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Message-ID: <47336asstr$1081476602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Gil Gamesh" <gil04gamesh@cox.net>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 08 Apr 2004 13:41:59 EDT
Subject: {ASSM} The Measure of Man, Chapter 08
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Date: Thu,  8 Apr 2004 22:10:02 -0400
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The Measure of Man is a story of love and sex in the lives of a husband, a
wife, and their three children. The story spans almost four decades in their
lives and tells of their love for each other and for individuals outside the
primary family. The sexual acts described vary greatly but all are within
the realm of those practiced by normal human beings. The Measure of Man is
an epic adventure and will be told in approximately forty chapters.
Twenty-five chapters (1,449 KB) have been completed. Additional chapters
will be published at no specific schedule.

Codes: MF FF mf Mf mF MM Mult fant rom 1st teen cons het group voy safe oral
anal pett lac preg

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gil_Gamesh/www/

Feedback is always welcomed. Use your scissors on my e-mail address to send
comments, criticisms, or requests to:

gil04gameshcutthisout@cox.net



THE MEASURE OF MAN

An Epic by Gil Gamesh

08- Sex at Thirteen

As for you, Gilgamesh, fill your belly with good things; day and
night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice. Let
your clothes be fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the
little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in
your embrace; for this too is the measure of man.

<><><>

CAST OF CHARACTERS:
Kieran Stuart, 27 in story, 13 in flashback
Sioned Stuart, 26 in story, 13 in flashback
Jason_____, 13 in flashback
Allison_____, 13 in flashback

TELLING THE STORY:
Sioned Stuart
Kieran Stuart

(SIONED)

Our son, Kavan, was about six months old when my husband's
parents offered us an unusual present for our third wedding
anniversary: they asked to keep the baby on Saturday night, to
give us a night when we could be free of parenting cares.

My husband and I were invited to a dinner party on Saturday night
with a group of friends. One couple provided the house and all
the others prepared the meal. We had been asked to bring dessert.

I spent Saturday afternoon making apple pies and, at the same
time, playing with Kavan. Late in the afternoon, I gave him his
bottle and put him down for a nap. I had been reluctant to stop
breast-feeding him; I wanted to continue that wonderful
closeness. But now I realized how much I looked forward to
letting someone else care for him for one night. For the first
time, I prepared for him to leave us, packing his food and
bottles, diapers and pajamas. His grandparents were to pick him
up at six o'clock.

The afternoon had been sunny and hot. My husband had worked
outdoors in the yard, in just shorts and sneakers, with a towel
nearby to wipe away the sweat. I stood watching him more than
once. Even dirty and sweaty, I still found him beautiful to look
at. I admired the movement of the muscles in his back and arms as
he moved the stones he was using to build a wall. I was more than
mildly aroused looking at his rear, when he bent over to place
the stones.

Just before five p. m., he stopped and came in the house. I heard
first the shower running and then his humming as he shaved. After
a few minutes passed and he didn't come out of the bedroom, I
wiped my hands and went looking for him.

He was lying on the bed, with the room darkened and the overhead
fan blowing down on him. He was at the foot of the bed, his legs
bent, his feet resting on the floor, with a pillow under his head
and his eyes shut. As I walked in, he raised his head, opened his
eyes briefly, and smiled at me.

"I've had a little too much sun and heat," he said. "I just
wanted to rest for a few minutes before I got dressed."

I stood, looking down on him, finding more than a little pleasure
in knowing that he was my husband and knowing that he was one of
the most beautiful men I had ever seen. He was naked except for a
damp white towel spread across the middle of his body. His
shoulders, chest, and legs were pink from exposure to the sun.
His stomach was flat, almost concave, as he lay on his back.
Under the towel, I could clearly see the outline of his penis,
pointing downward.

I sat down on the bed beside him and we talked about the people
who would be at the dinner. After a few minutes, I started to
leave. "Don't go," he said. "Stay just a little longer."

"I need to clean up the kitchen before I get my bath," I answered

"It can wait until tomorrow. I can't."

"What do you mean?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

"Touch me," he whispered.

I cupped my hand over the mound in the towel, feeling his
testicles with my fingertips, his penis pressing against the palm
of my hand. It was soft but, as I held it, I felt its first slow
firming.

"You smell like apples and cinnamon and cloves and brown sugar,"
he said, and with a grin, "I'd like to eat you."

I slid my hand under the towel and rearranged his penis, pointing
it upward toward his navel. When I put my hand, palm down,
against his penis, I could feel it firming again even more, in
that stage just before it surged into full erection. I looked at
his face and his eyes were still closed.

I turned around on the bed next to him, resting on my left side,
my left arm beside his legs for support.

I pushed the towel upward on his body, exposing just his
testicles and, with one finger, I began to trace circles around
on his scrotum, feeling the firm egg-like glands under the softer
skin. I always wondered what peculiar combination of genes had
caused him to have relatively little body hair and almost no hair
on his testicles and at the same time had caused him to have
genitals which were larger than most men's.

As I played with his balls, I could see the response in his cock,
even covered with the towel. The towel slowly lifted, quivering,
until it stood away from his stomach. I was amazed that something
so soft only a few minutes ago could now lift the towel that
covered it.

I pushed the towel further upward on his body, leaving it spread
across his stomach, and uncovered his penis. It was erect now,
lifted at an angle away from his body, reaching almost to his
navel, the foreskin retracted, exposing the reddish-purple
underside of the head. From my viewpoint, it seemed like an
arrow; I knew how it could pierce to the heart of me.

As I looked at it, I felt that familiar hunger to feel it inside
me, that emptiness wanting to be filled. Rationally, I knew we
had no time for the leisurely lovemaking I preferred. Kavan's
grandparents would be coming in less than an hour. We needed to
leave shortly after that for the dinner party and I hadn't even
showered yet.

"Please, don't stop," he whispered, again without opening his
eyes, just those two words. I decided to give him what he wanted.
I also determined to get what I wanted later, when we returned
from dinner.

I left for just a moment, to get a bottle of baby oil from the
bathroom. When I was back, I dripped a generous trail of baby oil
from the head of his penis downward over his testicles. I started
again with his testicles, gently coating them with the oil,
lifting them, caressing them, watching the effect this had on his
penis, as it changed its angle from his stomach.

When I put my hand on his penis, it felt hot to the touch, heavy
in my hand, and too large for my fingers to reach around. I
started to stroke it slowly, sliding my encircling hand from the
head down to the base and then back up again. When he groaned
softly, I began to increase the speed of the strokes. I changed
my position so that I could hold his testicles with one hand,
pulling gently downward on them, while with the other I continued
the same long strokes up and down on his penis. Within a minute
or so, I felt a tension in the muscles of his legs and hips. I
increased the speed of my strokes again, determined to make him
come to orgasm this way, to save my own need for later tonight.

Even so, the suddenness of his ejaculation surprised me. The
first spurt lifted out of the slit on the head of his penis,
flying a foot or more into the air, in a continuous white stream,
falling back on his stomach. This was followed a split second
later by another, even longer stream, that fell back on my hand
and on his stomach. I counted five separate,
gradually-diminishing ejaculations, which flew into the air and
back onto his stomach or my hand. As I continued to stroke his
penis, I could feel his whole body responding, as though it were
too much to bear. The semen continued to flow, oozing out now in
smaller amounts as I watched. Looking at the opalescent puddles
on his stomach and on my hand, I was amazed at the volume of his
ejaculation.  I understood why my cunt seemed to constantly
overflow after we made love.

"You can stop now," he whispered, eyes still closed, a smile on
his face.

I used the damp towel to wipe him clean and then watched quietly
as he lost his erection. Only then did I take his hand and lead
him into the shower with me.

We were both getting dressed when he brought up the subject of
what had happened.

"I feel kind of silly after what I just got you to do," he said.
"I feel like a little boy caught doing something he shouldn't."

"You didn't get me to do anything," I answered. "I did something
because I wanted to. You might have got the most fun out of it
but I enjoyed it too."

"I don't know why I acted that way. When you sat down on the bed
with me, it was if my dick took control of my brain. I don't
think I'd thought about sex all afternoon and, suddenly out of
nowhere, my cock decided it wanted to be satisfied. It sort of
told me to stay out of it, to just lay back and shut up."

"I hope it enjoyed my services. Believe me, it put on quite a
show. It erupted like Mount St. Helens."

"I wonder sometimes what you really think of me, I mean, as a
man, of my cock and balls. I suppose I'm like most men. I don't
really know what women think of us and our sexual equipment."

"I can't speak for other women. I know what I think and how I
feel about you, and that goes for what you've got between your
legs too."

"When we come back from the party tonight, will you tell me? 
I've told you about my earliest experiences with sex. Tell me a
bedtime story about yours. When you saw a hard-on for the first
time."

"We'll talk about that later. Your parents will be here in a few
minutes for Kavan."

<><><>

After the party, we were getting ready for bed when he brought up
the subject again. He was stretched out on the bed, wearing a
pair of silk paisley boxer shorts I had given him, watching me as
I brushed my hair. I knew he'd put them on just so I could take
them off.

I put on one of my favorite nightgowns, an ivory-colored gown,
trimmed with lace. I knew how he usually reacted to seeing me in
it. More than once, he had referred to me as his "strawberries
and cream" woman. On one occasion, he'd compared, in poetry, the
red hair on my head with that between my thighs and the color of
my nipples with the inner lips of my cunt. I found out that night
that laughter could be one more form of sexual arousal.

"Are you going to tell me a bed-time story?" he asked.

"I'm not as gifted a storyteller as you are," I answered.
"Besides, I'm not sure I want to tell you specific intimate
details about my sexual history. I don't want to change the way
you think and feel about me."

"Oh, come on, Sioned. You know there's little chance of that. 
When you tell a story, change events if you want to. Even make it
into complete fantasy. I'm just asking for the truth on one thing
- how you really felt about your first encounters with a male and
his cock and his balls."

"I don't have to tell it exactly as it happened?  You'll never
really know what I did and with whom? Is that the way you want
it?"

"If that makes it easier for you to tell me about it," he
answered.

"And you're not going to question me about it later to find out
what really happened?"

"I promise I won't."

"OK then. I first saw and felt an erect penis when I was
thirteen," I began, and then paused, watching him.

After a minute he encouraged me, "Go on.

"I was baby-sitting with a neighbor's little boy. When I changed
his wet diaper, I discovered he had a little hard-on."

He laughed and crawled out of bed. I started to run but he was
too quick. He caught me around the waist and, before I could get
away, picked me up and carried me to our bed. He dropped me on
the bed and then stood over me.

"Before the night is over you're going to discover a big
hard-on," he threatened, smiling. "But not until after you've
told me a bed-time story."

He crawled back in bed with me and I snuggled against him.

"Well, my first real sexual experience with a man did happen when
I was thirteen, almost fourteen. He wasn't really a man since we
were the same age. I'd started developing about a year earlier.
My breasts were about half developed and I'd been having periods
for over a year. Jason and I were in the same grade at school and
lived only a few houses from each other. We'd been friends, good
friends, for years. He'd been trying to teach me to shoot a
basketball. He'd invited me to his house one afternoon in June to
practice...

<><><>

His father was sitting behind the wheel of their car in the
driveway beside the house, as I came into their yard. As I walked
up to the front door, his mother opened it and came out.

"We're going to the grocery store," she said. "Jason's upstairs.
He's lost his basketball. You know how he is about losing
everything. Stick your head in and yell for him."

She left the front door open for me, and then went to the car. I
went into the house and called for Jason. I waited for a moment
with no response. I called again, louder, and still received no
response.

I knew where Jason's room was so I climbed the stairs. The door
to his room was almost closed, standing open an inch or so. I
pushed it open.

He was on his hands and knees, reaching under his bed, trying to
pull something out.

He looked up just as I opened the door.

"My basketball is stuck under the bed," he said, standing up.

We both realized at the same moment that he was wearing only
three things, white cotton briefs and a pair of white athletic
socks.

"I was about to get dressed," he said, lamely.

I suppose we were both embarrassed and unsure of what to do. I
couldn't tear my eyes away from him. The last time I had seen him
without a shirt, the previous summer, he had still been soft with
baby fat. Now he was harder and leaner, the muscles showing
through. The skin on his chest and stomach and arms and legs was
clear and flawless, already tanned from the summer sun. The
contrast of the white briefs with the tanned skin evoked a
response in me that was totally new: I wanted to touch him, to
feel his skin under my palm. I looked at the bulge in the center
of his briefs, so different from the flatness I always saw when I
looked down at my stomach. I tried to say something but couldn't
make the words come out.

As I turned to leave, he whispered, "Don't go."

I looked back at him, one hand on the doorknob.

"Don't go," he said again. "Shut the door. There's no one else
home."

I looked at his face, directly into his eyes, trying to
understand what he was suggesting. Again, I stood for a moment,
looking at him. Finally, I closed the door and stood still,
waiting.

He walked over closer to me, until he was only a foot or so away.
As I put up my hand to stop him, he caught it, pulling it against
his chest. When he released me, my hand stayed on his chest. I
could feel the heat of his body, the small hard bump of his
nipple.

"I want to see what you're like, too," he whispered. "Will you
let me?"

My heart was almost pounding out of my chest and my mouth felt
dry. I nodded my assent and he reached up and began to unbutton
my shirt. His fingers were clumsy and he struggled with the top
button. I pushed his hands away and quickly undid all of the
buttons.

He pushed the shirt off my shoulders and I let it fall on the
floor. Now he was confronted with my brassiere. He stood still
for a moment, looking down at my breasts.

"How do you take that thing off?" he asked, his voice breaking.

I reached behind and undid the clasp, leaving the bra still
covering me, waiting for him to remove it. I watched his face as
he slowly pulled first one strap and then the other off my
shoulders and the bra joined my shirt on the floor.

I held my breath when he placed his hand on my breast. I felt my
nipple become erect under his palm. I put my hand back on his
chest and we both stood quietly, our hands moving softly on each
other.

"Your breasts are so beautiful," he whispered. "Why are the
nipples so hard when the rest is so soft?"

When he moved closer to me, I stepped back, against the door. He
pressed against me, his chest against mine, the softness of my
breasts pressed down by the hardness of his muscles.

"We can't do anything, you know," I managed to say. "I've never
done it before."

"Neither have I," he said.

"We've got to stop," I said, without any conviction at all.

"I know."

"Then stop."

"Not yet," he pleaded. "I won't try to do it all the way, I
promise. But don't make me stop yet. I've never seen a girl,
never really touched one before now. Don't make me stop."

I knew I wanted it as much as he did. "You promise you won't try
to go all the way?" I asked.

"I won't. But let's not stop now."

He took my silence for acquiescence. He reached behind me and
pulled me against him and I could feel something firm and rounded
pressing against my stomach. He tried to tug my shorts down and
again I had to help him, releasing the zipper on the side. In
seconds, my shorts joined my other clothes on the floor. I kicked
my sneakers off and then I had on no more than he did.

He pressed me back against the door again, his stomach and chest
against me, holding me gently by the arms. He began to rub
against me and I could feel the hardness in his briefs grow even
larger and firmer. He curved his hands around behind me, holding
my buttocks, and I followed his example. We were both gasping for
breath now, pressing against each other.

"I'm going to take your panties off," he whispered in my ear.
"Will you let me?"

"Yes," I answered.

He caught the elastic at the waist and pulled down, peeling my
panties down my legs, stooping down as he did, until I was able
to step out of them.

Then, without asking, he did the same with his briefs, peeling
them down quickly, and kicking them to one side.

For the first time, I saw how a man, or a boy, was made. Almost
instantaneously, his penis came to full erection. He was
circumcised and so the head was exposed, reddish-purple at the
end of the white shaft. He was already developed enough to have
light covering of pubic hair, matted down above and to the sides
of his penis. His testicles were drawn up snug against the base,
one lower than the other. I thought to myself how different this
was from my own hidden mysterious organs, how beautiful and
fascinating to see, so out front and exposed.

He caught both my hands and pulled me quickly backwards to his
bed.

"I promised," he said, "and I mean it."

I offered little resistance when he pulled me onto the bed with
him.

He pulled me against him and we awkwardly tried to figure out the
proper placement of our arms. As I felt the whole of his body
against mine, the hard protrusion of his penis against my belly,
my heart began to pound even faster. When he brought his face
against mine, searching for my lips with his, I was afraid for
him to kiss me. I had never been kissed like this and, even
though I had talked with other girls about it, I didn't really
know what to do. We began with our lips pressed together, our
mouths closed. Within a minute or so, our lips were open and his
tongue was either in my mouth or mine was in his.

Finally I pulled away.

"I'm scared," I whispered. "We've got to stop."

In response, he caught my hand, pulled it down between our bodies
and placed it on his penis. In my inexperience, it seemed
enormous, even though I know now it was only typical for a young
boy part way through puberty. I pushed him back so I could look
at it as I held it. I was fascinated by its hardness and the
steel-spring elasticity that brought it back to the same angle
over his stomach no matter which way I bent it. I reached lower
and felt his testicles, feeling through the soft skin the rounded
masses that moved so freely. He lay back for a few minutes, eyes
closed, letting me satisfy my curiosity about his penis and
testicles.

"Now it's my turn," he said.

"No, Jason, you can't," I answered.

"Yes, I can. You wanted to see what I was like. I want to see you
too. I want to touch you too. You've been looking at me and
touching me. I didn't stop you. It's only fair that I get my
turn."

He pushed me gently back against the pillow and raised himself
above me. When he pulled my legs apart, I yielded, wanting to
feel his hands touching me down there.

"You're hair is as red down here as it is on your head," he said.
"It's beautiful."

He curved one hand down between my legs, over my vulva, and held
it there. I could feel a warm moistness inside me at his touch.
He rose up until he was sitting beside me and, with one finger,
began to explore. His touch made me burn inside. He looked
intently, trying to find the opening into me, finally parting the
inner lips, and discovering the moist opening into my vagina.
Even though I was a virgin, I knew from my own explorations that
the passageway would easily open to his finger. Quickly he found
the way, sliding one finger into me, moving it around, exploring.

"Does it hurt you?" he asked. "Can I put it in deeper?"

At just that moment, a car horn sounded loudly in the street
outside. He ran to the window, trying to see who it was. In my
fear of being caught, I ran for my clothes.

"It was just a passing car," he said. "But my parents could be
back anytime now."

We watched each other as we dressed. I almost wanted to protest
when he pulled on his briefs, positioning his still-erect penis
against his stomach.

As we started to open the door, he caught me and pulled me
against him. I started to resist but he kissed me quickly, an
open-mouthed hungry kiss, and then pushed me away.

"I promised. And I kept my promise," he said.

<><><>

"How do I know when to stop with this story?"  I asked my
husband.

"You don't just stop," he responded. "Every story has a beginning
and an end. You know when you've reached the end," he answered.

"Then I suppose I've reached the end. As far as the first boy I
ever did anything with, that's all that happened. I think we were
both scared to death about it. Anyway, we didn't do anything else
after that. They moved away some time later. I've wondered for
years what would've happened if we'd had another occasion or two
to be alone."

"Didn't he try to get you to do anything else after that?"

"He tried a couple of times but we just didn't have another good
opportunity. But he certainly had a lot of success in the
fantasies and dreams I had over the next few months."

"Tell me about them," he asked.

"I dreamed about him frequently for months after that. Even
awake, I had fantasies about what it would have been like if he
had put his penis in me instead of just his finger."

"So he really got you hot and aroused, didn't he?"

"A few nights after it happened, I couldn't go to sleep, thinking
about it. I pulled my nightgown up and used my own fingers to
find out what felt good. You might say he gave me my first
orgasms."

My husband pulled away from me suddenly and got out of bed.
"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Shut your eyes. I've got a surprise for you," he answered.

I did as he asked and I heard him opening a drawer in his dresser
and then the soft sound of fabric on skin.

"You can open your eyes now," he said.

He was standing at the foot of the bed. The paisley silk boxer
shorts were gone. Now he had on fresh white briefs and white
athletic socks.

"I'm not your husband," he said. "I'm a thirteen-year old boy and
I'm scared to death. I don't know what to do or how to do it
either but I know I can't stop until I go all the way this time."

I looked at the bulge in the front of his briefs and then up at
his face.

"I'm scared too," I whispered. "I've never done it before either.
But I want to."

<><><>

(KIERAN)

A few nights later, we were getting ready for bed again. Sioned
was nursing Kavan and I was waiting to carry him to his bed after
she burped him.

"I'm going to start weaning him tomorrow. He's doing fine with
solid food. I think he'll be OK with milk from bottles now."

"How long will it take for your breasts to dry up?" I asked.

"Not long. My gynecologist said it'd be just a few weeks for the
milk to stop flowing - if I can just get someone to stop
nursing."

"Hey, don't look at me. I don't suck on them now. You fuss at me
every time I try."

"Yes, but even licking my nipples can still make the milk flow.
You've got to help me."

"If I can't get any milk, what's in it for me?"

"When Kavan stops nursing, I can go back on birth control pills."

"And I can stop using those damned condoms? Honey, I'll be glad
to leave your tits alone for a few weeks."

"And I can stop giving you so many blow-jobs, Kieran. Since
you've had to use a rubber for regular sex, I think your
frequency of blow-jobs has gone up."

"Well, your doctor did say you could take the pill while you were
nursing. She just said there was some research that advised
against it."

"I know. I just wanted to stay off them for a while longer.  So
much else comes through in my breast milk to Kavan, I just
worried about the hormones in the pills."

"Have you really been happy with your decision to breast feed? It
sure seems to cause you a lot of inconvenience. You're always
having to think about what might get through to Kavan."

"I don't regret it. I wish you could know that feeling of
closeness I have with Kavan from breast feeding him."

"Honey, I can understand what closeness feels like. I wish you
could know how I feel about having my dick inside you. It's sex
but it's more than that. When I'm inside you, I feel like I'm at
home, I'm where I belong, that life is perfect. Even with a
rubber on, it's like that. But without a rubber, it's so much
better. When there's nothing between us and it sort of feels like
we melt together. I'm never happier than I am then."

"Could we just forget the pills - and the condoms? We've agreed
we're going to have another baby pretty close to this one. Maybe
we should just let it happen. I'd be happy if it did."

"Huh? You've got your hands full with Kavan. You think you can
handle another one this quick?"

"Kieran, I've been feeling you out about having another one for
weeks now. I know I'm ready. Kavan's a good baby and doesn't give
us much trouble. I'd like our babies to be less than two years
apart. If I said I was ready now, what would you do?"

"Well --- first I'd have my dick in you in about one minute flat.
Second, I'd think about what a damn fool I am. You've got this
all planned out, haven't you?

"Yes, honey, I have. Now would you like to make love with me, no
rubber between us, nothing to keep me from getting pregnant,
knowing I want another baby?"

<><><>

I did. Once was not enough. Twice was not enough. I still wanted
her but my dick told me to let it rest for the night.

"Kieran, would you put a pillow under my hips?"

I looked at her in disbelief. Sometimes I'd put a pillow under
her hips before fucking her. This was the first time she'd asked
for a pillow - and after she'd been fucked - twice.

"Now tell me a story. I told you about me and Jason when I was
thirteen. I want you to tell me about you and the first girl you
ever fooled around with."

"What? Dreams, fantasies, the real thing? And why the fucking
pillow. Are you in that big a hurry to get pregnant?"

"No, silly, I'm too lazy to get up and I don't want to overflow
on the bed. Now come on, the story."

<><><>

"There was an incident when I was thirteen. Are you sure you want
to hear this tonight?

"Yes, just don't let me fall asleep."

"OK. The incident was with Allison, cute little Allison. One real
tomboy. Wonder what she's like today?"

<><><>

It all started when my Dad and a friend of his found a Studebaker
Avanti for sale. Damn, that was one beautiful car, red and cream
original colors and that Raymond Loewy styling! It'd been
partially restored. They actually formed a legal partnership to
buy it, finish restoring it, and then use it together until they
sold it.

Dad put it in our basement so they could work on it. Right after
they bought it they were like little boys with a new toy. Almost
every Saturday, they'd be down there in the basement, figuring
out what to do next. I hung out with them a lot but they'd only
let me be a gofer so I sort of lost interest.

That is, until Dad's friend brought his daughter, Allison, along
to spend the day. He was supposedly trying to keep peace with his
wife by watching their daughter. I think he brought her just to
get me out of their hair. She succeeded.

Allison was a real tomboy at thirteen. I never saw her in
anything but jeans and sneakers and shirt. Her shirts were always
big oversized ones and I couldn't tell much about what sort of
tits she had. I looked hard enough but there just wasn't much
there.

The first couple of times, I tried to stay with the car work
until Dad chased me off, telling me to entertain my guest. My
guest? OK, I decided to make her my guest. When Mom found us in
my bedroom, sitting on the bed, close together, she said maybe I
needed to entertain Allison outdoors. I asked her if I could take
Allison for a walk down along the creek bottom.

We'd been having a lot of rain that spring and the creek bottom
had flooded a couple of times. It was back between its banks now
but mud was everywhere. I guess I was hoping Allison wouldn't
like the mud and wouldn't want to go again and I could get back
to the car. Boy, was I wrong. She loved the mud.

Mom made us go to her father to get his permission before we went
down to the creek. I don't think her father was real eager to
give her permission to go off with me. He kept asking if she'd be
safe. My dad asked him what he meant - safe from snakes and mud
or safe from me. He told his friend to ask me if she'd be safe.

"Kieran, will Allison be safe with you? She's a good girl and I
want to make sure she stays that way. Are you going to be a good
boy with Allison?"

My Dad probably knew what was coming. I looked his friend
straight in the eye and said, "Hell no, she won't be safe. I'm a
bad boy and it's my sworn duty to make every good girl into a bad
girl."

Dad dropped a tool with a loud clang and doubled over laughing.
His friend almost dropped his jaw. I waited for a minute before I
said anything else. "I promise sir, man to man, I won't let any
snakes get her. Or me either."

<><><>

Allison didn't care if there was mud along the creek bottom. She
didn't care if she got it all over. I had to show her everything
and she had to crawl over, into, or onto everything. We were both
filthy within an hour.  I thought of one more place I wanted to
show her. We called it the Indian Cave but the Indians probably
never saw it.

On one of the hills overlooking the creek, there was a rock
outcropping. Going at it uphill, there was an opening, a narrow
space between two big rocks. About twenty feet in another big
rock covered over the top. There was a cave-like space maybe
eight by ten feet where some of my friends and I played once in a
while. We'd already sprinkled the ground there with enough semen
to make it extra rich. I didn't tell Allison that part.

In the cave Allison grabbed me by the sleeve and pulled me up
close to her. She wiped both her hands on whatever clean area she
could find on my sweatshirt. When her hands were partially clean,
she reached down, unsnapped my jeans, pulled the zipper down and
put her hand right on the fly area of my briefs. I forgot to
breathe for a while.

When she started feeling around finding my dick and then my
balls, all I could say was a very romantic "Oh, shit, oh shit,
oohh shiitt." When she put her fingers in and pulled out my dick,
I almost screamed; having a hard dick dug out sideways was no
fun. It felt just fine again when she got it in her hand. When
she pulled my briefs down, my dick was dragged back through the
fly and almost broken off by the elastic band. She pushed them
and my jeans down to mid thigh.

She reached up with her other hand and tilted my head up so that
I was looking directly into her eyes. She leaned forward and gave
me a quick smack on the lips and then leaned back again, staring
me in the eyes. Her hand was working on my cock. It felt strange,
not so much because it was her hand but because it was backwards.
When I gripped it my thumb was pointing toward the head; when she
gripped it, her thumb was pointing toward my pubic hair. Her hand
worked as well backwards as mine did forwards. I came in a
half-dozen good squirts all over the front of her jeans.

She hardly gave me a chance to catch my breath. She pushed me
back against the cave wall and down until my bare butt was on the
cold floor. My jeans and shorts were holding my legs together
like a tourniquet. She looked down and evidently decided that
wasn't what she wanted. She pulled off my sneakers, first one and
then the other, and grabbed the hem of both legs of my jeans. It
seemed like she dumped me out of them. With nothing but socks on
from the waist down, she seemed satisfied with me. She nudged my
legs apart with her foot.

She unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down on her hips,
leaving a few inches of white panties covering her stomach.

When she turned around and then sat down between my legs, her
back against my stomach, I wondered what she had in mind. She
pushed back against me, grabbed my right hand, and rubbed it
around on her sweatshirt, trying to get the mud off. She lowered
my hand toward her crotch, pulled her panties away from her belly
an inch or two and stuck my fingers, palm downward against her
smooth belly, into her panties.

"Do me!"

"Do me!" Do me what? I wanted to do her. I just didn't know what
I wanted to do to her. I didn't know what she wanted me to do to
her. Luckily she did.  She pushed my hand down further until I
felt silky hair and further until her panties forced my fingers
into a curve around her vulva. When she stopped, I could feel
warm moisture along the length of my index finger. I began to
realize what "Do me!" meant.

She found my other hand and brought it up and under her
sweatshirt. Tits! There were tits under there after all - small,
firm, barely-palm-sized tits with pointy nipples. Hot poker
burning a hole in my palm.

I buried my face in her hair and the side of her neck. She
started whispering. That's good. Yeah, right there. Rub it. Stick
your finger in `til it's juicy. Rub it some more. Yeah. Oh, god,
that's good. Do it, Kieran.

My finger was wallowing in the tight little crease between her
thighs, dipping down into her hot little cunt, spreading her
little cunt lips, going round and round where she told me "Yeah,
that's it."

My cock was hard again and hurting, jammed at an awkward angle
between my stomach and thigh and her back. She reached around
with one arm and found it, straightened it up and began a
behind-the-back upside-down stroking. I started saying, "Do me"
too. We both were grunting it, like crazed singers. She reached
the end before I did and started squirming around. I curled my
finger around and pushed it into her as deeply as I could. Shit,
she was hot, tight and hot. I pressed the base of the finger
against her clit, not knowing in the least what I was doing, and
she started shuddering and coming.

She almost wrenched my cock off. I squirted again, all over her
back while she tried to choke off the flow. I felt her
fingernails raking up one leg. I didn't care. I had done her! And
she had done me again!

When she stood up, I saw my come running down her back and onto
her panties. She had mud smeared all over her ass and her jeans.
I didn't care. Her ass was the most beautiful one I'd ever seen.
The only one too.

I stood up too, wobbly-legged, my cock dirty with mud and
dripping with the last oozing drops.  Allison gave me a smile
that said, "I know something" and squeezed my dick one more time.
I gave her the same smile. She helped me get my shorts and jeans
back on. I needed the help.

I looked at her, dirty, covered with mud, wet, hair stringy, no
makeup, lips unkissed except for one virginal smack. She was a
picture of absolute beauty. She was a girl. And I had done her.

On the way back, Allison was worried about being covered with mud
- afraid that her Dad would get mad at her. I told her about the
big shower we had in the basement. She asked where it was; she
hadn't seen it. I told her it was in plain view, just the square
on the floor surrounded by concrete blocks. The two showerheads
were on the wall and the shower curtain was always back because
we never pulled it around the shower. She asked who used it and I
told her that Dad and Alan and I showered there after working on
cars.

I guess I was secretly hoping that we could somehow shower
together. At the least I was hoping she could pull the shower
curtain around so nobody could see her and she could shower by
herself. I was already thinking of how it would be to get in the
shower with my naked body knowing her naked body had been in the
same place.

When Dad saw us come in the door, he nudged Allison's dad and the
two of them stood looking at us for a minute or so. They started
laughing and Dad went over to the stairwell and called up to Mom
in the kitchen. She came down and took one look and she wasn't
laughing, not even smiling. She took one of the terrycloth robes
and took Allison into the basement bedroom. When they came out,
she was holding Allison's dirty clothes at arms length in one
hand and her sneakers in another. Allison was wrapped down to her
ankles in the robe.

She gave all three of us men a scathing look and told us,
"Allison is going upstairs to shower. Kieran, you can shower down
here. Bring your dirty clothes up to the washing machine when
you're clean. And you two dirty old men can just damn well make
sure Kieran comes clean."  She almost pushed Allison up the
stairs. I wondered how clean I was supposed to come.

The two dirty old men erupted in whoops and hollers as soon as
the door to the kitchen was closed. I stood there not knowing
what to expect. Finally Dad told me to get undressed and get in
the shower. I started to pull the shower curtain around so they
couldn't see me but Dad told me, in no uncertain voice, that I
didn't need to try to hide anything.

I started the shower running and stripped off. When I pulled my
muddy jeans off both men were watching. I looked down and saw
that my briefs were muddy too, especially in front. I got rid of
the evidence as quickly as I could. When I started scrubbing,
they started back working on the Avanti. Dad was glancing at me
every few seconds. When I started to get a hard-on, he nudged the
other dirty old man to look at me. I was standing there, sort of
dreamy eyed, working up a good lather around my cock and balls. 
Maybe they thought my dick was trying to stand up because I was a
little unsatisfied kid. What they didn't know was that it was
standing up again, remembering what it had been like to be
satisfied an hour earlier. I felt something stinging on one leg
and looked down. Red stripes of fingernail scratches ran up my
thigh. I turned my back to the two dirty old men and remembered
that I had been sitting in the mud in the cave and probably had a
muddy butt. I was in agony until I could get showered and wrapped
in a robe.

When I took my dirty clothes up to Mom at the washing machine,
she was combing Allison's wet hair. Allison and I looked at each
other standing there in white terry cloth robes. Mom mumbled
something about the mud going through her washing machine and
then put my clothes in with Allison's. When she started the
washing machine, I realized my jockey shorts were going up and
down and round and round in the hot soapy water with Allison's
panties. I started getting hard again. Mom chased us in the
family room and dared us to go anywhere else.

We didn't go anywhere else. Allison checked to make sure no one
else was looking and then opened her legs to let me look. All I
could see was a matt of black hair over the little crease between
her legs. Everything was closed up now. I wondered how it could
look so different from the way it felt with my finger in it.

I opened my legs to give Allison a look. My balls were still
hanging low from the hot shower. My dick was hard and pointing up
toward my face; I was proud of it and it was proud of me.

I heard footsteps coming from the kitchen. Mom. We both covered
up and sat up on the edge of our chairs. "Are you two being
good?" she asked. "Don't let me catch you doing anything else!"
We both gave her our best innocent child smile. Two yes ma'ams.

As soon as her back was turned, Allison gave me another split
second flash. I said to Mom's back, "Yes, Mom, we won't let you
catch us doing anything wrong."

About an hour or so later, Mom brought us our jeans and shirts
and underwear - all clean and smelling fresh. She said we'd have
to go barefooted because she wasn't going to run our muddy
sneakers through her good washing machine. She gave Allison her
clothes and chased her to one bedroom. She gave me mine and
chased me to the half-bath off the kitchen. As we started to
leave the family room, she gave both of us another dirty look.
"You two had better clean up your act - before you get yourselves
into a lot of trouble." I said a very polite Yes, Ma'am and so
did Allison. Mom gave us a quick smile. As I left the room, I
heard her giggling.

Just as she was leaving with her Dad, late that afternoon,
Allison gave me a quick hug, a kiss just on the side of my mouth,
and that smile again, the one that says "I've got a secret."

<><><>

About the middle of the week after that Saturday, Dad said he was
going for a walk after dinner one night. When he asked me if I
wanted to go with him, I knew better than to say no. We were
about a block from the house before he said anything.

"Kieran, we need to talk about Allison. Do you want her to come
back to visit you when her father comes?"

I knew I was about to get it. "Yeah, Dad, I do. I like her; she's
nice even if she is a tomboy."

"I talked to her father. He's worried she might not be safe if
she comes back to our house. Do you think he's got any reason to
worry about her safety?"

I knew he knew what I'd done. "No, Dad, we did some stuff I don't
want to talk about. But she's safe. If she was a virgin when she
came to our house, she still is." He looked at me, boring in on
that point. "And I'm not going to do anything to change that,
Dad, trust me."

"Man to man?" he asked, and I knew he was asking for a
gentlemen's agreement.

"Yeah, Dad, man to man."

We walked through an undeveloped area to a bluff overlooking the
river valley. It was a favorite spot for all the walkers in the
neighborhood to stop and talk on their walking rounds.

"I've got a few questions, Kieran. Just between us men. You might
want to help me out a little here. I've got to talk to your
mother and her father. I'll be careful in what I say. But I need
to understand what you and Allison are up to."

He hadn't killed me yet. I decided I'd better just tell him the
truth, man to man.

"Your mother told me she thought there was semen down the front
of Allison's jeans and on the back at the waistband. Yours?"

I nodded when I saw he was smiling.

"How the hell did you ever manage that shot, son?"

I looked around as though checking to see if anybody was
listening or watching. I held up one finger and shook my head to
indicate no. He smiled wider. I held up two fingers. He nodded. I
made a circle out of my thumb and fingers while Dad watched. I
held my hand out in front of me, palm down as though I were
encircling something on someone else's body.  I moved my hand
back and forth.

"I see, that's one down the front. And the second, behind her?"

I put my hand behind my back and moved it back and forth.

"I don't see. But what the hell? It won't get her pregnant, will
it son?"

I shook my head in the negative again.

"I need to hear you say it, son. Allison's Dad's not going to let
her come back to see you unless he knows you're a responsible
young man. If you take her for a walk again, I need to know you
aren't going to let a red-headed snake bite her."

I looked him in the eye. It wasn't really that hard. I loved him
and I knew he loved me. "Allison's safe with me, Dad.
She...uh...she likes to play around a little. Course I do too.
But she's safe. I'll make sure she doesn't get bit..." I suddenly
decided to be really man-to-man. "I'll make sure she doesn't get
pregnant."

"That's fine, Kieran. I'll tell her father you'll watch out for
her and she'll be safe with you. And in this case safe means you
won't need any condoms because you aren't going to try to use
one. Is that right?"

"Yeah, Dad.  I don't need any. Maybe in a year or two I might
need some."

"I've got one more question, Kieran, and you don't have to answer
this one unless you want to. Would you tell this old man what you
were doing when Allison was going ..." He made a jacking movement
with his hand. "...behind her back?"

I told him. It took a while but I told him. I told him where my
hand was while Allison was stroking me behind her back. I told
him she almost broke my dick off behind her back when she came. 
He playfully punched me on the shoulder and stood beaming down at
me.

We stood for a moment in silence, looking out over the river
valley. Finally Dad turned back toward me.

"Kieran. Man to man. I trust you. Don't ever betray my trust,
son."

He held out his hand to me. I took it. Very man to man. His big
strong hand enveloped my boy's hand. Man to man - but I lost it.
I wrapped my arms against his waist and hugged up against him. I
was still a head shorter than he was. My head ended up in his
armpit. I smelled the man's sweat of him.

"I won't, Dad, I never will." I mumbled into his armpit.

"Guess it's time us men got back home," he said.

<><><>

The next time Allison and her father came, my Mom quickly made me
aware that she was watching everything we did. I did manage to
get and give a few quick squeezes. My hand took care of my
hard-on that night, not Allison, but she was there in my mind.

<><><>

The next time Allison and her father came, my Mom kept an eye on
us again during the morning.  Allison and I helped her around the
house until she got tired of us and told us to go play. We went
out to the front porch and sat in the rocking chairs.

"Allison, we've got to talk. They know what we did. That's why
Mom won't let us out of her sight. She's afraid I'll do something
to you."

"Oh, shit, Kieran. Shit! Are you sure? My Mom's gonna kill me."

"She doesn't know unless your Dad told her. I know your Dad
knows. I don't think he's told your mother."

"Kieran, I didn't really wanna do anything bad. You're cute and
nice and I like you a lot. I didn't wanna do anything bad. I just
wanted to play with you."

"Dad made me have a long talk with him, Allison. I don't think he
thinks we did anything wrong. He knows pretty much what we did.
He didn't say we were bad, not once. He said he had to talk to
your Dad."

"Shit, Kieran, I was hoping I could keep on coming over here. Now
they'll make me stay home. I liked playing in the mud with you.
Even if we hadn't done the sex stuff, the rest was fun."

"Allison, they're not gonna make you stay home. My Dad and your
Dad just said I had to be responsible. They want to know you're
safe with me. I promised him, man to man, I'd make sure I didn't
do anything to get you pregnant."

She sat looking at me, rocking harder and harder. I could see she
was getting angry.

"Well, fuck me, that really pisses me off. They really thought I
was going to let you do it, I mean, fuck me?  Shit, Kieran, I'm
not that stupid."

"Allison, you just said fuck and piss and shit - two fucks. If
Mom hears you, she'll get mad again. She thinks we don't talk
that way, at least, we shouldn't."

She looked at me with a big grin.

"Kieran, if you say the f word one more time, we'll be even."

"Fuck." I waited for a few seconds. "'Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.
Piss, Piss, Piss, Shit, Shit." I tried to think of some more good
ones. "Cock and cunt, cock in cunt."

She started giggling. I followed. When we finally stopped, she
took a deep breath, sort of out of resignation.

"OK, Kieran, I'll help you preserve my virginity. We'll stop the
sex stuff. But I would like to come see you. You're fun to be
with."

"Allison, you don't understand. Nobody's said we had to stop it.
Nobody's said we did anything bad. Dad just said I had to be
responsible. I gave him my word. I'll keep it. I have to. He
loves me too much for me... I mean, I have to keep his trust."

"You think if we'd've come back last time clean, and I
wouldn't've had your stuff all over my jeans, they wouldn't've
got mad."

I translated that as quickly as I could.

"Yeah, I think we've just gotta keep it clean. And be honest
with'em."

"I hope so. I was sorta wantin' to get at you again."

"Me too."

<><><>

After lunch, Mom wanted to go shopping. She took me and Allison
down in the basement. The old men had their heads under the hood
of the Avanti.  She asked them if they'd keep an eye on us. She
was going to be gone all afternoon.

They both answered without taking their heads out from under the
hood.  They way they said it, it sounded like they were going to
chain us to the steering wheel of the car. Allison and I sat on
the steps watching until I heard Mom leave in her car.

"Dad, would it be OK if Allison and I got a blanket and went down
the hill to the pines. We'll sit on the blanket so we don't get
dirty. And you can see us out the door if you look for us."

They both straightened up and looked at us. They looked at each
other. Allison's dad nodded yes. My dad nodded yes.

"Just don't go anywhere else son," Dad said. "We'll check on you
once in a while. If we want you, we'll holler out the back door
for you to come back.

I got an old blanket out of the basement bedroom. We went out the
basement door into the back yard. With Allison's hand in mine and
the blanket under my arm, we walked down the hillside to the
pines.

There were five large pines growing close together. The ground
underneath was covered with pine needles. Alan and Kara and I
played there with other neighborhood kids. We'd cleaned
everything out until there was nothing but pine straw on the
ground and we could lie around and talk and play.

Allison looked around at our play area. She looked down the hill
at the creek. I could see the sun glistening on the muddy areas.

"This is nice, Kieran. I just wish we could find a spot like this
where they can't see us. Is this as far as they said we could
go?"

"Allison, they can't see us here. Dad knows he can't see us when
we're here. Look back uphill at the house."

We both turned and looked. We couldn't see the basement part at
all. We could see the top half of the first floor and all of the
second. Somebody looking out the first floor windows might see
us. Somebody looking out from the second floor could. Nobody
could see us from the basement windows.

She understood. "Your Dad does know he can't see us.  Does my Dad
know it too?"

She stood quietly, probably thinking as I was of the implications
of this.

"I think they're trusting us, Allison. I think they're saying we
can go this far and no farther. Just like letting us come part
way down the hill to the pines. No farther. I told Dad I'd keep
you safe. They know where we're going. Just so far and no
farther."

Allison turned to me and pulled me against her. I dropped the
blanket. She held me around my waist and put her head so close
her hair was in my face. It tickled but I didn't mind. When she
turned me loose, I unfolded the blanket. The towel I had stuck in
fell out on the pine needles. Allison smiled at me when she saw
it and we spread the blanket out on the pine straw in a sunny
open spot.

<><><>

Allison kicked off her sneakers and lay down on her stomach on
the blanket. I did the same and we were side by side, not
touching, our faces a couple of feet apart. We looked at each
other. I started getting hard.  I looked into Allison's eyes.
They were half closed, sort of sleepy looking. She didn't seem to
blink.

We lay there quietly. All I could hear was the occasional
"screee" of a hawk as it circled overhead and the moan of the
breeze as it passed through the pines. All I could see was
Allison's face, her eyes boring into mine. She was beautiful.

"I'm getting hot," she said. "Are you?"

I was beginning to feel damp inside my sweatshirt. Was that the
kind of hot she meant?

"Yeah, me too. Can I take my sweatshirt off?"

She didn't answer. Instead she got up on her knees and moved over
me. She rolled me over on my back, grabbed the bottom of my
sweatshirt, and pulled it over my head. She almost took my ears
and nose off. I hoped I wouldn't have to be the one to say, "be
gentle with me."

My sweatshirt had probably not hit the ground when hers was off
and flying after mine. She did have tits. Half a tennis ball,
maybe half a baseball. Beautiful tits. Dark circles around little
nipples. I felt like my heart was in my mouth. She moved over me
and lowered herself down on me. Her nipple was in my mouth. I was
in heaven.

I sucked on one. Pulled on the nipple with my lips. Opened my
lips and tried to get her whole breast in. Didn't quite fit but
well worth the effort.  She took that one away and gave me the
other one. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

I felt her hand fooling with the button on my jeans. I sucked in
my stomach to give her more room. She popped the button
one-handedly. The zipper was no problem. When she tried to pull
my jeans down, I raised my ass up off the blanket, used two
hands, and pushed my jeans and briefs half way down my thighs.
She offered me a breast again and wrapped her hand around my
cock. I was wrong before.  I was in heaven now.

I sucked. She stroked. I licked. She played with my balls. I
sucked some more and her hand tried to choke my cock to death.

She flopped down beside me suddenly, on her back, legs in the
air, jeans unzipped and down and off her legs. Panties followed.
In seconds she was back on her knees and on top of me, nipple in
my mouth, hand on my cock. I moved one hand to her knee, traced
upwards on her thigh, found her cunt. Cunt, Cunt, Cunt. God, now
I knew what Cunt meant. Cunt! It was this hairy crack between her
legs. Hair like fine cat hair, knew why they called it pussy.
Little vertical crease. Where did it start? Where did it go?
There. Wet, hot, hole in her. Finger slides in. She moans.

I'm dying. My eyes are closed and all I can see is red. One
breast feels small in my hand, the other big enough to cut off
the air supply through my nose. I try to breath around it. My
finger is sliding in and out of her and my hand is still. She's
moving up and down on it. All I've got to do is hold my finger
still and she fucks it. Fucks it. God, I want to fuck it. Please
let me fuck it.

She starts moaning and then going uh, uh, uh, uh. She tries to
shove her cunt down around my finger. I help her. I feel her cunt
squeezing around my finger. Uh, squeeze. Uh, squeeze. Uh,
squeeze. I start moaning too, just like her. She tries to pull my
cock off my body. All she gets is a load of come. I shoot all
over her hand and all over my stomach.

She rises up on her knees, looking down at me flat on my back.
She's breathing like she's been running. I am too. We look at
each other's eyes. Hers are smoldering. I know what that means
now, not just from having read it. She looks down at my stomach.
I raise my head and look down too. She uses one finger and starts
tracing circles around in the semen on my stomach. My cock is
still hard, still up just a little above my stomach, sort of
throbbing in mid air. I can see some more white stuff oozing out
the slit. She catches it on one finger, rubs it between two
fingers, looks at it, wipes it off on my chest.  She gives me
that "I know a secret" smile. I know it too. I smile back.

She wiped me off with the towel and then carefully wiped her
fingers and looked around for any stray shots. She spread her
legs and carefully wiped her cunt with the towel.

We did it again before we went back up the hill. She was flat on
her back this time. I was over her. She was milking me. I
squirted down for her. I was finger-fucking her, wishing to God I
could dick fuck her. I knew I couldn't. I could be trusted,
couldn't I? Please God, let me be trustworthy. She wouldn't let
me stop finger-fucking her until she came again. I didn't want to
stop even then.

I wiped my come off the blanket and wiped up between her legs.
She spread wider to let me see how open and wet and pink she was.
I touched it with the towel. I wanted to stick my face in it
first and then put my dick in it and leave it there.

I could be trusted. I knew I'd proved it. I thought about proving
it again the next time she came over.

We got dressed in a reverse strip tease. Panties on, briefs on,
jeans on, sweatshirts on, sneakers on. She licked her fingers and
tried to comb my hair back in place. I picked the pine straw out
of hers.

We went back up the hill the way we had gone down, hand in hand,
blanket under one arm. When we went in the basement, the old men
still had their heads under the hood of the car. Allison's dad
looked up and said, "Oh, back so soon, hope you had a good time."
Dad looked at me and smiled. I nodded at him and smiled back. I
put the blanket back in the closet.  I put the towel under my bed
so I could smell it that night when I jacked off. And for the
next six nights until Allison came again. I knew I could be
trusted. Dad would be proud of me. He knew what I was doing. He
was still proud of me.

<><><>

"How far did you and Allison go?" Sioned asked.

"Just down the hill to the pines," I said.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I know. And my answer's a good one. She came to the house
with her father a few more times. We never went any further, or
farther. Which is right? We never got into oral sex. I wanted to
but I guess I was ashamed to ask her. I didn't know how to ask
her to suck me. I was afraid to ask her to let me go down on
her."

"Both and whatever happened to Allison?" my wife asked.

"I don't know. I saw her around school during the next year and
we'd have lunch and talk.  When we started high school, she went
to one in a different zone. I've never seen her since."

"But you remember her, don't you?"

"I remember lots from that time. I remember how cold and damp it
was in that cave and how hot Allison was. I remember what she
smelled like, her cunt, in the sun on the pine straw. I remember
the scratches she put on my leg when she came. I even remember
the hawk overhead going `scree'. But the one thing I remember
most clearly is not about Allison."

"What is it, then?"

"I remember the smell of Dad's armpit and the feel of his hand
behind my head when I told him I'd never betray his trust."

"You haven't, Kieran, you haven't."

"I hope not."

"I hope I'm about to be pregnant again, Kieran."

"Me, too."

I pulled the pillow out from under her hips. She turned over on
her side. I spooned up against her from behind. She held my hand
against her breast while we went to sleep.

TO BE CONTINUED:



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