn in by the close of business on the fifth of June. They'll keep me pretty well occupied and quiet while you do your homework."

She smiled and nodded, mouthing a silent thank you. She found a seat she liked, right in front of my desk, and pulled out her school books. I set to work, digging out the published requirements for the following year and fitting them into scheduled, orderly class periods to match the allotted times. I'd almost forgotten about Winnie until I glanced toward her. The view I got almost made me drop my pencil. She'd set her feet so her toes were point first on the floor, the soles pressed flat against the upright chair legs. Her legs were slightly spread pulling the sides of her dress into a flat tent across her slightly pudgy, nicely rounded little thighs and I got a view all the way to her nylon panties. Now, I'd seen up other little girls' dresses before and had always gotten a small thrill from it, but what got me with Winnie was that her panties were apparently a little loose and one of the leg bands had slid all the way to the side, baring her tightly pursed, fat, baby pussy lips. They glistened and pouted insouciantly at me. I lost track of what I'd been thinking and stared at her hairless little box in rapt fascination. When she squirmed, it seemed to smile crookedly at me, tempting and inviting me.

I glanced up at her face at the same time she raised her eyes and looked at me. Her eyes were wide and blue and, as I smiled warmly, her face flushed again. Just before she ducked her head shyly, I saw a wide happy grin cross her face. That was good. It meant that my ultimate goal of getting her into bed had just taken a large step in the right direction - she liked me. I could almost feel her pudgy little thighs slapping the sides of my hips. Hopefully, she'd become infatuated with me - I knew I was completely infatuated with her. She shifted her feet and her knees dropped, covering my view or her glistening delicacy. I dropped my pencil atop my work and got up. Winnie looked questioningly up at me from her books.

"Gotta check on something," I vaguely explained walking into the cloak room, I had to do a quick jack off, "just stay right there, I'll be right back."

She nodded as I quietly unzipped and walked to the very back of the cloak room, stepped behind a stack of books just a little more than waist high and gripped my stiff dick. Bringing her glistening little pussy to mind, I paused, a sudden thought crossing my mind. Wait - glistening? That meant that she'd been creaming at least a little. But what about? Could it have been about me? I didn't want to seem too egotistic, but I hoped it had been about me and as I jacked off, I imagined that she had her soft hands wrapped around my shaft and her sweet little bow of a mouth on the head, suckling as she jacked me off. The image was so tantalizing that it only took me a few seconds to shoot my load. With a soft splat it spattered against the cloak room wall.

I still didn't feel satisfied, but at least I'd taken the pressure off. I pulled out my handkerchief and wiped my dripping prick, the wall and the floor where I'd dribbled. Tucking myself back in, I got back to my chair just as the warning bell sounded. Two minutes to take-off I grinned to myself as Winnie put away her work and packed her books. I decided to take a chance. I wanted to see how far she'd go with me. I wanted to find out if it was me she'd creamed over, to gauge how fast a chance I had at her baby pussy.

"How would you like to share a pizza with me, Winnie?" I shuffled my papers together and stacked them neatly to the side, "I think we've earned a little reward for our hard work. I know I have," I smiled at her.

"Pizza?" she suddenly brightened then frowned, "um, I'm not sure Auntie Muirne would approve," she hesitated.

"Oh? Doesn't she like pizza?" I acted just the slightest bit offended, trying, with body language, to push her into accepting.

"No, no," she sighed sadly, "she loves pizza and I love any kind of pizza, um, next to McDonau's," she gave it the Scottish pronunciation, "b-but . . ."

"Um, I see," again I pretended to be trying not to be offended.

"No, please, see, Auntie Muirne has a dish in the microwave machine for me, so I have to eat it."

"Okay, but if you tell your Auntie Muirne that you'll be having a pizza party at school tomorrow, then she won't worry too much and we can share a pizza, right?"

Her eyes darted around, looking for all the world as if she was trying to escape.

"Think of it as a reward for the hard work you've done today and the hard work you'll do tomorrow. In fact, I'll have it for us during homeroom tomorrow afternoon, does that sound good?" I smiled gently and as innocently as I could muster.

Her eyes brightened and quit darting around. A slow smile crossed her lips and she pushed her little chest out, arching her back and pressing her fists on the chair between her legs as she rocked forward.

"Okay," she nodded, the shy smile replacing her happy smile, "I like pizza with root beer," she giggled, "and, and, and lots of cheese."

I laughed as the last bell rang.

"It's a deal," I chuckled, "wait, wait, what do you like on it?"

She paused as I stood up to see her to the door, she ducked her head shyly as I stepped out and boldly took her waist and lifted her, setting her on her feet on the path. I held her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. Kids, rushing to the buses, glanced at us curiously, but kept on going. She seemed oblivious to it all as she stared up into my eyes wordlessly.

"What do you like? Pepperoni, Italian sausage, mushrooms, bell peppers, pineapple . . . what?" I urged hurriedly as the seconds ticked.

"Yeah," she answered breathlessly.

"Okay, little miss," I turned her to face down the path laughing as I gave her a gentle push, "go before you miss your bus."

She smilingly glanced back at me several times as she limped reluctantly down the path. I went back into my room after she turned the corner and disappeared.

"Soon," I thought, "real soon, little girl, real soon. Maybe next week if I work it right. Don't want to go too fast and scare her away."

I finally gave up trying to understand the logic of the lesson plans with the illogic of Winnie's fat, glistening pussy playing in my mind, so I packed everything in my briefcase, grabbed my old windbreaker and headed home. I had a pizza with Winnie in mind and jacked off three times, once I got home, but none of my hand-made orgasms was very satisfactory now that I'd seen Nirvana so close. It had been almost a year since I'd had any pre-pubescent pussy. Not since I'd last visited my sister and her father had unknowingly shared their little girl with me - and she had a sweet pussy.

The next afternoon, I called for a pizza delivery to the Teacher's Lounge, ordering two large and one medium pizza. The two large were to leave for the other teachers, not wanting to seem odd, and the medium for Winnie and me. When the driver called my cell phone and told me he was coming in the gate, I put little Charlie-the-Snitch in charge of the class and headed out. I'd paid for the pizzas with my card over the phone, but in my elation, I gave the delivery man an extra tip anyway. I'd brought my windbreaker and covered the smaller pizza with it as I carried it into the classroom. Stashing it in the cloak room, I took back the class and put everybody to reading a story of their choice until the warning bell rang. As the last bell for the last full period of the day for me rang, I leaned back and waited. Winnie soon knocked on the door. I stood and went to answer it. Without saying anything I smiled and stepped down to the ground. With a slight bow, I reached down, took her waist and lifted her up to the floor. Once I stepped inside, she smiled and gave me a wobbly curtsy. She giggled and I chuckled as I stepped into the cloak room and brought out the pizza.

"It's a little cool by now," I apologized, "but I like cold pizza just as much."

"Oh, me, too, sir," she gave me a fawning smile, "I simply love cold pizza."

I was right. A school-girl crush - or so I thought. I loved it, and I could definitely use it to my advantage. I didn't know that she had sized me up another way. Not until later.

"Well. You want to eat first then, or do a little work then eat?"

I smiled at her and reached out, pushing back a stray curl of black hair. She blushed and dropped her eyes shyly. I dropped my hand to her chin and cupped it, raising her face to look into them. Her face came up, but her eyes still remained downcast.

"You're very pretty," I whispered, "and you have very beautiful eyes. May I see them please?"

She shyly lifted her eyes and peered up into mine. They were the most beautiful blue eyes I'd ever seen. Her mouth fell open slightly and, unable to help myself, I managed to control myself enough to lead her into the cloak room. She followed me docilely. I could feel her wide eyes on my back. She didn't know what I was about to do, but she seemed very willing to do whatever I asked. I lowered myself onto a box of books and drew her by her soft hand to me. Bringing my hands up to the sides of her face, I cupped it gently, drawing her to me. Her mouth gaped open slightly as she stared at my lips. Her hands came up and pressed cooly on mine, wrapping her fingers around my thumbs as I pressed my mouth to her soft, yielding lips. She gave a little half-sob, her eyes still wide and staring into mine. As I slid my arms around her tiny body, she wrapped hers around my chest. I had her standing between my legs and my stiff prick pressed against her thighs. I thought, at the time, that she didn't realize what she felt there, although I later found out to the contrary. I tilted her face slightly to the side and experimentally pushed the tip of my tongue between her lips. I felt the quick intake of breath around my tongue as she gasped, but instead of pulling away, she closed her eyes and softly suckled on my tongue as I pressed it into her sweet mouth.

"Um-m-m-m," she moaned softly.

I slid my lips from her mouth to the side of her chin, nibbling gently as I slid my hands up and down her sides, caressing her soft, pre-pubescent body. As I nibbled her throat, I ran my hands down past the hem of her skirt, onto her bare knees, then up under it to the curve of her sweet buttocks not daring to reach into her panties. Not wanting to scare her off. She gave a little moaning whimper and slid her arms under my arms, gripping my shoulders from underneath tightly. As she nuzzled my neck, she seemed a little too sure about what she wanted. I didn't realize it at first, but she wasn't the innocent I assumed she was. However, I didn't want to rape her, not here, not yet, so I held back and slowly pulled away.

"No, honey," I whispered, "not here. Not now. Okay, sweetie? Hm?"

She pulled back her eyes wide and staring almost wildly into mine. Who knew? Who knew that inside this sweet little kitten was this wild, baby panther just itching to explode into lusty action.

"Uh-huh," she whimpered.

"There's more, sweetheart, lots more," I whispered, "but this isn't the place nor the time, okay? I'll show it all to you, but not here, okay?"

She nodded and took a long, quavering breath, her whole body shivering. She hadn't cum, but I knew that she was wet. I didn't have to feel her, I knew. If her little pussy had been damp before, I was pretty sure that it was dripping hot now.

"Okay, baby?" I raised her chin until her eyes met mine again.

"Oh-oh-okay," she gave me a tremulous smile, "it was so good Mr. Martin. So good."

"I know, sweetheart, but I can promise you, it will be a whole lot better when we do it right. Can you wait that long? Hm?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded, then as I smiled, she sighed again, "when?"

"Is tomorrow night too soon?" I grinned.

"All the way til tomorrow night?" she almost whined feigning a collapse into my arms.

I would have chuckled had I not been so damn horny, instead, I hugged her and, under her skirt, caressed the firm, little rump under her baggy panties. I wondered about those baggy panties, were they her aunt's? Or did she just like them baggy? I figured I'd find out some other time. She was, to my surprise, very wet and I felt the slick dampness on her lower buttocks. I gave her one last caress, carefully keeping my hands away from her pussy, and stood her back up.

"No more fun?" she asked wistfully.

Those words set me back a little and I stared at her for a few seconds before shaking my head and smiling.

"No more fun . . . for now," I shook my head, "not here at school anyway, okay?"

"Okay," she pouted.

Suddenly, she grabbed my ears and pulled me in for a last lingering kiss, opening her mouth and sucking on my tongue. She was a voracious little girl, I thought as I peeled her off me. She had definitely had some experience. I wondered if she was still a virgin, even as young as she was. Well, I'd soon find out.

I led her out of the cloak room and sat her across the desk from me, popping open the pizza box. As I flattened the box and shoved the pizza onto the center, I heard a quick rap at the door. As usual, I had the door and all the windows wide open. I loved the early summer breezes coming off the ocean here on the coast.

"Hey, Martin," Sam Neely, one of the Honors teachers stepped up the stairs, "just dropped by to thank you for the pizza - hey, I see you got my prize pupil here. How are you, Winnie?" he grinned at her.

"You're quite welcome, have another slice, Mr. Neely?" I offered.

"No, no thanks. Gotta keep off the cheese because of the fat, and the marinara sauce does a dam-dam on my colon," he was an Army veteran, never made it into combat, but he liked to use the phrases to make himself sound like he had.

"Well, feel free."

"Hi, Mr. Neely," Winnie smiled and took a healthy bite of the cold pizza.

I lay my slice down and wiped my hands, standing to shake his hand.

"Did you know that this little girl got two awards from the Carnegie Foundation this past year and they even offered her a spot on the Carnegie Honors Committee?" I shook my head, "yes! She's gonna bring a lot of credit to our little school," he patted her head condescendingly, "we're very proud of her."

"She's a marvelous little girl," I half-turned as if to set my napkin down and smiled, giving Winnie a quick wink.

"Yes, the name Winifred Ailene MacDougal will be a name to remember," he puffed his chest out proudly.

"It sounds good already, Mr. Neely," I smiled impatiently, "Winnie's helping me get my room organized and in order for the summer recess and we were just taking a quick break."

"Well, far be it from me to keep you from your work," he smiled affably, "I'll just leave you two to your snack, then. Have a good day and, Winnie . . ."

"Yes, sir," she looked up, her mouth full of pizza.

"Keep up the good work, my girl."

Had she been a boy, he probably would have given her a gentle punch on the shoulder. As it was, he only doubled up his fist and swung it at the empty air.

"Yes, sir."

"Bye," he turned and almost fell out as he missed the first step down.

"Whoa, there," I jumped forward, but he caught himself, turned and gave me a triumphant grin at having kept from falling on his face.

I turn to Winnie smiling. She had a wide-eyed look and both hands covering her mouth in startled surprise and fear of him falling.

"What a man!" I chuckled, shaking my head disparagingly.

Winnie looked up at me and smiled, then broke out in a fit of giggles as I laughed. We ate a couple of slices of pizza each then tackled the semi-ordered mess in the cloak room. She pressed against me occasionally as we talked and worked, chatting as if we were old friends instead of just having met the couple of days before. Among other things, she let slip that she'd sat at my bench many times hoping that I'd notice her. She said that I was as handsome as her Uncle Eoghan who wasn't really her uncle, just someone that she'd always called uncle. She told me that she'd stayed with him and his family whenever her Mum and Da were out fishing or had business errands to run. She added that she'd go with her parents to market to sell their catch and that they'd often go by a customer's restaurant first to let him have first pick, adding that her middle name was her mother's first name and Winifred was a name her father rather fancied. She ran on about how much she'd liked the little restaurant and how the eldest of Mr. Robert's daughters would give her tastes of the sauces she cooked to layer over the fish.

When I felt my back twinge I sat back on a full box for a quick rest and she quickly took advantage of it, slipping between my knees and pressing her hip to my stiff prick. As we talked and I caressed her back, she surreptitiously rubbed her hip up and down on it. Gulping with lust, I managed to get a few questions in, managing, in a roundabout way, to discover that one of the main reasons she was so taken with her Uncle Eoghan was that he'd sit her on his lap the minute he got home from work and they'd play. From her roundabout statements, I gathered that he managed to keep her quiet by caressing and fingering her baby pussy, often making her cum several times before his wife or older kids would interrupt with dinner or a snack or a hot cuppa.