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Subject: {ASSM} Chemistry (Mf, ff, oral, anal) Chapters 8-11
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Date: Fri, 14 Dec 2012 07:10:01 -0500
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Please post.

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  Scott St. Martz
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<1st attachment, "Chemistry 8-11.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 8   Formalities 

I awoke once again to my pixie lover sucking my dick. I wasn't
sure if it was morning wood, residual Viagra or her ministrations
that had me so hard, but the improvements in her technique from
the day before were remarkable and the sensations were simply
amazing. She was kneeling between my legs, leaning down and
concentrating on what she was doing. 

I wondered to myself, "How did she get into that position without
waking me up?"

When she glanced up and noticed I was awake, she stopped for long
enough to smile sheepishly smile say, "I wanted to, uh, practice
with Brock one last time." 

"That's fine, Darlin'. You can wake me up like this any time you
want. You're really getting good at that!" 
	
She smiled and went back to slowly long stroking my dick, pausing
at the top to swirl her tongue around and suck on the head before
taking it in slowly - inch by inch - until she had her nose and
lips nuzzled into my pelvis again, pausing there and then sucking
her way back to the top. Her mouth was moist with saliva, so
warm... so velvety soft. She got a smooth rhythm going   not
fast, but without pauses at each end - relaxed long strokes with
lightly pulsating sucks and tongue action on the underside of my
dick along the way. 

I knew she was showing off her deep throat technique, and noticed
that she didn't gag as much. Within minutes, my breathing picked
up and I instinctively began meeting her mouth with my pumping
pelvis   gently, but enough to let her know I was close. 

She increased speed with shorter strokes and massaged my balls a
bit before reaching down to rub my anus with her fingertip. She
was trying to press it in but her finger and my hole were much
too dry for her to succeed at more than getting the tip into the
opening. However, the combined sensations were enough to take me
over the top. She went deep again and I came   grunting, moaning
and exclaiming as it hit. It was a strong orgasm. Repeated waves
of pleasure coursed from my genitals, exploded in my brain and
flowed throughout my body to my toes and fingertips as my cocked
spewed in her mouth. She continued her hungry sucking and backing
off to swallow without gagging or choking before diving deeper
again to strip my emissions into her mouth with her sucking
upstrokes. Finally, it was over and the sensitivity of my little
head became too much. I reached down and gently pulled her off. 
	
"Wow!" I told her. "That was absolutely fantastic, Darlin'! I
can't believe you learned that in one day!"
	
"I knew I could figure it out and not, like, gag or choke," she
said with a smile.
	
"You sure did, and you were right. Without a doubt that was the
best blowjob I've ever had!"
	
She beamed at me proudly with her whole being as she said, "That
makes me sooo happy, Sean!" She crawled and slithered up over me
until she could embrace and kiss me, which I eagerly returned. My
eyes were closed and, when my hand drifted to her ass, I was
surprised to encounter panties. I cupped and massaged her ass
anyway and, when we parted, I said, "Your period must have
started, huh?"
	
"Yeah, it started early this morning when it was still dark, so I
needed, like, a pad and panties."
	
"Well, sex during your period can be fun, but it's also pretty
messy."
	
"I'm okay. I'm, like, too sore anyway. I just wanted to do that
for you   and to see, um, if I could do it right."

"You did it perfectly, Chelsea!" That got another beaming proud
smile out of her.
	
"Well, let's get some breakfast," I said. I'll have to make some
calls in a little while here as soon as people can be expected in
their offices."
	
"Okay." 

As we got up and moved to the kitchen, I noticed she was walking
a little gingerly, so the first thing I did was to get her a
couple of Motrin to help soothe her ravaged body. She tried to
keep her spirits up and not let the pain show. We worked together
as we put together pancakes, eggs, sausage and juice   with
coffee for me. We did all of this without dressing, so I was
especially careful cooking the sausage in the nude. 

Our looming separation was weighing on us. We attempted light
conversation as we ate, but it wasn't working well with our
saddened moods. I had her review her story for me one more time.
The only input from me was to add a few questions we hadn't
specifically covered to see how she would respond. She appeared
to have it down pat, and her facile mind improvised well on the
new questions. It had been drizzling since we woke up, but it was
supposed to clear up later. 

We had a little time before I had to get started, so we took a
look at the clothes she arrived in. They were already wrinkled
pretty badly. I found the Mapquest printout in her back pocket
and threw it away. The jeans were dry but they had soured a
little from the rain. I got dressed and went out to soil her
jacket, jeans and shirt a bit more on the buildings' stairs
before sprinkling the outer wear with water to dampen them. I
balled them up, and stuck them in her backpack. Then we found her
some clean jeans, a t-shirt, clean underclothes and socks in
Britney's room that she could wear back to Hope House. As an
afterthought, we wet down her tennis shoes to complete the
deception.

I accepted the fact that I might be giving away some of Britney's
prized clothing, but decided that I could handle that issue by
the time she came back in the spring for Easter vacation.
Christmas was to be in California this year, and I was working on
a trip out there to see the girls and give them their gifts. They
might not have fit her by the time she visited me again anyway.

Chelsea wanted to bathe, so we showered together for what might
be our last time ever. She hesitated and looked a little
embarrassed while I was stripping in the bathroom, so I asked her
about it as I ran the shower to warm up the water. She sheepishly
said she might have some blood leaking when she took off her pad
to shower. I assured her it wasn't a problem - adding that I'd
had sex with menstruating females before, so a little blood in
the shower surely wouldn't bother me. That seemed to work, and
she skinned off her panties, removed her blood stained pad with
its sticky wings, folded and wrapped it in tissue, and tossed it
in the trash basket. I was already nude, and I pulled her into me
for a tender kiss and a loving hug.
	
We washed each other's bodies in the shower again. I saw
occasional pinkish droplets and some darker reds seeping from her
pussy or dripping down her upper thigh now and then before they
were washed away by the water. It didn't bother me at all. I
cherished every moment with my gorgeous naked nymph   so tender
and smooth   and I wondered what extremes I might be willing to
go through in order to be alone with her again. I decided to
postpone those thoughts until I could think more clearly. 

I wrapped my arms around her from behind in the warm spray of the
shower and felt her melt into me   marveling again at the
sensations of our energies merging into a single force. Then I
gently diddled her sore pussy while playing with her nipples for
the last time - bringing her through a series of small orgasms
that weren't earth shattering like those she'd had experienced
over the weekend but were enough to satisfy her for a while. Then
we reluctantly turned off the shower and kissed and cuddled as we
dripped off before stepping out. 

We dried each other, and I didn't notice any blood this time.
This wasn't surprising because I knew menstrual seepage isn't
constant. Chelsea went to get another pad, and came back with a
tampon instead. She'd found some of Rachel's in the girls'
bathroom and asked if I knew how they worked. While I hadn't done
it before, I'd seen women deftly insert them various times in the
past; and I'd read the directions on tampon boxes while sitting
on the john without any other reading materials handy. 

We managed to get it into place without any trouble, and she said
she was going to use them from then on. It dawned on her that, if
she were examined, she could explain her missing hymen by saying
that her girlfriend this weekend only had tampons when she needed
something.

I finished dressing while she was bending over brushing her hair
- still half nude. I leaned over to kiss her on the back of her
neck while playfully reaching under to tweak her nipple and
tickle her ribs. She sighed at the kiss and then giggled and
elbowed me in the ribs in response to the rest   staring playful
daggers at me and laughing harder when she couldn't hold it. 

I chuckled along with her and left to start making some calls. As
I walked out of the bathroom, I glanced back to admire her -
still facing away from me and bent over from the waist brushing
her hair. I paused for a moment to take in the sight and thought,
"This might be the last time I'll ever see that gorgeous little
ass and smooth pubescent labia, and there is a soft white braided
string hanging from her puffy slit..."

I called my business attorney friend and, after ribbing him again
for his referral on the divorce attorney who had served me so
poorly, asked if he thought he could do better on a lawyer with a
specialty in child welfare cases. He didn't press for details
before giving me the name and number for Suzanne Edwards  
assuring me that she was the best around. I gave her a call and,
surprisingly, I was put right through. I briefly explained our
plight and asked if she might be able to help. She told me it
would be best if she were present and made the call to Hope
House. She then volunteered that she had no pressing matters on
her plate that morning. A hearing on her schedule had been
cancelled the previous Friday. After addressing the issue of her
hourly rate, which was about the same as my attorney friend
charged me, we agreed that she would come right over. I gave her
directions, and noted that it was about a half hour drive from
her office.	

Chelsea came out fully dressed. She was still walking slightly
bowlegged, but it wasn't as obvious as before; the Motrin must
have helped. She joined me on the couch and leaned into me, so I
put my arm around her while I explained what I had arranged so
far. She seemed to understand and asked me if the lawyer was
nice. I replied that she sounded like she was friendly enough. We
sat in silence for a while pondering unspoken thoughts and
questions. Then she turned to me, our eyes engaged, and we were
drawn into an exquisite loving kiss. 

When we came up for air she inquired softly, "Do you want my, um,
AIM screen name, Sean? I'm never sure when I'll be online, but I
want to, like, stay in touch with you."

"Darlin', I'd like to have it just in case, but I don't think it
is a good idea that we chat online. It would be hard for us to
keep from saying things that could be used as evidence if anyone
ever suspected us enough to investigate."

"I didn't think of that," she said. "I guess that means we can't,
like, talk on the phone either. Phone calls have records, too."

"We'll have to see about that. A record of the call wouldn't be
an issue if they are authorized. It might not be a problem as
long as nobody is around on your end. Your expressions and tone
of voice can say a lot to an observant person even if you don't
say anything that might get us caught." I gave her my card with
my cell number on it, and she slipped it into the pocket of her
jeans. "I'd love to hear from you, Chelsea, but we need to ask
our attorney about it; we'll know more once we talk to her. Are
you ready?"

"I think so. I can't help but, like, be sad that this weekend is
over. It's been soooo wonderful! I don't want to leave!" With
that she began tearing up and I cradled and soothed her with
loving words as she trembled and then broke down and cried for a
few minutes until she got it out. 

After she calmed some I kissed the top of her head and softly
commanded, "Darlin', look at me." She raised her head to meet my
gaze, and I continued, "I'm real sad about you leaving, too,
Chelsea, but wouldn't it be better if you weren't all teary and
puffy eyed when Ms. Edwards gets here?"

That little light I'd seen before went off in her head again as
she struggled to compose herself and replied in a faltering
voice, "You're right, Sean. Maybe I'd better go, like, rinse my
face with cold water and use some eye drops. I'll be okay."  As
she walked away, I couldn't help but envision the naked form I
then knew so well.

I sat alone considering the different ways this morning   and the
rest of my life, for that matter   could go if things didn't work
out right. My earlier horny confidence that Chelsea could handle
the necessary deceit was beginning to wane, and I realized that
my fate was truly in the hands of a hormonal thirteen year-old
girl   maturity level aside. After running through what seemed
like endless possibilities for disaster and realizing it was
simply beyond my control, I determined that I would handle it
like I do airplane flights. Once I'm on a plane, I make a
conscious decision to refuse to worry about my safety. When we're
in the air, my fate is in the hands of the flight crew, the
machine under their control and the whims of Mother Nature. My
worrying certainly won't influence any of these factors. Under
the circumstances, Chelsea needed my leadership more than
anything   and nervousness was the last thing I wished to
portray. I took a moment for some Yoga breathing exercises and
meditation, and I felt my body relax and my mind become centered
on the present moment in time.

I hadn't heard the water running for a while so called out to
her, "Are you okay in there, Darlin?"

"I'm fine, Sean," she said entering the room. "I just needed a
few minutes to, uh, get myself together. I'm calmer now and I
think I'm ready for whatever I need to do." 

"You look much better. What is the bag for?"

"Oh, I saw some stuff in the trash in the bathroom and, uh, I
thought we'd better throw it out in case someone needs to go in
there."

"That was good thinking. Let me put that in the kitchen trash and
take it out. I'll check my bathroom, too."

"Thank you," she replied in a subdued voice accompanied by a
barely perceptible smile. The confident look in her eyes said
more than her words. "She might pull this off after all," I
thought. I took out the trash, and we spent the remainder of our
time quietly. She sat in the easy chair at a right angle to me
instead of on the couch - her backpack on the floor next to it.
Our sporadic conversation centered around the positive aspects of
what we were about to do and our future time together   even if
we had to wait five years for her to come of age. 

When the doorbell rang, I walked to the intercom, greeted Suzanne
Edwards, and told her how to get to my apartment. Then I buzzed
her into the building. I returned to Chelsea and leaned down to
give her a final quick kiss on the lips. I gently tipped her cute
chin up with my crooked finger to catch her eye, showed her a
confident smile, and encouraged her to focus on the role she was
going to play. She responded with a calm gaze, a little smile of
her own and a nod of her pixie head before I turned, gathered
myself and walked to the front door.  

I greeted Suzanne for a second time at the door as we shook hands
and I accepted her card. We agreed to dispense with formalities
and address each other by our first names. Then I ushered her
into the living room where I introduced Chelsea.  Once seated,
Suzanne got down to business. She asked if she could record our
conversation rather than having to take notes, and I agreed. She
set up her recorder and addressed me first. I recounted the
events of that morning since Chelsea arrived   or the version of
that altered truth I wanted her to believe, anyway. Then she
turned to my young lover and spoke to her in a friendly motherly
manner.

"Chelsea, I need you to tell me your story. You can keep it
simple for now, Hon; we can get into more details later." Chelsea
began with an overview of what happened to her family leading to
her being a ward of the state and recapped the story about
running away from her foster home, her weekend on the streets and
finding her way to my door that morning. Suzanne was sympathetic
and soothing in mannerism as she asked for clarification on some
points.  I thought Chelsea pulled it off pretty well. She came
across as a bit reticent and genuinely unhappy about her life
situation. I was pleased that she did not falter in referring to
me as Mr. Sean, and she avoided looking at me for prompts or
support as she went along. She ended by explaining to Suzanne
that my family was her only remaining link to her past, and she
had come to me to ask if I could take her in.

When Chelsea finished, I briefed Suzanne on my divorce and
custody situation before adding, "I feel terrible about the way
life has treated Chelsea, and I want to do everything in my power
to improve her opportunities in life. She has always been an
extremely precocious girl, and I think she has loads of
potential. As she told you, I've known her since she was in
kindergarten when my daughter, Britney, befriended her. My wife
and I had always considered her a part of our family, and we were
horrified by the losses she was forced to endure. Now that I'm
divorced and living alone, there probably isn't any chance that I
can adopt her, but I do want to provide financial support and do
whatever else I can for her." 

Suzanne replied, "I'm sure we can make an arrangement for you to
be involved in her life at some level, Sean. Listen, I don't wish
to raise any false hopes, but we can't discount the possibility
of you adopting her just yet. You would have to undergo close
scrutiny by CPS and the court, but adoption of a young girl by a
single male, although rare, is not entirely unprecedented in this
state." I glanced in Chelsea's direction and saw her light up at
this news. 

"You mean I might, like, be able to come live with Mr. Sean, Ms.
Suzanne?" Chelsea exclaimed brightly.

"We'll see, Chelsea. I can't promise you anything, Hon. It will
take time to explore that possibility and, even if it works, it
will be at least a few months before it happens." My little
Darlin's' face fell again, but she didn't appear to be quite as
down as she was before. There was a glimmer of hope for us.

Continuing, Suzanne said, "Well, it's time for me to make the
call. Do you have the number for Hope House?" Chelsea didn't know
it, so I looked it up in the phone book, and Suzanne called and
explained the situation. When she hung up she said, "They should
be here within the hour." She turned to me and added, "Sean, if
you don't mind, I would like to speak with Chelsea alone."

"Sure, that's fine. I have some business to take care of this
morning, anyway, so I'll be in my office." As I walked away,
fears that Chelsea might slip up intruded upon my thoughts once
again. I had no choice at that point but to trust her.

About a half an hour later, Chelsea knocked on my door office
door and entered. She told me they were finished, and Ms. Suzanne
was in the restroom. It was a good thing Chelsea had noticed the
trash this morning with its evidence from her use of it through
the weekend. Suzanne wanted to speak with me alone next. Chelsea
came to me for a quick hug and a loving kiss   one we kept short
before returning to the living room and innocently taking our
previous seats. She told me things had gone pretty well. Ms.
Suzanne had questioned her about her creepy foster father and her
other experiences in the system, and she asked if she had been
hurt or sexually assaulted over the weekend. She also had more
questions about the events of this morning and how I had behaved
when she arrived. Then she clarified why Chelsea was freshly
bathed and dressed in clean clothes. After that, they talked
about Chelsea's relationship with my family and her feelings for
me. When Suzanne returned, Chelsea excused herself saying she
would hang out in Britney's room so we could talk privately.

When she was gone, Suzanne began, "Sean, you're right. She is a
wonderful little girl, and she seems to be very bright. She also
adores you and your family   I mean, your ex-wife and your
children - and she sees you as a lifeline. The child protective
system works as well as a bureaucracy can, but she is being
exposed to potentially harmful ideas and peer pressures with less
guidance than she needs. It will be difficult for her to reach
her potential in that environment   even with your assistance.
The question I have for you is whether or not you really want to
take on responsibility for her..."

Before she could continue, I interjected, "Suzanne, I know this
is a major decision that has been thrown at me without warning,
but my wife and I always loved that girl like she was our own. I
knew and admired her parents, and I'm committed to helping her.
If I can adopt her, I will. If that doesn't work, I will want to
be there for her as much as I can."

She looked me straight in the eye and got serious, "Now, I must
ask you some frank questions, Sean. I'm bound by attorney-client
privilege, and anything you say will be kept between us, but I
need you to be completely candid in your responses so we are not
spinning our wheels here." I nodded my assent and she went on,
"Is there anything in your past that might come to light in a
pre-adoption investigation and cause us a problem?"

I thought for a moment before replying, "No. I'm a pretty normal
guy, and I've never been in trouble with the exception of
childhood mischief   and that never involved legal problems."

"Are you absolutely certain? No inklings of child abuse, no
sexual proclivities for young girls or pornography, no drug or
alcohol problems, no violent behaviors... arrests   nothing at
all?" She was holding my eyes with a steely gaze and appeared to
be testing my veracity. I held my own and replied, "Nothing that
I can think, Suzanne. Oh, I did get a ticket for an illegal left
turn a few years ago."

"Good   that wouldn't matter. You realize that they will be
looking at you under a microscope, don't you? They will run
background and credit checks and interview your family, friends
and neighbors. If they come up with anything   even something as
minor as a joke you might have made in passing to a college buddy
at the beach about an under-aged girl in a bikini might be enough
to raise doubts about your suitability."

"I hadn't thought of it in that way, but I imagine they would
have to investigate everything in a case like this. No, I never
even considered young girls as sexual beings until they were of
dating age, and I was always attracted to females in my own age
group at the time. I'm not interested in pornography, and I don't
do drugs   though I did experiment with pot one semester in
college. I enjoy a glass of wine or a cocktail in the evening two
or three nights a week   or a beer or two when I'm watching a
ball game, but I'm not a drunk."

"If you're certain there won't be any issues that will cause this
to backfire on us, I'll file the paperwork and get it started."

"Suzanne, I'm positively sure I want this to happen and I'm
confident you will find I'm being truthful. Please do whatever
you need to do." Of course, I failed to mention the little matter
of ravaging all three of Chelsea's orifices in the past couple of
days. As long as that didn't come out, I was very confident about
my past.

"If what you are telling me is borne out in the investigation, I
think you will have little trouble in an adoption proceeding,"
she said. "Tell me about your education, work and financial
situation. Can you afford her?"

"Okay... I graduated with honors from State with a degree in
music theory and composition, and I've been able to forge out a
living writing and arranging commercial music along with doing
production work in studios and filling in as a session musician
keyboards, vocals and guitar. I mostly write sound tracks for
animated cartoons, feature films that never seem to hit the
theaters and commercials. You might even recognize some of my
work if it was brought to your attention. I've never won any
awards or had the opportunity to score a major motion picture,
but the work is steady and it has been enough to support myself
and my family comfortably and set enough aside to build a
retirement account and a modest investment portfolio. I'm not
rich by any means, Suzanne, but I can certainly afford to care
for Chelsea."

"That must be an interesting career." 

"I enjoy it... Do you think I can see or at least communicate
with Chelsea while we go through this process?" 

She paused for a moment to think before responding, "I don't see
a problem with phone calls, and I'm pretty sure I can for arrange
visits at their premises if they have a space where you can meet.
 If not, you might be able to take her for short walks around her
neighborhood now and then. Taking her out in your car would
require approval by social workers or the court. I'll see what I
can do."

"Thank you."

On that note, the doorbell rang again, and we knew it was time.
Suzanne went to retrieve Chelsea while I got our visitors into
the building and met them at the door. There were three females:
the manager of Hope House, Charlene Ryan, Chelsea's social worker
introduced only as Mrs. Knolls, and a police officer resembling a
bull dyke whose name I forget. As I was getting them seated and
offering refreshments, which they politely refused, Suzanne came
in with Chelsea to join us. She must have had some last minute
instructions for Chelsea.

Suzanne introduced herself and explained that she had been
retained by me to protect Chelsea's interests. Charlene Ryan and
Mrs. Knolls fussed over Chelsea for a couple of minutes   telling
her how much they had worried and asking why she had run away and
where she had gone. Chelsea accepted their hugs but said nothing.
Obviously, Suzanne had asked that she be the one to speak with
the officials, and she took charge of the meeting. 

She briefly outlined the situation, including what Chelsea had
told her about why she had run away, how she had come to be in my
apartment that morning, and my intentions regarding the child's
future. The cop didn't say anything, but she eyed me suspiciously
when Suzanne explained that I wished to adopt Chelsea. Mrs.
Knolls had several questions that did not come as a surprise and
were answered appropriately by Chelsea or me. A pause in the
discussion was enough for Mrs. Knolls to announce that they all
had a busy day ahead, and it was time to get moving. 

Suzanne told me she was going with Chelsea, and I offered to walk
them to the car. Taking up the rear in our short parade, I
noticed my young lover was walking much more smoothly than she
had been earlier - the resiliency of youth... By the time we
reached the street, Suzanne had apparently worked it out with
whoever was making decisions for Chelsea to ride with her to Hope
House. 

When we got to the car, Chelsea approached to give me a hug and
thank me for everything. I returned her hug paternally and kept
it short - acutely conscious of the critical observation we were
under. Even that brief contact was enough to feel the mystical
energy swirling between us as it always had. Then I stepped back,
smiled, and promised I would see her again as soon as it could be
arranged. When she turned to wave from the departing car, there
was a tear in her eye again, but I was confident that Suzanne
would keep the others from badgering her. I had to trust her not
to slip up, though I knew she was determined not to make any
mistakes that could hurt us. I returned to my apartment secure in
the knowledge that Chelsea and I would be together again soon,
even though it might not be with the privacy we would like for
some time to come.

Chapter 9   The Process

Suzanne called later that afternoon to let me know things had
gone well after they left. Chelsea was getting settled back into
Hope House, and she wouldn't be returning to the foster home.
Someone had been dispatched to retrieve her personal belongings,
and CPS was going to reinvestigate the people in that home before
placing another child with them. Suzanne worked it out for me to
be able to visit Chelsea on Saturday mornings, and daily phone
calls had been approved. Her classes resumed after the
Thanksgiving break, but she was being transferred to a school in
the Hope House district and wouldn't be starting for a day or
two. (I made a note to myself to look into schools in my area,
since that had not been a consideration when I purchased the
condo.) My intervention had created additional short term
instability for Chelsea but, hopefully, her future would be
brighter. Suzanne subsequently faxed me a list of documents she
needed in order to prepare the petition.

Just as I was picking up the phone to call Chelsea that evening,
the phone rang. She was calling from the dining room and nobody
was within range to overhear, but I cautioned her about
maintaining appearances. She told me she had been sad all day,
though she sounded happy on the phone. We talked about her school
situation and friends and acquaintances she was leaving behind.
She had mixed emotions about the move; there were kids she would
miss, and she was excited about seeing friends again from sixth
grade when she had been in that school district before. She was
entering her new junior high on Wednesday. The rest of our call
was spent discussing her roommate, the girls she knew that were
still there and the approval of our Saturday visits. We agreed to
speak each evening about the same time, and she snuck in a
whispered, "I love you," as we said goodbye.

I touched base with my daughters that night, too. I told them
about Chelsea's appearance at my condo that morning, how her life
had been going and what I was trying to do for her. They were
surprised and very supportive of the idea of adoption. Britney
was especially excited about seeing her old friend   maybe new
sister - again when they next came to visit.

I thought time would pass slowly until Saturday, but the weekend
with Chelsea had put me a little behind on work and two new jobs
came in with short deadlines, so I stayed pretty busy. I also
gathered the information and documents Suzanne requested and had
them delivered to her. 

We spoke each evening as planned, and she filled me in about
school happenings, friends she was running into and what was
going on around her residence. I tried to avoid discussions of
"us" so she wouldn't get too emotional. Her roommate was a
fourteen year old black girl named Shaqina whose crack-head
single mother had died from an overdose. Chelsea didn't care for
her much. We also talked about the possibility of adoption and
our upcoming visit on Saturday. Girls under sixteen were not
allowed to leave the premises by themselves. Two or three
together could go out as long as they had a specific purpose,
received permission first and returned when they were expected;
they were not permitted to hang out on the streets. Her
privileges to leave the building without an adult had been
suspended since she had run away.  

Friday, Suzanne called to tell me she filed the adoption
petition. Due to holiday schedules, the hearing would not take
place until late January or February at the earliest. CPS would
begin their investigation within a week or two, and it had to be
completed before the hearing.

Saturday morning I felt like a teenager getting ready for my
first date. I spent extra time grooming and changed my mind twice
about what to wear   settling on jeans, a beige Polo shirt and
running shoes along with a light jacket for the cool weather.
Chelsea was less of a concern in that regard than Charlene Ryan,
but I was excited about seeing my little lover again.

Hope House was an aging facility in an older blue collar part of
town. It was one of those boxy institutional structures built in
the sixties that resembled a two story college dormitory. There
were retail, office and light industrial complexes in the area in
addition to some thirty year-old neighborhoods off the main drag
- with homes probably averaging around fifteen hundred square
feet or so. While the area looked fairly safe during daylight
hours, there was a run-down HUD development five or six blocks to
the south that was not a good place to be. I suspected that thugs
came out at night like roaches to prey on the unsuspecting. 

I arrived shortly after nine, and the door was answered by a
woman who introduced herself and requested I sign the visitor's
log. She appeared to be in her fifties and had the demeanor of an
embittered school teacher. I was escorted to a large communal
space like the day room of an Army barracks that consumed over
half of the first floor. It had seating areas with couches,
upholstered arm chairs and cocktail tables by the TV and in a
library space, as well as utilitarian office chairs along the
walls near ping pong and foosball tables. In a central area there
were four brown Formica computer stations like the ones they have
at libraries bolted together to form a cube. A painted pipe ran
up from the middle through the ceiling to conceal wiring. 

Chelsea had told me there were usually thirty to fifty girls
living at the home between the ages of twelve and seventeen, but
they had beds for up to sixty residents if needed. About
twenty-five girls were engaged in various activities in the large
space, and most of them paused to check out the stranger in their
midst. Two rougher looking older girls across the room ignored me
as they raised their voices in a heated argument until an
attendant stepped in to enforce the peace. 

The walls were painted that drab shade of light green
institutions adopted after a study was done on the effects of
room colors upon mood and mental activity in the seventies. It
was supposed to be soothing, but the paint was faded and marred
giving it the opposite effect. Furniture and fixtures were also
showing their age, but nothing was falling apart. The electronics
and game tables were newer, and they appeared to be functional
from what I could see. The lighting consisted of stark
fluorescent panels patterned in a dropped ceiling among dingy two
by four foot acoustic tiles that used to be white. Attempts to
soften the look helped some. There were draperies in the windows,
stock framed prints on the walls and area rugs scattered around.
The ambience was functional and clean on the surface but
depressing, although sporadic bursts of laughter and giggling
from girls brightened it up a bit.

Chelsea was watching TV with others and sprang to her feet when
she saw me. She rushed over as if she were going jump into my
arms and then checked herself and sheepishly greeted me with a
friendly, "Hi, Mr. Sean!" and an appropriate hug. She was wearing
a loose knee length denim skirt, a fitted yellow t-shirt and
sandals.  Charlene Ryan joined us a minute or two later. We got
on a first name basis, and she let me know I was not permitted in
the upstairs bedroom areas. Chelsea and I could visit in the
foyer, dining room or entertainment salon, and it would be fine
if we took a walk as long as I signed her out and back in at the
desk. Nothing was said about how long we could visit, but I
thought it would be best to hold it down to an hour or two for
our first time.

We sat on a sofa in the library area apart from the other girls
talking for a few minutes. Some of the residents were checking us
out, and we appeared to be the topic of whispered discussions.
Energy was streaming between our eyes, and I was concerned
someone might pick up on it, so I suggested a walk. Chelsea
jumped at the idea and ran off to pee, change shoes and grab a
sweatshirt from her room before we left. While she was gone, I
observed her peers interacting and it came to me that my
perception of young girls had changed in a week; I could no
longer say I didn't see them as sexual beings. 

It was a sunny day with temperatures in the mid-fifties, typical
of early December in the south. As we left the building, I opened
the door and placed my hand on Chelsea's back to guide her
through. She wrapped her arm around my waist and snuggled against
me as we stepped outside. I quickly reminded her we needed to be
careful because they were watching, and she responded, "I know. I
just want to hold you sooo badly."  We gave each other another
little squeeze and dropped our arms. 

Though I had been through the area before, I wasn't very familiar
with it.  I noticed a small restaurant a couple of blocks from
there as I drove in, so we wandered in that direction. Along the
way, she pointed out a few stores they frequented and told me
about a park off of a side street we could see. We talked about
the neighborhood, her residence and the stories of a few of the
girls I'd seen. We walked in silence for a few seconds and I
asked, "Was anyone around here suspicious?"

"One girl was kidding me about, like, looking like I got laid -
and she was pushing me to tell her about it. I kept denying it
and, like, telling her she was wrong. I told her I was just happy
'cause I might get to, um, get out of here and live with someone
I know and like. She didn't say anything else about it."

"She was the only one?"

"Yeah, it's been a long time since I was there and girls have,
like, come and gone. There are only two still here I was friends
with before. I don't get along with them because, like, we don't
have anything in common."

"Well, maybe you'll make some friends among the newer girls."

"I hope so..." We walked in silence for a few steps and she said,
"Sean, I have a secret to tell you," in that little girl voice
with a mischievous look on her face.

"What's that, Darlin'?"

"My period ended yesterday and, uh, I'm not wearing any panties,"
she replied sheepishly with a giggle.

"What are you trying to do to me, Chelsea?" I groaned while my
dick thickened at the mental image.

"I thought you would like that..." she replied pensively.

"Oh, I do, Darlin'   and so does Brock. We just don't have
anywhere private to go."

"Well, maybe we can, like, go to the park after we get a snack."

"I don't know, Darlin'. We can't afford to take any chances..."
When her face fell, I added, "Well, maybe we can at least check
it out."

Fuzzy's was a small family style restaurant that looked like it
had been there for decades. The server who greeted us was
friendly and the place appeared to be clean enough. We sat across
from each other in a booth to avoid any suggestion of
impropriety. The dcor was a hodge-podge of antique conversation
pieces secured to walls, family photographs, some framed posters,
faded newspaper clippings - also framed, and a bulletin board
with business cards and notices pinned to it. I hadn't eaten
breakfast, so I ordered a bacon and egg sandwich and coffee.
Chelsea just wanted a cinnamon roll and apple juice. 

I hadn't mentioned the adoption petition during our conversation
the night before and when I told her, she was ecstatic that it
was progressing and might really happen. I went on to tell her
what Suzanne had said about the timetable, which brought her back
down to earth. Two or three months in the life of a young
teenager   particularly one in her dire situation - is an awful
long time. 

Our waitress approached with food ending the conversation. We
discussed her roommate, teachers and homework load as we ate, and
I paid the bill at the register on the way out. 

While strolling towards the park, we reminisced in quiet voices
about our previous weekend. Chelsea brought up the topic saying,
"Last weekend was, uh, so amazing, Sean, but now it seems like a
dream   almost like it didn't happen, um, at all, but I know it
did! It was sooo awesome!"

"I know, Darlin', great times are like that. They never seem to
last long enough, and they soon become memories. Last weekend
will go down as one of the high points of my life   maybe the
highest I'll ever reach... I know I'll never forget it. It
already it seems surreal in many ways, and my self-concept has
taken a spin." 

"What do you mean?"

"Like I told Suzanne Monday morning, I had never looked at young
girls as potential sex partners in my life. I just didn't think
that way... But now when I look at them, thoughts I'd never had
before are running through my head... I guess I'd heard that
girls are sexually active at younger ages these days. After
making love to you, though, it has become more concrete."

"Sean, are you sorry we did those things?" she asked hesitantly.

"No, Darlin', I love you and wouldn't trade what we shared   or
any part of last weekend - for anything.  My revised view of
young girls is a reality now, and I'll have to deal with it.
Experiencing you in the ways I have has changed me, as I'm
certain last weekend has changed you. That's just what happens in
life; things occur that change your way of thinking."

The park was a neighborhood facility covering about two square
blocks with wooded areas, a playground, benches, picnic tables,
and a baseball diamond with two sets of six row wooden bleachers
about thirty feet long. The field wouldn't get much use until
spring unless they converted it for other sports. It was vacant
that day except for a father and son throwing a football around.
There were also a concession stand behind the high chain-link
foul ball fence, closed at the time, and restroom facilities. We
sat on the bleachers for about twenty minutes talking and
watching several young children having fun in the playground
while their mothers or care givers monitored from the sidelines.


We decided to check out a trail through a wooded area across the
field. There were kids riding bikes through there and we
encountered other walkers - leaving us no chance for privacy. We
came out not far from the restroom building. It backed to a
thicker stand of woods away from the trail, and we ducked behind
it when nobody was looking. Chelsea melted into my embrace and we
shared lingering kisses as we clung to each other. I was a little
nervous and reluctant to spend too much time back there, but I
couldn't resist verifying that she wasn't wearing panties. I
diddled and fingered her little heavenly soft pussy to a
shuddering orgasm as we kissed. She wanted to suck my dick, too,
but I thought that would be taking too much of a chance even
though I was hard and horny; we'd already been back there for
longer than I thought was safe. We heard voices approaching and,
after a quick peek around the opposite corner to confirm nobody
was in sight, left our hideout. Chelsea went to the ladies room
to clean her pussy while I went to the other side to wash my
hands   after delighting in her fragrance and sampling her sweet
juices from my fingers. Then we reluctantly headed back to Hope
House. 

I signed her in and, at her insistence, agreed to stay for
another thirty minutes or so. She introduced me to Shaqina, who
was a heavyset young black girl with hard eyes, a poor attitude,
ghetto diction and slouchy behavior   much of which may have been
a result of her situation. She only stayed with us for a minute
or two before being called away by a friend. I met two of
Chelsea's other acquaintances who stopped to say hi. She played
her part to perfection the entire time, which boosted my
confidence that things could work out for us.

For my second visit, I brought along my Nikon digital camera so I
could take pictures of her. I didn't have any recent ones, and I
wanted one or two for my mantel. The park seemed like the best
location for a photo shoot. It was a bright morning but the low
angle of the winter sun filtering through the trees provided
artistic lighting effects. We played photographer and model as I
shot around a hundred images in various poses against different
backdrops   none of which could be criticized as being improper.
We didn't have the privacy for spicy shots, which would have been
dangerous to have in my possession anyway. Upon reviewing them on
the small screen afterwards, we found several we thought were
pretty good and two that were excellent. Then she took a number
of shots of me and chose one that she wanted me to print for her
to keep in her room.

On a quieter morning at the park during our third visit, Chelsea
practiced her blowjob skills behind the restrooms after I got her
off. I placed my jacket on the pine needles for her to kneel on
while she amazed me with skills she had developed when we had
been together a few short weeks before. There is no substitute
for natural talent. She took her time, deep throated me with
minimal gagging, swallowed my seed without a drip of mess and
sucked me dry before tucking my dick away with a proud little
smile. I thoroughly praised her once I recovered. She washed her
face in the ladies room and used a piece of bubble gum she had in
her pocket to mask my masculine scent on her breath. On our way
back to the girls' home, she told me she had secreted hot dogs
from the dining room twice in the past weeks so she could
practice, and she got herself off with one of them, too, before
eating the evidence. Envisioning her in that process induced a
slight rise from me in spite of what we had just done.

I received a call from CPS a few days after that visit, and we
scheduled my interview for the afternoon of December 27th. The
woman wanted to meet at my condo so they could see where Chelsea
would be living if the adoption was approved. I was just happy to
hear that they were working on it.

Plans had been finalized early in November for me to fly to San
Francisco to see the girls over Christmas. Two weeks before the
trip, however, the sound director on a lucrative television
commercial project called to say that he would be in my city for
the holidays. He insisted on meeting with me on the Friday before
Christmas, which fell on Monday that year. I had to scramble to
change my flight to early Saturday afternoon. I paid the penalty
for changing the reservation and considered myself lucky to find
a seat at all. I figured I had probably had one of the tickets
that were over-booked to cover no shows, but I had little choice.
I would just have to get checked in early. The silver lining to
that cloud was that I could see Chelsea Saturday morning before I
left.

When that Saturday arrived, I showed up at Hope House early with
armloads of presents for her. I'd bought her a pretty aquamarine
dress to replace the one she borrowed from Britney, shoes to
match, a pair of the "in" brand of jeans, a couple of simple knit
shirts from Express, a beautiful thigh length suede winter coat
with a soft sheepskin lining, and a cell phone. She was
absolutely thrilled, especially with the phone and the coat,
exclaiming that she had never had a better Christmas. My joy of
giving was somewhat dampened by envious looks she was receiving
from other residents, and it occurred to me that most of them
would probably not have much of a Christmas. Chelsea timidly told
me she was embarrassed that she couldn't give me more as she
presented me with a self-portrait sketch she had drawn in art
class that was an amazing likeness. She beamed as I praised her,
saying it would be proudly displayed in my living room so I could
admire it every day. 

While we were at the park that morning, I also gave her a slender
chrome vibrator  little more than the width of a double-A battery
and about an inch longer - along with three extra batteries and a
caution that she make very sure nobody ever discovered it. It was
called "purse sized", and I knew it would come in handy for her
masturbation sessions. She lit up when I handed it to her and
told me she had a perfect hiding place for it. She also promised
me as she slipped the items into the pocket of her new coat that
she would be very careful not to get caught with it. 

I made the flight. It was great seeing the girls again, though I
could have done without Terri's attitude. While traveling, I
admired and evaluated the appearance of attractive females I came
across along the way, as guys generally do in those situations.
The types that had always attracted me drew my attention, but
pretty young teenagers caught my eye in new ways, too. 

Spending time with Rachel and Britney was wonderful; I really
missed having them around. We went shopping, swam at the indoor
pool at my hotel and ate meals out together. I had shipped
wrapped Christmas gifts ahead so I didn't have to deal with
traveling with them but Britney's birthday was on the day I
arrived, so I brought those presents with me. It was great to see
her so delighted when she tore into them, and she showed her
appreciation with enthusiasm kisses and hugs. Both girls appeared
to enjoy the numerous gifts from me they opened on Christmas day,
too.

One thing I found unsettling about the visit was that perceptions
of my daughters' child-like innocence had been altered by recent
events. Rachel chided Britney over dinner one night about a boy
who had been coming around to see her, and the older one was
still dating a boy she had met the previous spring. In spite of
efforts to maintain, visions of them naked and sexually active
kept surfacing in my mind   especially when they were in their
bikinis at the hotel pool. I didn't wish to have sex with them by
any means, but their sensuality was apparent. I had
subconsciously blocked those thoughts for years choosing to think
of them as innocent kids. 

While questioning those lascivious imaginings in my hotel room on
Christmas Eve, I ostracized myself again for crossing the line
with Chelsea. Then she called, and it brought me back to the
realization that I was completely in love with that little girl
and there was nothing I could - or would   do about it. Fate
brought us back together and the symbiotic energy between us
could not be ignored. However, the facts that we had become
sexual and those experiences had surpassed all others in my life
by far had elevated our relationship to a plane I never knew
existed and would no longer want to live without. I shook off the
lingering pangs of guilt once again, (which I was becoming much
too accustomed to doing), and resolved to focus on giving my
daughters the fatherly attention they deserved while I was there.


Needless to say, Chelsea was a repeated topic of conversation
during my visit. The girls were fully in favor of the adoption,
and I didn't sense any jealousy festering, which had been a
matter of some concern on my part. Terri was also supportive of
the plan and told me an investigator from CPS had already taken
her statement over the phone. They had scheduled a time to talk
to my daughters individually the following week. We also made
plans for the girls' Easter visit; Britney was excited that she
would be able to see Chelsea then. 

Wednesday morning, Terri followed us to the airport so my
daughters could see me off. My first thought as I boarded the
plane was that I was returning to Chelsea. We had spoken two or
three times each day while I was gone, made much easier by her
cell phone, but I really missed her and was looking forward to
seeing her Saturday. 

Chapter 10 - Progress & Passion

I met with CPS on Thursday as scheduled, and I thought the
interview went pretty well. Mrs. Knolls was very cool towards me
as she thoroughly inspected my home   including examining the
titles of books, videos and CDs on my shelves - and found it to
be suitable. I explained that my younger daughter had offered to
share her room with Chelsea until I could find a bigger place.
The interview went on for almost an hour and she never cracked a
smile; she obviously took our unusual case very seriously. She
told me near the close that they had run the required computer
background checks and didn't find anything that concerned them
and they were awaiting the investigator's report. As we parted,
she finally smiled and assured me that things were looking good.


Suzanne called the next day to let me know CPS had approved my
request for excursions with Chelsea. I called Charlene, who had
already been advised, and made arrangements to pick her up the
next afternoon. The only limitations were her school load and the
completion of chores she was expected to do around Hope House.
Her curfew was eight o'clock, though we could make arrangements
in advance for a later return on special occasions. I also needed
to advise them where we were going and sign Chelsea out and in. 

When I gave Chelsea the news about Suzanne's call, she squealed
in elation. Shaqina had left that morning to live with an aunt,
and a new roommate had not yet been assigned, so she was alone in
her room at the time. She closed her door and giddily elaborated
on the things she wanted to do with our new freedom. We discussed
going to movies, the mall, or out to eat, but she made it very
clear that spending time with me at the condo was her top
priority. Later in the conversation, I asked if she was enjoying
her new vibrator. She replied that she loved it and was playing
with it most days. I cautioned her again about discretion, and
she assured me that she was being careful with it.

The next day I had matters to attend to in the morning. When I
picked Chelsea up after lunch her eyes were sparkling with
excitement. It was a cold day by southern standards   around
forty - with rain in the forecast. She was wearing khaki slacks,
a navy blue long sleeve knit shirt, boots and the winter coat I
had given her for Christmas. I told the attendant we were going
to the mall and might see a movie. Then I would feed her an early
dinner and have her back by seven or so. As we pulled away from
Hope House in my SUV, she unbuckled her seat belt and scooted to
my side on the bench seat. I stopped her short and reminded her
of our need to be very careful about appearances in public. She
grumbled about just wanting to be close to me as she moved back,
and then she smiled when I reached over to take her soft hand in
mine.

I drove aimlessly for a while to make sure no-one was following
before heading for my neighborhood - and then circled the block
checking for strangers before pulling into the underground
garage. As a friend once told me, "Just because you're paranoid
doesn't mean they aren't looking at you..." 

Chelsea behaved herself until we got inside and closed the door.
Then I barely had time to brace myself before eighty-five pounds
of horny thirteen year-old jumped me - wrapping her arms around
my neck and her legs around my waist as she kissed me hungrily. I
instinctively supported her butt and lower back as I returned the
kiss. Then she said, "Sean, I love you sooo much! I couldn't even
sleep last night because, like, I was so excited about today."
Her beautiful eyes were blazing.

"I love you, too, Darlin'... with all my heart. And what do you
think I should do with this gorgeous girl in my arms?" 

"Make love to her, silly!" she squealed.

"Oh, really... and what if I'm not in the mood?" I asked
teasingly.

"Seeeaaannn!!!"

"Okay, okay. If I must..." With that she glared at me for a
second, smiled, and kissed me again   that time we shared a
tender and loving kiss that melted us together.

I carried her to the bedroom cradled like a baby with her head on
my shoulder and as much body contact as she could manage between
us, but the baby in this instance was cooing in my ear, running
her fingers through my hair and planting gentle kisses my neck as
we went. I could feel the heat from her crotch pressed into my
abdomen, and I was already hard and throbbing. I sat on the bed
flipping her around so she was sitting sideways on my lap as I
did - and kissed her again. Then we stood and slowly undressed
each other between embraces, caresses and kisses. 

When she exposed my raging hard-on, she leaned down, took it in
her hand and coyly remarked, "Hi, Brock! It doesn't look like you
need any help at all today, huh?" She took about half of its
length into her mouth so she could slurp her way off  
punctuating it with, "Mmmmm, Brock, you sure taste great! Tina
has missed you so much!" Then she popped up, scanned the room and
brightly announced that we needed music. I already had a towel
hanging on the headboard, so that part was done. While she
browsed through the stack of CDs on the dresser, I adjusted the
lighting and admired her diminutive nude form. Her slender
shoulders, the petite cones on her chest, and that gorgeous
little protruding butt were awe inspiring to a guy my age. She
was so casual about nudity in my presence. She turned looking
puzzled and asked, "Isn't that CD we listened to the last time
here   that, uh, classical one?"

"I'm sure it is. I didn't realize you liked it, Darlin'. I
thought you just accepted it because I enjoy it."

"I really like the music, Sean; I just don't know much about it.
Will you teach me?"

"I would love to, Chelsea, but I think that will have to wait," I
said glancing down at my hard-on.

She followed my eyes to my rock hard cock and giggled. "I meant
some other time..."

I helped her locate the CD and she put it on. It was the
collection of impressionist composers' works we had listened to
the night I took her virginity; those pieces would always have a
special meaning for us. We came together again for a soulful kiss
that lasted for a minute or two while our hands roamed each
other's naked bodies. She felt so tiny and tender in my arms that
I momentarily regretted taking advantage of one so young. Then I
suppressed the thought and mentioned we needed to use protection.
She reluctantly agreed and asked, "Sean, when you adopt me can I,
uh, get on birth control?"

"I think we can probably work that out, Darlin'. All you have to
do is complain of severe menstrual cramping and most
gynecologists will recommend birth control medications because it
interrupts your cycles. We'll check into it when the adoption
gets done." 

We made gentle and passionate love like we had been doing it for
years - effortlessly flowing together without discussion. We
started with kissing, caressing and fondling and slid smoothly
into a sixty-nine. I marveled again at the sight, taste and
responsiveness of her juvenile pussy and ass, and I thanked the
powers that be for bringing us together. I needed pillows under
my head and had to stretch a bit to fully access her with my lips
and tongue, but it was well worth the discomfort. I took her
through an escalating series of orgasms. Meanwhile, she made oral
love to my cock bringing me to a toe curling orgasm and seeing it
through to the end. 

While we recovered to the sounds of Debussy, she asked about
various positions for making love and my experiences with them. I
told her about the common ones and she was curious about others.
I retrieved my copy of the Kama Sutra from the drawer in the
night stand and she flipped through it remarking on the absurdity
of some positions and the potential fun of others. I idly tweaked
her nipples and stroked her young pussy to keep her juices
flowing, and she casually petted and played with my dick and
balls with her free hand. She paused once and closed her eyes as
a small orgasm washed through her. Watching her cum was something
I could never tire of seeing. Her eyes closed, her breathing
became staggered, and wanton little moans and grunts escaped as
she got close. When it hit, she convulsed, moaned louder and
shuddered with little tremors throughout her body as a blissful
expression blanketed her face like she was floating on air.

When she noticed my member thickening, she resumed sucking and
stroking me until I was fully hard again. Then I reached for a
lubricated Trojan, handed it to her and coached her through the
task of rolling it on. She wanted to try doggie style, so I had
her assume the position and asked her to scoot her knees to the
edge of the bed with her butt in the air. She laid her head on a
pillow and wiggled her elfin ass at me invitingly. I suggested
she relax and let her back sag into an arch - tipping her pussy
up towards me. I stood behind her on the floor and paused for a
moment admiring her ass and puffy reddened hairless labia waiting
to be split. I massaged her ass cheeks for a moment, amazed by
their soft succulent texture. Then I leaned forward and reached
under to cup her breasts and tweak her nipples simultaneously as
she moaned in appreciation. My hands slid back along her flanks
and I lightly swatted each of those scrumptious taut cheeks
because I couldn't resist - causing her to squirm and moan before
turning her head to catch my eyes and plead, "Do it, Sean..." She
spread her knees a little wider, and her glistening pussy lips
flared and spread to reveal their inner charms.

I dredged my dick up and down through her drenched slit to
additionally lubricate the head, spread those tender lips wide
with the fingertips of both hands and teased her by slowly
popping the crown just through the rim of her vagina and
withdrawing it completely over and over again - guiding reentry
with my thumbs. As I withdrew every second or third time, I
grasped my dick near its base with forefinger and thumb and
thumped the head against her pussy and clit repeatedly - causing
her moan and wiggle. She couldn't know when penetration was
coming again, but she knew it would. I mentally filmed the
unbelievable sight of her resilient opening stretching wide to
accommodate me and instantly shrinking to virgin size as I pulled
out, like it was winking at me. Once when I backed off a few
inches, I paused to watch for a moment as a crystalline droplet
of her juices ran down across her glistening pink pearl and
thickened at the tip of its hood like a slow drip on a faucet
until it broke free... falling to the sheet below. Then I pressed
through the entrance and withdrew again. She moaned in delight at
the first several cycles. When the teasing became too much for
her, and she looked at me over her shoulder again, groaned
impatiently, and whined, "Come on, Sean. Pleeease!" Her posture
and manner at that moment triggered the memory of a frustrated
feline in heat I'd observed years before... On the next entry, I
maintained steady pressure and slid it home until I was balls
deep in her steaming hot chamber. She was as wet and tight as a
female could possibly be, and her enchanted pussy began feeding
on my dick immediately with undulating ripples of pressure
attempting to suck me into her womb. I encouraged her to play
with her clit and nipples while I began slowly long stroking her.
She did so and matched my rhythm   rocking back to fuck herself
onto my cock and rotating her pelvis as I bottomed out to grind
her clit against the hard vertical ridge at the base of my cock.
My hands lightly gripped her slender hips while I took her
through her paces.

I gathered some juices with my right thumb and massaged her
rosebud as we continued pumping, and she responded with louder
moans and words of encouragement through her ragged breathing.
With our height difference, my dick was angled downward to
stimulate her g-spot on each thrust and withdrawal. Her chain of
orgasms started within minutes and didn't subside   growing
stronger with each crest. When she peaked, I paused fully
imbedded in her and massaged her ass and low back as she moaned
and grunted in her girlish pitch and writhed in pleasure while
her contracting pussy milked my dick even harder. I resumed the
steady long strokes as she came down to keep her going. 

The intensity of her orgasms increased, and I upped the tempo at
her persistent urging. Slurping my thumb to wet it, I eased its
first joint into her ass and held it there as I increased speed
gradually until it became a pounding fuck with my balls slapping
against her clit that only lasted about a minute. We exploded
together in an incredibly powerful orgasm with our merged
energies swirling and driving us through the heights of ecstasy.
We rode it out together, slowing our pace as her starving vagina
stripped my dick of everything it had to offer. Finally, she
collapsed and rolled to her side, and I held the condom as we
disengaged to avoid seepage. Her eyes were closed, and she
trembled and twitched as diminishing waves swelled and ebbed
through her petite form. Strands of soft hair were plastered to
her sweat sheened pixie face again. Her mouth was slack, and her
chest was flushed and heaving. I dropped the rubber in the lined
waste basket next to the bed, wiped my dick with the towel and
joined her to cuddle while we recovered. All she could say when
she caught her breath was, "Wow!" which she repeated several
times pausing between the utterances.

We drifted off for a short nap, and I awoke first about twenty
minutes later. I gently kissed her to consciousness, and she
responded by wrapping her arms around my neck and holding onto
the kiss with our tongues lazily dancing and teasing. Then she
said, "I really like that position, Sean! Making love with you is
like the most awesome thing in the world."

"I feel the same about making love with you, Chelsea. It is
simply amazing! I love you, Darlin'."

"I love you, too Sean... but it was mean teasing me like that."

"Maybe, but you had a great orgasm, huh?

"Yeah! It was soo awesome!" she said as she moved in for another
kiss.

We showered together, becoming playful once the water brought us
fully awake. She swatted at my dick and I grabbed and tickled her
relentlessly as she laughed, squealed and tried to fight me off
under the warm spray. When that didn't work she grabbed my balls,
which quickly got my attention. I backed off saying, "Whoa,
Darlin'! That's not fair!"

"Well, it's not fair when you, like, tickle me like that either.
You're a lot bigger than me!" she responded indignantly with a
self-righteous grin.

"You're right. I apologize, m'lady," I replied with a deep bow, a
sweep of my hand and a smile that I held as she reponded.

"Apology accepted, kind sir," she responded with her gawky
version of a naked curtsy before breaking into another giggle.

I steadied myself with hands on her tiny waist as I licked her
from navel to sternum as I straightened and then veered to suck
her right nipple in when my head passed it by   gently but firmly
stretching it with my lips and pulling off to watch it snap back
into place. That earned me an, "Oooh, that's better!" as she
gasped from the unexpected sensations. We kissed and made up
while my hands slid down to cup and fondle her marvelous little
butt. Then we took our time washing and rinsing each other. Once
I was rinsed off, she stooped to slurp my soft member into her
mouth and give it a few strong sucks. I reached to turn off the
shower as she took it all the way in and mimicked my action of
stretching it out before pulling off as she rose. She beamed at
me playfully, shook off excess water like a puppy after a bath,
and twisted her hair to wring it out. Then we emerged from the
shower to dry each other off. I brushed out her long hair and
dried her again from the drips it caused. We didn't even mention
getting dressed; I knew she preferred staying naked.

I made chocolate sundaes for a snack. As we ate, we discussed
things we would need to do after the adoption. She brought up the
topic of schools, and I admitted that I had thought about it but
had not yet checked into it. I had started looking for a house
with at least four bedrooms to accommodate my expanding family,
and I told her so. I asked about her interests outside of school,
and she said she would love to take piano and art lessons again
if it was okay. I replied that I'd already considered art lessons
for her after seeing her lifelike sketch   gesturing to the
framed self-portrait on my living room wall   and I was happy she
wanted to pursue something musical, too. I had a friend who was a
very good piano instructor I thought she might like. She
commented on the framed eight by ten photo of her on the mantel
that we had taken at the park, and I retrieved the one she had
wanted of me, identically framed. After showing it to her, I
placed it on the table near the door so we wouldn't forget it.

I asked what she wanted to do for the rest of the day - adding
with a chuckle, "I don't think it would be a good idea for me to
take you back to Hope House walking bowlegged, Darlin'." 

She giggled and replied, "I guess I would walk funny if we, like,
make love all afternoon."

"Probably so... and I already came twice, so my recovery time
will be longer."

"I don't know how many times I came. It was, like, a lot! I'm a
little sore, too." I hoped I hadn't been too rough on her...

"I love that about you... that I can help you come over and over
again. I know it's more your sexual genetics than my skills as a
lover, but guys take pride in making their women happy and her
orgasms are a measuring stick of his success. Your quick trigger
makes me feel like a stud, Darlin'."

"You are a stud, but... I don't know... The chemistry we have is,
um, like magic and you really really know what to do to make me
feel good."

"Yeah, there is that, too." 

"Can we just go out and ride around, Sean? I haven't been able to
do that for like, a long time. Maybe we'll find something we want
to do."

"That sounds good," I responded. 

We cleared away the dishes and I let her lead the way to the room
so I could admire her naked form from the rear as she pranced
into the hallway - passing the metal sculpture by the entrance
that had first exposed her to me. The sway of her slender hips
was captivating, and I felt a twinge of response below indicating
I was still horny enough to could go another round. I didn't need
it then, and the moment passed. We got dressed, and she styled
her hair using Britney's blow dryer. Since she wasn't wearing
make-up, it didn't take her too long to get ready. I picked up
the picture and her shopping bags, a few things I had purchased
for her to complete the deception of a mall trip, on our way out.


We drove down the river road taking in the sights along the way
and talking. We covered a variety of topics including her first
lesson in classical music, which we were listening to on NPR.
When a monk choir sang a Gregorian chant, I briefed her on the
history of western music and how it changed as instruments
improved, notation systems were refined and composers built on
what was done before to write new and increasingly complex music.
I touched on the major periods in music: the Ancient, Middle
Ages, Renaissance, Classical, Romantic, Impressionistic and 20th
Century movements. I thought she might be bored by the topic, but
Chelsea seemed interested and asked good questions - until I
decided it was best not to push it any further and changed the
subject.

She brought up birth control again with a comment that making
love had still been lots of fun with a rubber but she liked naked
Brock inside of Tina better   and really liked it when he
squirted in her. I assured her that we would work on it. 

We also discussed the investigation by CPS, (they had interviewed
her, too, although it had been a short meeting), and the
probability that she would become my daughter if nothing went
wrong. She was ecstatic about how things were turning out; her
life was changing dramatically and the future was opening up to
her for the first time since she lost her family.

Rather than return to the condo, we decided to eat out. We passed
the mall where we were supposed to have been all afternoon, and I
suggested a hibachi grill next to it I liked. She had never tried
Japanese cuisine and wanted to, so the decision was made. The
others at our table, a family of five and an old couple, were
friendly and talkative. The older woman referred to me once as
Chelsea's father, and she corrected her saying, "He's not my
daddy yet, but he's gonna be!" The woman appeared puzzled by the
comment, so I explained that I was adopting her. She was pleased
at the notion and everyone else at the table voiced their
approval.

Chelsea ordered the grilled shrimp with a Sprite and I decided on
the filet mignon and sake. The dining areas were spacious,
spotlessly clean and well decorated, and the service was
excellent. The chef we had was comical, and he made it fun for
everyone   joking around, creating an onion ring volcano on the
grill billowing smoke and fire, adding rhythmic sound effects
with his knife and spatula, and accurately flipping samples into
our mouths. Chelsea was fascinated by the whole experience, and
she loved the meal. I had a feeling we would be back regularly.

By the time we finished dinner, it was dark out and she was due
back at Hope House within the hour. We took a circuitous route
and stopped by her neighborhood park for a few minutes so we
could kiss and cuddle. We didn't get carried away because I
didn't want to take her back horny with a reddened mouth. We
gathered her things and I walked her in to sign the register.
Then I hugged her goodbye with an agreement to call her when I
got home.

Chapter 11 - A New Friend (Mf, ff)

A few days later, Chelsea had a new roommate, a twelve year-old
by the name of Amy. She told me Amy was very sweet and they were
in the same grade because she had skipped a year. She already had
her class schedule even though she had not yet been to school.
They had the same lunch period, and they were in two classes
together. 

Amy's mother passed away from when she was in second grade, and
she was raised by her father and uncle for several years. Then
her uncle moved to another state and wound up going to prison
there. Her father had been killed in an accident at work about a
month before, and she was initially taken in by an aunt who
resented the imposition and shirked her responsibility. Like
Chelsea, Amy had no other family to take her in.

The girls found they had a lot in common, and they immediately
hit it off. They were together most of the time since they went
to the same school and roomed together. I met her soon after she
arrived. She was a beautiful slender brunette with barely any
boobs, a shapely little butt that showed promise, and gangly arms
and legs. About Chelsea's height with a little more torso than
legs, she had bright brown eyes, a teardrop shaped face with
pouty lips, and shimmering light brown hair falling past her
shoulders. Her ready smile was in need of minor orthodontic
treatment; she had a cute gap between her front teeth I imagined
she hated, but otherwise they were fairly straight. It was
obvious she was going to be a real head turner. Her personality
sparkled, and I could see why they were becoming close friends.

Britney and Rachel told me their statements to CPS investigators
had also been short, and the lady seemed to be happy with what
she heard. They assured me that I was a great daddy, and they
were confident I would be a good father to Chelsea, too. 

The next two weeks flew by. My career was prospering and my
personal life was busier than it had been in a long time. Chelsea
and I continued to call every day, and we got together two or
three times per week. I was reluctant to take her to my place not
knowing if CPS might notice in spite of my precautions. We did
manage to work discreet sexual relief into our excursions   even
if it just entailed diddling and fingering her to orgasm in the
car. I didn't get off as often, but it didn't bother me. I was
looking towards the long term when she would be living with me. 

Chelsea pleaded with me to take Amy out with us some time, so I
broached the idea with Charlene. While she didn't think she could
allow me to take her with us in the car without some formalities
she would look into, walks together in the neighborhood were
approved. We took her out several times for an hour or two. I
found Amy to be a real little charmer like Chelsea and extremely
bright. I learned that she was a voracious reader and was in
accelerated math and science classes at school. Her father had
been an engineer who was in the wrong place when a crane
collapsed into a wall on a job site. 

We had a great time as a trio just walking around the
neighborhood or getting a bite at Fuzzy's. Amy was primarily
focused on Chelsea during those outings but, when she looked into
my eyes or hugged me goodbye, I felt a surge of energy similar to
that I shared with my little nymphet. It wasn't as strong, and I
wondered if I might have been projecting it on her at first, but
further experience confirmed something was there. I wondered if
Amy suspected Chelsea and I had more of a relationship than was
apparent. 

Suzanne called at the end of January to advise me the adoption
hearing was scheduled for two-thirty in the afternoon on February
15th. If everything went as expected, Chelsea would go home as my
adopted daughter when it was over. My adolescent lover was
ecstatic when I told her, and she began making preparations to
move in. She had mixed feelings about leaving Hope House, though,
because she didn't want to abandon Amy. I assured her we would
keep in touch and try to see her whenever we could.

Researching public schools in my area didn't return the results I
was hoping for. I had already put the condo on the market, and
the school situation added to my motivation to find a house.
There was a private non-secular school not far away that could
also handle after school care if I was tied up. I put in an
application for Chelsea with an explanation that I was adopting
her and didn't have parental rights yet. The tuition would put a
crimp in my budget and books and bus service were extra, so I
considered it a back-up plan. The school she was already
attending was in the upper middle range results wise and it had
the advantage of not having to uproot her again so soon. They
also had an aftercare program. Keeping her there for the
remainder of the term appeared be the best solution. It was about
half an hour from me, and there was no school bus service in my
area. I didn't like the idea of her riding public buses alone, so
I resigned myself to running a personal taxi service for a few
months.  Life as a composer entails deadlines but there is
flexibility in the times of day allotted to working. I began
scheduling my life around school commute times as much as
possible so I'd be prepared. It would only be until the end of
school in late May. We didn't live in the district for her school
and, if we moved to that area, bus service would be available.

After making love at my condo a few days later (the second time
we took the chance to go there), Chelsea turned to me and
hesitantly asked, "Sean, do you think girls doing sex stuff
together is, like, sick?"

I responded. "I don't think so at all, Darlin'. Like most guys, I
think the idea of girls making love to each other is very sexy  
it's even sexier if the guy gets to watch," I added with a little
snicker. "For some reason, the same doesn't apply in my mind to
guys being sexually involved  it's one of those double standard
things." 

"Awesome! Um, have you ever watched girls together?

"I've never watched it in person, but I've seen porn videos with
girl on girl action. Why do you ask?"

"Well... Amy caught me with my vibrator," she said bashfully.  I
started to react and she quickly added, "Don't worry. I told her
one of the older girls that, like, wasn't at Hope House any more
had given it to me... She went to take a shower and I needed to,
um, cum. We can't lock the door, and she, like, ran back in after
a few minutes because she forgot her shampoo. I was sooo
embarrassed!"

"I bet you were. You need to be more careful, Darlin'."

"I know... I'm sorry. I didn't even finish; I just put it away...
Anyway, she took her shower and we, like, talked about it when
she came back. She told me she, uh, plays with herself, too.
After lights out we talked about sex more. She told me her uncle
used to, like, do stuff with her, and she misses it. They started
when she was nine, and, um, her Daddy never knew. She used to
suck his willy, and he licked her and, like, did her in her butt
sometimes. I want to do that with you again, can we?"

"Maybe next time, Darlin'. You've worn me out today."

"Okay... Anyway, she told me her uncle went to jail because they
found, like, sex pics of kids on his computer at work."

"How long will he be there?"

"I think she said ten years. Anyway, after bed check, we were,
like, on my bed whispering. She wanted to try the vibrator, and
we did each other. We touched each other, too, um... nipples and
coochies. I didn't put it in her 'cause she's a virgin. When she
had sex ed last year, her daddy, um, told her she should save her
  what's that word... hymen?   yeah... She should save it for the
first time she made love with someone really special. I just used
the vibrator, like, on her nipples and button and made her cum."

"I see." Erotic images of Chelsea's intact hymen surfaced in my
mind, and I wondered what Amy's pussy looked like. There are so
many variations on the theme of vaginas...

 "Was it fun?" I asked after regaining the moment.

"Yeah, it was so awesome! The, uh, smell of her coochie really,
um, turned me on, too. It reminded me of kissing you after you,
like, lick Tina   not the same smell, but close. I wanted to lick
her, too... but I didn't."

"Well, as long as both of you enjoy it, I don't see any problem
with you girls playing with each other. Just be careful."

"Thanks, Sean. I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Chelsea." I gave her a warm hug and kiss to
reassure her.

When I saw Amy the following Saturday, I was viewing her in a
different light. I had mentally undressed her before, like I did
with most young girls those days, but knowledge of her sexual
past and recent activities with Chelsea added fuel to my
imagination. Fortunately, I covered it well. I was getting pretty
good at ogling girls without making them or their parents or
guardians feel uncomfortable. My somewhat photographic memory
made it easy. I could imprint a visual image within seconds and
review it in my mind while appearing to be daydreaming. The same
didn't apply to pages of text I read, however.

We went for a walk, and I took them to Fuzzy's for a snack. When
the topic turned to television shows I had little interest in, my
mind wandered back to fantasizing about Amy and my little nymphet
playing in the dark, and I had to surreptitiously adjust my
throbbing dick. Chelsea was sitting next to me in the booth and
noticed   letting me know with a glance and a quick smirk. I
acted as if nothing had happened and refocused on the
conversation - changing the subject during a pause. 

We took Amy back to Hope House and left again to spend a few
hours together. She wanted to get her hair trimmed, so I took her
to at a salon that accepted walk-ins first. When we left there,
we took a ride in the country just to get away from town for a
while. As we drove out of the city, Chelsea turned to me and
asked if I thought Amy was sexy. It was a loaded question, so I
thought for a moment before responding.

"Amy is very pretty, as you know, and I do think she is sexy  
since I've experienced how sexy you are, but I'm not available
because I'm in love with you. It's like admiring a beautiful
actress I know I'll never even meet, except I know Amy. I'll
never do anything to break your heart, Darlin'."

"I love you, too, Sean... Um, we kissed and licked each other
last night in, like, a sixty-nine." 

My dick throbbed and thickened at the image. She reached over to
caress it through my pants urging it to full strength and said,
"Brock likes that. Maybe I can ask Amy if we can, like, show you
how we do it some time."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Darlin'. As much as I would
love to see you two together, we have to be very careful or my
life could turn into a nightmare. She doesn't know about us, does
she?"

"No. I haven't said anything. She just knows you are a friend's
father who is going to, like, adopt me."

"Good. Please don't tell her, Chelsea. I'm not confident we can
trust her with my life. She did tell you about her uncle."

"I won't, Sean. I know..."

"So, did you like licking her pussy?"

"Sure. It was awesome! Girls know, like, what feels best, um  
but you do, too - and she sure tastes good. Maybe I can, uh, lick
her some time and, like not wash my face or brush my teeth so you
can taste her."

"That's an erotic idea," I responded with conspiratorial grin. 

Chelsea insisted on detailing things they'd done the night
before, so my hard-on wasn't receding. I asked if she wanted to
go back to my place for a while, and she looked around to see if
anyone could see us. She smiled and squeezed my erection. Then
she pulled off her shoulder strap, leaned over to fish my dick
out of my jeans, (with some difficulty due to its condition), and
went down on me as I drove along. That was something I'd never
experienced before. We were in a rural area, so I didn't stop her
or pull over. The novelty of what was happening coupled with her
silky soft lips and tongue and superb oral talents had me
shooting a load into her demanding mouth within minutes. She
hadn't let a drop escape since her initial attempts at the act,
so there was no mess to clean before she tucked it away and
zipped me up. Keeping my focus on the road traveling along at
fifty miles per hour through an orgasm wasn't easy, but it sure
was fun! 

We continued our trip and stopped for a soda and a snack in a
small town about a half an hour later.  When we got back on the
road, she told me she wanted us to make love without a rubber
since her period was due again. I did the mental math and she was
right; she was as safe as she could get. We didn't have time to
go to my condo. I found a place to park on an overgrown dirt road
into the woods off of the highway. We only had to go around a
curve about thirty yards in to lose sight of the roadway. She was
wearing a skirt, so she just slipped her panties off while I
removed my jeans and boxers outside of the car. It was pretty
cold for a moment there until the heater warmed us up in the back
seat. We kissed and played for a while in the before I mounted
her. What we did that day was more sport fucking than tender
lovemaking. Finally, I filled her suckling vagina as she climaxed
for her third time. I hadn't had sex in a vehicle since I was a
teen, so it was an exciting adventure for both of us. Riding her
bareback added to the pleasure, and the risk of discovery,
however slight, gave the experience an extra edge. While
reflecting on it later, I cautioned myself against getting sloppy
with our safety. We had way too much to lose.

I kept napkins left over from fast food purchases in my car. We
cleaned up with a few of them and she used another to pad her
panties as we dressed. Then we opened the windows for a few
minutes as we hit the road to blow out the musky odors. A stop at
a convenience store on the way back allowed her to do a better
job of cleaning up, and I washed my face and hands while we were
there. I also bought some mints and an air freshener for the car.
By the time we got back to Hope House there were no outward clues
to our raunchy behavior. Amy greeted Chelsea excitedly as we
walked in, and I said my goodbyes a few minutes later.

<1st attachment end>


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