The Girl Written by: Jem Aura (C) Chps 21-25
----> TWENTY ONE <---- Tuesday afternoon I picked Polly up from school.
We stopped by the bank and the grocery store on the way home. Polly
wondered why I had bought such expensive meat (filet mignon) and fresh
asparagus, and an expensive bottle of wine. I knew she didn't remember the
significance of this particular Tuesday. But when we pulled in through the
gate and there was nothing where our Princess Polly had been, she did a
double take and then she remembered, dancing in her seat and screaming "Oh
my God, It's in the water! Where? Why didn't you tell me?" "Because I
love to see you get all excited." Laughing out loud at her antics. Seeing
the Princess in the water for the first time, moored comfortably at the end
of the pier, she stopped, holding her breath with her hand over her mouth.
She glanced from me to her twice and then said, "She's beautiful." Once on
board, she ran around the deck three times in awe of the water. "It's so
weird! The ground use to be way down there and now the water is right
here." "Yeah, and no more God Damned ladder! Let's eat!" I yelled. I set
the groceries down by the grill, lit it, and started ripping into the
filets. Polly dug in the sack for the asparagus and disappeared below.
Pulling the cork I poured two glasses of wine and waited for Polly to come
up so we could toast our success. I sat back and breathed in the moment
with all of my senses. The sun was setting across the Gulf (being on the
west coast of Florida). Gulls were circling overhead. The halyards were
clinking against the aluminum mast in response to the gentle swaying of the
rollers that snuck through the gap in the break-water. After several
minutes I wondered what could be taking Polly so long. All she had to do
was put on some water to boil. I thought about going below but then I
worried I would get distracted and burn the filets. So I leaned back and
closed my eyes. The motion of the soft waves brought memories of the
Sweetheart swimming back into my consciousness. I had missed her more than
I knew. The sensation of being afloat made me more contented than I had
been in a very long time. "Where is she?" I asked myself. Turning the
steaks I gulped the last swig of wine from my glass and slid down the
ladder. "Polly!" I yelled.... nothing. Hearing something I headed
forward. The door to the head was closed. I knocked. "Polly? are you in
there?" "Oh, Mitch, I'm... bleeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh..... I'm sick.
bleeeeaaaahhhhh.... I think I got the flu." she said, crying and sniffing
pitifully. "No, no sweetheart, you're seasick. It's okay, open up." The
door clicked and she stood there green, her legs wobbling. I grabbed the
small trash can and a towel and escorted her to her bed. She wretched again
before we got there, but I soon had her lying on her back with her eyes
closed. "It's important to close your eyes when you feel it coming on. It
makes a big difference right away." But before she could have even slightly
benefited from it, she threw up on herself. "Here, take the trash can.
I'll be right back." I went and rummaged for some Dramamine, soaked a
couple of washcloths with warm water, grabbed another towel, and one of her
nightie's. I peeled off her school uniform shirt and began washing her
face and chest with one of the washcloths. Unbuttoning her plaid skirt I
noticed that it felt wet. I sniffed my fingers - it was urine. I stared
down at her in pity. But it was immediately obvious that she was already
feeling better having had her eyes closed for a few minutes. "Sweetheart,
you peed when you threw up. Get cleaned up and dressed for bed and I'll
tuck you in." I got up. "Hmm? Oh, okay." She said weakly. I have to check
on the meat. I'll be right back. When I returned she hadn't moved.
"Polly? are you still alive?" "Mmm Hmm." she said in affirmation. She had
covered her eyes in the crook of one of her arms, her bare chest still
exposed. I sat on the bed beside her and stared long at her breasts, never
having had the opportunity to study them closely before. I had been in the
habit of not staring at her chest during our snuggle sessions, afraid she
would see me. But now I could. She was exquisite. "Polly honey, you need
to get cleaned up. Do you think you can eat something?" She shook her
head. "I'm afraid to open my eyes." I sat there silently studying her,
taking advantage of the opportunity, caressing the arm that was draped
across her stomach. her very small breasts were perfectly symmetric. They
always had the same shape whether she was standing, sitting, or lying down.
- Except that now she had one of her arms stretching up across her eyes
which distorted the one, flattening it out slightly. Her nipples were very
pale and small, like the size of nickels, but they puffed out all around
the edges. I could not help but wonder what it would feel like to suck on
them - and then I was angry at myself for doing so. "Sweetie, you'll get
used to the motion, the sooner you force yourself to do things, the quicker
you will get used to it." Polly shook her head slowly as I spoke. "Please,
can't you help me?" I could sense some mischievousness in her tone. I felt
exposed while cleaning her chest, because she forced herself to watch me
while I did even though it made her sick. And now she wanted the whole
sponge bath thing. God I wanted it too. I was getting weaker and weaker
every time she appeared from the shower topless. I knew I was in trouble a
couple of weeks prior when I had been out very early working on the hull
and realized that she would be emerging any minute. I dropped everything
and positioned myself on the couch as if I had been there all along. And I
always encouraged her to crawl into my lap to be held each and every
morning. Once I had purposely not been wearing a shirt so that I could
feel her soft skin on mine as she curled up for her morning caress. I
loved her dearly, and my affections were growing and changing ever since
she had begun flirting and acting strange. Now I was becoming her prisoner
- doomed to do her bidding regardless of how much I might protest, because
in the end she knew how I felt, and what I wanted. There are certain
communications that go unsaid and unacknowledged, body language that is
built right in to our brains. We knew - and yet we didn't. "Remember that
first day?" I asked. "When I had to wash you? I always wondered why you
let me do that. I mean it almost seemed like you wanted me to, because now
I know how smart and capable you are. You knew how to give yourself a
bath." "I remember you caught me when I slipped. You held on to me so
tight because I was so afraid, but I couldn't move at all the way you
squeezed me so tight. That's what I dream in the morning when you hold me.
It feels so wonderful." She said those last words with intense feeling,
stretching out each syllable. "And you won't feel weird being totally
naked, even though you're older now?" I asked, getting up and opening her
drawers looking for clean panties. But I didn't hear an answer. "Well?
Will you?" "No." she said. "I shook my head no, you must not have been
looking." She said. I knew..., she knew...., we knew.... even so, I was
feeling gruff and frustrated. If I had taken time to really think about it
I would have figured out why. If I had to rank which I would rather have,
the following would be the order from best to worst 1) Make love to Polly -
because our society magically changed its attitude about it all of a sudden
- without any guilt or fear. 2) Be Polly's loving father and hero
pretending we have no physical attraction towards one another, and staying
clothed when in each other's presence. 3) Be forced to bathe her and hold
her naked body and look at her breasts - without being able to do anything
about it. That's why I was feeling gruff and frustrated - knowing I was
down at number three on the list. "What's wrong?" She asked sheepishly,
sensing my mood. "Nothing. I just wish you wouldn't make me do this." "I'm
not making you." "Yes you are. I can tell you are feeling better. So why
not do it yourself?" Polly went quiet for a long while. I sat back down
beside her with her clean panties in my hand. She hadn't moved at all, her
arm still draped over her eyes. I gave in to temptation again and studied
her breasts, nervously fidgetting with her clean panties and noticing this
time how perfect and milky smooth her skin was - not a blemish to be seen
anywhere. Polly said, "I don't like that pair. I never wear them. See if
you can find The Simpson's pair, with the girl playing the saxophone." I
froze - looking closely at her arm over her eyes. There was a thin black
shadow at the bridge of her nose. Polly giggled seeing stunned reaction. I
sat calmly sat back, contemplating what I had just done and what she must
have seen. I had no-one to blame but myself, but for whatever reason, I
got mad. I felt foolish, embarrassed, and manipulated, and I was suddenly
pissed off. "Here, here's a couple of Dramamine pills. Chew them up and
don't choke." I said, and went topside. I ate alone and after dinner went
about firing up the engines for the first time, checking the engine cooling
systems and generators. By the time I was ready to close up shop, Polly
was asleep for the night. I tried to remember the last time she had gone
to bed without getting a goodnight kiss... I couldn't. ----> TWENTY TWO
<---- The weeks drifted by slowly. Tony referred me to another marina
where there were two ship owners needing structural repairs. I must have
been driving him a little crazy not having enough to keep me busy while
Polly was at school, so now I had a job to go to. I picked her up on my
way home each afternoon and we would stop by the same little market that
stocked local seasonal vegetables and had a small butcher shop. We fell
into a routine back at the boat where I would sit on deck grilling the meat
and drinking beer while Polly fussed down below with everything else. The
days this time of year were usually warm with infrequent winter bluster and
the nights were very cool and breezy. I began feeling the urge to put the
Princess through her paces, to see how sweet of a sailer she was. But it
was easy to chicken out one more weekend. For several days after that
traumatic night with Polly's seasickness, relations between the two of us
had remained strained. She never spoke of what she had seen in my face
peeking out from under her arm while I leered at her body. It wasn't like
Polly to let things just lay there unresolved. Perhaps she felt it wasn't
that big of a deal, I mean, it's not like I actually fondled them. Perhaps
it was because she thought I wouldn't realize how clearly she could read
everything on my face. Or she thought I thought she couldn't see my face,
not being in the same line of sight as the panties. "She's been dwelling
in my thoughts so much I'm analyzing every little nuance." I thought. "One
might think I was a... I don't know... you'd think I was a love sick
teenager doting over the emotional whims of a steady girl - or married, or
maybe just a concerned parent - but is this what a parent would be worrying
about?" Polly had been dealing with a daily dread of coming home, becoming
queasy and sick shortly after she set foot aboard. True to her strength of
spirit, she didn't really complain much and faced it down each day, but I
had finally insisted she see the doctor to get some prescription medication
that might serve her better than the over-the-counter Dramamine. It was a
well known fact from centuries of sailing the high seas that any of a
variety of opiates, derived from the coca leaf, had amazing results on
seasickness, but were also highly addictive. We got her some medicine and
it had an immediate and drastic effect, basically opening flood gates that
I did not know even existed. When I say that it had an immediate and
drastic effect, I' m not necessarily referring to the seasickness. Oh, it
did help that, no doubt, but the really dramatic effect was in loosening
Polly's tongue. She jabbered on and on about everything and anything,
always ending up on sexual topics, quite unaware of how high the medicine
was making her feel. The first subject out of her mouth was her breasts,
and "would you I like to see them again?" In her drugged state, I could not
get angry or even the least bit frustrated at her antics, which meant there
was no easy escape for me. Because that is exactly how I had used the
anger before - to escape from her, and myself. So I entertained her in
conversation, usually just asking leading questions and then letting her
vent her passions and fantasies to me, hoping and praying I would remain
immune to her. She often crept into (or across) my lap with her eyes
closed (the medicine wasn't perfect, and she closed her eyes whenever
possible) while she explored new avenues in her mind regarding her sexual
desires and taking great pleasure in peeking out from under her eyelids to
see the blush on my face or hear the stammer in my voice as I replied or
said something to lead the conversation away. Now it was as regular as our
dinners together: She would take a pill on our way home, we would cook and
eat, and then she would pin me down into a new conversation leading ever so
predictably into sexual topics. And now with the precedent clearly set, I
couldn't very easily begin protesting. She was perfectly comfortable now
egaging me in these conversations, even though they were very lopsided with
Polly doing most of the talking. She was taking full advantage, exploring
topics with ever increasing eroticism and intimacy, every possible nook and
cranny, until she stated bluntly after a long pause of contemplation, "I
sure would like to know what it feels like. You know, having a man's thing
inside me. I think about it a lot." I had become so accustomed to
quenching my shock at what would come out of her mouth, noticing that if I
was successful in doing so, she would take a new tack and approach from a
new angle, pushing the limits of my tolerance further and further until
finally I let slip some clue to my shock and embarrassment. Only then
would she begin to tone it down, as if that were exactly what she was doing
it for. Even on this occasion, Polly having reached an all time high in
shock-factor, I didn't react immediately, and then I decided to stifle it
completely and take advantage of the situation, basically calling her bluff
- if it was a bluff. And I don't mean take advantage as a man would a
pretty girl, I mean as a father trying to teach a lesson. "Huh, well I
guess that's only natural." I said. "Everyone wonders what it will feel
like once they start fantasizing about it. But I doubt you realize what it
would really be like, you being so young." "I think I do. I mean, just
cause I'm 12 doesn't mean I can't imagine something." She said. "I don't
mean that your mind is too young, I'm talking about your body. You haven't
matured very much. Your girlfriends at school are all more physically
mature than you. I mean, it's not a bad thing, It's just that it would be
like trying to cram a big cucumber into a coin slot." Polly's eyes widened,
on the receiving end of some shock-factor for a change. After the initial
shock wore off and she tried to form an opinion about what I had said, she
realized that she had never actually tried to imagine in any detail whether
it would fit or not. She didn't know how big she could get, and she had
assumed that when she saw me naked, that that was about the size of it, but
what if she was wrong? She remembered watching some dogs mating once, that
the penis grew a lot. "Is that what he's using to indicate how big he is?"
she thought, picturing the cucumber in her mind. She had seen huge
cucumbers as well as smaller ones. Finally, after I had thoroughly enjoyed
seeing the reaction on her face to the images I had conjured up in her
mind, she asked, "So how big is it, when it's big?" "How big when it's
big?" I repeated, mocking her, "Big enough!" I said with finality. "Yeah.
But how big is it really?" She insisted. "Polly, I am not going to sit here
and describe my penis to you." "Then show me." She said very
matter-of-factly, hoping that her matter-of-factness would inspire me to
actually do it. "Oh sure, I'll just whip it out for you to look at." I
said, obviously being sarcastic. "Okay!" she said excitedly, jumping up
from my lap, responding as if it were a literal offer, again hoping that
somehow it would persuade me to actually do it. I could tell by this
behavior that she knew exactly how precariously my resolve was teetering on
the edge of a knife. "Huh." I grunted, feeling the current beginning to
sweep me downstream after fighting so hard to keep my head clear and even.
"Polly... I know you enjoy playing these games with me, testing my limits,
but it's going a little too far now. You really don't have a clue what you
would be in for. I know you'd rather me try to actually show you why you
don't have a clue, but I can't and I won't. You are going to have to take
my word for it. You aren't ready for this, even though you think you are.
It's just a game right now. You would regret it every day for the rest of
your life. It would be the end of us. Is that really what you want?"
Polly had stood up in her excitement, dancing on tiptoes and shaking out
her fingers excitedly, trying to get me to expose myself, but now she stood
there stunned as she was forced to listen, absorbing the truth and
ultimately feeling childish again. She said, "No... of course not." then
after a significant pause, "But... what if you're wrong? I mean, it
doesn't make any sense. Why would it be the end of us? It doesn't have to
be. I don't see what the big deal is. I'm gonna have sex eventually. Why
will it be so different later? I'm in love with you right now, and I don't
think I will ever be able to have sex with anyone and not be thinking about
you. It would be so cool, you know it would." I stared at her, wondering
where she got all of that tenaciousness. "You really got it bad, don't
you?" Polly nodded. "I can't just take your word for it - because it
doesn't make sense. If you can't make me understand why, then I can't
believe you. Not about this." She paused, trying to find some way to
pursue her goal further. "I guess I'll..." she trailed off, regretting her
new train of thought. "You'll what?" I asked. Polly slipped quietly inside
herself, looking around for an appropriate punishment, because as effective
as her carrots were in bringing me to that precarious edge of my resolve,
now she was looking for an appropriate stick to hit me with to send me
flying off into her arms. To my surprise she began crying. It seems my
dogged and persistent rejection of her had finally ended up hurting her
feelings. Or maybe she was simply trying to use her tears to manipulate
the situation further, an effective stick in and of itself, I couldn't
tell. But of course the tears melted me down and I pulled her back into my
arms. "Sweetheart, what is it now? Look at what you're doing to yourself.
Look, if it will help, I will explain it all to you. I won't hold anything
back. I hope you'll finally understand, it's not that I'm not attracted to
you - you know damned well I am," I pushed her away from me and tried to
mimic that hungry face as my wide eyes stared at her chest. Polly smiled
with teary eyes and choked out a laugh, showing that she knew exactly what
I meant by it. "There is a million dollars in the bank I'd like to have
too, but I don't just go in and take it. There would be consequences.
This is no different. I've told you before that people are designed, I
mean in our brains we have things going on that were put there over eons of
evolution, so that we will have sex without thinking about the
consequences. Not very long ago, I mean, yeah, thousands of years is a long
time, but we were the same as we are now, there weren't laws to make us
think about consequenses - Back then I would have forced sex on you at the
first hint that you wanted it, or maybe even if you didn't. It wouldn't
matter as long as you got pregnant. That's why those things are inside our
brains, to get you pregnant. It would only be much later, after your belly
was sticking way out that you might look back and wonder "what the hell was
I thinking?" So here's what you haven't thought about: That a man having
adult sex with a woman will want to see her in all of her glory, with her
legs spread wide open to him, so he can look closely at her vagina and
become aroused at the sight, and she would delight in doing it for him.
Those things are programmed into us also. Young girls flirt a lot, but
they almost always try to keep their legs tightly closed. I can see right
now, on your face: That would not be fun for you, huh?" Polly slowly shook
her head no. "Then, you would be expected to shove it way down your throat,
almost certainly gagging if you had never done it before, and then sucking
on it in and out, over and over, until sperm was squirting in your mouth.
Then, before you can even think about rinsing out your mouth or brushing
your teeth, that same penis will be shoved inside you, as deep as it will
go," I held up my hands to show her about how long it was, and then how big
around, "All the way in and out for as long as it takes to have another
orgasm. Then it would all start over again, probably with your butt way up
in the air, your vagina sticking out in plain view, and being rammed even
deeper and harder. It would hurt at first, and it would hurt again from
just being sore, and it would hurt later from just sitting down. About the
only thing I can think of that you might be able to look forward to would
be the hugging and kissing that would occur once it was all over." I paused
for a moment to let this sink in a little. "The fact is, if you were
really a woman, you would probably be ripping my clothes off after hearing
that, wanting to get started, because that is adult sex. It's fun for
adults and terrifying to kids. There is no pain for adults - everything
fits just fine." Polly was speechless. She was feeling a little bit
privileged being audience to such talk, but those new images did scare her
a whole lot. "Part of the problem is that you think you are in control,
that you can make things happen just the way you imagine, but the fact is,
there is a tipping point at which all of the flirting is over and the man
takes control. He becomes a bull that will not be denied. Things will end
up exactly the way they are intended, with him ramming his penis deep
inside and depositing his sperm there. That is the only reason we have
sex. Those things in our brains allow us to believe all sorts of lies about
it, but in the end, that is the only reason. Way back when there were no
laws, this would have been the time for you to become pregnant. It would
have been a nightmare for you - probably very much like being raped, and
maybe by several men. It would have been fun for them, but certainly a
nightmare for you." "So, you see, It might start out fun, playing at it for
a while without actually doing it, but eventually I would begin to be
controlled by those things in my head, and I would start manipulating you
into doing it. I don't want to hurt you Polly. I love you too much."
Polly gave me a very gratifying, sleepy smile. A very loving smile: Just
like a toddler that purposely wanders off, wanting to feel the firm yank of
a caring hand pulling him or her back from the edge of becoming lost,
testing their love. Polly felt that same deep peace of mind, all the way
down to her soul. It proclaimed me as her true one. She could feel now,
more than ever before, that Mitchell Wilkes would always do what was right
by her regardless of how far astray she drifted. It was the peace that
comes with feeling completely secure. We sat there looking at each other,
soaking in the moment of intimacy and understanding, until Polly slid back
into her fetal position on my lap and said, "Can we still snuggle sometimes
like we use to?" Ever since that evening when she saw me leering at her, I
had been avoiding those sessions as much as possible, feeling my willpower
to be much weaker knowing what she knew about my desires, and imagining how
uncomfortable and self-conscious I would be. "I will always love snuggling
with you, but you better put a shirt on from now on." "What? Awe, that'll
take all the fun out of it." She whined. "I know, it won't be the same for
me either. It's just that... shit... It's like if you are on a diet, the
last thing you want is a big glass jar full of cookies right there in plain
view. Why torture me? Those things in my brain get turned on by the sight
of a beautiful naked girl. I know it seems like I have the willpower to
just keep saying no, but I really don't. If you weren't the sweet girl I
know you to be, if you were just a little more manipulative and conniving,
you could get me to do anything. So please don't try. It really is
torture." Another long pause in our conversation left me wondering what was
going on in her mind. The stillness was continually being interrupted by
Polly's deep sighs, grunts, and squirms, all indicating some kind of
growing mental frustration. "What is it?" I asked. "Nothing-uh!" she said,
sounding bratty. "What happened? I thought we finally understood each
other. What is it now?" I asked, letting my frustration show a little.
"NOTHING-UH! I don't want to talk about it any more." she said, and then
went quiet for a long while. It was obvious that even though everything I
said was true, and it all made perfect sense, her balloon was still popped
and she was feeling many regrets forming inside of her. Finally I dared to
speak to her even after her warning. "Polly, you know I'm not against you
playing the game. It's me. I'm the one that can't handle it. Any man
that believes he can would end up having sex with you. You're damned lucky
it's me." "Oh, yeah, lucky." she said, sarcasm oozing out of everywhere.
"How can I play the game if you won't play and I can't have a boyfriend?"
she was practically screaming at this point. "Who said you can't have a
boyfriend?" I asked. "You did. You said you won't let me play the game
with anyone else. Too dangerous, you said." "Oh, I guess I did... Well, I
was right, it is too dangerous, but that was before we started talking
about it. I think if we go over all of the risks, I mean, so you really
understand what's going on, I think I could trust you with a boyfriend."
This did not fit any of the fantasies that had been charging her batteries
all this time. In fact, it stung in her mind to realize I would actually
let someone else touch her when I, the star in those fantasies, wouldn't.
Explaining the reasons would never help. If you ever find yourself
wondering why reason and logic don't get you very far in a relationship,
this is why: A woman is designed to react strongly and emotionally when the
man she adores behaves in certain ways (offering her up to someone else for
instance). She could no more shut off that intense feeling of hurt than
she could cut off her own arm. It just was. Polly jerked her head up and
bored her eyes into mine before bolting from the room and slamming the door
to her cabin. ----> TWENTY THREE <---- We had fallen out of the habit of
snuggling on the couch. But having ended the eveing on such a sour note, I
felt it might be just the thing to point out what is really imortant. I
waited for her on the couch, armed with a t-shirt. Polly came out, towel
on head, pantied but topless. She headed straight for her cabin not seeing
me sitting there in the semi twilit cabin. "Sweetheart..." I said softly.
She stopped and turned her head, keeping her breasts on the lee side of her
body, out of sight. She just stared placidly. I held up the shirt as an
invitation to join me. She studied me, and then she studied her feelings.
She made her decision, but still she stood there just staring at me at
length. Eventually she backed up slowly, took the shirt, and with her back
to me removed the towel from her head, put on the shirt, and replaced the
towel. Again she stood there looking down at me. I tugged on her arm
coaxing her for several long moments, she painfully forced herself to come
into my arms. Neither of us spoke a word as I methodically caressed all of
her favorite spots with well practiced techniques. She was late to class
and neither of us cared. It would seem strange after such an intense
emotional escapade that Polly would be even more energized to fall right
back into it - the very next night. A pill was swallowed after school,
groceries purchased, pork steaks grilled, beer sipped, vegetables steamed,
bread smothered in garlic butter toasted, dinner eaten, my shower taken,
and then: there's Polly, worming her way into owning my full attention.
"Okay, so IF I had a boyfriend, why would it be so dangerous?" I breathed
deeply and then let out a long sigh. Even though Polly was eager to dive
in, I wasn't. It takes a lot less energy to push against boundaries,
testing them, than it does to erect and maintain them. She heard the lack
of enthusiasm in my long pause and sigh, "What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing, I'm still a little exhausted from our talk last night." "I'm not.
I had a really cool day at school." "Well, tell me about that. I'm not too
tired to listen." "Okay." She said, bouncing up excitedly and positioning
herself better. She turned on the couch so that she was leaning back
against the arm trying to face me as much and possible. She then draped
her legs across my lap, tucked her hair behind her ears, and folded her
hands in her lap. "It was so awesome. I told Angie during morning recess
that you said I could have a boyfriend..." "Polly..." I interrupted, "You
shouldn't tell your friends everything we talk about...especially that.
What if she tells her parents?" "I know. I made her promise." A sheepish
look emerged on her face, somewhat guilty. "What?" I asked immediately,
knowing that look. "What happened?" "She already told some other girls.
They were teasing me when I came out of class. But the good part is they
weren't being mean, they want to be friends with me now. And there were
some boys watching me too, so I think they heard it too. But later there
was this really cute boy..." "You sounded so hopeless last night, like a
boyfriend was the last thing in the world you wanted. It only took one day
for you to change your mind?" "No. Not really. I mean he's cute and all,
but... I don't know." "What?" I asked with a cut in my voice that
indicated I was not going to let it rest. "I don't know." she whined.
"It's hard to describe..." Then she squared her shoulders and came out with
it "They're all so immature!" I chuckled slightly, "And you're not?" Polly
was indignant, "No-way! God! Everybody knows that girls mature faster,
and especially in sixth grade. It's like the worst then." Polly's eyes had
grown large. "Some of the girls in my class have bigger boobs than my
teacher." "Really, I had no idea. What, does your teacher have really
small boobs or something?" I was being sarcastic. "No." "I'm just kidding.
I've seen the girls you walk out with. From a distance they look like high
schoolers. I have to admit, Polly, I kind of knew that the boys would be
too young. I really don't like thinking about you being with a boy,
fooling around like that. It's been bothering me ever since I said it."
"It has? Really?" She asked hopefully. I was tempted to take it back by
saying "Not because I would be jealous - but because you're too young."
which would have been a lie (at least about the jealousy) , but I decided
to leave it alone. "So, do you still want me to teach you?" Polly's eyes
grew and her face slowly brightened, "Yes." she said and nodded vigorously
- and then I realized my mistake and I quickly added "What I mean is: teach
you about the risks of having sex with a boy." "Oh." she said, deflating
quickly. And then she recovered herself and smiled, saying "I thought you
meant like really teach me..." and she laughed at herself for acting so
stupid. "...I guess so. I know about aids and condoms and stuff. You
think I don't know anything, but I bet I already know what you're going to
tell me." "Maybe you do. But you don't mind if I make sure, do you?" "No."
"Okay. Well, let's see... I think I can do this fairly quickly: There's
just a few things that you need to know: First, if you don't want to get
sick or pregnant you have to plan ahead and be prepared. The problem is
that when young people have sex, it is always a spontaneous event, never
planned. Chances are neither of you will have a condom and the boy will be
trying to talk you into doing it anyway. You will probably say no, but he
won't give up. He'll promise that he will only put it in for a moment, and
he will pull it out before he ejaculates, and since you are really wanting
to try as bad as he is, you make him promise again, hope to die and all of
that, and you go ahead and let him. But you would still end up pregnant."
"Not if he did what he promised." She said. "Even if he did exactly as he
promised, you would still get pregnant. The only reason you might not is
if you were not ready, you know, if you didn't happen to be ovulating at
the time." "God, you're such a liar. Making stuff up trying to scare me
isn't going to keep me from doing it." "I hoped a simple "no" from me would
have been enough. But I guess not." I said, acting more hurt than I was.
"I didn't mean it like that you big dork. I'm saying don't just make
things up. I'm not stupid." "No, you're not. You might be the smartest
person I've ever known. But being smart cannot make up for a lack of
knowledge. Just because you don't know something or don't have experience,
doesn't make you stupid. On the other hand, even the smartest people act
stupid when it comes to sex. Do you think it might be possible that there
a few things about sex you aren't aware of? "Of course." "Okay then, don't
be so quick to call someone a liar. You should always give people the
benefit of the doubt, considering there will always be doubt." I looked at
Polly seriously to see if she was again receptive to what I needed to tell
her, but she wasn't. She was somewhat hurt due to my rough handling. "It
sounds to me like you might not be ready for this. You seem to be fighting
against the truth I am trying to tell you. Are you ready for this or
aren't you?" Polly "Polly-jized" as only Polly can, begging me to go on and
making me feel like a low-life-scum-sucking-pig for making her feel bad
enough to need to "Polly-jize" in the first place. "Okay, okay... I'll
tell you. ...a boy your age gets so excited at nudity and the prospect of
sex that he can't last but a moment before he shoots off. He probably
wouldn't even get it in all the way before he did. So, if after working up
to it for so long, anticipating the wonderfulness of it all, being so
excited to be fulfilled sexually, and then before you even realize anything
is happening, it's over. He has to pull out like he promised and you're
done. Would you be satisfied with that? Would you feel like that was
enough? Would you put your clothes back on and start doing your homework?"
I waited for her to say something. "No." She said meekly. "Well, what would
you do then?" "I guess like after a while we'd try again." "That's right.
You certainly would. So what you don't know is that there will be
thousands and thousands of sperm seeping out of his penis for up to an hour
after he ejaculates, even longer maybe. They are microscopic, and it only
takes one. There's no way to clean out the inside of his penis." I said
seriously. "Oh," she said, looking at her hands and feeling foolish. "It's
okay sweetheart, that little fact escapes everyone. Anyway, sometimes a
boy will be so embarrassed because he started ejaculating so quickly that
he will pretend he didn't: If a boy ever loses his erection during
intercourse, you can bet he had an orgasm and didn't say anything. But
some boys could care less what you might think. In that case, he might get
you to masturbate him or give him oral sex so that he will last longer
during intercourse, which actually does work, but the residual sperm will
still be there inside his penis, seeping out. Secondly, the only way to get
an STD is to have sex with someone who is sick with one. If you only have
sex with boys who have never had sex, then you can't catch one, which is a
very good reason why you should avoid older boys and men and just be with
boys your own age." Polly rolled some fuzz she had picked off the couch
between her fingers, absently pondering everything. "Do you have any sex
diseases?" she asked. "Yes, I do. I have genital herpes." "You do? What
does it do? I mean, are you sick?" She asked. Polly's love for me
immediately shone out. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, that I wasn't
the super-hero she imagined me to be, instead she showed genuine concern
for my welfare and her own wants and needs were temporarily put aside. "No
sweetheart, it's okay. I'm lucky. It's been many years since I've had any
sign of it. It's a nuisance more than anything. You don't need to worry
about me." She was relieved and I could see the tension melt away. "So how
can I protect myself from all of that?" Polly asked. "You already have."
"Huh? You haven't told me anything yet." She said confused "I've told you
what you need to know. You're smart enough to protect yourself now that
you know what the true risks are." I watched as her mind began working to
solve the problems that her fantasies would expose her to. "Oh, I almost
forgot, there is something else you should know: You shouldn't rely on
condoms. They are unreliable, they don't fit a boy's smaller penis very
well, boys hate them and will avoid using them if they can, girls don't
like them either because of all the worry and the way it ruins the mood
putting it on, and they are never available when you need them. Take
responsibility for your safety yourself. Don't leave it to the boy. There
are many other types of birth control and things you can do to make sure
you will be safe. But remember Polly, As soon as you are a little older,
many of the boys will have had sexual experiences, and you will need to
start using condoms then. Condoms really do spoil the fun, and they mask
many of the wonderful sensations of making love. That is why I want you to
experience it now, so you won't be forced to try it later without a condom
just to know what it feels like. You'll already know. So for now, let's
just keep you from getting pregnant." "You mean like the pill?" "Yeah, but
I'm not sure, at your age, if that would be best. We will have to find
out. There's new stuff coming out all of the time." I paused, trying to
remember another bullet off of my list of things I wanted to tell her.
"About the diseases, even though in 6th grade the chances of a boy having
an STD is pretty slim, you should get in the habit of examining his penis
very closely to make sure there are no blisters or scabs visible. If it
looks at all like there are blemishes or something un-natural, the best
thing is to avoid any sexual contact. But if there is no avoiding it, then
you should make him wash with an anti-bacterial soap and use a condom." "Do
you think he would let me look at it like that?" "Polly, you don't give him
a choice. You simply say that if he wants to do anything, he's going to
have to let you examine him." Polly smiled a little imagining giving her
cute boy a thorough exam. I could see her excitement building. "That's
right, it can be fun. But he might decide to examine you the same way -
which is only fair." Now Polly showed some natural misgivings. "I don't
think I could do that. I mean, get totally naked with a boy and have
lights on and everything. I always pictured being in the dark and under
the covers." "Yeah, I know. That can come later, after you know each other
better and there's no need to examine him. You know, if you find a boy you
really like, and you like sex with him, if you promise each other to not
sleep with anyone else then you can keep having sex on through high school
without worrying about diseases." I paused again, thinking. "Boy's love
oral sex. If you do it really well they don't miss the other that much.
So if for whatever reason you aren't prepared to have intercourse, knowing
how to do it will save you having to fight him off. And you shouldn't
worry about a boy seeing your body. It's the most exciting thing in the
world for guys. Just be careful if you don't intend to have intercourse.
Some boys have an instinct built into them to force you to have sex even if
you say no. Being naked in front of them when you say no might trigger it.
I mean, just be prepared to really fight him off, even if it means
pretending you will let him do it and then konking him on the head when
he's not looking. But if you think you can trust the boy, he will worship
you for letting him look at you naked. You remember about how I described
adult sex? The open nudity becomes symbolic of the trust you have for each
other. When you trust someone completely with your feelings, there is this
ultimate freedom that comes over you when you see the wonderful excitement
on his face when he looks at your body. Talk to each other, tell him how
sexy and wonderful he looks. That will prompt him to tell you as well, and
as sexy as you are he will be saying things like "You are the most amazing,
wonderful, beautiful creature in the entire universe!" But you're right
about making sweet love under the covers too. It depends on the mood. So
who is this boy you thought was so cute?" "Tyler Johnson." she said
drunkenly. "He's in Amy's class." I had forgotten that she might not have
all of her faculties, considering we were dealing with a 12 year old
adolescent girl with feel good drugs and hormones coursing through her
veins. The devil sparked in her eyes as she pictured him in her mind
again.
"Wait a second, You mean the tall boy with the long hair?" "How do you
know...?" She asked in awe of my superpowers. "I've talked to his dad a few
times, waiting for school to let out. He heard that we lived on a big
sailboat and wanted to offer his help. He wants to learn how to sail. Are
you sure you didn't know about that? This is a little too convenient for
me to believe. You know how I am about coincidences." Polly innocently
shook her head no, "I swear, I had no idea you knew his dad." "Huh. Lucky
you then." "What? Why lucky me?" she asked. "Because, it will be easy to
get together with him, we just invite him and his dad to go sailing. And
you won't have to get all embarrassed trying to break the ice with him."
Polly was staring blankly at me. "Know what I mean?" I asked. "No, why
would I get embarrassed?" "You know, it's hard to tell someone you like
them, when you don't know how they will react to it." "No it isn't. I
already did." "You did?" I asked truly shocked. "When I was waiting for Amy
at her classroom, I was looking at all the boys... because I really hadn't
looked before. When Tyler came out he saw me looking at him and I told him
I thought he was cute." "Just like that? You just blurt it out, in front
of everyone?" "Well, not exactly. My exact words were... "You are sooo
cute. Do you know how cute you are?" After a stunned pause I asked "And
what did he say?" "He said he thought I was cute too." "My God! Have you
planned the wedding yet?" "Very funny, hardy-har-har." she said ---->
TWENTY FOUR <---- We sat there on the couch for a while, finding it
difficult to continue our conversation, most other topics seeming bland
compared to where we had just been. Eventually we went our seperate ways,
snacking in the kitchen, switching out the laundry... but in a few minutes
we were back on the couch fighting for the TV remote. During the break I
had dwelt on what other topics we could talk about, finding it odd that it
was so difficult to get away from the usual titillating discussions.
Eventually I found one that I intended to pursue. "Hey Polly, do you
remember when I first found you, we were in the car and I asked you how you
chipped your teeth? You promised some day you would tell me what happened.
So, how about now?" A moments reflection and that now unfamiliar look of
pain washed over her - which sparked my memory of how she looked that first
day. I had forgotten she was ever like that, so withdrawn and supressed.
She looked inside herself for whatever strength she would require to relive
the nightmare, and then something happened, something good and exciting.
Polly's eyes lit up as she exclaimed: "Oh my God! Mitch, I forgot about my
aunt Cecilia!" "Your what?" "My aunt Cecilia! She was so nice to me, and
my momma hated her. I almost never got to see her and I loved her so much.
I wished and hoped and prayed somehow she would become my momma instead.
Oh Mitch, you gotta find her and tell her where I am. You gotta meet her!"
she said so excitedly, jumping up and pacing back and forth waving her arms
dramatically. "How could I have forgotten her for so long?" "It's no
surprise to me that you forgot about her. She was part of your old life,
and you're naturally forgetting all of it, even that one good part." I
calmed her down and had her tell me the whole story. I had been lightly
running my fingers along her arm as she did, and when Darryl Jenks entered
the story my hand stopped and I held nervously on to her forearm. By the
time Polly had told what he did, I was squeezing her arm so tightly that
she yowled in pain. "Oh, sorry Polly." I said, my anger barely controlled.
"I'm glad you weren't there." she said with big eyes, being very serious.
"You would have killed him, and you'd be in jail instead." "Go get my
laptop princess." I said. "why?" "We'll find your aunt. I promise. That
guy in St. Louis that found out all about your mom? He's really good at
this stuff. We'll send him an email." ----> TWENTY FIVE <---- The first
weekend in March was predicted to be a superb kite flying weekend. And
that meant it would be a superb sailing weekend as well. I told Polly that
she could invite some friends for an overnight cruise down the coast, as
long as her friend Tyler's father could come along as second lieutenant
(Polly being my first). When the dust from planning the cruise settled,
there were four girls (including Polly), one boy, Frank and myself on the
ship's roster. The spring so'westers were indeed blowing and it was shaping
up to be a fabulous weekend. The only hitch that occurred was when Frank
arrived with a different boy than the one that was expected: Polly's cute
boy Tyler had come down with the flu, and his father had brought his older
and drop-dead-gorgeous (to the girls) son Ryan to take his place. They
were the last one's to arrive and once they and their luggage was aboard,
the Princess began idling smoothly down the long line of slips toward the
harbor. The girls were talking excitedly as a fast moving blob of bodies
that flitted about the boat. Ryan leaned in toward his dad's ear, "Those
girls are in Tyler's class?" he said doubtfully. "I know, scary isn't it?
That one's Polly, she's more what you might expect. But the others..." He
shook his hand loosely in front of his chest and whistled. "Wow." was all
Ryan could manage to say as he gawked at them peeling off layers and
exposing various types of bikinis. The girls, each in their turn, were
stealing glances at Ryan as well. "You see that Ryan? They already have
the hots for you. That's my boy! Go get 'em tiger." "Daaaad!" Ryan cried,
knowing the girls must have heard his father. The girls giggled and
squeaked as they went below to explore. The Princess went to sea, idling
smoothly through the breakwater and out amongst the swells. It was a brisk
breeze that blew out of the southwest, which put The Princess on the reach
as she plied some distance from the shore. The sails went up and the deck
leaned over until the turquoise water was licking her gunwale. The girls
appeared on the bow out of the forward hatch and clung to each other with
nervous excitement. I immediately saw the danger and shouted at the girls
to sit down and quit walking precariously about on the wet slanted surface,
but I was too late: one of the girls slipped while my voice was still
hanging in the air and bounced off of her butt and right into the ocean.
"Frank! Keep her in sight. Don't take your eyes off of her!" I bellowed.
I was not a very experienced sailor. My two years on the Sweetheart were
mostly spent docked comfortably in my slip at the marina, procrastinating
out of fear to ever stretch my limits with her. I did run her over to
Jamaica with a convoy of cruisers but the weather was so incredibly perfect
and mild that it had little use in teaching me the ropes. Now I was in a
new and unfamiliar boat, larger and more demanding than my Sweetheart, in
seas that were more turbulent, and in winds that were capable of capsizing
us, and I was so preoccupied with trying to appear in control, and so
accostomed to living in The Princess rather than sailing her, that I forgot
to dole out the PFD's. Now I had to pray the girl could swim and that we
wouldn't lose her. The Princess had a very tall mast and a prodigious
mainsail and genoa. I couldn't just turn her around. We were on a reach
and I needed to bring her into the wind and then calculate a tack across to
intercept her. But then I thought better of it. "Ryan! Take the wheel!
Point her straight into the wind!" Ryan bounded up to the wheelhouse and
seemed up to the challenge. I started the engines and gave her enough
throttle to make sure she would steer. The sails were shivering and
complaining loudly as I ran to take them in. The Genoa reefed herself
automatically at the flip of a switch, but the main I had to wrestle onto
the boom and strap down. Once it was down far enough that it wouldn't
carry away, I yelled at Frank, "Do you still have her?" Frank pointed not
taking his eyes off of her. "Ryan! steer where your father is pointing!"
The girl was soon in plain sight, wide eyed and paddling like a duckling so
hard that her shoulders were out of the water. Frank hoisted her aboard so
forcefully that she landed lightly on her feet. No one said a word about
the incident, but I noted that from that moment on everyone of their own
accord was wearing a life vest and holding on to something while on deck
for the remainder of the cruise. I also noticed that when the excitement
was over, Ryan complained about feeling sick and Polly quickly came to his
rescue with one of her pills. Then it dawned on me that the other girls
must have been stoned from her pills when the 'girl overboard' occurred.
It made sense, and I decided to mention, at some convenient moment, that
she should swear her friends to secrecy about the pills. I marvelled at
how quickly everything could spin out of control. Once everything had
settled down and Frank and I had opened our second beer, Polly shouted
across the deck "Mitch, we wanna sun bathe with our tops off. Is that
okay? We won't go..." My mouth came open but Frank spoke up quickly saying
"Sure you can! no problem, you girls can do what ever you want." Polly
disappeared behind the cabin satisfied that Frank's permission held the
same weight as mine. I will have to teach him (and her) about the chain of
command. Ryan gave us both a worried look, wondering what it would mean for
him. His dad quickly solidified his fear by elbowing him in the ribs and
saying, "Go ahead Ryan, go take a look. Just remember to report back to
your poor old dad. Alas, if I were but a young lad again..." he said
intentionally sounding like a sea dog sailor and laughing as loud as one.
"Forget it dad, God they're like in 6th grade!" "Oh, so 8th grade makes you
a man of the world? You know, you'll figure out sooner or later, when it
comes down to it, a breast is a breast is a breast. The only ones that
aren't worth looking at are the old ones that are all saggy. And by the
way, when you're 82 years old, they will be 80, so big deal! You gotta
catch your thrills when they fall in your lap. It ain't no crime to look
for God's sake. I'm getting worried about you boy. Don't you like girls?"
"Yes, you know I do..." Ryan said respectfully, but then turning to me,
"He's just kidding around, he's always trying to embarrass me." turning
back he punched his father hard in the arm. Frank, taken totally by
surprise started dancing around shaking out his arm. Apparently Ryan had
hit a nerve. I wanted to say to Frank that the girls were high on a
prescription anti-seasickness drug that had the noted effect of increasing
sexual promiscuity, but I could hear him asking: "and how did you find out
about the drugs effects?" with a wink and a nudge in my ribs. No, I
couldn't very well say anything. Just like dirty weather at sea, I will
just have to steer as wide as I can and weather the storm. I called Ryan
back to the helm and gave him a quick lesson in sailing. Eventually I was
satisfied that he could safely keep us on our current tack without capping
us over. I quickly dove below and coming up to the forward hatch I knocked
on it. The hatch opened and Polly stood there in all her glory squinting
into the darkness. There were excited voices behind her and she told them
it was her dad. "Hey, put your top on and come down here. I need to talk
to you." After she had descended the ladder, happy and as innocent as an
angel she said, "Yeah?" But when her eyes adjusted and saw my face, she
took a step back and crossed her arms. "It's alright sweet-stuff, I'm not
mad. I just want to..." I took her arm and pulled her away from the hatch
where we could both hear the other girls shushing each other, trying to
hear what was going on. Whispering I continued, "...I just want to tell
you that those pills are making you all a little crazy, especially them." I
said, indicating the other girls. "You've gotten used to them. Their
parents would probably be very upset if they found out - either about the
pills or the topless sunbathing, and especially about Trish falling in
without a life jacket. If her parents find out everything that has
happened, everything I just mentioned, I might be going to jail. And when
you ask me if you can do something, and someone else answers, that is not
permission to do it. You are smart enough to know all of this already. I
shouldn't have to tell you - which makes me think those pills are affecting
your judgement more than you know. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Polly nodded, not sure if she should make some kind of a stand considering
that I sure sounded mad to her. "So I want you to tell your friends that
I, the captain of the ship, did not give permission to get topless, and if
they want to avoid walking the plank or being lashed to the mast to be
flogged, they will maintain the appearance of decent and respectable young
girls." Polly opened her mouth but I quickly went on, "And you will somehow
make them swear, upon your life, that they won't tell about the
life-jackets, or Trish falling in, or the pills... And speaking of, where
are they?" Now she was defiant: face aghast and hands on hips she stared at
my hand that demanded delivery of the bottle of pills. "They are addictive
Polly. They are made from the same stuff that your mother is hooked on."
That set her back. Doubt washed over her face as she considered. After a
moment's further thought she dutifully marched to her cabin and delivered
them up. As Polly began to climb the ladder (after I had picked her up and
held her in my arms and kissed her face a few times to reassure her that I
was not mad at her) the Princess's bow rose to an extreme angle, yawed and
heeled uncomfortably, and then settled down with a strong jolt. Sea spray
rained in through the hatch. Polly was flung aside and nearly lost her
grip on the ladder. I plucked her off and quickly ascended to see what was
going on. Standing on the top step and looking aft, I could see a large
rogue swell as it danced away. As a matter of course, I scanned the
horizon for any more troubles: All was well. Then my eyes fell onto the
bodies that lay sprawled out on the deck. They were wet from the spray.
Two were facing away and had their eyes closed, one had her hand as a visor
looking at me and slowly, very slowly and deliberately, covered herself
with her free arm. She smiled, and then uncovered herself, letting her
head fall back again. "It's the drugs." I thought. She's was undoubtedly
stoned the way Polly was that first time. The cool spray and heaving of
the deck didn't disturb them at all. They could be babes to the slaughter
and they wouldn't have a care. I also thought how precisely correct Frank
was in his dissertation about breasts - they were incredibly alluring
despite the fact that they were on 6th graders. Polly slapped my leg to get
me off the ladder. When she emerged I pointed out how stoned her friends
were. "Look at 'em, they don't even try to cover themselves up with me
standing here. Make sure they put their tops back on." At the sound of my
voice the girls roused and sat up, reaching sluggishly for their bikini
tops. Polly's voice faded away as I went back to the wheel. "I am sooo in
trouble you guys, you gotta swear you won't..." Late that afternoon I went
below and checked our GPS position and the tide tables. We were near
Manatee Bay, a small lake separated from the Gulf by a narrow strand. The
satellite photo from Google Earth showed that the strand had no roads or
trails visible, and that there was a deep enough anchorage not too far from
the beach.