BRITANNUS [shocked] Caesar: this is not proper.
THEODOTUS [outraged] How!
CAESAR [recovering his self-possession] Pardon him, Theodotus: he is a barbarian, and thinks that the customs of his tribe and island are the laws of nature. -- G. B. Shaw
The music flowed from my fingers, ta dah di, ta dah di. Okay, so I was only playing two chords, the tonic and dominant and a five note melody, but I was playing it. And the five note scale is the basis of music the world over.
I'd always wanted to learn to play the piano. I love music especially the classics. But I never learned to read or play music. Then one day I saw an ad for a new method of learning the piano. It was pioneered by an Aussie fellow and consisted of learning to play by sight and hand memory as opposed to years of practicing scales. It promised to have me playing music in six months. I signed up that day.
The plan was a group lesson each week with individual work as needed. The group lesson had ten students, all kids except for me. Most of the kids were being forced to take lessons and they acted like it. They ranged from maybe seven up to eleven or twelve. There was one girl, a little older who was quite beautiful in a Lolita way. Dangerous. She mentioned the local high school when asked where she attended so she was somewhere between fourteen and eighteen. I am lousy at guessing ages but I would have gone for the lower number. Unlike the rest of the kids she was determined to master the piano and always came prepared to perform whatever song we were doing.
Sitting at the piano, she started playing. Her left hand, the chord hand, was flawless. She made the structure of the song so clear I was amazed. The melody flowed around the chords as she played. It sounded like a pro. I closed my eyes and let the sound carry me away. How could she make such a simple little song sound so well? When she finished I thought I should clap before I realized where I was. Thankfully, I didn't make a fool of myself.
She came over and sat in the chair next to me. "I'm Mike," I said.
Regarding me off handedly, she said curtly, "Dolores."
At least she didn't say 'My name is like Dolores.' "Your left hand was wonderful," I said.
Her eyes lit up and a smile bloomed, "Really?"
"Oh yeah. The way you did the chords. I wish I could play them that well," I said.
"I didn't think anyone would notice. I worked all week on the chords. I bet I played them seven hundred times," she said exaggerating only slightly I'm sure. Another student was about to start and the instructor hushed us. I made a face as he turned back and she giggled behind her hand as the next student began the same song.
I got my turn next and tried to make the chords flow as hers had done but there was just the slightest irregularity in the beat. Syncopation is fine in ragtime but not when you're playing a folksong. I almost slammed the top down on the piano as I finished I was so mad. The instructor took one look at me and said, "You did fine."
"I didn't do half as well as Dolores," I said.
"Yes you did," he said. "You did exactly half as well." The tension evaporated as the students all broke up and I had to join in. I looked at Dolores and her eyes were bright with mirth as she mimicked me banging away at the keys. When we quieted down the instructor had me do it again, phrase by phrase, showing me how to better control the tempo to even out the beat. It sounded like a song by the time I got through and I was mollified.
As I sat next to Dolores I smiled and she smiled back. "I'll show you how," she said before we got shushed again. The rest of the lesson was pretty boring, watching the kids all make the same mistakes and not really caring if they played the song well. It bothered me that I had never had the chance these kids had and they were wasting it. I wished I could tell them how glad they would be in twenty years if they knew music, but I didn't know how to convince them. Maybe they would never notice the lack in their lives. It was a very sad thought.
As we were leaving Dolores caught my eye. I stopped. "I was serious," she said. "I could show you how I do it." That's all I need for my ego - a teeny bopper showing me how to play the piano. Then I remembered that Mozart was writing operas at her age. "You live near Garden Park don't you?"
"Yeah. Just down the street. 2548 Oak Street," I said.
"I only live a few blocks away. Tomorrow, after school?" she asked.
Without much thought I said, "Sure. Anything that will make me better."
She smiled and danced away to a car that was pulling up. The woman driving looked like an older version of Dolores. As they drove off Dolores looked my way and smiled.
That night I started to think about what I had committed to. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. That's all I needed was a cute little teen coming over and the neighbors getting the wrong idea. I was old enough to be her father plus a few years.
But I wasn't going to start anything and I was sure that a pretty young woman was not going to find me much of a catch. Lolita is an interesting book but it isn't real. I decided there really wasn't anything to worry about.
The next day Dolores showed up as promised. I had been practicing - trying to get the tempo to flow as the instructor had shown me. I was beginning to suspect the same rhythmic challenges I had while trying to learn how to dance were going to mess with my music playing. Maybe there was something wrong with me and I was never going to be able to play music. That was a dreadful thought. Dolores's arrival swept my maunderings away. I opened the door and she bounced in full of mirth and sunshine. The piano was in the front room so we headed straight to it.
She sat down and said, "Here. This is what I do with the chords," and she started playing the song.
I listened to her glide through the piece. "Wonderful," I said when she finished. "How do you make it so smooth?"
She moved over and patted the bench. I slid in next to her. The seating was quite tight. "Like this," she said. She played a few chords that start the song and then stopped. "You do it." I tried. Then she played it on the high keys as I played the bass line. Having her playing it at the same time helped. Pretty soon my ear was forcing my hand to match her rhythms. By about the fifth run through we played almost perfectly together. I started to laugh from the sheer joy of making a beautiful sound.
I was doing it. She laughed with me. "I'll play the low and you play the high this time," she said. We crossed hands and played it again. It was comical as our hands and arms got all tangled. Soon we were laughing like crazy. She started to clown. I put my arm around her to play the chords on the highest notes and she leaned across me to play the melody on the deepest bass notes. It sounded atrocious and made us laugh even more.
In a fit of high spirits Dolores bounced into my lap and took command of the center notes making me play the high and low parts around her. Pianos are not built for two sets of legs and she had to push back into my lap to get her legs comfortable. Up till then I had been laughing and clowning and not really thinking of Dolores as a desirable woman. But with her butt pushing into my lap as she squirmed around to play the music and chase my hands around the keyboard, I noticed - this was a beautiful young woman in my lap.
The predictable happened. I tried to think about scales and chords and melodies as her cute little ass rubbed against me. It was no good. Woodie rose to the occasion. I was wearing lightweight slacks and it soon became apparent to Dolores as well. She stopped playing and turned her head back to look at me. I was embarrassed as all hell.
"Is that for me?" she asked.
I felt the heat in my face. "Dolores, I'm sorry. Really, I apologize. I didn't try to... I mean, it just sort of happened. I mean, you were in my lap and my body just did it."
"Oh," she said. "Does that mean you don't think I'm attractive? It was just a body thing?"
"No, No," I stammered. "You are a beautiful young woman. I mean, you are very attractive and that's why it happened." The words just tumbled out and as I heard myself my mind started to think about what I was saying. Mike boy, you are screwing this up royally. "What I mean is I'm old enough to be your father and I shouldn't, well, you know, get like that."
"Why not?" she said quizzically.
"It isn't proper to let people see, you know. I should have kept it hidden," I answered.
"It is hidden," she said. "I can't see a thing."
That made me smile even in my discomfiture. "Very funny."
"So, you think I'm beautiful?" she asked.
"Oh yes," I said.
"Even though I'm sixteen?' she asked.
"Yes, even though. Yes, you are beautiful," I said.
"No one but my dad has ever told me I'm beautiful and he doesn't count. So I guess that makes you the first. For that you get a reward." She leaned back and kissed me briefly but with intention. I didn't know what to say. This whole thing had spun out of control as far as I was concerned and my mind wasn't working very cogently. She was still in my lap and I felt her moving her butt around making Woodie even harder. "I like to feel you like this. Is that terrible?" she asked.
I shook my head and said, "No, of course not. It is normal. Everyone likes to know that they are desirable and this is undeniable proof, isn't it. But I'm not supposed to do this and I could get in big trouble so maybe..."
She cut in, "No you can't 'cuz I would never tell anyone. Ever. Even under torture or making me take algebra I wouldn't tell."
I had to laugh, "Algebra?"
"Yes, even if I had to take algebra again I wouldn't tell," she said with a bright smile.
"Thank you," I said. "But we are here for me to learn to play this beast." I put my hands on her hips and pressed to the right to encourage her to move.
She pushed back against me and held her position. "Okay let's play," as she started the next song. It was very hard, no pun intended, to concentrate on the music with this pixie in my lap. But I worked at it. We played through several more songs with Dolores leading me and me matching her rhythm and tempo. I was hard the entire time and I could tell that she would squirm at times feeling me pushing against her butt. Finally it was time for her to go. She slid off my lap and stood. I wanted to stand but that would have caused a huge tent and I couldn't face that. I was feeling embarrassed again.
"Can I come again?" she asked.
"I should say no but I really liked playing together with you. Next time, we play side by side though," I said.
"Chicken," she said.
"Yes. I am," with a smile.
Dolores stood there expectantly and I knew she was waiting for me to see her to the door, the polite thing to do. "I can't stand," I said. A concerned look flashed across her face. "No, not like that. I mean if I stand up then, how do I explain..."
She glanced down at the tent in my slacks and figured it out. She rolled her eyes and said, "So you're just going to be rude?"
The perfect riposte. I was trapped. Swallowing I said, "You're right." I stood, jamming my hand in my front pocket trying to hide the too obvious bulge. Dolores smiled and rolled her eyes again. I saw her to the door and held it open for her.
She put out her hand forcing me to pull my hand from my pocket. As I did she glanced down, "You don't need to be ashamed," she said.
"I'm not ashamed. Maybe a little embarrassed," I said smiling.
She held my hand as she said, "Well, I have to get going."
"Yes," I said.
She looked at our hands and finally released mine. "Bye," she said, a last glance at my condition and she turned and started away.
"Bye," I called after her. I closed the door and went to the window so that I could watch her. She looked so cute walking away. I couldn't take my eyes off her. She looked back as the house next door came between us. I couldn't tell if she could see me staring. Another step and she disappeared.
Oh the thoughts I had. My mind was running wild the next few days. Dolores was so damn good looking and desirable and innocent and yet knowing all at the same time. She hadn't been shocked when she felt my erection against her cute little ass. She had reveled in it, squirming around, feeling it against her. She had smiled appreciatively. Was she too innocent to know what that meant? No, she had known very well what it meant and she had felt complimented which of course a woman should. There is no more sincere compliment than an erection. A man can't lie about that.
I would lay in bed at night, close my eyes and Dolores would come to me filling my mind with thoughts I knew I shouldn't have. I made love to her so many times in so many ways and so many places over the next few days I lost count. Ah, poor Humbert, I was finding out what his pain and longing were like.
My fantasies ran away with me until the next lesson. I arrived and immediately looked around for Dolores. She wasn't there. I had a horrible premonition that she had told her mother what had happened. Her mother, of course, had pulled her from the class. I would never see Dolores again. As I was sinking into despair, the door opened and Dolores appeared, a smile brightening her face as she crossed the room with a saucy bounce in her step. My spirit rose from the depths and scaled the heights. She bounced over and sat next to me. She smiled for me and then turned toward the teacher. I was happy.
Looking back, this all seems so melodramatic and silly. I was old enough to know better. When I was young I had my infatuations, as we all do. I had tasted the sweet honey of first love and the bitter fruit of unrequited love when every glance carried so much passion, so much meaning. I had outgrown these sophomoric passions, hadn't I? Yet here I was, afflicted and silly as a callow youth. It was very unbecoming and had I noticed how silly I was acting I would have stopped it immediately.
So I squirmed in my chair as I watched child after child wretchedly assault the Ode to Joy and waited for Dolores. Delicious Dolores seated at my side. Finally, it was her turn. I sat tensely, straining to see as she started playing. Once again, she played effortlessly. The music soared from the piano and filled the room. I was again amazed at how easy she made it seem. Yet I knew she had not had more lessons than I. I felt envy. How could I harbor dark emotions for her? The darkness faded as she finished and turned to me, smiling. I smiled back. She returned to her chair, smiling shyly. "Once again, you were wonderful," I said.
"Thanks. I worked really hard," she said before the teacher shushed us.
I sat through the rest of the lesson aware of Dolores sitting by my side. My senses were at fever pitch. A slight move and I noticed. At the end of the lesson the teacher thanked us all. Dolores bounced up and headed for the door. I followed, discreetly, cut off by the horde of children rushing for the door. When I gained the door Dolores was standing by the road. I was about to walk over when a car pulled up. It was the same woman I had seen before. Dolores climbed in and was gone.
Confused, I found my car and went home. What was I to think? Why had Dolores not even spoken to me after class? As I maundered, in between my fantasies of Dolores and me in wild sexual scenes, I reached the only sensible conclusion. I had let my desires run away with me. I had supposed Dolores felt as I did, which was ridiculous. Of course she didn't think of me sexually. She had been flattered by my obvious attraction but she had to think of me as an 'old man.' My bubble burst with the realization. The nice thing was that I didn't have as many fantasies running away with my mind day and night. I still had a few. You hate to waste good fantasies but they certainly quieted down now that Dolores had become unattainable.
I was much calmer at the lesson the following week. Dolores came in and took her seat next to me as usual. I smiled and she returned it but that was all. It confirmed my suppositions. I was just an old guy who had complimented her with his hard on. I had to face facts. Dolores probably knew exactly what it had been. I recalled reading about a recent study the CDC had completed on the sexual behavior of teens. The average age of first intercourse was 13.8 years. Half of the teens in the study had their first boff before they were 14. Dolores must have already had a boyfriend and learned the Ars Amore. For her, it must not have been a big deal. I mean it was a big deal, just not in that way. I mean, it wasn't little. Oh, never mind.
The teacher called me to the piano first. I sat down and started to play. Unfortunately, with all of my fantasies and maunderings I hadn't practiced as much as I should have. And not having Dolores before me as a good example, well, let's just say my playing sucked and leave it at that. After I finished I looked up at the teacher. He had knowing eyes and asked, "Didn't have time to practice this week?"
"Um, it was a very busy week. I guess it shows," I answered.
"Maybe you could put in a few extra sessions this next week and get back on track," he said gently.
Guiltily I said, "Yes. I'll work on it." I slunk back to my seat. How bad is that, embarrassing yourself in front of a bunch of ten-year-olds. I didn't look at Dolores, I couldn't.
Halfway through the next student's set I felt a hand on my thigh. I looked up, startled, to see Dolores looking up at me. Quietly she asked, "Can I come over Saturday? You need help."
I nodded. Her hand went back to her lap. I need help. Damn, but she was correct in more ways than she knew.
At the end of the hour Dolores bounced up and without a backward glance headed out the door. By the time I made it out the door the car carrying Dolores was down the street. I got a little mad at myself. I was determined to master this damn beast, the piano. I spent the next several evenings banging away until my wrists were sore. I'd show Dolores that I didn't need help.
Mid-morning Saturday I heard the doorbell. I didn't expect anyone this early. I opened the door ready to tell them, No, I don't want the Watchtower. Dolores was standing there. I was stunned. She was wearing, or more accurately, not wearing quite an outfit. She had on a skin tight micro mini that just barely covered her butt. For a top she was wearing two small triangles of cloth held together by string. Oh and sandals. That was it.
"Can I come in?" she asked.
I stepped aside closing the door after her. "Did your Mom let you out of the house in that?"
Dolores laughed, "God no. She went to the store so I changed into this before I left."
"And how are you going to get home?" I asked.
She showed me her purse and then pulled out a thin jersey and baggy sweat pants. "I'll put these on before I get home. What she doesn't know won't kill her."
I started to say something and then remembered, my friends used to pull the same stunts when we were that age. I laughed, "We used to do the same thing."
"Really?"
"Dolores, take my word for it. Kids have been doing the same stuff for hundreds of years. And parents know it too," I said.
"My Mom doesn't know. She'd kill me," Dolores said hastily. I smiled inwardly. No use arguing. "Anyway, I need to help you. God, you killed that song."
"I've been working on it," I said with a touch of defensiveness.
Dolores went over to the piano and sat down. She patted the bench next to her. I slid in but made sure that my legs were well under the piano. No way could she hop into my lap. She started playing the song, then stopped and had me play the first phrase. "Hey, that was pretty good. How come you murdered it at the lesson?"
"I had a lot on my mind last week. Truth is, I didn't practice very much," I said.
Dolores turned toward me and said, "Bad boy. You know you're supposed to practice."
"Guilty," I said laughing. "You're not going to spank me are you?"
Her gaze turned serious, "I've heard some guys like that."
Too serious. I started playing the second part of the song. I looked at Dolores as I finished and I noticed that the twisting around had caused her skirt to ride up. It couldn't go much higher, I thought. I had to swallow as my throat had become unexpectedly dry.
"You did that pretty good," she said. "Let's do the next one." She started playing. Glancing her way my eyes were pulled as if by a lodestone to her legs. More of her legs were uncovered and the skirt was creeping even higher. My stomach was making funny little flips and flops. My eyes traveled up. The triangles of her bra didn't cover her breasts entirely. I could see the beginning of the swelling of her mounds before they flowed under the cloth - Being partially exposed made the view terribly erotic. It was just a promise without the detail and made my mind create the rest of the picture. My breath felt constricted. I couldn't take a deep breath.
I felt Dolores's thigh pressing against mine and looked down. Her legs were apart enough to have forced the skirt still higher. I saw a dark patch and at first assumed it was her panties. But Dolores twisted again forcing the skirt even higher and I got a clear picture. She wasn't wearing panties. I stared at her pubic hair. It was dark but not thick. I could see the faint outlines of her lips through the sparse hair. I started to panic. I needed to send her home now. But I was lost in the view. My body didn't listen to my mind - it reacted as millennia of natural selection had trained it to react. I was filled with desire to couple with this nubile nymphet sitting next to me.
I noticed the music had stopped. How long ago I didn't know. I looked up. Dolores was smiling. "You like?" She put her hand on my thigh and then slid it higher. I was filled with tension as if a million volts of erotic energy had zapped its way through my body. My cock was instantly hard. She looked down and my eyes followed. "Is that for me?" she asked.
"Yes," I answered simply.
"I don't have to be home until dinner," she said.
"Huh?" I asked.
"I told Mom that I'd be gone all day. I don't have to home until six. I can stay all day, if you'd like," she said.
"Dolores, do you know what I think you are saying?" I asked her solemnly. She nodded. "You sure?" She nodded again but there was a hint of unease in her face. The way she was biting her lips, she was filled with tension I could sense rather than see. "What do you think of my playing today?" I asked changing the subject.
"It's pretty good, today," she said smiling again.
"So if we don't need to practice all day what did you think we'd do?" I asked.
"We could talk, or do things," she said looking down at the keyboard.
I put my finger under her chin and lifted her face toward mine. "Dolores, I think you are desirable beyond belief." She smiled. "And this outfit would drive any man crazy. I don't think it's fair at all you not wearing anything under that skirt," I said.
She laughed and then turning her body toward me crossed one leg under the other leaving her legs completely open and giving me a beautiful view. "I wasn't trying to be fair," she said affecting a sultry tone in her voice.
"Are you trying to seduce me?" I asked.
"That's not the way it's done," she scolded me. "You are supposed to sweep me up in your arms and kiss me."
"Like this?" as I pulled her toward me and kissed her, our lips touching gently and then harder, then parting and finally our tongues dueled and danced.
"Yes," she said breathlessly as we broke the kiss. "That's what you are supposed to do."
"And then what?" I asked.
"You are supposed to sweep me away," she said.
"To where? No, that's okay. I can guess." A rising sense of panic filled me. But it was exactly offset by a rising tide of desire. Desire, panic - which would win?
Dolores was watching me and in that instinctive woman's way she saw the conflict and knew how to get what she wanted. As I started to speak she put her fingers to my lips. "Don't say anything. It isn't romantic to talk so much. Just kiss me and show me what you want."
I defy any man to say no to a beautiful desirable young woman asking him to kiss her and show her his desire. I am not that man. I leaned forward and kissed my beautiful Dolores. Her lips parted and her tongue teased me. I responded. Her hands came up around my neck. My hands went round her cute bottom pulling her onto me. She straddled my lap, her ass pressing down on my erect cock. She felt it and rubbed against it. She pulled back and holding my eye said, "I'd like to see your bedroom."
I started to help her off my lap when she said, "No, like this." I turned on the bench and stood, Dolores maintained her place, arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. I walked into my bedroom entwined with my lovely nymphet. She smiled mysteriously the entire time. Once in the bedroom I glanced at the bed. She did as well and smiled again. A knee on the bed and I slowly lowered both of us to the soft surface. I covered her with my body and we kissed passionately. My hips moved between her legs pressing my cock against her pussy. I saw one of the strings around her neck and pulled it. The garment came loose exposing her tits. They were small perfectly formed orbs surmounted by hard nipples. Another pull on the string and the little triangles were whisked off the bed. I leaned in for another kiss.
The faintest uneasiness hovered in my mind. I couldn't quite place it. I looked into Dolores's eyes for a sign that I was going too far, trepidation, concern and found no signs. Instead I saw passion and desire, her eyes half closed, her mouth slightly open, her breathing deep.
My mouth slid to her neck, nibbling and licking until she giggled. I kissed down lower running my tongue to and then around her tits, teasing her and then finally as her back arched up pushing her tits into my mouth I kissed and bit her hard nipples.
Lower still, I teased her flat belly before coming to her Garden of Delights, her dark tuft not quite concealing the treasure within. I settled between her legs and gazed at her beautiful pussy. Her outer lips parted as her legs settled open. My tongue, seemingly of its own volition, sought her opening. Licking up and down her pussy she quickly became wet with arousal. I started to concentrate around her clitoris, circling, teasing then lashing it and retreating only to return to the siege again. She gasped and trembled, her head rolling side to side as I lashed her clitoris. I covered her with my mouth sucking her entire bud into my mouth fucking her with my lips, sucking, fucking, licking her. I slid my finger into her pussy, curling it into her, finding her center and massaging her vagina as I continued to tongue and suck her. Her legs trembled as a flush spread over her chest. She was close. I sucked her clitoris into my mouth again, fucking her pussy with mouth and finger as she crested, a moan arose in her throat.
I watched as she quivered from her climax, I held still, resting my tongue against her button but not moving it until her climax passed. When her breathing was returning to normal and the flush had faded from her chest I pulled back, bringing a small moan to her lips. I wanted her now more than ever. I quickly stripped off my shirt, tore off my pants and flung them to the floor. Dolores's eyes had opened, they were full of satiation and yet still wet with desire. I reached for the small skirt which had bunched up on her hips. She raised her butt and it slid off. Between her legs for the second time, this time we were to join as a man and woman are meant, piercing her, possessing her while she takes mastery over me by submitting. My cock pressed against her wet opening. A small moan as I pressed forward and slid easily into her hot welcoming chamber.
"Oh God, Dolores. You feel so good," I said.
"Mmm," she moaned as she pressed against me pulling me deeper into her. Her eyes opened, her face was a mask of desire as she said, "I want it. Please."
I gave her what she desired, slow deep strokes interspersed with rapid shallow ones, teasing and then filling her, bringing her closer and closer, her fingers digging into my arms, her hips thrusting against mine trying to pull a climax from my cock, until I felt her rising and fucked into her hard and deep, rolling my hips at the bottom of each thrust mashing her clitoris and rubbing it hard and nasty and forcing her over the edge... Her nails drove into my flesh but I didn't notice as her climax ripped mine from the depths of my being. I felt my soul spasm and filled my darling with my cum. I collapsed onto her writhing body barely able to hold myself over her. I rolled to her side pulling her with me so that I was still inside her.
As we lay resting, she said, "I knew I could teach you to play piano."
"Well, you certainly played me very well," I said.
She looked confused so I continued, "I mean you got me exactly where you wanted me."
She giggled. "You were pretty easy," she said.
"I guess that wasn't your first time?" I asked.
"Was it yours?" she responded.
I laughed, "Touché."
"Did you think I was a virgin?" she asked her arm and leg lying on me as she pressed herself into my body.
"I didn't think about it at first. But you seemed to know how to do things. And you didn't seem confused or concerned." I said.
"Does that bother you?' she asked.
"What? No, of course not." I said.
"I've had two boyfriends. The first was a mistake. I liked the second one and we did it a lot. I mean, we went together for most of my freshman year. It really hurt when he broke up with me. I found out he was sleeping with another girl, a sophomore. When I asked him about it he denied it but that night he left a message on my phone breaking up."
"I'm sorry sweetheart."
"It's okay. It hurt for a while then I got really mad at him. I mean, I never once had a climax with him. I always had to take care of myself later. So it's not like I was really missing all that much." Dolores turned her face up to me and smiled. "So you were really my first. You gave me my first real time."
I quietly stroked her for a minute or so and thought about all that had happened. I had questions but no answers. Here I was lying in my bed with a beautiful little nymph having just had exquisite sex with her and truth be told I didn't know why. "Dolores?" She nodded. "Why me?"
"You're not supposed to ask a question like that," she said.
"Sorry," I said. "But I do want to understand."
We were quiet for a while. Then Dolores lay her head on my chest. "Why did you ask why me?"
"Because I wanted to know," I said.
"Don't you know why?" she asked.
"No."
"Because I like you. What did you think?" she asked.
"I guess I never thought that. I mean, I'm older than you and I never thought you'd like an old guy like me," I said.
"I like that you are old, I mean older than me. It makes you kinda distinguished. That little bit of gray in your beard. I like it." Her hand tickled my chin.
I smacked her butt lightly, she yelped and tried to tickle me. I grabbed her hands and pushed her back against the bed. She struggled for a while and then relaxed. Our eyes met. I leaned down and our lips met. Just that quickly my cock rose. "Again?" I asked.
"No," she said. "you despoiler of girls." I leaned forward to kiss her but she turned her face away though there was a smile on her lips. She pulled her hand free and it insinuated it between us. My cock had responded to the fresh eroticism in the air. Her hand found it and stroked a few times then she pulled me forward. She seated the head between her labia and rubbed it around until I was coated with her lubricant. I pushed forward entering her again. "No, no..." she said. Her legs went around me pulling against my ass until I was fully inside her. Her hips ground up against me. "I can't stop you from taking advantage of me," she said as she continued to rub herself against me. She dropped the quavering voice and finished, "But if you're going to take advantage of me you better satisfy me too," as I pulled back and thrust into her.
And so went the rest of our first afternoon together.
I floated through the next few days. Never had I imagined something so precious, so wonderful happening to me. Dolores had given me my youth again. Loving her had returned me the ardor of youth. My whole being was energized in ways it hadn't since my youth. I remembered our lovemaking, the passion of youth with the control of age. I laughed for no reason and nothing bothered me. Truly, the world was brighter, the colors more vibrant and details of life more distinct.
At our lesson that week my eyes would constantly flow to Dolores only to find her looking at me. We'd smile and then guiltily look back at the teacher only to find our gazes locking just moments later. After the lesson, Dolores walked from the room with me.
"Can I come over Saturday?" she asked.
Before I could answer the car was pulling up. Dolores saw it and then her eyes darted toward mine expectantly. "Yes," I answered. Her face beamed and she turned and ran toward the waiting car. I watched as she bounded into the car. I glanced at the driver and saw a look on her face, a measuring look. She said something to Dolores as the car started moving. I waited to see if Dolores would look back but she was answering her mother. The car disappeared into traffic.
Dolores arrived late on Saturday. I was pacing in my front room worried that she wasn't coming. On one trip I saw her walking up the street. I met her at the door. "Hi."
She smiled, "Sorry I'm late. Mom kept asking me to do things this morning. I didn't think I was ever going to get away." As I closed the door she came into my arms. "I only have a little while," she said. "I don't want to waste it." We kissed.
I carried her into my room and laid her on the bed. She looked up at me a smile on her face. I leaned over her and our lips met again.
There was an urgency to our coupling. We both tore at our clothes knowing we had precious little time. Once naked Dolores pulled me to her, taking my hard cock and bringing it to her opening. I pushed in but she wasn't ready yet. I started small gentle thrusts, circling around her pussy until I was able to push in a little bit. Then another thrust, and I sunk into her a little more. She was getting wetter as I continued, my cock sinking into her body degree by degree, until my cock was coated with her juices and I could sink into her completely. The urgency returned as I began thrusting into her, hearing her moaning and saying yes, yes, yes almost under her breath. I was rushing to completion, pounding into my little darling until it came, and I did and she did as well.
We celebrated our fourth anniversary, four Saturdays together, with a long and slow seduction. We lay in bed after our lovemaking and talked about piano, and high school and for the first time she began to ask about my world. She was interested in the 'work world.' What was it like to have a job? What was it like to have a boss? She was naïve but also bright and asked some discerning questions. When it was time to go I started to get up. "No," she said. "I like seeing you naked. Lay there while I get dressed."
I watched as she hid her loveliness under jeans and a sweater. Too bad. "You are beautiful," I told her.
She smiled that beaming smile I had come to love. "Next Saturday I want to try some things."
"What things?" I asked.
"I've been reading a book," she answered. I raised my eyebrows. "A sex manual," she continued. I raised my head and started to ask her - when she interrupted, "You'll have to wait till Saturday to find out." Smugly satisfied she blew me a kiss and said, "I'll see myself out, Dear," and swept from the room.
I nearly started to laugh but that would have ruined the effect. After I heard the door close I lay in bed bemused from so much happiness. I thought about Dolores and all of the joy she was bringing me. But there was still the difference in our ages, and lives. I wanted to possess her completely, to hold her, to own her. But I knew that I couldn't. In one of those transcendent moments of real intuition I knew Humbert's mistake. He had taught Lolita to fly and then tried to keep her in the nest, owning her and possessing her. It wasn't possible. His obsession was his downfall. Not his love of Lolita but his obsession with possessing her and keeping her from living. I couldn't make the same mistake. I knew I would have to let Dolores fly from the nest when she was ready. I had given her wings and taught her to use them. I would not make that mistake and so my love of my little Lolita would not have to end in tragedy.
Monday evening I was practicing that week's main piece. For the first time we were playing in a minor key, G minor, Mozart's key of tragedy. I heard a knock on the door. When I opened the door I was stunned. It was Dolores but this woman was almost my age. I am sure the shock showed on my face.
"I guess you are surprised to see me," she said.
"Excuse me but I don't think I know you," I said.
"I'm Dolores's mother, Charlotte. May I come in?" she asked.
"Of course." My mind was racing as I ushered her in. "May I get you something to drink?"
"No thank you. I'm not here for pleasure," she said.
A feeling of dread welled up, "How may I help you." I followed to the heavy tread of the executioner's march.
"You know why I'm here," she said her voice low.
"Why no," I answered.
"Please," she said. "I don't have time for games. I feel sick to even be here, to think what has happened here..." Her eyes became steely. "I know about you and Dolores. I followed her Saturday. I parked across the street and saw the two of you disappear as soon as she arrived. I confronted her and she admitted it all." She paused and waited for me.
"I don't know what to say," I responded.
"I almost called the police right then, sitting in my car and thinking about what you were doing to my baby," she said. I had often heard the phrase 'my blood ran cold,' and for the first time I knew exactly what that felt like. She continued looking at the wall behind me, "But I kept seeing in my mind Dolores, naked, and the cops rushing into the room. I couldn't stand that. And then I thought about the courtroom and Dolores having to testify, to detail the lurid ugly things you did to her." Her voice had a low hissing quality now. "You deserve everything that would happen to you. But Dolores would be punished as well and she doesn't deserve it. I'd like to see you dragged away in handcuffs to prison, to know that child molesters get it in prison." I thought about correcting her - statutory rape isn't the same as child molesting but it seemed a moot point at the moment. "But Dolores doesn't deserve punishment and I can't do one without doing both." She paused and looked at me. "So I'm going to offer you a deal. If you don't accept it, I walk out of here and call the police. You know what happens then?"
I nodded. I was well aware of what would happen then. It all rushed through my mind kaleidoscopically: arrest, trial, jail, all because I loved a woman who was younger than I and because she loved me back. "Yes, I know what would happen then."
"Good, I hope you think about that a lot. You agree to never see Dolores again, never talk with her, never write to her, ever, even after she's eighteen..." she saw the look on my face. "Yes, even after she's eighteen. I know what the statute of limitations is. I can still call the police then. You will never see my daughter again. You will never put your filthy hands on her again. You will never do your filthy perverted things to her again. Do you understand me?" I nodded.
"And to make sure that you can't see her again I want you to move away from here," she said.
"Move?" I asked stunned.
"Yes. I don't trust you. Move or jail. Your choice." I was sick but I nodded again. She stood, "I don't have anything else to say to you. I was going to ask why you would do something so disgusting but I don't think I want to know. Goodbye."
I started to stand but she motioned me down. Her heels made a clicking sound on the wooden floor as she left. The door closed on the rest of my life. I slumped in the chair. What was I going to do? I stumbled out to the kitchen and poured myself a large glass of wine. I stared at the walls of the kitchen, Sell my house? Quit my job? Move away? Because of some arbitrary number, eighteen? I finished the wine and poured another. I felt the tears start as I finished the second glass. I poured the rest of the bottle of wine into the glass.
I stumbled into the front room and slumped into a chair. There was the piano, the instrument of pleasure and of torture. It had led me to this moment, pain and loss. If only I hadn't taken those piano lessons. More tears rolled down my cheeks as I contemplated all I was losing: job and friends and house. I stared at the wine in my glass, the way the light reflected from it's pristine surface, cold and clear so unlike my life. I swallowed the rest of the wine. I remember my head falling back against the chair.
My head throbbed - that is what woke me. I was still sitting in my easy chair. Morning light flooded the room. I stumbled into the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and a shower I was again feeling vaguely human. I considered several options but quickly discarded them. The one overriding truth was that I had no stomach for scandal. I would meekly slink from the scene hoping that I would leave untouched. What the cost was didn't matter. I could rage and scream but it wouldn't change my course, the die had been cast.
I was on the phone lining up a real estate agent when I heard someone at my front door. I opened the door and Dolores flew into my arms tears staining her cheeks. "Oh Mike. I'm so sorry. When Mom told me she parked outside and saw everything I got so mad I told her about us. But I was telling her it was none of her business and then she said she was going to call the cops, and I got scared what they'd do to us and I started begging her not too... Do you really have to move?"
"Whoa sweetheart. Calm down and we can talk," I said. I glanced past Dolores and saw a car parked down the street. A car I thought I recognized. "Dolores, what color is your Mom's car?"
"A dark red color. Why?" She saw my eyes flick up and she turned her head. "No. She followed me."
"We have to call her," I said.
"Mike I want to see you."
"And I want to see you but if your mom calls the police the only way you'll see me is visiting hours at jail," I said quietly.
"That's not right. You didn't rape me. I wanted to," she said.
"I know. But that's what would happen." Mike pulled away from Dolores and picked up his phone. He dialed the number Dolores gave him. It was answered on the first ring. "Hi. Yes it's me. Yes, I know you don't want to talk with me but I have something I need to tell you. Dolores came over to my house. Just now. No, we haven't 'done' anything. She just got here. I'll send her home. Don't bother? Why? You'll come pick her up... Okay, she'll be waiting." I hung up the phone. "I'm sorry sweetheart."
"Mike what are we going to do? She can't make us never see each other again," Dolores said breathlessly.
"She can and she's going to. And there isn't a thing either of us can do about it." I looked up to see the car pulling up outside. "She's here."
Dolores looked out the window and then back at me. Tears started again. It hurt so much to see her in pain and I wanted to pull her into my arms. But the harridan was outside, waiting for an excuse. "I love you Mike."
"I love you sweetheart. I'll always remember you. Have a wonderful life and I hope you meet a man who will be twice as good to you as I could ever have been."
A racking sob burst from Dolores as she turned and ran out the door. Her mother was staring at her as Dolores as ran down the walkway. As she climbed into the car I saw her mother asked her something. I knew the question. What had I done to her? Dolores's head came up and a steely expression crossed her face. Dolores started to yell at her mother and that quickly they were in a screaming bout. Then her mother slammed the car into gear and tore away. I knew I had seen Dolores for the last time.
It took exactly four weeks to get a buyer for my house, nice when the housing market is hot, and to land a new job. It was in LA. Unfortunately LA could be the model for Dante's third level of hell. But it was a job and it even paid more than I currently made.
The front bell rang on the afternoon I was to sign the final papers. The movers were coming in the morning. It was the harridan. "I didn't expect to see you."
"Your house is selling today. When are you leaving?" she asked.
She must have been watching me quite closely. I was tempted to yell and scream at this bitch but I didn't want her to have the satisfaction. "The movers will be here tomorrow. I will pack up and be gone the next day. I am moving to..."
"Don't tell me," she said. "I don't want to know where you are. And make sure Dolores doesn't know either. I don't want Dolores to suffer anymore."
Suffer? Oh yes Dolores was suffering but it wasn't because of me. I started to say you are making her suffer but knew that her mother would never accept that. "Don't worry. I will be gone soon and Dolores will forget, in time."
She looked intently at me. "You never look like this has meant anything to you. Don't you have any feeling at all?"
That was too much. The tears stared before I could stop them. As they rolled down my cheeks I gasped, "I never wanted to give you the satisfaction of knowing how much you hurt me. But yes, you hurt me as much as you are hurting Dolores."
"I never hurt Dolores. I'm protecting her," she lashed back at me.
I turned away and wiped the tears from my face and composed myself as best I could. I turned back and said quietly, "I never hurt Dolores. I never would knowingly hurt her. She's hurt but it's not I who has hurt her."
"You took her innocence," she said menacingly.
I stood mute but my eyes gave lie to that statement.
Her mother understood. "Are you saying... No, she couldn't have. She's too young." She looked at me and my eyes confirmed it. "No, I refuse to believe it."
"I think the most dishonest thing in the world is to know the truth but refuse to believe it because it makes us uncomfortable," I said. She turned away. "That is why I never tried to explain or justify myself. I do care for Dolores even though I knew she and I would never grow old together. I knew I was just a youthful love for her. I knew she would flit off one day."
"A sixteen-year-old doesn't love," she said.
"Oh yes they do. Certainly not with the depth of a person married for twenty years. Not with all of the life experience, not deeply like that. But it is love. It is how she will learn to have that deep and abiding love. I know I was a step on her path and I am happy I was able to share something beautiful with her. I know you think I used her, but I tell you truly, I care for her and would never hurt her or use her."
"Dolores would never have done this. You had to trick her," she waited for my reply. I lowered my face. "Were you her first?" I looked up and then down again. "I don't believe it. I can see it in your face. How many?" she asked.
"You need to ask Dolores those questions," I said. She turned away knowing the way I said it confirmed it.
"Is that why you said you didn't take her innocence?"
"No, that isn't why," I answered.
She whirled back to face me her hand covering her mouth. "I will never accept this. I will never believe that Dolores submitted herself to this..." she paused looking for a word.
"What you choose to accept doesn't change what is," I said.
Her face looked as if I had slapped her. She turned and went to the door. Without looking back she opened it and said, "I am glad you are leaving. I never want to see you again," and she slammed the door closed behind her.
I was drained and collapsed into a chair. I covered my face with my hands. Oh Dolores.
I was standing in my kitchen wondering if I wanted to make something for dinner or would just order pizza when the doorbell rang. It was Dolores. She was in my arms before I could say anything. When I managed to extricate myself I looked at her. She looked happy and I wondered why. "Sweetie, you know you shouldn't be here."
"It's okay. Mom said I could come over," she told me nearly giddy.
I was dumbstruck. She couldn't be lying, the vibes were all wrong for that but there was no way the woman I had talked to that very afternoon would have said it was okay either. Why would she do that? "I need to call her to make sure," I said.
"You don't trust me?" she asked.
"Dolores please. Don't make it about that. It has nothing to do with that. You know I have to call."
She shrugged but again didn't look worried. What the hell? I dialed and her mom answered. "It's me," I said.
"I didn't think I'd hear from you again," she said.
"Sorry to bother you. But I have to ask - Why?" I asked.
"Because I couldn't stand her crying and whining anymore. Because she promised no more crying and that if I let her come over to say goodbye I would never have to hear your name ever again. That's worth it. So, say goodbye to her and good riddance. Her curfew is midnight and she better be home, pervert. Good bye." I heard the phone click in my ear.
"I'll be damned," I said. "Good job, Dolores."
"Huh?"
"Your mom said it was you crying that made her let you come over," I told her.
"I don't think it was me," she said. "Mom was really strange when she came home today. Quiet and kind of thoughtful. She kept asking me how you tricked me into going to bed and I kept telling her it was my idea. I finally told her the whole story, you know, how I jumped in your lap and you got all embarrassed. And how I came over the next Saturday in nothing but the skirt and top and how I made it ride up until you could see. She got mad for me going out like that but I don't care. She asked me why and I think she finally got it that I wanted to. I like you. You made me feel so wonderful. Anyway, Mom went in the kitchen really quiet. She came out a while later and told me I could say goodbye to you. I thought she meant like on the phone but she said I could come over tonight. I was like you, I didn't believe her but she told me I could. I was out the door before she could change her mind. Sorry I'm in my jeans. I wish I could have gotten all dressed up for you."
"Dolores you look beautiful just the way you are," I said. "There's only one way you would be more beautiful."
"Oh," she asked coyly. "How's that."
"On my bed with no clothes on," I said.
"I do like to look beautiful for you," she said as she turned and headed toward my room. At the doorway she pivoted so that her head was the only thing still showing. "Give me a minute and then come on down." She winked and disappeared.
I stripped off my clothes energized as I hadn't been since this whole nightmare started. I followed her into my room. The room was dark except for the light coming in through the door. She was naked, in the middle of the bed and looking deliciously sexy. God, is there anything to equal the look of a woman in heat?
I came to her, pushing her back on the bed and covering her, enveloping her. I knew this time would be for her - to show her how much she meant to me. She sensed it and lay back letting me control our lovemaking. We kissed, languidly at first and then with mounting passion.
The sex was slow and long, this was for her, to show her how much I loved her. I lost count of her orgasms but they came in clusters until she was writhing and mumbling under me. I quit holding back and quickly came myself. I held her until she recovered finally rolling to her side while she curled up next to me.
"Mike, I never felt anything like that." Her arms went around me, "This isn't fair. I finally find someone who can make me feel so good and you have to leave."
"I feel the same sweetheart, exactly the same," I said quietly.
We lay quietly for a while absorbed in the moment. Then Dolores asked, "Mike, where are you moving?"
"Part of your Mother's deal was I couldn't tell you."
"Mike, I learned my lesson. I'll never tell her another thing, no matter how mad I get," she said. "Please tell me."
"I suspect that is a good lesson with your Mom but don't apply that to everyone. Not everyone is going to be like her." I paused thinking about outcomes. "I'm moving to LA but you can't try to see me or even contact me. Your Mother has me in a tight spot until the Statute runs."
"What statue?" she asked.
"Statute, the law. The Statute of Limitations says you have to prosecute someone within a time limit of when the crime occurred. So for us it's six years from when it happened. And California is a real bitch about prosecuting people. They do it even when both parties and the parents of both parties don't want it prosecuted. So until then your Mom has me by the you-know-whats," I said.
"Jeez, the more I find out about this the more I think people must be crazy to write laws like that," she said.
"Not crazy, well maybe a little. It's the Aunt Busy Body impulse in America. For some reason, when it comes to sex there is a strong impulse to make sure nobody has or enjoys sex. So the laws are written as much as possible to punish people for having sex. Crazy, but that's the way it is," I said. "Let's talk about something else."
Dolores looked up at me and smiled. "Okay."
"What do you want to do when you finish college?" I asked. That started us off on a long journey, our hopes and fears and desires. We talked and talked and hardly noticed the time rolling away.
By eleven we were all talked out. And we were certainly erotically satisfied. I started to pull away. Dolores grabbed me and pulled me to her. "It's time," I said.
"No."
I disentangled her arms and stood beside the bed. I put my hand out to her and said, "I would like it if you would shower with me." That brought a smile to her face. She took my hand and I pulled her to her feet. We shared a hot steamy shower. By 11:40 we were dressed. We didn't say anything, I couldn't and I guess she felt the same. I took her hand and we went out to my car. In complete silence I drove her home. I had five minutes to spare. I looked at the house and then at her. Her chin started to quiver, then the tears started, slowly, quietly. Dolores threw her arms around my neck, "I love you, Mike."
"I love you, my sweet Dolores," I said holding back my own tears.
Her arms squeezed like she was trying to hang on for life, then she released me and not looking back threw open the door and ran up the sidewalk. I heard one sob before she reached the door which opened for her as she ran up. As she disappeared I saw her mother looking at me. It was a quiet look. She closed the door and turned out the light. I started the car and drove home feeling completely alone.
LA is an ugly city with no soul. It has a beautiful glittering surface but there is nothing under that surface. People in LA search for meaning in the most superficial ways when fulfillment comes from within. They are fame swallowers who measure their worth by being in the same restaurant as an actor who couldn't string three meaningful words together without a script. There is no there - there.
My piano arrived out of tune. It is interesting practicing on an out of tune piano. New sounds keep appearing in the most unexpected places. When I first arrived I thought about Dolores so much. That last day had me confused. I wondered if her Mother had a change of heart. I called one night and her mother answered. Ostensibly I told her I was calling to let her know I was gone. She was cordial but firm - don't call again, I don't want you talking to Dolores. I volunteered to leave my address hoping she would have it if she ever did change her mind - she said, no need. I'll never know what caused the apparent thaw and chill. And the truth is, by the time Dolores is eighteen she will have left that part of her life behind. It would never be rekindled.
In the months I have been writing this I have had time to find a better position. Seattle looks to be pleasant. I will be moving in a few months and I so look forward to leaving this smoggy, crowded, ugly place. I will be flying right over Dolores on my way to Seattle. I wonder if she will look up as I go by and see the plane and wonder if it is me. In a few years she will probably be in college somewhere and away from her mother. I will be in the phone book and if she wants to find me there is always the Internet. Or will she already have forgotten?
I sit in my front room and as I play the piano I remember Dolores and how she could play so effortlessly. I share a passion with her, a passion for music, which is immortal. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.
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