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Subject: {ASSM} Chemistry (Mf, ff, oral, anal) Chapters 13-15
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Date: Fri, 14 Dec 2012 06:10:04 -0500
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Please post.

-- 
  Scott St. Martz
  stmartz@fastmail.net

-- 
http://www.fastmail.fm - Or how I learned to stop worrying and
                          love email again

<1st attachment, "Chemistry 13-15.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 13   Life With My Nymphet

Tuesday morning I kept the appointment with my doctor. He was
understanding and bought my explanation that it was becoming more
frequent I couldn't get it up. Rather than prescribe a specific
brand, he offered free samples of both Viagra and Cialis   a
couple of four-packs of each. He told me to let his nurse know
once I determined a preference, and they would call in a
prescription for me.

We fell into a routine of sorts by the end of the week revolving
around school and work. I took care of business through the day
after dropping her off at school, picked her up at three, and
worked until dinner time. She took a short break after school and
then got as much homework done as she could. We pitched in to
prepare dinner when we didn't order it, and we ate and cleaned up
as a team. Then we got back to completing tasks on our individual
agendas. Whoever finished first would relax until we were both
free to spend what was left of the evening together. Laundry and
cleaning were worked into the flow. I also started my vitamin and
exercise regimen working daily power walks, calisthenics and
aerobics into my schedule. 

Her period ended Friday morning. She'd been moody during the
ordeal, and there were a couple of times she snapped at me, but
her reactions were mild compared to those of my ex-wife and older
daughter during their menses. I diddled her in the shower (the
only place she would let me), and she gave me a blowjob every day
but one when she was too tense. Her tender butt wasn't ready for
another assault yet, although she offered it to me Wednesday
night. Friday afternoon and evening she was horny, and we played
until I was exhausted and she was sated. We went without condoms
again knowing she was as safe as she could get. I was willing to
allow the day or two on either side of her period until we could
get her on birth control.

Saturday morning, after an inspection to insure that no damning
evidence was left around this time, we picked up Amy again. It
was another cold and rainy winter day, and the girls just wanted
to hang out together at the condo. We stopped for breakfast on
the way back, and I left them at home with instructions not to
leave while I grocery shopped and ran a few errands. After lunch,
they entertained themselves and I worked until it was time to
take Amy back. I learned she was moving to a foster home the
following day, so new arrangements would have to be made for them
to get together.

That night Chelsea told me as she was stroking my dick that she
and Amy had played in her room while I was out shopping. They got
each other off with the vibrator (brought along by Amy) and
licked each other to several orgasms. She said she wanted Amy to
keep the vibrator and asked if I could get her another one.
Actually, she asked if she could get a big one like a girl had
showed her at Hope House. I agreed to buy her a replacement like
the one she had while explaining that I didn't think it was a
good idea to buy her a full-sized toy. It was a selfish concern
and I told her so. Her tight orifices would only stay that way
for so long in life, and sex with me alone would stretch them out
in time. Large toys would only speed up that process. I told her
about a girlfriend I'd introduced to vibrators in my freshman
year of college who liked the big ones  one in her ass, another
in her pussy and a smaller one on her clit to get herself off
(which she did frequently). There was a noticeable difference in
her vagina through the year or so we dated. It was still snug on
entry but she loosened up more as we screwed. Her previously
tight ass became so slack by the end of the year that my
enjoyment of anal sex with her was significantly diminished. I
explained that, while anal play was fun, ass fucking was
something we should limit for the good of her long term health.
She suggested we save it for the times she was on her period, and
I agreed   knowing all too well that the whims of passion are
such that it might not work out that way.

The following Thursday the contract for the film project was
signed. I had a few pending jobs to finish up before I could
dedicate full attention to the big one, so my work load geared up
immediately. They wanted me to fly to Hollywood to meet with the
players on Saturday morning. My recent adoption of Chelsea was
explained along with the fact that I had no support network in
place for her yet, so they asked that I bring her along. When I
told her on the way home from school, she bubbled over with
excitement. She had never been on a plane before, and Hollywood
was a fantasyland in her mind.

We flew to Los Angeles Friday afternoon, took a cab from the
airport and checked in at the Beverly Hills Hilton. The studio
had booked the flight and a suite for us, and Chelsea was amazed
by the luxurious accommodations. It had been an arduous journey
with a change of planes in Dallas, so it was late   later yet by
our body clocks. We raided the mini-bar for snacks and drinks and
ate as she hinted that she was horny and needed attention. I had
taken a Cialis before we left home, so libido was not an issue  
fatigue was. We made love without much foreplay, using a hand
towel under her little ass to catch the drippings, before falling
asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning we got up early, ordered room service to save
time and showered together. I gave her an orgasm but declined her
offer to reciprocate because we were short on time. She
remembered to check for evidence and make her bed look slept in
so the staff wouldn't be suspicious before we left. Taking a cue
from her, I rinsed out the towel and hung it over the shower rod.
Then we ate breakfast in the room and then took a cab to the
studio.

After a brief meeting with the producer, the director and the
sound director shared their visions of the project with me,
explained what they wanted and gave me several initial scenes to
work on. Chelsea sat quietly through the meeting, listening to
what we were discussing, reading or playing her Game Boy with the
sound muted. Afterwards, I made it a point to praise her for
handling the situation so well. We finished up around lunch time,
and the four of us went out to eat.

Over a meal at one of the popular restaurants on the strip the
director was exuberant about Chelsea's beauty and sparkling
personality - telling her she might have a future as a screen
actress. He encouraged her to study acting, which she had never
really considered before, and appear in every school or local
production she could. She gracefully thanked him for the
compliments and told him she would think about it. Later she told
me she was flattered but didn't know if she was that interested
in acting. In school plays she had shown promise, but I wasn't
going to push it. Instead, we discussed the pros and cons of
staking one's future on an arts career (something I was very
familiar with). 

We went back to the hotel to drop off my briefcase and change
into casual clothes. Then I took her for a surprise visit to
Disneyland. I refused to tell her where we were going and, after
she jumped in the back of the cab, I surreptitiously advised the
driver where we were headed and asked him not to mention it. I
teased her, making her guess, until she saw the signs on the
expressway where we turned off. Chelsea was thrilled with the
experience, and she wore me out. The crowds weren't too bad; it
was February. She had been to Disney World in Orlando when she
was in kindergarten, but that was a different time and place. We
wandered all over the park and stayed on for the fireworks show
before closing. By the time we got back to the hotel, we were
bushed. I left a wake-up call, and we went to bed. The next
morning we flew out on the red-eye and arrived home in the
afternoon. 

Chelsea and I managed my extra work load well. I put more hours
in, but she seemed to understand and didn't complain. I kept up
with her life and made it a point to spend quality time with her
each day. In addition to commute times and meals, we spent the
last hour or two most evenings making love, watching television
or just talking and cuddling. Bed time was 10:00 on school
nights.

We met Amy's foster parents, April and Ed, who seemed nice
enough. Arrangements were made for the girls to ride the bus to
her house (they had kept her in the same school, too) or for Amy
to come home with us two or three times a week so they could
entertain each other. We shared the transportation duties. 

Our love life continued its spark, and I was in seventh heaven.
Power walks mostly went by the wayside with my extra work load
though I did daily calisthenics and aerobic routines during short
breaks or while working out a passage in my head. That, along
with the vitamins, a better diet, and steady sex had improved my
libido and stamina significantly   as well as my semen volume.
The pills came in handy when they ran low and Chelsea needed
attention. We settled into five or six lovemaking sessions most
weeks plus diddling her in the shower almost daily. I bought her
a replacement vibrator, and she took care of herself if I was too
busy. I cautioned her not to let her friend see it because it
would be difficult to explain how she got it, and she agreed to
use Amy's when they played together.  Their relationship helped
take the sexual pressure off of me, too. 

Having a stunning thirteen year-old nymphomaniac lover was
absolutely incredible   there is just no other way to put it.
Experiencing her tight juicy responsive pussy and fantastic blow
jobs on a regular basis and, on occasion, her shapely little ass,
too, was beyond my wildest dreams. The chemistry we shared made
it even better, as if we were truly soul mates who had found each
other. However, I'd known from the beginning that I wouldn't be
able to physically keep up with her for the long run, and I was
happy she had other safe outlets available for her ravenous
sexual appetites.

I put in additional time working when the girls were together at
either place. On the days they were with me, I tried to take time
out to spend with them playing a game or taking walks, and I
helped with homework questions when I knew the subject matter. We
also interacted as we rode along in the car or ate meals
together, but they kept each other busy for the most part. After
school they did their homework, watched TV, talked endlessly
about anything and everything, or played games. Of course, I
tried not to bother them when they were in Chelsea's room with
the door closed knowing they might be playing intimately. That
wasn't always the case, as I learned when Chelsea filled me in on
the details later.

About a month into my project, the sleepovers began. Once Amy
became acclimated to her new environment, her foster parents let
her invite Chelsea to stay there one Saturday night. The
following weekend, they allowed Amy to do the same at our place,
and it became a regular thing. 

The first night she spent with us I cooked a good meal and played
Scrabble with them. That time Amy won, although we put up a
pretty good fight. They both wore pajamas, such as they were  
loose t-shirts and soft cotton print pants. I caught a glimpse of
one of Amy's budding breastlets through her hanging neckline as
she stretched across the cocktail table reaching for the tile
bag, giving me an unexpected thrill. After the game, they watched
TV while I worked until they said goodnight and retired to
Chelsea's room around eleven. I was tired, too, so I shut down
the condo and prepared for bed. 

As I was waiting for sleep to overcome me, I reviewed the mental
image of Amy's little tit that was mostly a puffy cap with a
little padding beneath it. Her areola was light brown against her
pale skin with a relatively thick nipple about a quarter of an
inch long that looked out of place on her small pooch of a
breast; it was more like a grown woman's and I envisioned what it
would look like hard. The last image in my mind as I drifted off
was of Chelsea with that swollen nipple in her mouth.

I'm not sure how long it was after I fell asleep that a naked
Chelsea awakened me with a kiss tasting of clean young pussy that
wasn't her flavor. I was instantly alert. As we broke the kiss,
she whispered that Amy was sleeping and she wanted me to know how
good she tasted. It had a distinctly different piquancy just as
sweet and tangy as hers. Her friend had fallen asleep with
Chelsea's finger nestled between her labia so, on top of the
lingering effects from eating her out, she had wiped Amy's fresh
juices on her lips as she snuck down the hall to see me. She
slipped that finger into my mouth for an even better sample as
she told me this. It was clear my little nympho had a knack for
the erotic. The sensual charge of what she had done was
scintillating and my dick immediately reacted, as she learned
with a searching hand. She grabbed a rubber, flipped off the
covers, rolled it into place and climbed on for a ride. It didn't
take long for us to explode together. We kept our coupling and
finish as silent as we could so we wouldn't awaken Amy. I noticed
that my door was left open and hoped that Amy didn't venture out
of Chelsea's room. Then she kissed me goodnight and tip toed to
the hall bathroom to clean-up. She flushed the toilet there and
returned to bed with a reason for having left.

The following morning I relived the taste of Amy and envisioned
her nascent breast in my mind each time I saw her. The fact that
she didn't know made it all the more exciting. When we returned
from dropping her off around noon, Chelsea and I stripped as soon
as we walked in the door and rutted like rabbits on the living
room couch. The sexually charged experience of the night before
had stuck with us, and pent up passions demanded release. 

As we cuddled afterwards, we talked about Amy. Chelsea said her
friend was anxious to know what it felt like to have something
inside her pussy. They talked about breaking her hymen with a
tampon or the vibrator, but Amy wanted to keep her promise to her
Dad and declined. She'd never had a boyfriend. She was younger
for having skipped a grade, and she wasn't as developed as other
girls in seventh grade. The few young studs at school bold enough
to approach girls treated her as a pretty nerd to tease rather
than an attractive female to pursue. Amy's earlier experiences
with her uncle had also instilled in her an appreciation for
adult males, and boys weren't as interesting to her. Chelsea said
she had a crush on me, which I had suspected at times from
flirtatious comments she made and the way she looked at me. 

Once again the subject of bringing Amy into the secret side of
our relationship was raised. After reassuring me that nothing had
been said about it, Chelsea said, "You know, Sean, I don't think
she would ever, um, tell anyone."

"Why do you think that, Darlin'? She told you about her uncle."

"Yeah, but she never told the investigators or lawyers that,
like, talked to her after he was arrested. She said one of them
acted like he already knew about, um, them doing stuff, and he
pushed her real hard. She still didn't tell. Her uncle never took
any, like, naked pictures of her, so they couldn't prove it."

"I don't know, Chelsea. It's still dangerous, and I can barely
keep up with you. What would I do with another little insatiable
nympho?" I added with a chuckle. 

She laughed and smacked my arm as I continued, "Why do you want
this, Darlin'?"

"Because, like, Amy is my BFF, and I want her to be happy, too.
She really misses doing stuff with her uncle, um, and she really
likes you. I know she would want to do it. It would be lots of
fun for me, too, and I'm sure Brock would like her." She gave my
dick a little squeeze to emphasize her point.

 "Wouldn't it bother you if I had sex with Amy?"

"No... I know you would still love me more. Come on, Sean,
wouldn't it be fun?"

"You're right, Darlin'. I love you more than anything and nothing
will change that. I still don't think it's a good idea, though. I
just can't take that kind of chance."

"Okay," she conceded rather dejectedly.

Following her second menstrual period as my child, I took Chelsea
to a gynecologist for a check-up. She complained of severe cramps
as we had discussed, and the doctor took me aside to ask if I had
an objection to birth control medication to help her. Of course I
didn't, and she wrote the prescription. It would be a month
before we could forget the condoms, but at least we were headed
in that direction. During the exam when I was out of the room,
the doctor asked Chelsea if she was sexually active noting that
her hymen was gone. She replied that a girlfriend broke it for
her with a tampon and added that she hadn't done anything with a
boy yet.

I scheduled time off to spend with my girls when they came in for
Easter. They didn't have a full week off, but we were able to
spend five days with them. Chelsea and Britney got along like
they had never been separated and caught up with each other's
lives fairly quickly. They slept together and Rachel had her own
room, of course. We went shopping, ate out a couple of nights and
just enjoyed their company. Amy slept over two of the nights,
too, so I had four young girls in the condo then. I managed to
get a little writing done while they entertained each other, but
the noise levels were so distracting that I mostly spent time
with them. All in all, we had a great time. Chelsea told me
afterwards she and Amy had behaved themselves and didn't try to
involve Britney in their sex play. 

When we returned from seeing the girls off, Chelsea was the
horniest I'd seen her in a long time. It had been over five days
since she'd had any, and she attacked me with a passionate kiss
when we shut the door. Clothes hit the floor as we worked our way
to my room, and we didn't bother with foreplay. She told me she
wanted it fast as she jumped on the bed and scooted to the edge
on her knees with her ass in the air and her back arched low
presenting me with a wet target. I rolled on a condom (the
waiting period hadn't ended), nudged the head into place, and
grabbed her by the hips to slide it home. Her pussy was seeping
before I even touched her and the rubber was lubed, so there was
no friction. We immediately fell into a fast paced ramming fuck
with my balls rhythmically smacking her clit until she muffled a
scream into the pillow and came hard. Her tight vagina muscled a
toe-curling cum out of me with powerful rippling contractions as
she came. When I recovered, we took our time and made sweet
passionate love in various positions for hours   with breaks
between my orgasms - until she was sated and I collapsed in
exhaustion. She came more times than we could count, and I had
four orgasms in a day for the first time since I was in my
twenties. The exercise, diet and vitamin regimens were apparently
paying off.
 
The advance from the movie project was enough to put a
substantial amount down on a four bedroom three bath home so I
could keep the payments within my normal budget. I sold the condo
on a ninety day contingency contract inspiring me to put more
energy into the search. I house hunted when time allowed and took
Chelsea with me once I narrowed down the possibilities. We found
a place we liked in a ten year-old suburb that was in the
strongest school district and on the same side of town where a
new recording studio was located that was becoming a favorite. A
major mall, grocery stores, restaurants and other conveniences
were all within a few miles. I signed a contract and, if things
went as expected, we would close on it in June. The u-shaped
floor plan around the pool had a central common area containing
the living room, formal dining area, kitchen and dinette, a half
bath and the den (my office/studio). The master bedroom suite ran
back along the left side of the house behind the garage, and the
bedroom wing did the same on the opposite side behind the den. As
is typical in a pool home, there were doors opening onto the
patio from the master bath and the hall bathroom on the other
side in addition to a glass sliding door from the living area
between the dining space and the kitchen. It had a large kitchen
with custom cabinets, granite counter tops and an island to
prepare food on with enough overhang on one side to use bar
stools for seating. The dinette was in an alcove with bay windows
overlooking the patio, pool and fenced back yard. 

As it turned out, Amy's foster family was moving that summer,
too, and they chose a neighborhood within bike riding distance of
the house we were buying. The girls were thrilled and thought it
very lucky that they would still be in the same school and live
even closer together than they had.

Chelsea continued asking for lessons and practicing guitar. She
had an aptitude for it, and she was writing her own simple songs
by the time school ended. I was coaching her on voice, too, and
found her senses of pitch and rhythm were very strong. We started
learning some duets with her taking the lead and me singing the
harmonies and background vocals as well as filling in with guitar
licks over her chords. We had a great time playing music
together, and did it whenever we could find the time. I
considered recording us once my movie project was over. More
rehearsal than I had time for would be necessary to get a song or
two ready for the studio at that stage. I'd learned long before
that errors on a recording are glaringly obvious to the musicians
involved, and they have to live with them. Cleaning them up by
over-editing ruins the feel of a piece and makes it sound
mechanical. I wanted her first recording to be as clean and
musical as possible.

Work and life in general flowed fairly smoothly for us. The
Paramount folks seemed happy with my product and didn't require
many revisions. Film scoring is a very precise process. If a
scene was one minute and nineteen point seven seconds long, I
wrote music that fit the action and recorded it for that exact
time span. Studio sessions took place during school, at night or
on the weekends. Chelsea came with me, and she was a big hit
among the studio guys and musicians. She did her homework or
amused herself when she wasn't in the sound booth with me taking
in all she could learn about the process or chatting with people
who weren't busy at the moment. There is plenty of dead time
during stages of recording while engineers set up or switch out
microphones, check sound levels or deal with equipment issues. I
used those times to explain to her what was going on, help with
questions on her homework or otherwise interact with her. 

Recording the tracks was Chelsea's favorite part, and she sat
quietly and listened as we ran multiple takes to get what we
wanted from the musicians. I filled in unusual instrument parts
with a midi keyboard. Once we had the raw recordings, the
musicians left and the mixing began, which can be really boring
if you aren't involved. It entails tweaking the sound of each
instrument, digitally editing minor errors the musicians may have
made such as being a hair off of the beat or pitch on a note,
adding effects, and finding the right balance between the
instruments in each phrase. A short clip less than ninety seconds
in length took almost six hours to mix down while each measure
was reviewed note by note countless times. Chelsea was sleeping
on one of the couches in the lounge by the time we finished up
some nights, and I had to wake her up to leave. During the week I
tried to schedule shorter sessions, but there were times they ran
late.

Life with my child lover wasn't always a fairytale; it was real
life. I had my moods and so did she. Minor illnesses cropped up
as did spats with her peers at school or issues with teachers.
She and Amy were academically competitive and she didn't take it
well when her friend did better than her on a grade. They never
really fought but tensions arose between them from perceived
slights.  There were days my roles as father and lover were in
conflict and friction arose between us, too. As mature as she was
for her age, she was still an evolving neophyte at life. Kids her
age are supposed to spread their wings testing the currents of
social interaction and adult freedoms and responsibilities, and
she was no different in that respect. She experimented with
multiple ways of looking at things and handling conflicts with
others as all teens do, and she required parental guidance. I'd
found that kids need to learn through mistakes they make along
the way, and I gave her a long leash most of the time.
Fortunately, she openly shared her world with me and readily
sought my advice more often than not, so I was able to gently
point her in the right direction and let her fly. But there were
times I had to put my foot down when she slipped into
inappropriate behaviors, attitudes, or language - or stretched
the limits of her freedom too far. It was difficult because she
was also my lover, and she got pissy when I evoked parental
authority. We couldn't stay mad at each other, though. The bond
we shared was such that our souls fed off of each other's
presence and touch. Apologies were given and accepted, and she
usually learned the life lessons I felt compelled to teach her.
We always made love in the end to put our differences behind us.

When the requisite waiting period for Chelsea's birth control
pills to kick in was over, we spent a weekend in the condo
without dressing once. Amy was out of town with her foster family
for a planned get away, and I was ahead of schedule in a writing
phase of the movie project with no studio time scheduled that
weekend. We shopped for groceries on the way home from school on
Friday and began with a sensual shower as soon as everything was
put away. From then on, the weekend became a sexual marathon
enjoying our freedom from condoms. 

I was fine Friday night and took a weekender Cialis on Saturday
morning to keep my libido up. We exhausted our repertoire of
favorite positions and sexual activities and filled the time
between making love or sport fucking playing board games,
watching TV, practicing our duets, cooking and eating meals or
doing chores together. There were times when she was chatting
with Amy or other friends on the phone or doing homework when I
tried to work, but we stuck to our goal of going all weekend
without leaving the condo or putting clothes on. I found that
working in the nude wasn't as weird as I had thought as long as I
didn't have to speak with business associates on the phone.

On Saturday night we explored variations from the Kama Sutra
looking for something new, most of which just didn't work for us.
There was one that was a little awkward to get into, but fun, we
called "upside down doggie". We tried and enjoyed it enough that
we agreed we would do it again from time to time. To get into it,
she laid on her back with her legs drawn back and spread holding
her knees to her sides with her compact pussy tilted up. I
straddled her on my knees facing the foot of the bed with my butt
resting lightly on the backs of her thighs. Then I bent forward
and pointed my dick straight down to enter her extremely snug
sheath while easing my knees along her sides towards her head to
seat it - until my legs were almost extended. Our heads were at
opposite ends of the bed. My weight was supported by knees and
elbows to avoid hurting her, and we began thrusting. Her snapper
pussy began doing its sucking thing within a minute as she rocked
her pelvis in rhythm meeting my strokes. I lifted my belly to
view our extremely erotic junction, watching my dick spearing her
canal from that angle, and it occurred to me that its underside
was riding up and down across her clit with each stroke. I was
rigid from the Cialis and she came repeatedly as we fucked, but
I'd cum so much by then that it was tough to get another nut out
of me. When I tired of the position, we managed to roll over into
a reverse cowgirl position without pulling apart   laughing as we
did - and she rode me hard like that until we came together. Done
for the night, we soaked in a bubble bath to soothe our sore
muscles and genitals before falling asleep. I'd come five times
before the day was over   once in her ass - on top of three
orgasms the night before. The Cialis helped with the hard-on and
stamina, but didn't provide vitality. The vitamins and exercise
had done that part.

By Sunday morning Chelsea's pussy and ass were too sore for sex
to interest her, and I was anything but horny even though my dick
was still ready to respond. My nuts were sore, too. We took some
Motrin and stayed naked anyway, finding other ways to entertain
ourselves through the day and cuddling together for an afternoon
nap. That night we lazily made love spooning together at her
request, caressing each other and gently stroking for a long time
until I finally came. Of course, her trigger had been firing for
a long while by then. We fell asleep that night with my dick
still semi-hard inside of her. The next morning, she needed more
Motrin before school but commented that she was completely
satisfied sexually. 

Amy came to the studio with us when she was sleeping over. She
was enthralled with the equipment and the process, and she soaked
it in with her fertile young mind. She continued to flirt with
me, and there were times I caught her staring at me with dreamy
eyes before she quickly averted them. 

The two of them were a unit. When they weren't together, they
chatted on the phone or on AIM. Chelsea's grades were great; she
was back to straight A's on her report card, so I encouraged
their friendship and let them do their thing within the limits of
safety and propriety.

One Sunday morning after a sleepover I was treated to a dj vu
experience. It was late May and the girls' pj bottoms had given
way to sleeping in just oversized t-shirts and panties   at least
most of the time when they were with me. I had also noticed a
lack of panty lines on a few occasions. I was sitting at the
breakfast table with the kitchen to my back, Chelsea to my right
and Amy across from me as we leisurely talked and ate pancakes.
When she finished, the little brunette leaned back, lifted her
legs to hang her heels on the edge of the chair with her knees
together, capped by her t-shirt, and her ankles spread wide
forming an "A" shape. I glanced down through the glass table top
and saw her naked little pussy peeking out a few inches below the
hem of her t-shirt. Her position was such that I could just see a
sparse patch of short brown pubic hair above and her closed slit
framed by puffy labia below. I was instantly taken back to
studying Chelsea's pussy in a similar manner months before, and
thought to myself that glass table tops are a good thing around
girls. The place mats, the glare she had from the light in the
kitchen and her lower angle of view were the same. Like I had
done the first time, I stole looks at Amy's treasure while the
girls chatted. When Chelsea quipped something that had a double
meaning for them, Amy swung her right knee wide as she leaned
towards Chelsea to respond   providing me with a more open view.
Her slit was still sealed, but her prominent clitoral hood and
inner labia extending past the larger twins were clearer. Like
her nipples, the hood of her clit seemed out of proportion to her
tiny pussy. Her outer labia were mostly bare but I thought I
could make out three or four randomly spaced hairs just beginning
to sprout on them. The patch on her mons was thicker   not by
much - but very short and lying flat against her skin. As they
got up from the table, Chelsea noticed where my eyes had been
focused and I caught that familiar mischievous gleam telling me
she knew what I'd seen. It was my turn to do the dishes and Amy
announced that she had to pee and wanted to shower as she headed
for the bathroom. Once the door closed, Chelsea turned me and
asked in a quiet voice, "Doesn't she have a pretty coochie,
Sean?"

I must have looked a bit guilty as I responded in a projected
whisper, "She sure does, Darlin'! That was a nice little treat."

"It's so awesome that you got to see it... and it looks like
Brock liked it, too." The bulge in my shorts was a dead giveaway.
We heard the shower start, and she took my hand and led me to our
room where she dropped to her knees, yanked down my shorts and
applied her oral skills to sucking and swallowing a load from my
heavily laden testicles. Then she washed her face and brushed her
teeth so her friend wouldn't catch my musky smell on her. The
image of Amy's petite pussy floated to conscious awareness
frequently through the following weeks.

School ended in late May and the sleepovers increased in
frequency. After a week I was already hearing the grumblings of
summer boredom from them. Amy's foster parents and I had
coordinated a two week theater day camp so we could carpool, but
it didn't begin until the first week of July. I wanted to get
moved before starting Chelsea's piano and art lessons. The girls
entertained themselves as best they could in the meantime. My
daughter and I were still able to find plenty of private time,
and our love life was flourishing. 

Chapter 14   New Surroundings

At the beginning of June the movie project was completed.
Paramount's large final check arrived and included a performance
bonus - along with a thank you letter with assurances that they
would keep me in mind for future films. I was looking forward to
seeing my name in the credits at a local theater. They spin by so
quickly you would have to be a speed reader to catch the
composer's name unless you already knew it was there, but the
industry would know. If they liked the work, I'd be real busy. I
thought it came out pretty well and Paramount seemed happy, so I
was looking forward to doing other projects.

We simultaneously closed on the sale of the condo and the
purchase of the house on the tenth of June. I had arranged for a
week to move out of the condo, but we got it done in two days
including cleaning with the help of a local moving company and a
maid service. Our new house had been left clean, too. However, it
needed work to make it feel like a home. A few rooms had to be
painted and several window treatments taken by the previous
owners for some reason, along with some that were worn or not my
style, needed to be replaced. Areas of the hardwood floors
required attention, too. In addition, we needed all of the things
for a big house that weren't necessary at a condo like yard and
pool care equipment and supplies, garbage cans, patio furniture
and a formal dining room set among other things. I arranged for a
new bedroom set for Chelsea to be delivered on closing day rather
than have to move Britney's again. 

Chelsea and Amy, who helped through moving day and was sleeping
over, were anxious to get into the pool on the first night in our
new home. Once the movers were gone and we had the house situated
enough to get through the night, they donned colorful two piece
bathing suits accenting their coltish figures and jumped in. I
fixed myself a cocktail and joined them for a few laps to cool
off before sitting on the side on to watch while sipping my
drink. The summer sun was setting, and I noticed the pool light
was on and wondered why. Like the kids they were, they chased
each other around in the water, splashed me, and begged me to let
them dive off of my shoulder. I complied, letting them have
several turns each. I lowered myself in the water while they
climbed on my shoulders to sit as I stood up. Then I helped them
balance as they got their feet under them and rose to dive   or
fall   off. Their warm little twats pressed against the back of
my neck got me hard, as Chelsea learned by grasping it under the
water when Amy was swimming away from us once. When the game
ended, I swam another two laps to let it recede before going back
to my drink. Watching them play and soaking in their joy was a
great way to wind down a busy day. 

They were both competent swimmers, so I went in to order pizza
and left them on their own. When I started to walk back out, I
noticed through the dining area window that they were standing
face to face in water up to their little boobs and, from the
position and movement of their arms, I surmised that they were
stroking each other's pussies. Rather than disturb their intimate
moment, I backed off and busied myself inside until the pizza
came. They were splashing each other again by then, so it was no
longer an issue. 

We ate pizza and drank ginger ale picnic style on towels spread
on the patio. The girls were facing the pool, and I was seated
across from them leaning against a support column for the roof.
The last daylight faded, and the pool light and a couple on in
the house took over. I tried to be civil and not stare, but my
eyes kept drifting to the gussets of their swimsuits in the faint
light as they ate sitting Indian style. The wet material outlined
the features of their genitals. I knew my daughter's pussy well,
but the comparisons were interesting. Chelsea's was wider and had
more padding on the labia while Amy's was narrower with flatter
labia and a pronounced mons. I didn't know why, but the tendons
at the top of her slender inner thighs pointing to her crotch
were a turn-on. "How many times have I seen that in my life
without thinking anything of it?" The gusset of Amy's suit
teasingly opened a bit at the leg holes when she leaned forward
to get another slice, though all I could see from my angle were
darker shadows defining the gap between material and flesh. 

The girls wanted to swim again, but I told them they had to wait
thirty minutes after eating. There was lightning on the horizon
that appeared to be headed our way, too, so they reluctantly went
in to change out of their wet suits while I straightened up the
mess on the patio, turned off the pool light and paused for a
moment in the darkness to watch the approaching storm. The lamp
came on in Chelsea's room a minute or two later; it was the first
one off the hallway. Hers was one of the windows that needed
curtains and at least a sheet for the meantime even though it
wasn't within sight of neighbors. Chelsea was to the left mostly
viewed from the rear while Amy was facing me at an angle to the
right as they dropped their towels. They had removed their suits
in the bathroom and were completely naked beneath. I felt like a
voyeur, which I'll admit I was at the moment, as I admired Amy's
slender twelve year-old body exposed in its full glory. Her
breasts had grown; Chelsea told me she had graduated from a
training bra to a loose A-cup. She had mini-breasts shaped like
the narrow end of a pear with relatively large puffy light brown
areolas and those thick nipples I had noted before, hardened by
the coolness of the air inside. Her slender hips were a bit wider
than her waist but not much, and her pubic hair was confined to a
sparse vertical triangular patch about two inches wide on her
bulging mons. The narrow gap between the tops of her thighs held
pooching and apparently bare labia when seen from that distance.
The girls were chatting away without a clue they were being
watched as they selected t-shirts from Chelsea's suitcase on the
floor. My daughter's familiar naked form took on a new light when
seen that way, and I admired her narrow feminine back and
beautiful little rear end. It was over much too quickly as they
slipped on oversized t-shirts. My view of Amy's pretty little
body ended as hers dropped like a curtain to her knees as she
wiggled it into place.

When they turned off the light and opened the door, I went in
through the master bath so I wouldn't have to deal with them
seeing the stiff rod occupying my bathing suit. I rejected the
thought of beating off and just threw on some gym shorts and a
t-shirt. By the time I re-wet and combed my hair, it was no
longer an issue. 

I met the girls in the living room where they had tuned in a teen
sit-com. Joining them on the couch, I couldn't escape the vision
of their naked bodies under those shirts, and little Sean began
reacting again. I forced myself to focus on the show and their
conversation for a few minutes before heading to the kitchen to
make popcorn, fix myself a drink and pour glasses of sweet iced
tea for them. When I returned to sit with them, I noticed Amy
stealing looks at the leg hole in my shorts and realized my
equipment was partially exposed since I wasn't wearing underwear.
I debated for a few seconds whether to change positions to cover
myself, stay as I was or maybe shift some to provide her with a
better view. I erred on the side of caution and casually crossed
by legs as if I hadn't noticed.

It had been a long day and, after an hour or so, I announced I
was going to bed. I locked up the house and left them to their TV
programs. Sleep didn't come easily that night; I was fatigued but
wired. I laid there thinking of the house, work, and other
issues, but visions of them naked dominated my thoughts as I
tossed and turned. 
 
I heard them turn off the TV followed by fading voices as they
headed to Chelsea's room. About thirty minutes later, I gave up
on sleep. My racing mind wouldn't settle, and I decided I needed
a nightcap. I fixed myself a scotch on the rocks using the
nightlight Chelsea had wanted in there. Then I took a chair from
the dinette and went out on the patio to enjoy the summer
evening. The storm on the horizon earlier never reached us, and
it was a moonless night full of stars. The lamp was on again in
Chelsea's room and the girls were on her bed in their t-shirts
talking. Amy was stretched out on her side with her back to me
and her head propped on her elbow, and Chelsea was facing her and
mirroring her position a foot or two away. 

I studied the back yard as I sipped the soothing elixir and took
in our new environment. The lot was a hundred and twenty feet
wide and the yard extended beyond the patio by about an equal
distance to the property line. The rear of the house had a
southeast exposure that would keep it bright in the mornings and
warm the pool. The first twenty feet of the patio was under a
roof for shade, and it had three large Casablanca ceiling fans to
circulate the air. The kidney shaped pool was in the open sun ten
feet beyond the roof line. There was a screened enclosure over
the pool and patio area that would keep out the bugs as well as
help prevent soiling the water with leaves or litter carried on
winds. One of the deciding factors in choosing the house had been
the privacy afforded in the rear by its u-shaped design
surrounding the pool and healthy fifteen foot clumping bamboo and
pampas grass in alternating patterns spaced along the perimeter
fence line as natural barriers. Chelsea and I could skinny dip
back there, which I was sure we would be doing in the near
future.

When I next glanced towards her window, the girls were in the
same positions but looking into each other's eyes with free hands
stroking the other. It appeared they might be getting something
started. The room was set up with the bed perpendicular to my
view with its white headboard centered on the wall to the left
from my perspective. The lamp on the nightstand beside it
lighting the scene was in the near corner blocked from sight by a
two foot span of wall. I had a view of the whole bed that wasn't
obstructed by the lamp's glare, and it was positioned closer to
me illuminating the girls. They leaned in for a kiss with their
hands gently caressing the other. When it broke, something was
said and they giggled. Then they nonchalantly sat up to shed
their t-shirts, stretching to pull them over their heads and
tossing them aside leaving them naked as they embraced again. I
stood, turned my chair for a more comfortable view and dropped my
shorts. As an afterthought, I grabbed a towel I'd left hanging on
the handrail to the pool ladder and draped it over the seat of
the chair before sitting to watch the show. I was in the dark
less than fifteen feet from the window, but they couldn't see me
if they happened to look out.

Chelsea rolled onto her back as Amy bent to take her nearest
nipple between her lips. I couldn't see much because Amy was
turned away from me blocking the action, but it was obvious what
was happening. Her right hand then slid down Chelsea's body to
cup and massage her pussy. In order to reach the further nipple,
Amy rose to her knees with her cute little bare ass elevated
while continuing the stimulation of Chelsea's responsive twat
with her hand. It appeared she was working a finger or two into
her. I slowly stroked my dick as I studied Amy's anatomy. Her
small butt cheeks of about a handful each had slight hollows, and
her inner labia extended beyond her closed lips   "hangers" is
what a college buddy of mine used to call them. Recalling her
sweet and spicy taste, I found myself wishing I was the one who
would soon be sucking and teasing those soft appendages. 

Amy's knees were only a few inches apart until I saw Chelsea's
hand appear between them and slide up the inside of her left
thigh. That knee shifted farther left to provide access as
extended fingers found their target and rubbed and teased her
swollen labia for a minute or two before a single finger wormed
between them to explore the hidden treasures within. No attempt
was made to penetrate her. Chelsea's hand mostly obscured my
view, but Amy's light brown rosebud, identical in color to her
areolas, was plainly visible. Then Chelsea tugged at the inside
of Amy's thigh signaling her to swing into position. This was a
two-step process: she scooted a little to her left to get her
right knee closer to Chelsea's shoulder before lifting her left
leg to swing it over as she pivoted her body. Her pussy lips
opened wide in the full light of the lamp during the process
providing me with a momentary glimpse of the tiny dark shadow of
her vaginal entrance surrounded by shiny pink flesh. The size of
her clitoral hood struck me again, and I tried to imagine the
clit it protected as I increased the tempo of my stroke. 

Watching them in a sixty-nine from the side wasn't the best
angle. Chelsea's legs were folded back tipping her pussy up to
Amy's teasing tongue, and my daughter's hands cupped and stroked
her friend's ass cheeks as she feasted on her. I was fascinated
as they squirmed with heads bobbing and rolling pleasuring each
other. I caught only occasional fleeting flashes of extended
tongues on tender flesh, but Chelsea tugged on Amy's hangers with
her lips stretching them far enough for me to discern what she
was doing. Amy appeared to reach her peak first, which surprised
me. As it approached, she rose almost straight up to grind her
pussy into Chelsea's face while squeezing and tugging her turgid
plump nipples with both hands. Her eyes were closed and her
little head swayed until she seized up and squatted hard on my
teen lover's mouth while a shuddering release overcame her  
making me wonder for a second if Chelsea was being smothered. I
knew from experience that wasn't the case. The expression of
wanton abandon on her pixie face as she came took me over the
edge. My cock erupted and I squirted four shots on the concrete
patio and towel before the rest pulsed and dribbled across my
hand. It was soon over, and Amy dropped back into position to
hungrily devour her friend's pussy until she came, too.  

I cleaned up and continued ogling those sexy little creatures
from the dark. Chelsea said something and they clinched each
other's legs and giggled as they rolled to reverse positions.
Then they went at each other again until they both came a second
or maybe a third time. Then Amy climbed off and turned around so
they could embrace, cuddle and kiss. She dismounted in the
opposite direction then, denying me another look at her open
pussy. As they kissed, she crossed over Chelsea with their
breasts brushing to what I assumed was her side of the bed. The
last thing I saw was Amy sitting up and leaning over   brightly
illuminating her delightful mini-breasts - as she reached for the
switch on the lamp out of my view. Apparently, they slept naked.


I sat there for another ten minutes finishing my drink while
mentally reviewing the erotic scene I'd been fortunate enough to
observe. The scotch and the orgasm had done the trick, so I
returned to bed taking the chair and towel inside with me.

The next morning, we had a simple breakfast standing around the
island in the kitchen; the dinette table was cluttered with boxes
and kitchen goods. We ate cereal served in Styrofoam bowls with
toast, orange juice for them and instant coffee for me. The girls
unpacked the kitchen and got it squared away after I explained
how I wanted it organized. Meanwhile, I worked on boxes in the
living room and my office. They were still wearing their
t-shirts, and I was treated to teasing glimpses of young flesh as
the morning progressed. I wondered if Chelsea had orchestrated
that and decided to ask her later.

When they finished with the kitchen, the girls swam again until
lunch time. After we ate, April picked Amy up because they had
plans with her. Chelsea and I kept working on the house through
the afternoon. There was plenty to do, but we had a pretty good
handle on it by supper time. I was proud to see that she hung in
there with me without complaint. We swung through KFC to pick up
a quick meal and ate at the dinette table.

After supper we watched TV until it was dark outside. When I
suggested skinny dipping, my little darlin' squealed in delight,
excitedly stripped where we were and ran to the pool to dive in.
I wasn't in as much of a hurry. I retrieved clean towels from the
master bath, stripped down and joined her. We swam and played for
a while before she straddled my lap on the concrete steps to make
love. I knew from past experience that screwing in the water
isn't all it's cracked up to be; natural lubricants are washed
away with each stroke. It occurred to me that shorter strokes
keeping her tight juicy pussy sealed around my dick would work
best, and we had fun and got off. As we cuddled in the aftermath
with my dick still inside her, I shared my story about the show
she and Amy had unwittingly given me the night before. Chelsea
was thrilled that I got to see them together, and talking about
it stoked her horniness.

We dried off and went inside for the second round, which was less
needy and more relaxed and loving. We got her juices flowing and
me hard again, and we made love in several positions before I
came deep inside of her. Her orgasms were never an issue; she
came easily and often. I later asked her about the two of them
teasing me in t-shirts without panties, which seemed to be
happening more frequently. She replied that it was Amy's idea;
she thought it was sexy and liked seeing my eyes light up when I
caught a glimpse of something. They seldom went out of their way
to flash me, but they were aware when it happened most of the
time and tried to act innocent. Then she mentioned that Amy had
been excited the previous night because she saw the head of my
dick through the leg hole in my shorts, and I explained my side
of the story. Chelsea thought I should have let her keep looking
or exposed more. Once again she assured me that Amy knew nothing
about our love life.

The early summer seemed to fly by. Painters came in, draperies
and blinds were hung, and patio and dining room furniture were
delivered. Chelsea started her half hour piano lessons and Amy
joined her in a drawing class that met one afternoon a week. I
bought a used Roland keyboard in good condition for Chelsea's
room. It had weighted keys to strengthen her finger and hand
muscles, and it simulated the feel and dynamics of a real piano
hitting a key harder would produce a louder note. She had both
guitar and piano to practice then, as well as art, to fill time
in the summer doldrums of boredom. I was busier than ever with my
career; word had gotten around about the Paramount deal, raising
my profile in the market and allowing me to demand higher
commissions.

Amy moved to the next subdivision over at the end of June, and
traveling between neighborhoods didn't require the use of a
thoroughfare. I bought a bike for Chelsea (Amy already had one),
so they could wander back and forth unassisted or just go out
riding for fun. The sleepovers continued and I caught other
momentary flashes of Amy's charms as she teased me, although
watching her engaged in sex play with Chelsea turned out to be a
one-time thing.

The girls attended their theater camp in July and seemed to have
fun with it. I know April, Ed and I enjoyed the production of
"Fiddler on a Roof" they put on at the end. Chelsea had the part
of the older daughter, Tzeitel, and Amy played her sister, Hodel.
I thought they both did very well with their parts, particularly
with the vocals.

My love life was more fulfilling than it had ever been. Exercise,
vitamins and steady sex had revitalized my libido to the levels
of ten years before. I never tired of my teen lover's tantalizing
body and skills, though she still wore me out more often than
not, and I delighted in her company. We were meant for each
other; our mutual energy flourished and our love grew even
deeper.

Chapter 15 - Sunset

My daughters arrived towards the end of July for a month-long
visit. School started after Labor Day where they lived, and we
had planned it that way so I could spend time with just the two
of them once Chelsea started school in mid-August. They loved the
new house   especially the pool - and they set about unpacking
and organizing their bedrooms while Chelsea and I helped. We
hadn't set their rooms up when we moved; we just had their
furnishings and boxed belongings moved into them and closed the
doors.

Their presence put a crimp in our love life, but we found ways to
sneak in time together. Rachel had her driver's license, and I
gave her a map and showed her the way around so they could go if
I didn't need the car. They both had cell phones, too, so we
could keep in touch. She and Britney spent time with friends in
the old neighborhood and even slept over once giving us an
evening alone. Chelsea often accompanied them but begged off when
she could to spend time with me. Ours was a big house, too, and
Chelsea snuck into my room late at night when Amy wasn't over and
her horniness peaked. It was chancy, but my daughters were fairly
sound sleepers and their rooms were the last two on the opposite
wing, so I allowed it and they never caught on.

On the fifth of August, Amy arrived early to spend the night with
the girls again. The four of them were tanning together on the
patio that afternoon when Chelsea brought their attention to
uncontrollable twitches and tremors in her left leg. They all
laughed and had fun with it. It only lasted a minute or so and
didn't hurt her. My thoughts when they told me were that it was
just one of those strange passing afflictions or something caused
by a temporarily pinched nerve. When the twitches returned at
about nine that night and again around four in the morning   I
was awakened by Amy for the latter - we decided to get her to the
doctor when they opened to have it checked out. 

After a long wait, my GP examined Chelsea and asked a number of
questions. Then he called a neurologist, Dr. Weinstein, who
worked her into his schedule that afternoon. He examined her
again, had some blood drawn and ordered a CT scan of her brain
for the next morning. The symptoms occurred again while we were
there, and he examined the leg as it twitched with a serious
expression on his face. He gave us a form and asked that we chart
the attacks. The painless episodes came every four to six hours
that day but lasted less than two minutes. We were all a bit
worried about it, but it didn't seem like such a big deal at the
time. Amy slept over again that night, and it happened twice
after they retired.

I took Chelsea to the imaging center for the CT scan as
scheduled, and we returned home. Amy and my other daughters had
stayed behind, as it wasn't expected to take long and they were
old enough to take care of themselves   especially with Rachel
there. The girls wanted to go shopping at the mall that day, but
we couldn't predict the attacks and I thought it best Chelsea
stay home until they figured out what her problem was. Rachel and
Britney left, and the other two kept themselves entertained while
I worked   the pool was the focal point of their day. Amy took
charge of the stop watch, timed the attacks and called me on
Chelsea's cell when one started. The time spacing or intensity
hadn't changed much, but they lasted a little longer than the day
before. That afternoon Dr. Weinstein's office called and asked if
we could bring her in the next morning for a repeat scan. When I
asked why they needed it, the assistant was vague and mumbled
something about the doctor needing a clearer image.

Before we reached home after the second scan, the doctor's office
called again to ask if I could meet Dr. Weinstein at his office
as soon as possible   "just drop by and we'll work you in". I
called the girls to check on them, and we doubled back. Upon our
arrival, we only waited a few minutes before I was ushered in to
see him ahead of other patients. Chelsea was asked to stay in the
waiting room while I was followed a cute attendant to his private
office. When we were seated he began:

"Sean, I'll get right to it. I'm very sorry to say the news is
not good. The radiologists found a small tumor in Chelsea's
brain..."

My jaw dropped and I exclaimed, "What!" 

I sat in stunned silence as he continued. "I'm afraid it's
located in an area that we cannot safely access through surgery;
it's a rare breed of malignant cancer and it's growing very
rapidly; there was a noticeable change in its size between the
two scans."

Tears were welling when I asked, "What can be done about it,
Doctor?"

He pointed to a box of Kleenex on a table by my side and poured a
glass of water for me from a chilled bottle. 

In a very sympathetic tone he responded, "This is the toughest
part of my job, Sean. At the rate the tumor is growing, there is
nothing that can be done as far as we know. We'll get a second
opinion, of course, but she won't survive unless a miracle
occurs. I am so sorry..." 

I was in shock as tears ran down my cheeks. "She's dying? That's
not possible... It's just her damned twitchy leg!" "What about
chemo or radiation?"

"Those therapies won't work quickly enough to stop a tumor
growing this fast. All they would do is add to her discomfort."

I choked up and tried to compose myself. When I could speak again
I asked, "How long does she have?"

"It's difficult to say in a case like this, Sean. The progression
of these tumors isn't constant between patients..."

"How long, Dr. Weinstein?" I demanded looking him in the eye and
raising my cracking voice.

"We can't predict it with any certainty, Sean, but we are
probably talking a matter of weeks rather than months."

"That makes no sense at all! She's never even complained of
headaches! How can she have brain cancer? It's just her leg..."

"The tumor is still very small, Sean; the headaches will come,
and she will probably have seizures and may even slip into a coma
before it is over. We'll try to keep her as comfortable as
possible." After a long pause he added, "We'll need to do another
scan in three days   someone will call you to schedule a time -
and I would like to see her again after that."

"Ok," was all I could say as I fought to maintain a semblance of
dignity.

"I'm going to leave you with some privacy now, Sean. Please take
as long as you need."

When he closed the door I quietly sobbed in agony - really crying
for the first time since I was a kid. After getting it out, I
composed myself, took a few sips of water and dried my eyes. "How
am I going to handle this... and live without her? What am I
going to say to Chelsea... and the other girls?" Deciding to wait
until we got home and think about it along the way, I stopped at
the restroom in the hall, washed my face and braced myself. Then
I walked out in a mental fog to get Chelsea.

She could tell by the expression on my face that something was
very wrong. She ran to me and asked, "What is it, Daddy?"

"Let's go, Darlin'," I responded softly as I guided her towards
the door. Once we were outside she asked again. 

I turned to her and gently responded, "We'll talk about it when
we get home, Chelsea. Please don't ask me again." 

"Ok," she replied with a worried expression.

We rode in uncomfortable silence, which was completely foreign to
us. Chelsea's expression reflected dread, and it broke my heart.
"It's worse because I'm making her wait. The doctor's office
really should have asked me to come alone. It would have been
much easier   if there is such a thing   if she were waiting for
me at home. They should have known her being with me would make
it more difficult..." My mind raced as I tried to cope with what
I had to do.

When we arrived, the girls were in the pool and didn't notice us
coming in. Amy hadn't spent the night, but she'd ridden her bike
over and was swimming with Rachel and Britney while waiting for
Chelsea to return. We went straight to my room and sat on the
bed. I drew her into a warm hug, feeling our souls merge once
again. I decided I needed to be honest rather than give her
half-truths, and I told her as gently as I could. When explained
that they couldn't operate on it, she broke down. I cradled her
in my arms and gently rocked her while she held me as tightly as
she could and sobbed. After several minutes, she got over the
initial shock and tilted her head up with her cheek still planted
on my chest and looked at me with reddened puppy dog eyes.

"Am I going to die, Sean?" she asked incredulously in a trembling
voice. 

I softly stroked her head as I responded, "I'm afraid so,
Darlin'. I'm so sorry." I held her and soothingly caressed her.
The tears began again, and I just rocked her like a baby until
she was done.

When she caught her breath, she whined, "It's so not fair." Then
in a softer voice, "Everything has been like, so perfect, uh, and
we've been so happy." After thinking for a moment she asked
pensively, "How long do I have?"

"He doesn't know... not too long... weeks, maybe a month or
two..."

She sat up straight and said in rapid succession, "Oh, no! What
are we going to do? I can't leave you! What about Amy?"

"We have a lot to think about and do, Chelsea. We'll have to take
it a step at a time."

"Okay," she said sadly before melting into me and becoming lost
in her thoughts again.

"The first thing we need to do is tell the girls. They'll know
it's something serious. We won't be able to hide it."

"They'll be real sad..."

"I know. Everyone will be sad."

"Will it hurt really bad?"

"The twitches will get worse but they don't hurt and I'm not sure
if they will later; you will get headaches, though. He promised
they will do everything they can to keep you comfortable."

"Okay... Will you tell them?"

"Sure, Darlin'."

We laid in each other's arms for a while absorbing the enormity
of it all. After about fifteen minutes I said, "I'd better go see
what they are doing. Do you want to stay in here, Darlin'? She
just looked at me and barely nodded her head, deep in thought.

The girls were out of the pool and just finishing toweling off as
I walked out on the patio. When they saw me, Amy was the first to
note my expression and ask in a panicky voice what was wrong. I
quietly told them we needed to talk and requested that they go
change and meet me in the living room. The looked shocked and
apprehensive, but they obeyed; it was a quiet procession that
went through the door to their bathroom.

Once they were settled and looking at me to speak, I broke the
news   again as gently as I could. When I told them it was
terminal, three stunned girls looked at each other and burst out
crying as they rushed towards Chelsea's room. I told them she was
in my room, and they immediately turned and ran to her. I
followed them in and tried to comfort each of them, but they were
all hysterical so it wasn't easy. They got Chelsea crying again
and I couldn't stop a few tears from welling either, although I
managed to maintain control. After about twenty minutes, the
crying slowed. When everyone had quieted enough for the questions
to start, Rachel asked while the others listened silently huddled
together around Chelsea on the verge of tears again. I explained
what the doctor had told us about the tumor and that he said she
could be gone within a month or two. 

I left a heartbroken crowd of girls in the room when I went to
the patio to call April and Terri. They'd heard about the issue
with Chelsea's leg through their girls, but they were stunned
when I told them she wouldn't make it. April broke down crying
and said she would have to call me back. Terri took it better,
but she hadn't seen Chelsea in years and never shared my bond
with her. She was more worried about her daughters, and she
didn't like the idea of them experiencing the grief and
witnessing Chelsea's decline. She said she'd fly in the next
day.

We were finally alone again after a quiet dinner; nobody ate much
of the pizza I ordered. Amy left earlier with April, and Britney
and Rachel were sitting on the patio talking. Chelsea and I
discussed what was happening to her... us, and she cried again as
I held her tightly. Then we talked about anything we could think
of to take our minds off the stark reality. I agreed she could
sleep with me - with pajamas on - so I could comfort her and be
there when the attacks came. In full knowledge of the risk that
one of the girls might come in, I kissed her deeply   with all of
my heart - anyway.

It was a somber night. Rachel and Britney pretty much stayed in
their separate rooms trying to cope with the reality while I
remained with Chelsea and went out to check on them from time to
time. I knew their summer vacation plans were ruined but both
were more concerned about Chelsea and me.

The girls didn't have any issues with the idea of Chelsea
sleeping in my bed. They had both done so with Terri and me   and
each of us individually depending on who was home - when they
were ill or very scared in the past. I had slept on my side with
a pillow between my knees extending over my crotch on those
occasions to prevent them from accidentally experiencing
nocturnal erections or morning wood first hand.  I still owned
pajamas my girls had given me three years before for Christmas,
and they looked new since I'd only worn them a few times when I
knew one of them would be sleeping in our bed. I dug them out to
wear that night in order to allay any questions. Chelsea and I
cuddled together and slept fitfully, awakened once by an attack.
They were still spaced about five hours apart. 

When Terri arrived the next day, she secured a room at a nearby
hotel and came by to pick up the girls and their things. She
intended to take them back the next day, but they stayed in town
at the girls' insistence. They wanted to be there for Chelsea -
and for me. The three of them came by to spend a few hours with
us each day and the girls swam and played together between the
episodes. 

On the second night after her diagnosis, I explained eastern
beliefs in the concepts of reincarnation and soul mates to
Chelsea. We chose to believe that we had been through numerous
prior lifetimes together, and we would share many more to come.
The ever present mystical bond between us was proof enough. Birth
and death were just rites of passage on our journey, and we would
be together forever. That philosophy worked to keep our spirits
up most of the time, but we fell into depressed lulls when the
weight of her imminent departure grew too heavy. We just cuddled
in stunned silence then until we pulled ourselves together again.


Ultimately, Terri promised to bring the girls back to see Chelsea
before she died, and they reluctantly agreed to leave after their
fourth night in the hotel. Britney and Chelsea clung to each
other and cried as they said their goodbyes. Rachel liked Chelsea
well enough and was depressed by the situation, but they weren't
as close, so it was a bit easier for her. I was saddened to see
them go but thought it was probably best.

Chelsea and I quickly passed through the stages of anger and
denial and then accepted the grim truth. Amy was sleeping at home
but spent the daylight hours of her last week of summer vacation
with us. She assumed the role of nurse and saw to Chelsea's needs
like a mother hen when the attacks came. When she was
asymptomatic, hours at a time in the earlier days, they swam,
sunned, watched TV and otherwise entertained themselves. There
were also times they fell quiet and despondent. Chelsea told me
they continued to make love when opportunities arose, and I was
treated to little flashes of Amy's delights from time to time
that lifted my spirits briefly.

The evenings were ours, though, as were the most of the days once
school started, and we took full advantage of them. When she
wasn't symptomatic or too sad, she was frisky, and we made love
as often as possible and basked in the glowing energy generated
between us. We also swam, played games, and talked for hours on
end while she still could. She was just as playful and loving
then as she'd ever been. 

One night during pillow talk, she looked into my eyes and
murmured, "Sean, I need you to, like, take care of Amy for me
when I'm gone. Just make sure she's okay... okay?"

"I'll do what I can for her, Darlin'. She doesn't know, does
she?"

"No, I never told her and she never said anything. But I wish you
could show her, um, how awesome making love is - like you did for
me."

"I don't know about that, Darlin'. I won't have any reason to be
alone with her then, and I could never make the first move. I
just can't be a child predator, Chelsea... even if you believe
she wants that from me."

"She does, I'm sure. She, like, fantasizes about you. But I know
you never wanted to start with me either."

"I just can't see it happening, Darlin'. I'll keep an eye on her
and help her when I can, that's all I can promise."

I tried to get some work done when they were together, but it was
difficult to focus. I cancelled the jobs on my calendar that
hadn't been started and declined new offers. My coffers were
still full from the movie deal and I had savings, so I didn't
have to work. My agent explained my hiatus, and most clients
understood. I managed to finish the jobs that were already in
progress with the help of a producer friend who lined up
musicians, ran studio sessions for me and brought me the rough
tracks. I had Pro-Tools on my laptop, so we did the mixing in my
office at the house even though the speaker set-up wasn't as good
as the studio's. 

I shopped in the early days while Amy was with Chelsea. The only
time we left home together was for diagnostic tests and
physician's visits. The second opinion confirmed what we already
knew; the tumor was growing, marking her days. 

A hospice nurse came by each day to examine her and counsel the
three of us, (with Amy's guardians' approval). Chelsea and I
shared a look the day she explored eastern concepts with us along
the lines of what we had already decided was our truth. Amy
returned to school and was only able to spend a few hours a day
with us after that.

As the days passed way too quickly, her illness progressed with
the attacks coming more frequently, lasting longer and
intensifying. Her other leg, arms and hands entered the dance in
turn, and the headaches arrived with a vengeance on the
eighteenth night following her diagnosis. Medications helped with
the headaches, but witnessing Chelsea in excruciating pain as I
tried to soothe her until they kicked in was worse than anything
I could imagine. There were still times she was symptom free, but
it eventually reached the point that the spasms, headaches and
cumulative lack of sleep were sapping her vitality, and she
drifted off to sleep during most interludes. I was exhausted,
too, and joined her in her respite so I could be there when she
awoke. April and others shopped, brought us meals and ran errands
for us so I could didn't have to leave her side.

I pretty much missed 9-11. I heard about it and saw a few clips
of the devastation; it would have been impossible to miss it
altogether. However, I was not glued to the TV like the rest of
America. I had more immediate things to worry about.

On Chelsea's last night at home, though we didn't know it then,
she felt well enough to ask me to make love to her for the first
time in days. Her face, neck and torso were not yet affected by
her illness, and her only symptoms at the time were minor
twitches in her left arm every few minutes. She had lost five or
six pounds and appeared gaunt, but our chemistry never faltered
and I didn't mind. We showered together, and I put on the
impressionist period CD we had come to think of as our own and
turned down the lights. We kissed lovingly and then passionately
as hands roamed familiar territory and our energies swirled. I
nursed on her somewhat smaller but still firm breasts and she
suckled my turgid cock, effortlessly deep throating me until she
consumed my offering. Then I thoroughly licked, sucked and
fingered her succulent little pussy and ass through a series of
peaks as she cried out and convulsed in the throes of ecstasy.
The taste of her sweet ambrosia had not been affected by the
medications; I lapped at her chalice and cherished every drop.
Her downy soft golden muff was a bit thicker at the top though
still not long enough to stand up or curl, and her labia had
sprouted just a handful of scattered short hairs. 

Later, after another episode of spasms subsided, I cradled her in
my arms spoon fashion as we made sweet poignant love. Savoring
the moment and not anxious to cum, I held out through varying
tempos and strokes for over thirty minutes even though we knew
her next round of symptoms could start at any time. She came a
few times with increasing intensity and we finally exploded in an
intense ball drenching orgasm with her hyperactive vagina
devouring my seed. We laid together in post-coital bliss
whispering words of love and drifted off to sleep until the next
assault on her system woke us up. I'll forever be grateful that
her headaches and spasms subsided for long enough to let us share
one last enchanted evening together. 

Around mid-morning the following day she had her first grand mal
seizure, and I called the ambulance as instructed. She was
admitted to a private room in the hospice ward at Memorial where
they hooked her up to monitors and tubes. The doctor came by and
sympathetically advised me she was entering her final days. Then
a hospice nurse arrived to counsel me on what to expect before
moving on to the next stop on her rounds. I stayed by Chelsea's
side and made calls to my agent, Terri and April. 

My ex believed it a woman's prerogative to change her mind, and
she wouldn't let a little thing like a sworn promise to the girls
stand in her way. She said she would bring them in for the
funeral but refused to let them see Chelsea in terminal
condition. Britney called me later crying on the phone because
her mother had reneged, and there wasn't much I could do other
than try to console her. I'd already told Terri what I thought of
her ethics to no avail.

When I called to tell April, she broke down and cried again. She
brought Amy to the hospital straight from school and they entered
the room in tears. Chelsea was sleeping at the time, and I got
them settled down enough to fill them in on the situation. About
an hour later, April announced that they had to leave so she
could pick up groceries and prepare dinner. Amy objected and
insisted she wanted to stay with Chelsea: she had her school
backpack in the car, and she promised to get her homework done. I
offered to keep an eye on her and feed her, and April let her
stay stating she would pick her up in time to prepare for bed. I
walked them to the car so Amy could get her bag.

When we returned, Chelsea was awake again and feeling well enough
to chat. The girls talked about school friends and gossip going
around, and there were moments when their eyes flashed and the
sparkle of their natural rapport surfaced through the gloom. Then
a severe headache struck, and I called the nurse who administered
another dose of morphine through her IV. 

I took Amy to a local place across the street for dinner and we
spent time one-on-one for longer than we ever had before. She was
depressed and picked at her food, and I can't say I did much
better. I tried to open her up by asking about school, her
interests and their other friends, but she mostly responded with
one word answers. When we returned to Chelsea's room and sat
together in the silence broken by the beeping of monitors, Amy
began sobbing again and I held her close and tried to comfort
her. Once she was cried out, she held my hand for a few minutes
as we sat quietly in adjacent chairs. Then she did her homework
while reaching out to grasp my hand for comfort now and then.
Chelsea didn't awaken again until after April picked her up.

She was lucid for several days when she wasn't wracked with
spasms or headaches or out from the medication. Amy came by every
day, and April let her stay with me for periods of time when she
had other things to do. My attempts at getting her to talk while
Chelsea slept were more successful, but being at the hospital
under those morbid circumstances threw a pall over our
discussions. She was a little better when we went out to eat or
just to take a walk knowing that Chelsea would be out of it for a
while.

The attacks on Chelsea's nervous system continued, along with the
headaches and almost daily seizures. When the hospital grew still
late at night during that phase and she was in remission and
feeling frisky, we made a game of me diddling her clit or eating
her pussy between nursing rounds to pass the time and give her a
pleasurable escape from her torment. It was her mischievous idea
in each instance, and it was easy enough to comply since she was
only wearing a hospital gown under the sheet. We cleaned her up
afterwards using washcloths from the bathroom. After the first
night, I brought a towel in to put under her butt and a
pocket-sized aerosol can of unscented air freshener to mask her
scent. I knew it a tremendous risk I shouldn't have taken, but
she deserved at least that much... and they never caught on. One
night when we were talking after I got her off, she reminded me
again to take care of Amy for her.

Twelve days after entering the hospital, she had a severe
headache that persisted to the point that they put her on a
morphine drip, and Chelsea was never lucid again. I was holding
her soft warm hand when the monitor alarms went off and she
flat-lined three days later. My beautiful nympho angel died on
September 17, 2001. It was her fourteenth birthday... 

Epilogue

The funeral was a small affair. Terri, my girls and Amy were
there along with her foster parents, a few of their other school
and Hope House friends, Suzanne, Charlene, Mrs. Knolls, and a
smattering of my friends and associates who had been smitten by
Chelsea. The service was touching, and we wept as we buried her.
Friends and neighbors brought food by the house for a few days
and tried to comfort me. I appreciated their efforts, but I
needed to grieve alone.

I floundered in total despair for over a month - drowning my pain
in a bottle and not leaving the house. I cursed the fate that
took her from me and tortured myself with unanswerable questions.
Then friends staged an intervention, forced me to get out and
kept coming back in spite of my objections. My reliance upon
alcohol was the first to go. 

Within two weeks, I had talked out the anger and depression, and
resolved not to feel sorry for myself any more. Chelsea had been
a brilliant light in my life I would never forget, but I still
had daughters I loved who needed me - even if it was just through
a phone call on most days, and I had a career I enjoyed. The
facts that I had been able to bring love and happiness to
Chelsea's tumultuous life and show her the beauty of sexual union
provided me with a measure of satisfaction, and I was confident
my soul mate and I would meet again in another life. Remorseful
periods continued to come, but I was able to push through them
and keep going.

I aggressively threw myself into work and wrote this story.
Getting it down on paper has been a cathartic experience. Once
thoughts and memories are organized in text, they become history
without the same emotional powers over the author.

Occasionally, I ran into Amy when she was out with her foster
parents or riding her bike around the neighborhood, but we didn't
have much to say to each other. She was heartbroken by her friend
and lover's death, and it was awkward speaking with her. I noted
that her transformation into womanhood was slowly progressing. I
found myself reflecting on her crush on me and her prior
experiences with her uncle from time to time, wondering if she
might still be willing. However, I no longer had access to her,
and it wasn't worth the risk of trying. It was much too soon,
anyway; we were painful reminders of the loss we shared.  I
called her foster parents every few weeks to check on her in
keeping with my daughter's dying wish. She was reported to be
healthy, doing well in school and still depressed by what had
passed but improving. 

I had given my Chelsea files to Suzanne at the funeral and asked
that she handle whatever was necessary on the legal side. I had
never studied the documents package provided to me by CPS despite
my intentions and, in an ironic twist of fate, I inherited
Chelsea's parents' estate and the life insurance proceeds that
had been placed in trust for her by the court. I used the
majority of it to establish a trust fund for Amy so she wouldn't
need to be concerned about college expenses or getting a head
start in life. I called to let April know what I'd done and tell
her the documents would be in Amy's file at CPS. She put Amy on
the phone to hear it for herself and I told her what I had done.
She was thrilled and very thankful. It was comforting to hear her
happy girlish voice again.

The lasting legacy of my relationship with Chelsea was a radical
shift in my perspective on the female gender. I know I'll forever
be drawn to vernal blooming females of junior high age to early
high school age, and mature women, even younger ones, no longer
interest me. In spite of my efforts to fight it, I find myself
hanging out in distant malls and other places young girls
frequent - avoiding schools because I know they are on the
lookout for lurking strangers. Hours at a time are spent admiring
the young talent I come across and daydreaming of their charms.
Of course, I'm careful to cover what I'm doing; I keep moving and
use my memory trick to avoid staring. Outdoor locations on sunny
days are best since I can wear sunglasses to mask my eyes and
study them at my leisure using just eye movement while my head is
positioned as if I'm focused elsewhere. I'll manage through the
rest of winter and look forward to summer when pools and beaches
are open and I can observe their exquisite bodies in scant
attire. 

Internet porn with models the right age to fuel my perverted
fantasies is too risky for me, also. Men are arrested for
downloading kiddie porn almost every week in my city. I regret
not taking nude photos of Chelsea when she suggested it one day.
My digital Nikon took a compact flash card, which is easily
hidden, and I could have used a clean one for those images.
Chaste photos I took of her over the months including a number of
her and Amy in swim suits or tight clothing, her self-portrait
sketch, and the vibrant images and videos of them stored in my
mind are all that remain. I am resigned to a life of sexual
relief through masturbation while replaying memories of Chelsea -
and Amy, to a lesser extent - or fantasizing about the pubescent
beauties that draw my attention in public. Much too chicken to
risk my existence by approaching a strange young girl or respond
to the occasional flirtations one encounters from them in life, I
just dream...

*****************************************************************
*
Thank you taking the time to read this humble offering to the
ASSTR collection. Your comments are welcome and appreciated. You
can reach me through the author's link in my profile on ASSTR.

I told Denny Wheeler I wouldn't write a sequel, and he demurred.
There are only so many ways to describe genitalia, orgasms, and
sexual acts, and I abhor redundancy. However, if there is enough
interest, I may decide to tackle a continued storyline reuniting
Sean with Amy. We'll see. 

Author's Note: I took liberal liberties with the field of
neurology of which I am virtually ignorant. I have no friends in
the field to consult with, and the story was more important than
the accuracy of Chelsea's symptomology and the etiology of her
illness. I once knew of a healthy woman, an associate's mother,
who died of brain cancer five weeks after tremors began in her
leg. The rest of the illness and Chelsea's demise was fleshed out
entirely in my imagination. I hope those with studied knowledge
of the field will forgive me.

 2012, Copyright - Scott St. Martz - All Rights Reserved

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