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Subject: {ASSM} Chemistry (Mf, ff, oral, anal) Chapter 12
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Date: Fri, 14 Dec 2012 05:10:04 -0500
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Please post.

-- 
  Scott St. Martz
  stmartz@fastmail.net

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<1st attachment, "Chemistry 12.doc" begin>

This is an erotic fantasy. The characters and the situation are
purely imaginary, and this story is *NOT* intended to be a guide
for actual behavior.  Any similarities between this story and
actual people or actual events you should be ashamed of are
purely coincidental.  If it is illegal in your part of the world
to access and read erotic fiction, or if you are underage, or if
you don't like underage sex stories, then stop now. 

This story was copyrighted in 2012 by Scott St. Martz.  Please do
not remove the author information or make any changes to this
story.  You may post freely to non-commercial (free) sites, or in
the "free" area of commercial sites.  That does NOT mean that
these stories are in the public domain, nor does it mean that I
give permission for you to use them in spam advertising.  I
reserve the right to determine what is "spam advertising" by MY
definition, not yours or anyone else's.

I wish to extend my sincerest thanks to Denny Wheeler for editing
this story. In addition to correcting my spelling and grammatical
errors and pointing out awkward passages, he prodded me along.
His repeated theme, although it was only expressed in these words
once, was, "Finish the damned story!" I'm an obsessive re-writer
who pushed the limits of his patience as the story evolved.
Without Denny's generous assistance, it wouldn't be the same
story. 
	
This is a story above all else. It is the tale of a typical
suburban middle class man's transition over time from "society
normal" into pedophile. It starts slowly, but there is plenty of
action once it gets going. Your patience will be rewarded. 

*****************************************************************
*

Chemistry   (Mf, ff, oral, anal)

By Scott St. Martz
 2012


Chapter 12 - Officially Mine

The hearing took place the following week. Charlene picked
Chelsea up from school, and I met them, Suzanne and Mrs. Knolls
outside of the family court. Chelsea and I were nervous and
excited. It went smoother than I had anticipated. The judge had
previously studied the documentation submitted by CPS along with
the petition, brief and supports Suzanne had filed. He just had a
few questions for me to answer on the on the record confirming I
knew what I was getting into before he ruled in favor of the
petition, signed the adoption decree and adjourned the hearing.
Then he, along with the others, congratulated us on being a
family.

Chelsea ran to hug me and excitedly asked, "You're my daddy now,
Mr. Sean?"

"I sure am, Sweetie. There's no more Mr. Sean for you; it's just
"Daddy".

"Awesome, Daddy!" she replied as she proudly took my arm and we
walked out. 

On our way to the parking lot, I thanked Suzanne, Charlene and
Mrs. Knolls for their efforts and asked Suzanne to send me her
bill. Then we left for to Hope House to pick up her already
packed belongings. Amy had not yet returned from school by the
time we got the car loaded, and Chelsea asked if we could wait
for her, so we went back inside.

A few minutes later, Amy arrived and was greeted by Chelsea's
rush to hug her squealing, "Amy, Amy, he's my Daddy now!"

Her friend was initially caught up in the excitement as she
congratulated both of us. Then Amy's elation faded as the reality
sank in that Chelsea was leaving forever and she was staying
behind. We made arrangements to visit with her Saturday, and
Chelsea asked if she could lend her cell phone to Amy until then
so they could talk when they wanted. I agreed and started moving
us towards the door. The girls had red watery eyes as they
parted, but there was no real crying. 

On the way home, I announced to Chelsea that we had reservations
for dinner to celebrate. She was even more excited when I told
her we were going to a fine dining restaurant, so she could wear
the new dress and shoes I'd given her for Christmas. When we got
her things into the condo and situated for the time being, she
said, "This is so awesome, Daddy! I can't believe it's true!" 

"It's true, Darlin'. From now on we're a family, and this is your
home."

"Can we take a shower together, Sean...oops, Daddy?" 

"Sean is okay, too, Darlin'. I didn't contribute to your genes,
so you can use whatever name you want when we're alone. When
we're with others, though, I think Dad or Daddy would be
better."

"That sounds okay. I'll think about, like, what I want to call
you when we're alone."

I ran the shower in the master bath to warm it while we stripped
and Chelsea peed. On an impulse, I asked her to spread her
slender legs, which she did with a naughty gleam and knowing
smirk, so I could watch the golden liquid streaming from her
dainty vulva and splashing in the water below. That was something
I hadn't asked to see since I was a kid. When I was six, a
neighborhood girl and I demonstrated the differences in gender
plumbing to each other in the woods at my suggestion. I had seen
my wife, some girlfriends and my daughters (when they were
little) urinate, but that was a matter of circumstances at the
time rather than a request to watch in an erotically charged
situation. The sight of my teenybopper lover with her peach fuzz
pussy spraying into the toilet was very erotic. From my angle it
appeared to stream from the hood of her clitoris.

We played around a little as we washed each other, and I noticed
a few more short blond hairs had sprouted on her mound and her
boobs had grown just a smidgen. Her hips may have broadened a
bit, too. Her labia, however, were still as smooth and soft as
the day she was born, and I wondered if she might become one of
those women whose bush was mostly confined to her mound. I wasn't
intending sex in the shower, wishing to build the anticipation
for later, but I got her off without trying while rinsing her
pussy; she had a hair trigger that day. She closed her fingers
around my dick as she squatted to return the favor, and I stopped
her saying I wanted to save it for later to make it more of a
special evening for us. She was agreeable, so we got out, dried
off and prepared for our date.

I decided to wear a suit for the special occasion and I was
dressed first, of course. I went out to fix a cocktail and call
the girls   who were also ecstatic about the news. Britney wanted
to speak with Chelsea, but I told her she was getting ready to go
out for dinner, so she asked that I have her call later. 

I sat listening to music and sipping my drink as I waited -
wondering how things would turn out for us over time. While she
was legally my child, there was still the risk that she might let
something slip that could have disastrous effects on our future.
Her development into adulthood was another issue. At her stage in
life there were a myriad of paths she could take, and I vowed to
be a good father and guide her around as many pitfalls as I
could.

Chelsea soon appeared wearing her new outfit, and her she was
stunning! The dress and shoes fit her perfectly. Her silky blonde
hair was just parted off center and turned under at the ends -
including her bangs; but the way it glowed with its healthy
luster reflecting the lamplight was enchanting. The color of her
dress made her brilliant blue eyes the first thing anyone would
see. Her fragrance beckoned memories of freshly cut peaches. Very
light make-up accenting her balanced features - along with her
bubbling happiness - completed the gorgeous picture. I knew she
would draw attention in public; it was difficult for me to take
my eyes off of her. 

We drove to Strata, a four star restaurant downtown that featured
regional cuisine, and we availed ourselves of the valet parking.
The maitre d' welcomed us and helped with our coats, handing them
to the attendant as we entered the dining area. He escorted us to
our reserved table and placed the claim check on the table near
my seat. I noticed that most of the patrons' eyes were focused on
the radiant young girl by my side as we walked in, and I swelled
with pride. He then assisted Chelsea with her chair and fluffed
her napkin before draping it across her lap. I ordered a Goose
and tonic with lime for myself and a Sprite for her, which we
enjoyed for a few minutes before picking up our menus. She was
enchanted by the elegant dcor and the fine china and crystal  
everything was "awesome" those days. She could hardly sit still
and her hyped up youthful energy fueled the conversation. She
chose shrimp cocktail and the baked redfish filet topped with
crab meat and asked if I would order for her. I typically
required my girls to order their own meals to develop social
confidence, but I conceded under the circumstances rather than
raise an issue that might dampen the mood. I decided the redfish
sounded good, too, and ordered a cup of seafood gumbo to start. 

Chelsea was on cloud nine knowing she would never have to live at
Hope House or with foster parents again, and I shared in her joy.
Our lives had been altered so dramatically since that misty night
in November when she appeared at my condo. I'd found through the
years that the only certainty in life - besides the clich of
death and taxes - is change. Our lives progress on an ever
changing trip through time until death takes us. Nothing is
static. Chelsea coming into my life again had been completely
unexpected, and she provided me with a sense of purpose I'd
missed since my family moved out of state. I was overjoyed that I
had been able to adopt her away from a loveless existence as a
ward of the state. Of course, our love with its mystical bond and
electrifying sexual tension added to the elevated spirits of the
evening. 

Our dinners were delicious and the service was outstanding, as I
had expected they would be. Seeing Chelsea so happy warmed my
heart, and we thoroughly enjoyed the experience. I was pleased to
see that she was comfortable with table etiquette in that
setting; her parents must have taught her those lessons early.
Our conversation flitted through a range of topics mostly
centered on her hopes and dreams since her future was secure.
When they cleared our entres, she looked at me with innocently
smoldering eyes and asked if we could have dessert at home. I
took care of the bill and we headed back. 

Chelsea didn't have school the next morning because it was a
teachers' work day, and I had arranged for an extended weekend
off to spend with her. It was still early in any event, since our
reservations had been for six-thirty. When I poured a glass of
wine for myself, she asked if she could have some, too, so I
allowed her half a glass. It's not like I was plying her with
alcohol to get into her panties   that was a given   and a couple
of ounces or so wouldn't get her too tipsy. When I handed it to
her, she took a small sip without grimacing, as my daughters had
always responded to a sample taste. I put on a CD of Vivaldi's
Four Seasons and lit the fire while she waited for me on the
couch. 

She had kicked off her shoes and was sitting up with her legs
folded under her to the side and her left hand casually resting
on the arm of the couch. I sat next to her as she rotated her
torso towards me, put my arm around her shoulder and drew her in
for a series of tender pecking kisses on her velvety soft face,
neck and ears while murmuring compliments on her beauty and
sexual allure, which heightened her desire as she melted into me.
When she could wait no longer; she gently took my head in her
hands and we merged in a lip tingling kiss that made the uncanny
connection between us throb, swirl and build. We stood and began
undressing each other, taking our time and caressing each
other... lips meeting for another kiss. She removed my clothes
while I got her down to her panties and lightly tweaked her
hardened nipples. She closed her eyes and shuddered in pleasure.
Then I stooped to remove her plain cotton panties and kissed her
feathery mons before rising. My finger slipped between her legs
as I did so confirming that she was wet and ready. Leaning down
to reach her upturned lips, my hands massaged her supple butt and
then lifted her so she could wrap her legs around my waist and
hang on. Her hot little twat was pressed against my belly and I
could feel her accelerated heartbeat pulsing through it. My
hard-on was raging below. She was so light in my arms and my dick
was grazing her ass, so I adjusted her position a bit and,
supporting her with one hand, swiped the head of my dick through
her moist crevice with the other and seated it in her notch as
our kiss came to an end. She immediately got the idea. She was so
wet there was no resistance as she slowly sagged to encase her
silky sheath over my rigid shaft. With the orchestra's vibrant
strings setting a slow pace, I gently pumped while supporting her
cheeks as she lifted and descended in a dance more erotic than
any I could have imagined. It took a minute or two that time for
her rippling vaginal muscles to begin actively feeding, and once
they did, the sensations became so intense I had to ruin the
moment by mentioning we needed to get a rubber. She made a snide
comment about getting on birth control as I eased myself down
onto the couch without unseating her. 

She adjusted her position and laid her head against my chest -
still impaled - listening to my heartbeat while her bewitched
honey pot continued suckling on me. Finally, I had to say, "Come
on, Chelsea... we can't afford to get you pregnant and that feels
way too good. I know your period is due Sunday or Monday, but we
really can't take any chances... Do you know what they call
couples that use the rhythm method?" 

"What's the rhythm method?" she murmured.

"That's what they call not using condoms when you are close to
your period thinking you are safe."

"Okay... What do they call them?"

"Parents."

She giggled at the old joke and I added, "It is better that your
periods are regular, Darlin', but it's always chancy. Maybe
Saturday or Sunday we can do it without a condom." 

With that she huffed, climbed off of me and ran to the room to
retrieve one of the foil packages. By the time she returned mere
seconds later, she had ripped it open and tossed the wrapper
aside in her haste. She leaned over from the waist, gripped the
tip of the condom between her thumb and finger like I'd shown her
and smoothly rolled it into place with the other hand. Then she
climbed on and reached between her legs to guide it in. She
bottomed out on the first stroke, and we effortlessly fell into
pace with the music. Her active vagina hadn't stopped pulsating
while she was gone. Like a baby momentarily losing its mother's
nipple, it continued attempting to nourish on air while searching
for what it needed to fill the void. It literally devoured me
when I entered her - swallowing me into its depths. Sitting on
the couch with her riding my cock was new for us and it felt
unbelievably good. It had the additional benefit of presenting
her perfect little mounds and nipples for fondling, tweaking and
sucking - the latter requiring some effort to reach without
interrupting the action below. She started cumming within a
minute or two and didn't stop. I held out for almost ten minutes
before a massive mutual orgasm overcame us with hurricane winds
of euphoria repeatedly crashing through our systems. Finally, she
collapsed, panting and heaving against my chest with my dick,
still stiff, buried in her to the hilt. Once she recovered enough
to speak she quietly said, "Sean, I think we just found, like, my
favorite position of all! That was totally awesome!"

"It sure was, Darlin'. Most females enjoy this one. You can
control the action, and your clit is tipped against my pelvis and
the base of my dick. I really like it, too, because we're face to
face and we can cuddle and kiss   and I get to play with your
tits."

"It's so sooo awesome! I want to do that one, like, over and
over!"

"We will, Darlin'   as often as you want." I reflected on the
commitment I'd just made and wished I was twenty years younger so
I could keep it. My almost forty libido wasn't going to hold up
to her youthful hyper-active sex drive, but I would give it my
best shot. I made a note to myself to get a prescription for
those blue pills my pharmacist had given me.

We stayed together like that for quite a while in silent
post-orgasmic bliss and, for a moment there, I thought she might
be falling asleep. She murmured something about how great my dick
softening inside her felt, and I agreed. I suggested dessert. She
said she wanted to get cleaned up first, and she held the rubber
as I'd taught her as she pulled it off of my limp but still
hanging thick dick. Some of our fluids leaked due to gravity as I
softened and more dripped down when the firm grip of her vagina
released its hold. She asked me to stay there while she grabbed
paper towels from the kitchen. She dampened a few and, all in a
matter of seconds, sucked in her already flat belly, raised her
slender left leg onto its toes with the bent knee tipped to the
side for better access, and squatted slightly as she thoroughly
wiped herself. Then she returned to remove the rubber and clean
the spillage from my crotch and the leather couch before heading
to the bathroom. I went to the kitchen to make a cup of instant
coffee for me and a hot chocolate for her. Slices of cherry pie
were heated up in the microwave. I heard the shower running and
waited until she arrived before adding scoops of vanilla ice
cream to our plates. She came out naked, of course, with her hair
damp but not soaked. It appeared as if she had tried to keep it
out of the spray and missed.

We enjoyed dessert over her repeated expressions of exuberance
that my condo was now her home and those ugly chapters of her
life were behind her forever. It was her first time in the condo
with me - except for that Monday morning after our first weekend
together when we called it in - that I wasn't plagued with
nagging thoughts of major trouble ensuing if authorities learned
of her presence. Of course, what we were doing would raise
alarms, but the fact she was there was no longer an issue.

We discussed getting her situated in Britney's room the next day,
which was hers, too, at that point. She would be sleeping with
me, but she needed a private space and appearances had to be
maintained. I didn't expect CPS to have any further interest in
her, but others would be visiting from time to time   including
my daughters   and we didn't wish to raise even a hint of
suspicion regarding the true nature of our relationship.
	
As we cleared the table and rinsed the dishes, I mentioned that
the girls wanted her to call. It was a little after nine our time
but still early on the west coast. She called and shared with
Britney, and Rachel on an extension, her excitement about the
adoption and our dinner out. I found it amusing to observe her
animatedly chatting with her new sisters while prancing around
the living room stark naked with a freshly fucked glow. I turned
on the TV to catch what was left of the nine o'clock news while
they chatted. When she was done with them, she called Amy to tell
her about our celebration dinner. When she hung up that time, she
launched herself onto the couch to cuddle with me. 

After another kiss, during which I was struck once again by the
incredible softness of her bee stung lips, she tipped her head up
to ask, "Can you, like, do me in the butt tonight, Sean? I went
to the bathroom and cleaned it real good with that, um, enema
thingy."

"Sure, Darlin'. That sounds like fun!" I responded softly as I
held her close.

"I've been, like, wanting to try it again. That time we did it
was awesome!" 

Anal play had often been incorporated into our lovemaking, but I
hadn't fucked her there since that eventful Sunday when she
underwent a crash course in the love arts and lost all of her
cherries. We retired to the bedroom arm in arm and quickly got
the music - her pop radio station this time - towels and lighting
set. I retrieved the KY from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom
and placed it on the night stand within easy reach. 

Kissing and caressing for a few minutes first, we swung smoothly
into a sixty-nine where visuals of my little nympho's diminutive
bare labia and ass coupled with her divine taste and the
ministrations of her talented lips, tongue and throat brought my
dick to full attention in no time. While I teased her clit and
lapped at the nectar dripping from her kitty, I stretched her
sphincter with my right thumb lubricated with her slippery
fluids: pressing it through the rim and shallow fucking her with
it... then withdrawing it completely before penetrating her
again. Soon her orgasmic train was running at full speed and,
when she recovered from what seemed a particularly delightful
one, I asked if she was ready for the main event. She climbed off
of me, and we embraced and kissed hungrily before I spread a
towel over a pillow on the center of the bed. I knew from
experience that KY on the sheets can be messy.

I had her lay on her back on the towel with the pillow under her
butt to elevate it for me. Then I folded her legs back and asked
her to hold them in that position while I speared her pink knot
with the tip of the KY tube to squirt a couple of liberal shots
in there. She twitched her bottom and commented on how cold it
was. Instead of greasing my dick this time, I wet it in her tight
seething pussy while stroking her through another small orgasm. 

When she was done, I withdrew, had her pull her knees back
further to tip her pelvis up, and guided my dick to the pocket
below leading to her nether hole. She wrapped her arms behind her
knees to hold them to her chest, and her position and cushy
hairless labia brought to mind changing my girls' diapers when
they were babies. I let it go and gazed into her eyes to see if
there was any trepidation or pain reflected in them as I slowly
applied pressure and eased the head through her muscular ring.
Noticing the slightest wince as it closed behind the crown, I
paused for a minute while leaning in for another kiss to let her
body adjust to its thickness. Rising after a minute or so
supported on extended arms, I slowly and gently pumped my way
into her ass, evenly distributing the lubricants and allowing her
body to accept it gradually. The sight of her upturned tiny tight
peach-pink anus stretched widely to accept the thick base of my
mature penis was simply obscene, and I shamefully realized the
vision made me even hornier...

Once fully imbedded, I held it deep and folded my torso over her,
supporting my weight on forearms and extended knees, as we began
gently rocking to the rhythms of a slow intro on the radio. That
angle of penetration, while slightly shallower than doggie
position, allowed for direct stimulation of her clit with my
pelvic ridge as she ground it against me. My hairy chest also
teased her stiffened nipples as it dragged back and forth across
them with the motion. The tempo of the song picked up and I was
long-stroking her tight ass and reveling in the sensations from
spasmodic contractions of her rubbery ring as orgasms peaked and
ebbed through her tiny frame. I was able to maintain control for
longer this time, and fluids continually trickling from her pussy
kept things well-oiled for us below. Finally, she approached a
massive crest   wantonly moaning, panting, and thrusting her ass
up to meet my cock. We picked up the pace until I was ramming her
little butt for a few strokes, and we came simultaneously with
ecstatic pleasure pouring through our nervous systems as I
emptied my balls deep into her bowels. The contractions of her
sphincter as she came that time were so strong they bordered on
being painful.

Our breathing slowed as we cuddled with my dick softening within
her, and we murmured soft phrases of appreciation and love
punctuated by sweet tender kisses. When my spent dick plopped out
of her ass, she commented that she liked that position even
better than her being on top. I asked her if she was okay and she
said, "I'm fine... it felt great!"

We were tired from our big day, so we quickly peed - she did more
to evacuate my seed from her rectum - cleaned up, brushed our
teeth and cuddled spoon fashion under a blanket until we drifted
off into deep contented sleep. 

There was no wake-up blow job the next morning but knowing where
my dick had been the night before, I didn't mind. We took a quick
shower together and I got her off a couple of times while soaping
and rinsing her insatiable little treasures. Then she
enthusiastically sucked and swallowed my first load of the day. 

I noticed Chelsea was walking and sitting gingerly when we got up
that morning and reminded myself she was only thirteen with
extremely tender tissues not yet acclimated to the rigors of sex
 much less an ass pounding from an adult male. I resolved to take
it easier on her in the future regardless of her urgings. It was
easy enough to get carried away in the passion of the moment, but
I didn't like to see her hurting. When I mentioned it to her, she
admitted she was sore but didn't complain. I had her take some
Motrin again and she seemed to improve as the morning went on.
Later she mentioned that it made her sore but it was so much fun
it was a good sore.

We prepared and ate breakfast naked, and then we set about
unpacking the two suitcases, backpack, single large cardboard box
and a shopping bag containing all of her worldly possessions
except the clothes she had worn the day before and the cell phone
and charger she lent to Amy. We got her things organized in the
bedroom and hall bathroom pretty quickly. She had given away or
disposed of clothes that no longer fit or were too worn out
because I had promised her a shopping trip once she moved in. My
daughters didn't leave much of their clothing at my place; most
of it was hauled back and forth when they visited, so there were
three empty drawers in Britney's dresser and plenty of hanging
space in the closet.

The sight of a naked nymphet doing chores is something a man my
age doesn't generally have the opportunity to see, and I counted
my blessings again and admired her as I helped unpack. At one
point, the thought occurred to me that karma might smack me down
in the future for my transgressions. Then I reasoned that girls
her age were considered marriage material until the last century
of human history   and many of them married much older men
throughout the millenniums. She was of breeding age and God, or
cosmic forces, would not view my actions as a sin. Modern society
was another matter.

Chelsea called Amy and learned she was on her way out the door to
meet with prospective foster parents. They agreed to speak later
when she returned. 

We decided to get dressed so I could give her a walking tour of
the neighborhood to familiarize with her with it. I also wanted
to introduce her as my new daughter to acquaintances in
establishments I frequented and neighbors we encountered along
the way. It was a sunny windless winter morning with bright blue
skies and temperatures in the high forties - a beautiful day for
a walk.  She was in a perky mood, and there were no signs of her
earlier discomfort as she excitedly explored her new
surroundings. The facts that most of what she might need or want
was available within a short walking distance in the neighborhood
and she didn't see degenerates hanging around thoroughly
impressed her. I cautioned her about the safe radius from home
and the directions to avoid walking too far. Like most cities,
there were patches of rougher areas sprinkled around in addition
to the ghettos.

We stopped at a local hamburger joint down the street for lunch.
Sandy, my usual waitress who had probably been working at the
grand opening decades before, fawned over Chelsea and told her
she was welcome to visit any time and to let her know if she ever
needed anything. Her words reminded me that I would have to build
a support network for Chelsea in case an emergency arose in the
future.

After lunch we took off to the mall for a major shopping trip. I
bought her five complete school outfits, a pair of running shoes
and some flats, a robe, and two new sets of gym clothes for
school. We also picked up three sets of pop band t-shirts and
loose soft cotton print pajama pants that teen girls wore those
days to sleep. Then we stopped by Victoria's Secret to buy her
underwear including two sexy satin and lace matched sets she
pleaded for along several more conservative cotton bra and panty
mix and match combinations she could wear to school   doubled up
on the panties since I was aware that females sometimes need to
change them more than once a day. The latter were bikini styles
using quite a bit less material than the full cut white cotton
ones her last foster mother had insisted she wear. In junior
high, kids dress out for gym and her peers had been kidding her
about her "little girly" panties, so she really despised them. I
had known about the issue for some time but I didn't want to
explain why I was buying her underwear until she was my child. I
did get a look from an older sales clerk when we checked out
making me wonder if I may have erred in letting her buy the sexy
underthings. That caused me to reflect upon why they had them in
her sizes in the first place.

While Chelsea was trying on clothes at The Gap, I sat on a faux
leather padded bench and observed the shopping crowd around me.
It wasn't news that I was more focused on girls in her age range,
but I was a little chagrined to realize that beautiful women in
their twenties and thirties held less appeal to me. There were a
few pretty women in their prime that got my attention but, having
tasted the forbidden fruit, my perspective on desirable females
was shifting. I knew Chelsea would grow and mature in just a few
short years and I would always love her, but I wondered then how
much I would miss her succulent pubescent body in the future.

By the time we got home and unloaded the car, I was exhausted and
dropped into my recliner for a nap while she busily stowed her
treasures. I awoke about forty minutes later feeling refreshed
and found her in Britney's room sprawled across the bed wearing
one of the pajama outfits and chatting on the phone with her
ex-roommate. I later learned that Amy would be moving to a foster
home within a week, and she was expecting us to visit around
eight-thirty or nine the next morning.

We decided to order pizza that night and see if we could find a
good movie on TV. Sex wasn't very high on my agenda, but I
figured my young nympho would probably want attention at some
point. While she had been trying on an armful of clothes at Pac
Sun, I called to make an appointment with my physician for the
following Tuesday morning. I'd researched erectile dysfunction
medications online earlier in the week and thought Cialis might
be the best bet because it had a thirty-six hour effective
period. I stopped in at the nutrition store at the mall, too, to
pick up some multi-vitamins - handfuls of horse pills in daily
dosage packets - and resolved to get more exercise. Keeping up
with Chelsea in the sack was going to require additional
stamina.

She was still wearing her pajama outfit when the pizza was
delivered, and she buzzed the guy up and gave him the check I'd
written. We ate in the living room watching television. Seeing
her hanging around the condo dressed was unusual but I didn't
think it worthy of mention. She was just enjoying her new pj's.
It appeared the TV might be just as monopolized by her as it was
by my natural daughters when they were visiting. When I was
alone, it was only on for news, respected films, and occasional
sports programs for the most part; I preferred other means of
entertainment. Of course, homework would be cutting into her TV
time, but we had reviewed what needed to get done over the
weekend and decided it could wait until Sunday. We watched a
silly sitcom and enjoyed our pizza while laughing and commenting
on the antics of the characters. 

When the show was over, she wanted to play Scrabble again. Her
words this time didn't have the sexual connotations they did in
our first game, but she had some strong word scores. I drew very
good letter combinations for the board almost every time, and I
beat her soundly. Still, she displayed sufficient prowess for me
to respect her as a player; I couldn't take her lightly. It
occurred to me that she didn't use much of her extensive
vocabulary in her speech patterns, which may have been an effort
to downplay her intelligence to fit in with her peers. I decided
we would have to work on that. 

The edge of Chelsea's exhilaration had worn off   she had been
riding a super-high since the day before but she was still in a
charming mood. Earlier, she thanked me profusely for taking her
shopping and filling out her wardrobe, and she expressed her
gratitude again as we played the game   adding with her
mischievous gleam that she wanted to model her sexy new undies
for me later. 

She asked if we could to watch a romantic comedy (chick flicks
are not my favorite genre, but I don't hate them), and we found
three choices on my cable channels starting within the hour:
Runaway Bride, Miss Congeniality and Coyote Ugly. She debated for
a minute and decided on the latter with a start time in about
twenty minutes. Since the opportunity was there, she moved in for
some cuddles and kisses. Then we took bathroom breaks, refreshed
our drinks and microwaved popcorn before sitting down to watch it
with my arm around her shoulder and her delicate little hand
resting on my thigh.

About fifteen minutes into the movie she sat up, stripped off her
t-shirt and asked me to scratch her back. I pointed out that back
scratching works both ways, and she cheerfully promised to return
the favor later. She rested her head on my lap lying on her side
while I did so. She wasn't wearing a bra, and I recalled the
numerous times I had done that for her since she was little -
when she was fully clothed, of course, and flat-chested. We got
back into the movie while I lightly scratched her back, making
sure I kept my hand moving so my nails wouldn't irritate her
tender skin. It was so sensitive they left temporary red streaks
in its creamy texture anyway. Her hand was draped on her thigh,
and I couldn't help but admire the profile of her small white
breast with its puffy nipple. My hand wandered to casually caress
it   gently rubbing and tugging on her teat until it hardened
under my fingers.  She closed her eyes and moaned in pleasure, so
I continued teasing her for a minute or two before returning to
the task at hand.

The movie was entertaining enough and we enjoyed it. When it
ended Chelsea was overcome by a sudden burst of youthful energy.
She scurried off to her room to don her new underwear while I
turned off the TV and chose a CD of John Williams, (the guitarist
rather than the conductor), playing the works of the Paraguayan
composer, Augustine Barrios-Mangore. I particularly enjoy
Williams' interpretation of "Choro de Saudade", which I had
played in recital in college. The piece requires tuning the E
string down to C and lowering the A string to G, and it demands
massive stretches from the left hand.

It took her a while to get back making me wonder what was keeping
her. The living image of Nabokov's Lolita swayed into the living
room wobbling a bit on the low heels she'd worn the night before.
I was awestruck, and my dick throbbed in response. The low cut
lacy black bra and matching scant panties on her slender hips
showed sufficient creamy skin to tantalize while covering just
enough to leave a touch of mystery. The heels accentuated the
taut curve of her little butt. She had teased her hair and put on
coral lipstick, a little mascara, and touch of rouge to complete
the fantasy. It occurred to me that she was a pervert's dream,
and the fact that I had recently evolved to fit society's
definition of that class of degenerates was not lost on me... I
gave her a low wolf whistle and a big grin, which earned me a
blushing beaming smile in return. She slowly twirled to show off
from all angles while keeping her eyes on mine   with a quick
rotation of her head, with a toss of her hair, when it became
necessary. Then she wiggled her way to the hall in an exaggerated
manner, falling off the side of her right shoe and ending in a
fit of giggles. I couldn't keep the smile off of my face   not
that I wanted to.

The second outfit was a shade of turquoise satin that made her
light skin, gorgeous eyes and soft blonde naturally highlighted
hair really pop; it was the perfect color for her and it showed
in her confidence. The bra was similar in design to the first but
her hardened nipples were more apparent - causing me to speculate
whether she had tweaked them or if modeling for me was turning
her on   maybe both. The panties had a lacy "v" pointing to the
target and ending just below the top of her slit. She was
incredibly sexy in a coltish way, and her face lit up at my
hungry stare and again when her eyes fell to the full bulge in my
slacks. As she repeated her slow turn to exhibit the back, which
exposed most of her unblemished little cheeks, I said in a smooth
tone, "Mmm! Very very sexy, Darlin'! We'll have to remember to
hide those in my room when the girls visit... Then I captured her
eyes and added in a low pitched softer growl, "Come here..."

She approached as gracefully as she could as I arose to embrace
her. We shared another of those languid loving kisses neither of
us could get enough of with our tongues gently probing and
teasing and our hearts pounding. She undressed me, and I assisted
while letting her enjoy her sexy attire a little longer. 

"Do you want to show me, like, something new tonight, Sean?"

"We could do that. Let me think..." I was a bit worn out from our
busy day and, while my cock was demanding action, I wasn't up for
anything too energetic. I picked her up and carried her to the
bedroom. We paused in front of the mirror for a few seconds so
she could admire her sexy lingerie and the sight of herself in my
arms. Then I gently laid her on the bed. We kissed and teased for
a while before I slowly removed her bra and panties   taking time
to play as her ripening jewels were revealed - and tossed them
aside. Then she rolled a condom on me, and I gently embraced her
as I entered her spoon fashion. We lazily screwed and cuddled
before picking up the pace briefly as I came. She'd had several
orgasms by that time and joined me in mine, too, but neither of
us had a powerful one that night. Afterwards, she commented that
the position was really awesome because she felt so safe and
loved cuddled my arms. We stayed like that for a long time and I
had almost fallen asleep when she rolled over to kiss me,
bringing me back to consciousness.

We returned to the living room after washing up and just sat on
the couch naked reading together with NPR playing light jazz on
the radio. "Maybe the TV wouldn't be as much of an issue as I
thought..." Then Amy called again and I left her to her
conversation while I fired up my computer to check e-mails and
get a little work done.

I slept soundly until I was awakened at dawn by her soft warm
lips and tongue working me towards a morning orgasm. I let her do
her thing and Brock gave her a protein snack a few minutes later.
I recall thinking I could easily get used to that. It was
something none of my previous lovers had ever done for me. 

I made coffee as we talked about what we could do with the day.
She asked for a cup, too, so I prepared one for her with extra
milk and minimal sweetener. She didn't need the energy boost. She
wanted some attention before showering and getting ready to pick
Amy up, so I licked, sucked and played her on the bed until she
came hard. There was a new twist added that morning when I
recalled that rhythmically patting or lightly slapping a pussy
with the flats of loosely joined fingers was enjoyable for
females. I began softly and asked for her to let me know when she
wanted it harder. She moaned and writhed in ecstasy as I
repeatedly patted her tender twat but she only took me up a
couple of notches in intensity before I changed techniques. I was
focused on her clit with lips and tongue as my right hand rested
on her lower abdomen when the strong contractions hit signaling a
good orgasm. I could distinctly feel each spasm through my
fingers and palm as I watched her shuddering and moaning in
nirvana.

Soon after we met up with Amy in the entertainment room of Hope
House, Charlene walked by and Chelsea called out to her, "Ms.
Charlene, can we, like, take Amy to I-Hop for breakfast?" 

She turned and greeted us before responding, "Well, I think that
would be okay, Chelsea." 

The girls responded almost in unison, "Awesome! Thank you, Miss
Charlene!" in their clear musical tones.

Charlene acknowledged their thanks and turned to me to add,
"Since you were cleared by CPS for the adoption, Sean, you're
approved to take her out to spend time with your daughter. Just
sign her in and out, and let us know where you will be and when
to expect her back. Of course, this is subject to her not having
prior commitments or being punished for any rules she might
break." 

She glanced towards Amy and added, "We don't expect any trouble
from Amy, really. She's a sweetheart." 

Addressing me again, she said, "We feel it is important that our
girls maintain friendships, and those two have obviously become
close."

"I'm glad you feel that way. The girls cooked this one up on
their own, Charlene, but I don't mind at all. I thought we were
just going to take her to Fuzzy's for breakfast and take a walk
around the neighborhood. Tell you what; we'll eat at I-Hop, and
I'll call to let you know what else might be on the agenda. Is
that okay with you?"

"That's fine." 

The girls were bubbling over with excitement and already
scampering off to Amy's room to get her coat.

Charlene continued, "I've meant to tell you, Sean, I really
admire you for everything you've done for Chelsea. I can't say
I've ever heard of a single man adopting one of our girls, but
she has bloomed before our eyes in the past few months. Her
spirit was completely broken when she came to us   with good
reason, of course   and you've done more for her than all of the
therapy and foster care she's had since she arrived."

My illicit relationship with my new daughter flashed to mind, but
I was able to smile, look her in the eye and honestly reply with
a straight face, "Thanks, Charlene. I'm fortunate to be in a
position to help her. She brings joy to my life for the first
time since my girls moved to California. I really love having her
around."

En route to I-Hop, I chastised the girls for making plans behind
my back. They could tell by my tone that I wasn't really angry,
but they apologized and sheepishly agreed to ask first in the
future. Within seconds they brightened up and started chatting
about what they wanted to eat and then moved on to school gossip.
Amy craned her neck to check my expression in the rearview mirror
a couple of times along the way to make sure they weren't in
trouble. I thoroughly enjoyed listening to them interact in their
excited girly voices. I had really missed the energy of having
kids around.

The line at I-Hop wasn't bad for a Saturday morning, and we were
seated in about ten minutes. The food was pretty good for a chain
restaurant, but it was busy so the noise levels were high. The
girls raised various possibilities for things they wanted to do
after afterwards. I nixed the idea of the zoo (the first thing
out of Amy's mouth) because it was too cold and most of the
animals wouldn't be out, anyway. The weather ruled out other
extended outdoor activities, too. The aquarium was a strong
suggestion my daughter came up with, and Amy really wanted to see
Chelsea's new home. 

I called Charlene to tell her we were going to show Amy our place
and then visit the aquarium. We would probably have lunch there
and get her back some time in the mid to late afternoon. She
agreed and wished us a good time.

Entering my neighborhood, it occurred to me that we had evidence
from the night before lying around, and I mentally kicked myself
for not thinking of it earlier. I thought the living room and
kitchen were okay, but I didn't know if Chelsea had left her lacy
black underwear on her bedroom floor. Her bed hadn't been slept
in either. Her turquoise bra and panties were still on the carpet
in my room where I had thrown them, and there was a used condom
in the trash basket in there, too. My bedroom I could cover, but
Chelsea's room was the first place they would head. I couldn't
figure out how to get word to Chelsea about it with them
chattering away in the back seat, so I decided to we had to wing
it. I needed to come up with some kind of diversion; changing
plans that late in the game would raise protests and too many
questions. The problem was solved when Amy mentioned she really
had to pee as we were pulling into the parking garage. 

When we entered the condo, I recalled the foil wrapper from the
condom the night before, which I didn't see as I hurriedly
scanned the floor. Amy bolted for the bathroom after getting
directions, and I quickly told Chelsea in a hushed voice what we
had done and what we needed to do. She flushed guiltily, told me
she'd already picked up the condom wrapper, and ran to her room
to straighten it up while I took care of mine, including spraying
it with some air freshener. By the time Amy came out, we were
sitting in the living room chatting and acting as if nothing was
amiss. I wondered at the time, though, if she'd heard us
scurrying around out there. Chelsea showed her around her new
home, and Amy thought it was awesome. Kids of every generation
have their buzz words; my equivalent had been "cool". 

They were talking in Chelsea's room when I appeared at the door
to see if they were ready to go. Amy was lying on her stomach
facing away from the door wearing a loose skirt that came to just
above her knees (when she was standing, of course). When she
rolled over and sat up, I caught a quick flash of the gusset of
her pink nylon panties   under which I knew lay a virgin pussy my
daughter had licked and buzzed with a vibrator. That image became
a highlight of my morning even though before Chelsea came back
into my life I wouldn't have given it a second thought... 

The aquarium was very enjoyable and indicators of Amy's intense
curiosity and dazzling mind surfaced through the day. Chelsea was
very intelligent, but I got the impression that Amy might have
been a shoo-in for Mensa. Both of them soaked up knowledge,
shared what they already knew and asked a myriad of questions as
we toured the exhibits. I could see the friendship was great for
both of them; they challenged each other intellectually, liked
most of the same things, and had personalities that meshed well.
They were particularly awed by the large saltwater tank with its
variety of sea life and petting the small sand sharks. We dined
on greasy burgers, fries and cokes that cost an arm and a leg in
the grill, but that was to be expected in a tourist trap. After
about four hours there our energies were waning, so we took Amy
back to Hope House. Chelsea asked if Amy could keep her cell
phone again, but I told her I needed to be able to reach her if I
had business to attend to after school during the week, so that
wouldn't work. Amy reluctantly handed her the phone and promised
to call later.  

That night we made an easy dinner and shared a quiet evening. We
just took time out for a quickie and spent the rest of our time
on other activities. Apparently, three days of sex in a row had
taken the edge off of her horniness. She asked me to teach her
guitar, so I gave her a lesson on a smaller instrument with a
shorter scale length   meaning the frets were closer together for
smaller hands; it also had a narrower neck for the same reason.
The instrument had been a gift to my girls one Christmas, but
neither of them had taken a sincere interest in it. Chelsea
worked on her homework and spent time in her room practicing what
she had learned - interrupted by a lengthy call from Amy. I sat
at the keyboard in my room finishing a jingle I was writing for a
local radio commercial. 

On Sunday morning we made love without a condom for the third
time in our relationship. Then we ate, showered and stayed nude
until we prepared to leave. Her casual nakedness was, as always,
exhilarating. My ex had never been secure in nudity, even before
children, choosing to put panties and a robe on as soon as we
were finished making love.

Chelsea talked me into taking Amy out again that day. She also
asked if I would mind if she let Amy borrow her vibrator. I told
her it would be okay, but she needed to caution her to be very
careful with it and not tell where she got it if she did get
caught. On the way to Hope House we stopped to buy some fresh
batteries for it. 

We took Amy to the mall, and I purchased some inexpensive costume
jewelry at Claire's for both of them. As we shopped, I noticed a
few of the horny young guys in their age group drooling over my
companions. While both were very pretty, they were more focused
on Chelsea since she was a bit more developed. We had lunch in
the food court and caught a teen flick matinee at the theater
complex before dropping Amy off. 

When we got home, Chelsea concentrated on finishing homework
while I worked on an instrumental arrangement I was creating for
a chamber of commerce commercial. After dinner we straightened up
the kitchen and living room together. Then she practiced guitar
and talked to Amy while I worked on my schedule trying to line
out everything I needed to get accomplished during the week. My
new daughter added a lot to my plate, but I was accustomed to
juggling a busy schedule; it was just a matter of organization. I
also called the girls, paid bills, caught up on e-mail, and
revised my budget. Old jazz tunes were playing softly in the
background as I worked.

About two hours later, Chelsea came to my room, naked as usual,
wrapped her thin arms around me from behind and pressed her soft
cheek against mine. I was wearing boxers, because it just felt
weird working in the nude. She kissed my neck and sweetly asked
in her tinkling bedroom voice, "Hey, Daddy. Does Brock want to
play?"

She was obviously feeling frisky and wanted to take advantage of
the fact that her period was imminent. I responded, "Sounds good
to me, Darlin'. Let me finish this up; it should only take a few
minutes." 

I had just put on Dave Brubeck's "Time Out" CD (recorded in the
fifties and re-mastered for digital) before she came in. As I
focused on the task at hand, I heard her peeing in the bathroom
over the soft music followed by the toilet flushing and the
faucet running. 

It took a little longer than I thought to finish up the budget,
and I didn't hear anything further from her. When I was done, I
swung my chair around to find her lying on the bed with her eyes
closed and her knees cocked and flopped to the sides,
masturbating to the music and lost in her own little world. It
had been a long time since I'd seen a female pleasuring herself,
and watching my juvenile nympho going at it was a special treat.
My dick sprang to attention in spite of our busy sex life over
the previous few days, so I fished it out of my fly and began
slowly stroking with my attention riveted to the scene playing
out before me. 

The position of her petite body reminded me of the morning I'd
had my first close look at her pussy while treating an ingrown
hair. Her right hand was working on her genitals while her left
tugged and teased her nipples working herself up. The actions of
her right hand were fascinating as it slow danced on her pussy
though a series of practiced moves. Rubbing her clit side to side
segued to plunging the first two joints of dual fingers into her
vagina a few times before changing again to spread fingers
scissoring her labia majora with vertical strokes or rubbing her
entire pussy with extended fingers. At one point she reached
lower to massage her anus, pressing against the muscular entrance
with the tip of her middle finger and then rubbing tight circles
on it with the pads of two fingers. She returned to her pussy,
continuing her favored moves in random and sometimes jerky
patterns as her tempo increased. Her breathing became erratic and
her face grew brightly flushed with her neck and jaw muscles
alternately tensing and slackening. Finally, she focused on her
clit with two fingers gripping the hood between them and her hand
rapidly fanning side to side   breaking the action with the pads
of three fingers mashed into her clit rubbing in slightly slower
clockwise circles before returning to her previous technique. Her
legs stretched out and then drew up slightly as she dug her heels
in and held her breath - lifting her head with neck cords
straining and her ass floating an inch or two off of the bed. Her
belly was drawn in and her pussy was the highest point of the low
arch formed by her body. She took a quick breath, holding it
again, and the fanning motion increased to lightning speed for a
few seconds as she swayed on shoulders and heels seeking sweet
release. Then it hit - dropping her to the bed. She moaned loudly
and repeatedly convulsed, rolling from side to side for almost a
minute while tightly squeezing her pussy. Finally, she curled on
her side in fetal position with her hand still trapped between
her legs and remained motionless   chest heaving and body
twitching and shivering until the lingering sensations faded. She
took a slow deep breath and relaxed with her eyes still closed.
The entire scene had taken less than five minutes, but it was
enthralling...

I waited until her breathing evened out and her color improved
before lightly applauding in appreciation of her show. Her eyes
popped open, and she beamed at me   immediately focusing the
rigid staff of flesh rising from my fly. Then she blushed and
said, "I just wanted to get Tina warmed up for Brock. I didn't,
um, know you were watching."

As I approached, I replied, "Wow, Darlin'! That was one of the
most erotic scenes I've ever witnessed. As you can see, it got
Brock ready, too." 

She giggled and sat up to embrace me as I joined her on the bed.
We kissed passionately with our hands roaming over each other's
necks, shoulders and backs. Then I lifted the small hand coated
with her nectar and sucked and licked the flavor from her fingers
one at a time. I was hard as ever and she was obviously prepared.
She asked if we could try something different again this time. I
sat up and had her mount me in a similar fashion to our position
on the couch two nights before. In this variation, I hooked my
heels behind her butt, with her following suit, and we wrapped
our arms around each other. Then I rocked her forward and back in
a child's rocking horse motion creating a gentle pumping action
below where her clit was mashed against my pelvis. She moaned,
"Oooh! This is so nice!" Another hungry kiss cut off my response.
Shortly, her pussy began doing its rippling thing on my dick.

"Take Five" began with Paul Desmond's amazing solo work on the
sax over the stilted five-four rhythm driven by Brubeck. I
matched the pulse with a longer withdrawal on the triplet and a
shorter thrust on the duplet.  When the tune ended, I maintained
a mostly steady medium speed rocking motion for ten to fifteen
minutes, varying the length of the stroke by the distance we
rocked. She came three or four times and, for a change, I didn't
break our tempo when she peaked   continuing to rock her right
through it. Then I laid back, relaxed and let her ride me cowgirl
until she came hard and her exquisite pussy finally milked an
orgasm out of me. I didn't have much to offer. I'd had more sex
in four days than in the entire last year of my marriage. 

I noticed a few thick globules of blood on my dick and the sheets
as we got up to shower; her period had started. We bathed,
stripped the linens to soak them in cold water, remade the bed
and cuddled together naked as slumber overtook us. 

Monday morning I awoke to Chelsea giving me a wake-up blowjob
again. It took her a while to get me there in spite of her
talents. I hadn't had enough rest to replenish my reserves. This
time it stopped at pleasuring me; she declined my offer to get
her off citing her period. We showered, dressed and ate a light
breakfast. Then I dropped her off at school and went into the
office to straighten out her paperwork. I gave them a copy of the
adoption decree Suzanne had e-mailed me on Friday and filled out
and signed the numerous forms they required to get everything
done. I also picked up a copy of her shot record from their file,
which turned out to be unnecessary. That afternoon a thick
package arrived from CPS with her birth certificate, school
transcripts, medical records and other documents. They were added
to the burgeoning Chelsea folder stored in a file cabinet in my
closet for further study at a later date.

I met with my agent for a scheduled late morning meeting. When I
arrived, the first thing he told me was that Paramount Pictures
had contacted him that morning to ask if I might be interested in
scoring a feature film project with a major director that was
already in the postproduction stage. Their composer had developed
health issues and had to back out, and big names in the field are
generally committed far into the future. Of course, my answer was
an emphatic, "Yes!" 

It was the opportunity of a lifetime. The job would not require
relocation since we had state of the art recording facilities and
strong musicians in town. However, I couldn't accept any other
work during the project, and some of my regular clients might not
be calling by the time it was completed. Turning down jobs would
let the competition in the door. On the other hand, if the film
did well, my career would take off. The base money for a feature
film project, after expenses, would surpass my annual income by
far. I doubted we would be able to negotiate royalties for my
first deal in the big leagues, but I didn't mind. It would be a
chance to show the industry what I could do.

When I picked Chelsea up from school, she could sense my
excitement and asked what it was about. After briefing her on the
offer and how big it could be for us financially, I cautioned her
that we couldn't count on it actually happening until a contract
was worked out and signed. Just receiving the inquiry was
exciting. What I didn't mention was that Hollywood is a fast
paced cut-throat environment, and someone on the inside might
have a relative or friend they would push for the job to squeeze
me out. We sat in the living room to discuss it further when we
got home. 

"Darlin, if I get the project, it would require long hours that
will limit our time together. Would you be okay with that?"

"I guess. How long would you, like, be working on it?"

"A normal movie about an hour and a half long should take about
two to four months to complete   depending on how many scenes
need music. If good ideas come to me easily and they like them, I
might get it done quicker. They send DVDs of scenes to work on
and share their vision with me of the completed project. I write
music I think fits what is going on in the story and my
understanding of what they want. Then I get it recorded and send
them the recordings. After they study them, we'll talk about it,
and maybe change some things and re-record, or start over on a
scene if an idea is rejected. It is a time consuming process but
there is big money involved."

"Can I, like, go to the studio with you sometimes?"

"Sure. It's a pretty boring process if you aren't involved in it,
but they have comfortable areas where you can sit and do
homework, read or even sleep. There will be interesting people
around to talk to sometimes, too. I'll do most of the writing
here, though."

"That would be okay."

"We will still be sleeping together and having fun when we can.
I'll make sure you get what you need for school and in your
social life and, of course I'll take care of my horny young
daughter," I said with a chuckle that got a beaming smile from
her. "But we might not be able to go out as much for
entertainment for a while."

"That's okay. I've been doing more fun stuff since I found you
again than, like, I've ever done. Can Amy come with us
sometimes?"

"We'll see. I could probably work something out with Charlene if
she is at Hope House. If Amy moves to a foster home, I would have
to speak with her guardians about it. Studio sessions can be
pretty long, and I'll need to schedule them around getting you to
school and back and other things you might need. Most of the
recording will be done after school into the evening or on
weekends."

"Okay. Well, I hope you get it 'cause I know you want to do it."

"Thanks, Darlin'. I really do." We embraced and kissed to confirm
our accord. 

I changed the subject to school, and she filled me in on her
classwork and the buzz among her peers. I was beginning to learn
some of the characters in her circles, but I didn't yet have
faces to put with any of them except Amy. Socially, the news of
the day was a popular couple that had broken up over the weekend
and some boys who were suspended for fighting. She said she would
need about three hours to get her homework done, so she found a
snack and got started on it.

<1st attachment end>


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