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Special_1.txt
Special Needs Lovers - Part 1 of 8 (Special_#.txt)
- Moving Away From the Big City
- The Harrison House and a Supportive Caregiver
- Twisted Minds and Broken Bodies
- Debbie and Tammy
Mg Mm
Cons, Rom, Pett, Extr Pedo, Oral, Pedo, NC
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Loving 'special needs' children wasn't something I expected I'd ever do,
but found I wasn't able to resist after my heart was stolen from me,
accepting my task with aplomb. Finding damaged angels in an orphanage
that was little more than a refuse container and last stop of an
extensive child prostitution network shocked me. But it didn't deter me
from eventually giving five of them a safe home and only one loving
'daddy' to have fun and grow up with.
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Having lived in large cities most of my adult life I was used to all
the conveniences and luxuries that were welcomed, appreciated and
easily taken for granted. 24 hour grocery stores, gas stations and all
sorts of boutique shops that fulfilled every whim and desire made what
might have been considered a basic staple to some a truly comfortable
existance to me. That wasn't EVEN including the basic necessities of
cable TV, DSL, fast food restaurants on almost every corner and what
was to be considered the utmost of affluent society, at least a half
dozen gentlemens' clubs and escort services within a half hour's drive
topping off the list of adult male requirements.
Relocating to a small town wasn't something that I necessarily NEEDED
to do, but found out the hard way that in order to preserve whatever
sanity I still possessed, it proved to be one of the more intelligent
things I'd decided that year. It also helped me to adjust to a more
sedate and less hectic existence, the constant pace of hour long
traffic jams, road rage and being cut off by someone with a faster foot
on the accellerator having less appeal as daily life went on.
It took no less than one week after I relocated for me to miss how easy
it used to be to walk a block or two for a late night snack or a short
drive for a few minutes to get a beer at whatever hour I chose and have
a partially or completely naked buxom beauty snaking up to work me over
for a twenty dollar bill.
The rather quaint old town of two thousand was a real stretch for a man
like me, a human male ready and willing to service any beautiful woman
at the drop of a tiny pair of lacy panties or sheer stockings. This
place was more likely to have an after church social with 'tons' of
older women, than a midafternoon happy-hour beer call with bevies of
voluptuous naked twenty year old angels serving a room full of lonely
or frustrated married men whatever could be consumed without anyone
objecting.
Consider what kind of adjustment that must have been for a mid thirties
white male, horny enough to wanker off for an hour straight without
missing a stroke, virile enough to work two women to orgasm all evening
and STILL have time to catch a late night rebroadcast of last week's
football game at the local beer joint.
A whole month went by after settling into my new lifestyle before the
constant ringing of car and truck traffic, cell phones and meaningless
yammering in my ears fell away. I didn't notice how much I could hear
again until one quiet evening when all that I could discern was a soft
breeze shifting the gossamer curtains in the window of my upstairs
bedroom back and forth. It was THEN that I knew I had made the right
decision to settle down and not try to cram as much life out of a
single day as I could.
Living in Sattlerville was having a wonderfully beneficial effect on
me, my attitude changing dramatically. When I started getting out of
bed before the sun came up, carrying a cup of hot coffee to the front
porch and sitting on my wooden swing along the front of my house, I was
hooked and I knew it. It seemed strangely paradoxical that I'd want to
hear silence rather than the loud thumping modern music of a
high-powered amplifier at a stylish strip joint.
There was more than one occasion that I was greeted by the paperboy as
he rode past on his antiquated bicycle.
Yes, paper-BOY!
Not some money grubbing adult flying down the street in his SUV,
tossing a paper in each empty driveway as he flew through the
neighborhood at forty or fifty miles an hour on his way to his regular
day job.
Instead of hanging out at 'The Palace Club' or 'Candy & Company' late
in the day, sipping a bourbon or chugging a beer, I often found myself
chatting with an older man or elderly couple some time before nine in
the morning at the local eatery called Charlie's just down the street
from my house, sipping a plain cup of black coffee instead of a double
latte with cinnamon and an extra shot of vanilla or chocolate liqueur.
It was during one of my before-nine-in-the-morning visits at that
friendly food hangout that I found out about an annual event taking
place at the Harrison Placement House just north of town. Every year,
just about three weeks before Santa Claus came 'round, the 'House' as
the locals would call it, would have a fund raising event put on by the
resident children, each of them auctioning off all the crafts that they
had created during the last year. The proceeds would be used to fund
the childrens' meager personal needs beyond the more basic
requirements, their skills affording them slightly more entertainment
during the long and lonely months while they waited for someone to
adopt or even share a small portion of their lives.
With nothing else to occupy my calendar on that Saturday afternoon, it
seemed a pleasant and innocent enough of a distraction, so I dressed as
nicely as I could, including one of my best $1000 suit and tie
combinations and made my way the four miles North of town to the
'House', following the directions told to me by one of the locals.
What I saw as I drove up could have been used in a traditional black
and white movie with Jimmy or Cary as the lead character. There before
me was a three story mansion converted to an orphanage, including a
wide driveway through a large stone gate and a well defined gravel
drive covered in a thick layer of crushed snow, the flat surface
leading up to the front door in the middle of the house.
Both sides of the driveway were filled with every make and model of
American made car, most of the locals preferring to buy from one of the
'Big Three' rather than trust their travels to some 'fer-inn' rice
burner. With my shiny black four wheel drive, four wheel independent
suspension, 255 horse power, top of the line Honda Ridgeline RTL neatly
parked about halfway between the gated entrance and the front door, I
ambled down the packed white drive enjoying the sound of the snow as it
crunched and creaked beneath my feet, huge flower sized snowflakes
quietly drifting down from the steel gray sky above.
Once through the entrance beyond the hand painted 'Welcome - Come On
In' sign, I was greeted by a rather rotund and extremely jovial woman,
looking more like someone's own gramma than the proprietor and foster
mother to a houseful of as yet unseen children.
"Welcome Sir. Welcome! Come right on in. We're so pleased to have
you come and visit with us on this special occasion. My, don't YOU
look dashing and dapper in that smartly outfitted suit? You'll
certainly be breaking a few hearts tonight!"
I was beginning to wonder what I had gotten myself into. I didn't get
much of a chance to consider going back out through the tall wooden
door before she continued.
"I do hope that you'll grace us with your presense at the silent
auction later this afternoon."
"Yes Ma-am! I'm looking forward to contributing any way I can."
"Wonderful, WONDERFUL! You just go right on in to the front room and
meet all of our talented children and see the crafts that they worked
on ALL year. Each of the items are clearly marked by number and the
child who crafted it will be nearby to tell you ALL about how it was
created. You may use this pad of paper and this special code which
uniquely identifies you and signify which item you'd like to bid on.
Write down how much you'd be willing to offer for any or all of the
items displayed and be sure to slip it into the big gold box near the
door before you adjourn to the dining room for refreshments. Be sure
to keep your personal code handy when the bids are tallied and finally
called out. If you'd prefer to remain anonymous during the awards
ceremonies, then please do so. Many of our supporters choose to reward
the Harrison Placement House a day or so AFTER the bidding has
concluded so they don't bring any undo focus on who their favorite
artist is. If you have any questions at all during your visit, please
don't hesitate to ask. My name is Martha Harrison and you may call on
me any time."
"Thank you Ms. Harrison . . . "
"Oh, PLEASE, Martha!"
"Thank you Martha. You've been most helpful. I'm sure I won't be able
to leave this evening without an ARMFUL of beautiful creations. I'm
Terence Halprin, or just Terry to my close friends."
"Thank you so much Terence . . . "
"TERRY?"
"Certainly . . . Terry. You make yourself right at home and spend as
much time visiting any of my children as you'd like."
Just behind her was a rather impressive wooden box with a slot at the
top, looking like a donation box. Feeling quite generous, I reached
into my pocket, fished out two twenties and tried to think of a five
foot nine inch naked woman with six inch spiked heels, pushing her full
thighs against both of my ears and plying her skills as deftly as she
could to get even more if possible. At least THIS money would be put
to some positive benefit rather than help pay for another silicone
implant operation.
"May I Martha?"
"Why CERTAINLY Terry! You're very kind to do that. Thank you very
much!"
Once the folded bills disappeared into the dark recesses of the large
oak box and with a gramma tight squeeze around my middle, Martha
enveloped me in her soft form and kissed me on the cheek, turning me
once we separated toward the front room that she mentioned earlier.
It didn't take more than half a dozen steps before I was through the
doors into a large room filled with lots of adult couples and younger
smiling faces. It looked as if someone had asked me to participate in
a Saturday afternoon social, lots of soft conversations being carried
on, hints of joyful giggles and even a few soft laughs sneaking out
from the younger of the participants. My presence felt very welcomed
as a few of the adults and every child that saw me enter smiled toward
me.
My entrance into the room was keenly noticed by a VERY friendly young
woman about sixteen or so, her round face, squinting eyes and bright
smile enough to light the soul of ANY grouch for a thousand miles. The
unmistakable and characteristic features of her face immediately
informed me that the 'House' wasn't an orphanage in the traditional
sense. It was more a refuge for children with special needs,
developmental challenges and quite a few physical disabilities.
"Halloooow! Biii naaame isshh Nndebbeeee. Whaaasss yuuurs?"
It was a little difficult for me to discern what her name was from the
strongly distorted manner in which she was speaking, but her
handprinted name badge clued me into how I was to address her.
"Hello Debbie! My name is Terry. You're very pretty. How are YOU
Honey?"
Debbie instantly blushed and leaned hard into me, looking as if she
craved a gentle hug. I was hesitant to give her one, in the event it
might be looked upon as being a rather inappropriate act by someone
that had only recently moved into town and hadn't yet been properly
introduced. To spare me from making a tremendous social blunder after
having only recently arrived, Martha walked up behind me and whispered
without Debbie seeing or hearing her.
"Debbie likes a nice hug when she meets new friends."
My arms reacted immediately, encircling the young teen and gently
holding her to my chest for a few seconds. Without any hesitation,
Debbie thrust her arms around me as tightly as she could and gave me a
rather ardent embrace, the side of her face pressed firmly to my body
and filling me with a renewed sense of acceptance.
The innocent little angel truly had no idea what this sort of physical
demonstration would mean anywhere else, her warm body, gentle cooing
and soft moans enough to stir my blood for a few seconds. With my
heart pounding in my chest and my woody firm enough to make ANY of my
previously entertained lady friends happy for about three hours, it was
time to change the venue or I'd be spending the next five to twenty in
the county hoosgow. It wasn't easy to peel my chest ornament away from
my body but I was finally able to wrench the love magnet off of me and
toward her display of crafts.
Debbie showed me her version of a 3-D paper doll, a painting of a
sunrise and a small ceramic bowl with a thick hoop of material for a
handle that she fashioned by hand and painted before it was fired hard
as stone. What made the craft so unique was the oddly colored array of
features emblaisoned all over the periphery, her awareness of how the
heat would affect the oxidation process lacking. No matter! It still
looked nice enough to hold a fair measure of hot coffee.
As soon as the next and much more familiar visitor was through the
entry door behind me, Debbie was quickly torn from my presence,
disappearing from my side in a blur. She was heartily hugged by one of
her favorite visitors, obviously one of the locals. Her chubby body
immediately produced a high pitched squeal when the older man lifted
her from the floor in his arms, his large hand tugging her midthigh
blue pleated skirt all the way up the back of her legs, exposing her
plump round panty covered bum to everyone behind her.
It was apparent that Debbie was all too familiar with the manner in
which she was being greeted, since nobody else in the room seemed to be
even SLIGHTLY interested in what I had seen or heard. Once her feet
were returned to Terra Firma, Debbie practically dragged the older
fellow toward her crafts so she could give HIM her practiced speech.
To grant them both unrestricted access to her crafts, I moved to the
side and carefully watched as the older fellow held her snugly to his
body, her face just as bright as when I had greeted her. I had no idea
if she greeted EVERYONE this way or only me and this particular older
guest.
With my nerves still quite shaken, it was time to meet the other
children and see what, if ANYTHING I wouldn't be able to live without
or run my hands over before the day was done.
The CRAFTS, not the children!
Each of the other residents in the huge formal parlor seemed to have a
different emotional, physical or psychological impairment to contend
with, but ALL of them seemed so happy to be there that none of MY
emotional hangups bothered any of them in the slightest.
There was this one lovely little waif that looked to have absolutely
nothing wrong with her, until I walked up to her display area. Instead
of yet another deftly crafted work of physical prowess, there was only
a small sign that listed a number of musical pieces that she was
offering to play at a private recital for the highest bidder.
She sat perfectly still, looking around the room and seeming to pay
attention to everyone else except me. When I made a little noise in
front of her, she finally moved, shifting her face toward me but not
looking directly into my eyes.
"Hi! My name is Tammy. What's yours?"
"Hi Tammy. My name is Terry."
"Hi Terry. I'm blind."
If she could have seen my face, she would have been able to discern at
least forty changes in color from slightly tanned to a brilliant
crimson. It was as if I had stumbled into her bedroom while she was
preparing for bed, my nervous gaze quickly dropping from her face. In
spite of MY inability to contend with how she'd introduced herself,
Tammy seemed very calm and happy, her face so innocent and unflinching
gaze able to break down whatever strength I might have claimed.
After recovering from my nervousness, Tammy told me that her parents
abandoned her at the local medical clinic when they found out their
diaper clad infant was completely blind, Mrs. Harrison taking her in
as soon as she found out about the tiny sightless baby.
Her eight year old body didn't compare with her adult demeanor, words
coming from her pretty lips that weren't supposed to be part of a young
child's vocabulary. She was considerably more mature than I could have
imagined, her soft voice familiar to the tender call of a young actress
from the thirties or forties. The manner in which she spoke was so
intriguing that she was able to completely capture my focus at a
respectable distance until the increasing din of the gathering around
us forced me to lean closer to her pretty face. With my left ear right
next to her mouth, her soft voice barely able to travel the incredibly
small distance between us, she leaned forward slightly and kissed my
cheek.
"You smell nice Terry. I like you."
All I could do was pull back a little and smile at her. She completely
disarmed me and turned me once again into a worthless bag of nervous
energy, blushing brightly.
"I like you too Tammy. But I have to admit that I've rarely been
kissed by such a pretty young lady like you. You better not do that
again or the people around us might get the idea that you and I are
more than just good friends. They might think I'm planning to take you
away and marry you!"
She instantly leaned into me and thrust her right arm about my neck,
pulling me as tightly as she could against her without getting up off
her tall chair. With absolutely no fear or hesitation, she turned her
face once again and planted a wet one square on my cheek, creating a
loud 'smack' when she pulled back and smiled. Not a single person
seemed even remotely interested or distantly concerned about MY welfare
or safety.
"If you keep doing that Tammy, I might get the idea that you want me to
return the gesture. You know I'm not supposed to do that, don't you?"
"Well, I wouldn't mind, but I guess it makes you a little scared, huh?
It's just kind of exciting to imagine you all nervous with a little
girl kissing you on the cheek all the time."
Savvy little gem, huh?
After another few minutes of conversation, nothing sacrosanct or out of
bounds, Tammy seemed restless, her posture changing every few seconds
as if the chair was uncomfortable.
"Are you okay Tammy? Is there anything wrong or something that I can
do for you?"
She tugged my ear back down to her mouth and prepared to inform me of
her requirements, something private enough for only ME to hear. My
first inclination was to guard my cheek to prevent another illicit kiss
from an eight year old, but I allowed her to have access to any portion
of my face that she desired. In an incredibly soft whisper, she told
me more than I should have been priviledged to.
"I gotta go pee Terry."
"Okay! Don't move."
I somehow felt responsible for assisting Tammy in her bathroom
requirements, a visitor in the House for no more than an hour and
already tending to one of the resident's needs by helping her make her
way toward the nearest potty. After locating Martha, I told her what
needed attention, her response not expected at all.
"Martha? One of your residents, Tammy, needs to take a short trip to
the powder room."
"Why THANK you Terry! The restroom is at the top of the stairs to the
right. Be sure to watch out for the top two steps. They're a little
loose."
Before I could be certain to confirm with Martha that it wasn't ME that
needed to go, she was whisked off by one of the local officials from
town, her joyous laughter the only indication I had that she was still
somewhere in the room amongst the many visitors.
Looking back toward Tammy, I could tell the dam was about to burst, so
I brushed past a number of the other visitors, took Tammy by the hand
and led her toward and then up the stairs, her grip around my hand
giving me the impression that she was very unsteady or unsure of her
footing. When we topped the curved flight of steps and could no longer
be seen by the other guests, Tammy pulled me down to her level as if
she was about to share a delicate secret with me.
"Terry?"
"Yes Tammy?"
Before I knew what happened, she grabbed my face with both hands and
planted a very nice wet kiss on my lips, lasting a little more than two
seconds.
"Back in a minute Terry. Don't move!"
She knew exactly where we were and immediately turned around and
disappeared through a tall door to the bathroom, her high pitched
giggle leaving me yet again completely speechless.
I had to look around to be sure that what I had just received wasn't
observed by anyone else in the immediate area, a deepening sense of
discomfort and uneasiness pervading my whole body. Still feeling
extremely nervous, I waited patiently just outside the door, the sound
of a little girl's stockings and then panties being drawn down a pair
of chubby legs, the unmistakable sound of pee striking a porcelain
bowl, the reinstallation of her underclothes to their full upright and
locked positions and then the bowl being flushed. When all was quiet
inside, she finally spoke.
"Terry? Are you still there?"
"Yes Tammy. Right here."
The door creaked open to a darkened room, her smiling face emerging
into the light of the hall with me nervously propped up against the
wall about a foot away from the door jamb.
"Terry?"
She reached out of the opened doorway with her hand extended as if she
were searching for something and waited for me to take it. As soon as
her pudgy little fingers were held in my hand, she flung herself at me
and wrapped her arms all the way around my body, squeezing me quite
amorously.
"Easy there, Chief! If somebody sees me hugging you or GETTING hugs
like this, they might think something was going on?"
"Don't worry Terry. All the kids here like to be hugged a lot and
nobody ever says anything when we ask one of our visitors for one."
After looking around to confirm that we were quite alone and taking her
at her word, I put my arms around her short frame and gave her a nice
tight squeeze in return, something that I hadn't anticipated doing
until I met someone quite a bit older than the youngster right in front
of me. With a soft extended moan, she confirmed that my tight grasp
seemed perfectly acceptable and thoroughly enjoyed, her hands going up
and down my back as if she had known me for years.
It was at that moment I had a stirring deep within my body that
surprised and stimulated me much more than I thought possible. True, I
did feel something similar when Debbie had greeted me near the front
hall, but Tammy's embrace was quite a bit more familiar, and certainly
more ambitious. In less than a minute, we were both feeling the effect
of hormonal passion, all from a relatively innocent but very amorous
embrace.
It took a few moments before either of us decided to relinquish our
grasp, a deepening blush on my face not noticed by my sightless
participant. Even though she couldn't see my face, she could tell from
my body heat that I liked how her chubby eight year old frame felt in
my arms, her awareness of my emotional state without having to discern
light from dark, or embarrassment from comfort.
"That felt nice, Terry. Thanks for hugging me like that."
"You're welcome, Tammy. Although I have to admit that I've never
gotten such a sweet hug from a little girl like you before. It seems
like hugs and kisses are things that you like to give and get, and I'm
more than a little embarrassed about it."
Her smile spoke volumes about the degree of satisfaction she felt from
the knowledge that she was my first tender thrill. She then asked
something that took me completely off guard, her lovely face strangely
in juxtoposition from her attitude. I wasn't prepared at ALL for it.
"Terry, can I show you something in my room?"
My heart almost jumped out of my chest and my woody straight through my
slacks. Was a nice embrace all that was required to coax something
even MORE dangerous from her?
"I . . . I don't think that would be a very good idea Honey. It's not
right for a man to take a little girl to her bedroom by themselves."
"Terry. You're so silly! I'm not some dumb little baby. I just want
to show you my electronic music machine."
"OH! Sorry."
"Come on! It's this way."
Without being able to see where she was going, Tammy grabbed my left
hand and led me down a long hall without running into a thing, around
the corner, up another flight of stairs and down yet another long hall.
I was stupified at how cleverly she had made her way through a
veritable maze, our trip up the stairs with her hand tightly around
mine for MY benefit, not hers. We had made it all the way to the third
floor without seeing a person, the noise of the party at the lowest
floor slowly dying off until all we heard was a low din. I was then
wondering if I should worry about someone seeing ME!
By the time she reached for a door handle at last, I was more nervous
than I thought I might be. Here I was, going into a little girl's
bedroom by myself, something I hadn't done since I was in junior high.
What would I find inside beyond the protection of the thick wooden
portal? Was somebody watching everything I did, Tammy's safety never
in question, but mine soon to be? Did anyone see me come upstairs and
about to enter Tammy's bedroom with her alone?
Forgetting that there was someone with her that required a light to be
on, Tammy pulled me inside her dimly lit room, closed the door and led
me across her small bedroom to a comfy window seat, a steam radiator
underneath keeping it pleasantly toasty for chilled bums. She directed
my body to take a position about half way across the cozy space,
covered in a large folded blanket.
My attention was immediately drawn to the gray light behind me through
the window. We were directly over the back of the house, the
flickering shadows of the people at the gathering downstairs creating
an unusual reflected display of light and dark in the windows of the
snow covered gazebo standing alone in the backyard. Tammy left me
sitting on the warmed stoop, then turned and made her way to her small
desk for something she'd carefully laid there earlier.
"Stay there Terry. Let me get my music machine."
It wasn't easy to make out strong details in the dimly lit room, but I
was finally able to see her return with a rather unimpressive handheld
electronic musical instrument. It was more a toy than a true
electronic music machine, but who was I to demean what she used to
learn and practice her music on.
"Here it is. Can I play something for you Terry?"
"Sure, but shouldn't you wait until I submit a bid so you can get a
reward for all your hard work during the year?"
"No, silly. This one is just for YOU 'cause you've been so nice to me
today."
Tammy sat down beside me, her right leg pressed tightly to my left.
She set her small twenty four key battery powered electronic organ on
her lap, turned it on and set a few of the switches before playing.
What I suspected was quite true, the instrument only able to emit a
single tone or 'voice' as she played. Her skills would have been
illustrated with considerably more finesse had she a polyphonic device.
In spite of the limitations of the tiny electronic box, her musical
talent and skill was unbelievable. She had an aptitude that demanded
an improved instrument and I began to develop an idea to see that she
had that chance if it were possible. A more impressive and modern
electronic organ would fit her hands AND her skills much more nicely
than a mere toy, her talents sure to improve once she had the right
instrument to practice on.
Before a minute of her first piece was completed, she lost her grip on
the small box and it slid down the front of her legs toward her knees,
headed to the floor. I couldn't help but offer some assistance, just
so I could continue to appreciate the wonderful sounds eminating from
beyond the tiny box, reached down to my left and caught the small
plastic box before it was more than an inch toward her knees.
"May I hold it for you Tammy so you can play it and not worry about it
falling again?"
"Sure Terry. Thanks."
I got up off the windowseat, knelt down in front of Tammy facing her
and reached forward, my intentions to provide whatever support for her
instrument so she could keep playing. Not immediately realizing where
my hands might end up when she finished pulling it toward her body once
her performance resumed, I slipped both sets of fingers under the back
of the instrument and along the top of her thighs, the tips of my
digits travelling under the bottom hem of her dark blue pleated skirt
and going somewhere I wasn't supposed to. The sensation was more
stimulating than I might have imagined, her stocking covered and sexy
chubby lower limbs against the back of my hands making my heart beat
faster and my cock stiffer than the last time I was being worked over
by a nearly naked buxom blonde twenty-something.
My mind was immediately lost to anything logical and pure, the baser
side of my existance pushing forth and urging me to consider things
that I knew were astonishingly immoral. How could I possibly think
about such a pretty chubby little girl as a sexual being, her innocent
need for company and demand for an audience twisted into the perverted
lust being considered in my sexually mature and experienced mind?
Without a word of complaint, Tammy returned right where she left off,
finishing her piece before I realized she had resumed her skillful
playing.
I caught myself looking down at her legs under the musical instrument
twice, peeking between her thighs and as far up her skirt as the dim
light would permit. It wasn't difficult at all to see straight up to
the diamond shaped patch of material that hid her panty covered quim,
less than six inches from the back of the instrument and less than
three from the tips of my fingers.
Feeling a strong need that my body was quite familiar with, I kept
leaning down in front of Tammy and tried to get a better look up her
plain school uniform between her thighs, straightening up and returning
to a more decent posture for a minute, and then leaning back down until
my eyes were trying to bask in the delicate charms of a little blind
eight year old's stockings and underwear.
Amazingly, the entire time I kept going up and down in front of her,
Tammy never once made it seem as if she knew what I was doing, her
knees coming apart slowly as each piece of carefully crafted music was
being played and then completed. I genuinely wanted to reach up to her
skirt and tug it high enough for me to see ALL of her stocking covered
quim, but morality made its way back into my surroundings.
What a difference a few minutes and a nice tight hug makes to a man
that hadn't been laid for a few weeks.
My mind was no longer able to cope with the dangerous potential of
having my hands directly on her soft stocking covered legs and my eyes
needing to see what she might look like naked, so I pulled my hands
back and lifted her instrument off her lap, giving her a small round of
applause as reward for all her hard work after I set the box down.
"That was EXCELLENT Tammy! You're quite good, you know?"
"Well, not really. The only other instrument I get to play is the
piano, but it's broken right now. Preacher McKelvin promised me I
could play the church organ when someone won my bid tonight."
"I look forward to winning the bid. I hope you know some orchestral
music."
"I know a few pieces, but Mrs. Harrison can't afford to buy much music
for me since most of the music she can afford is meant only for people
that can see."
"I tell you what. If I win the bid, I'll get you your own music player
so you can listen to the music first and then play it by memory. Would
that be a nice holiday present?"
"Oh, TERRY! That would be so KEW-WUUULL!"
In less than a second, I was once again engulfed in a little girl's
embrace, my arms holding her much more geniunely than I expected and
neither of us anxious to break our tight bond. What I wasn't
altogether cognizant of at the time was where I ended up after our
bodies came together, our initial embrace ending up quite differently
than before.
Her chubby legs were splayed dangerously apart, her bum pulled all the
way forward on the windowseat, her hips pressing against my tummy and
my body the direct cause of her thighs being parted extremely wide to
her sides. My hormones were a mix of passion and terror, little more
than a few scant layers of fabric between her innocence and my guilt.
What if someone were to walk in and see me holding an eight year old
like this, her skirt forced all the way to her tummy and her stocking
covered legs naughtily uncovered to her hips, my body WAY too close to
hers?
The first time I tried to pull away, Tammy resisted, squeezing me
tighter and moaning a quiet "No!" right into my left ear.
"But I'm not supposed to hold you like that Tammy. Someone might see
us."
"You're not doing nothin' wrong Terry."
"I hate to tell you this Sugar, but your uniform is pulled all the way
to your hips and if the light were on inside your room, I'd be able to
see all the way up to your pretty panties. If someone saw how much of
your underwear were exposed, they'd get pretty upset with me."
"So WHAT if my skirt is pulled all the way up? Nobody can see my
panties anyway 'cause I'm wearing tights."
"Well, I can't see anything either, but if someone WERE to come in and
turn the lights on, it would look pretty suspicious."
That's when she realized we were both still in the dark. Of course, it
wouldn't have mattered to her but to me, it meant the difference
between passion and innocence.
"I'm sorry Terry. I forgot to turn the light on for you. I never
bother with it since I can't see whether it's on or off anyway. Would
you like for me to turn the light on so you can see me better?"
Dear God! Did she just ask me if I wanted to look at her skirt pulled
all the way to her hips just so I could see what she looked like? I
was beginning to feel more than a little uncomfortable, even though
Tammy was nothing more than a chubby and blind eight year old.
"Uhhhh . . . NO, that's okay Sweetie. If I were to see just how pretty
your tights were, I might be tempted to tickle you from your toes to
your tummy and a few other special places too. We need to go back
downstairs now anyway. I don't want anyone to worry about where you
are."
I had just hinted to a sightless child that I wanted to diddle her
until she was squealing and giggling, all of my talents certain to
convince this waif that I could make her happy.
Before I could pull away, Tammy stopped me again.
"Terry?"
"Um hmmm?"
"Would you REALLY tickle me if I wanted you to?"
"I'd be happy to, but only if I didn't get into trouble. I'm pretty
good at it, you know."
"Terry?"
"Yes?"
"Could you . . . just for a minute? I promise I won't make you do it
more than that if you don't want to. Please? Nobody ever tickles me
'cause they're afraid of me being blind. I guess they think it's not
right to tickle me 'cause I can't see what they're doing or something
dumb like that. I wish I could have somebody like YOU play with me and
tickle me lots, 'cause I hear all the OTHER kids laughing and giggling
when THEY get tickles. Please? Just for a little while?"
"You mean, like THIS?"
With only my right hand pulled free, I began wiggling my fingers along
her left side, gently attacking her ribs until she was softly giggling
and then genuinely squealing with delight. It felt so good to bring
her unbound levels of innocent pleasure that I then retrieved my other
hand and did the same to her right side. In less than ten seconds, she
was squirming and writhing in absolute ecstacy, her restrained laughter
so intoxicating that I felt it was my responsibility to give her
mountains of tickles.
Tammy immediately assumed a more protective role with her arms, hands
and knees, trying to block my access to her ribs and tummy, but not
having that much success. I knew FAR too much about this aspect of
plain fun and had NO desire to refrain from giving this anxious little
orphan what she so desperately craved.
By the time a minute had ticked by, she was half bent over into my
attack, her knees and thighs trying their best to keep me from her
tummy. Her ploy actually backfired, my mouth used to add to her
sensory experience by taking little toothless nibbles out of her knees
and thighs, her skirt still pulled high enough out of the way that I
was afforded clear access to her legs from her knees to near her hips.
If only her room were more brightly lit, I would have been able to also
SEE what I was nibbling on instead of just feeling the chubby warmth
with my nose, lips and chin.
In retrospect, I shouldn't have begun adding the increased mandibular
stimulation, since she found the additional physical contact so
enjoyable that she lifted both legs and clamped her thighs against my
ears, hooking her calves behind my head and pulling me hard into her
body. Fortunately, my face was turned to the left when she forced my
face in, my lips attacking her right thigh wildly.
The first erotic sensation I got was against my right ear, the intense
heat that was radiating from between her legs where her cunny was
making my enthusiasm jump ten notches in ferocity. The next sensation
was the incredibly erotic whiff of her panty covered little girl
perfume, something that I'd never been knowingly exposed to since I was
a lad of fifteen.
I hesitated for only a second, not certain if she knew just how
dangerous this might be, my face incredibly close to her Heaven and my
mouth quite able to show her how much I knew about making LOTS of women
happy for hours on end, should I turn to the right and if the little
gem permitted me to go hairless-clam diving.
Not wanting to give her the wrong impression of me, I kept my head
turned slightly sideways, forcing my mouth AWAY from the soft, puffy
elegance of her yonni and toward her full thighs, less than half an
inch from where I imagined was the most delectible flesh known to man.
She was so enamoured with all the pleasant stimulation, she hung on and
kept pulling my head into her hips with her calves, my lips and teeth
taking larger and harder nips out of her elegantly full legs. With one
quick twist, I turned my head hard over to her other thigh, providing
her left with just as much entertainment as her right, her giggles and
laughter filling me with an unbound sense of satisfaction. I hadn't
felt this pleased with myself in quite a while, Tammy's appreciation
for tactile play so encouraging that I had no desire to stop.
Fortunately, my hands and fingers maintained a rather determined and
very decent hold on her ribs and tummy, none of her tender flesh
beneath ever at risk.
Even though I had never been this close to an immature female before as
an adult, my mouth working her thighs to heavenly bliss and my nose
taking in every possible lungful of her lovely perfume, it felt
strangely intoxicating and very stimulating. My awareness of my own
passions kept me from trying what I knew would scare the crap out of
her, the boundary between pleasurable tickles and child molestation so
incredibly miniscule that it would have taken no effort to send my
urban ass straight to a rural county lockup.
She must not have sensed what I was about to do with my mouth before I
did, because the next time I attempted to turn my head, her thighs
clamped down even harder when I tried to rotate my face to her right
leg. Instead of taking a guppy nibble out of her stocking covered
right thigh incredibly close to her body, I was now absentmindedly
munching on her stocking and panty covered jewel.
My lips munched on her for no more than four or five seconds and my
tongue extended from beyond my lips, taking a single strong swipe
directly over her cloth covered puddy. Tammy instantly squealed and I
somehow knew the second it happened just what she was squealing about.
Instead of opening her legs so her thighs could permit my departure,
Tammy held onto my head and even used both of her hands to squeeze my
head harder, forcing my mouth into her soft quim much more firmly. I
feebly struggled against the strong pull of her legs, keeping my tongue
pointed toward Heaven and as rigid as I could, leaving a thin layer of
saliva all over the front of her stocking covered yonni.
When I finally pulled away, all I could do was fear for my life and
stare at her, trying to determine if her mouth was about to emit a
tremendously loud wail or if she might say something that I might
regret for the rest of my life. That's when the painful reality of
what I had just done was thrust into my face, a new resident to this
town for little less than a year, and already I was breaking one of
society's most rigid laws regarding being indecent with a little blind
eight year old.
My heart was pounding as quickly as Tammy's, but for a very different
reason. Was she about to inform her house mother that I just assaulted
her? Was I about to be formally introduced to the sheriff downstairs?
Was my freedom about to be revoked and my future to be spent trying to
fend off every sick bastard that wanted to poke me in the ass?
"I'M SO SORRY HONEY! I DIDN'T REALLY MEAN TO DO THAT. PLEASE FORGIVE
ME!"
In the quiet stillness of her bedroom, her heart and breathing the only
things I could make out above my own, I slowly withdrew from something
that I knew would send me straight to jail. Tammy never said a word as
she opened her legs far enough to allow me to lean back, her thighs to
fall off my shoulders and then slowly close her knees together in front
of her. I tugged her skirt back to its more public location and felt
absolutely horrible about what I had done, certain that I had scared
the living dickens out of an eight year old. In a voice soft enough
that I hoped wouldn't frighten her more than she obviously already was,
I again begged for forgiveness.
"I'm sorry Tammy. I truly don't want you to be afraid of me or think
that I meant to scare or hurt you. It was an accident and I won't do
that again, I promise. Please tell me you're not mad."
She never said a word as she pushed her right hand between her thighs,
rubbing for a few seconds, apparently trying to remove the sensations I
had induced or the invisible traces of spit I had left there. After
her hands were pulled from between her chubby legs, she arranged her
outfit and hair, shifting forward so she could stand back up, pushing
me backward until she was less than six inches in front of me. Tammy
then pulled me upright and then directed us out of her darkened room
and in the general direction toward the gathering of people two floors
below, not a single word spoken the entire time.
I watched her every move once we were beyond her bedroom door and I
could again see every feature of her lovely countenance. She seemed to
know I was watching her, her face held straight and her emotions not
revealed by any expression. When we were at the top of the stairs on
the second floor, where we had started quite a while ago above the
still noisy crowd, she stopped me and pulled me back beyond the corner
of the hall, forcing me to squat down in front of her. My heart was
racing and I knew for certain that my stay was about to be called done.
"Terry? If I ask you a question, would you tell me the truth or will
you lie to me?"
"I'll tell the truth Honey, I promise."
"When you . . . when your mouth touched my . . . when you tickled me
that one time, were you trying to hurt me?"
"No Tammy, I wasn't. I lost control for a moment and did something
that you're not supposed to know about until you get a lot older. I
used to do that to my lady friends and kinda forgot for a second,
that's all. That's not supposed to happen to you until you're old
enough to go out on dates or get married."
"When you . . . when your mouth touched me, my insides went all fuzzy
and tingly. Did you do that to your lady friends a LOT?"
"Yes. But little girls aren't supposed to find out about that sort of
stuff until they're married or old enough to understand what the guy is
doing when he tries to kiss her like that. I'm truly sorry I scared
you Angel, and I promise I won't frighten you like that ever again,
okay?"
Her expression changed immediately to one of innocent rapture, her
smile lighting up my heart once again.
"It's okay Terry. I know it was just an accident 'cause we were both
having such a good time. You're a big handsome guy and I'll bet you
just kinda forgot for a second that I'm just a little blind girl. I
know I ain't supposed to think this way, but for a tiny second, it felt
like I was one of your REAL older girlfriends. My insides are still
just a little bit tingly 'cause of how good it felt, but I'm not scared
no more. I know you didn't mean to scare me and I'm not mad at you for
doing that, so I promise I won't say anything to anybody. But I need
to ask you another question, okay?"
"Sure, what's that?"
"Are you still gonna try to be the highest bidder and then buy me a
nice music player if you win? Please tell me the truth."
"I can almost guarantee I'll be the highest bidder Honey, and YES, I'll
buy you that music player I promised earlier. Not because I want to
earn your silence, but because I think you truly deserve it. Your
musical horizons would really be broadened if you could hear different
kinds of music. I'll get it for you either way. Do you believe me?"
"I truly do Terry. I'm glad you're still gonna try to be the highest
bidder. I promise I'll do my best for you when I get to play for you
all by ourselves again. Would you like to visit me in my room again
when you win? I promise I won't be scared if you want to tickle me
again like before."
What the heck did THAT mean?
"Sure, I'd really like to visit you again Honey. But, I don't think it
would be a very good idea if I came to your room by myself after I
scared you this last time. I don't want to make you afraid of me."
She looked strangely saddened, as if I had just told her that I didn't
trust HER. Since I couldn't read her expressions, I couldn't tell what
she might be thinking.
"Can I ask you one last question Terry?"
"Sure!"
"Can I have just one last kiss before we go back downstairs. I like
the way you kiss."
I looked completely around us, turned to face her and leaned forward,
gently kissing an eight year old little girl tenderly, with no more
intent than any adult might kiss a growing young woman in a similar
situation. Instead of reeling back in terror, Tammy tilted her head
slightly and put her arms around my neck, doing a much better job than
I thought a second or third grader should.
Our kiss lasted much longer than it should have, both of us breathless
and full of hormonal energy when our lips parted. She tried to look
hard into my face, as if for a brief moment, she had regained her
sight.
"Thank you Terry. That was REALLY nice. I hope you'll let me kiss you
again before you go tonight. Please promise me you'll try to walk me
to my room later on."
"Are you sure Tammy? Don't you remember what happened the last time I
accidentally touched you? I don't want to scare you, because it's too
easy to get carried away with such a pretty little angel like you. Do
you understand?"
"I really like you Terry. You're sweet!"
Her arms were once again around my neck, pulling me tight to her body,
my arms repeating what I'd done once before. As if nature had intended
me to do it, my right hand fell squarely on her plump round ass, my
left out of the way half a foot higher. It took every ounce of my self
control, but I resisted playing with or massaging her full fanny as we
hugged, so little fabric between my mature hand and her soft round
fanny.
"I like the way YOU hug me Terry. You hold me better than ANYONE!
You're not afraid to touch my bummy and make me feel good."
I could feel my cock straining to be set free, words that weren't meant
to cause my body to react so strongly coming from an elementary school
little orphaned blind girl. As if my hand had a brain of its own, it
began to softly massage the fullness of her little girl tush, slow and
gentle manipulation being offered rather than blatant molestation.
Before our bodies could be separated, I saw an older gentleman walking
toward us up the steps with a little girl about Tammy's age in his
arms. He saw both Tammy and me and apparently where my right hand was
as we were hugging, the mature man smiling at me as if my actions were
quite normal, turning his attention back to the original object of his
affection once he was satisfied he'd seen enough.
When they reached the top of the stairs, he set the little girl down,
directed her to a small two person chair across the hall from us,
lifted her onto it and then pulled her short skirt up her legs until
her tights were completely uncovered and she was laying back with her
legs splayed dangerously apart. He then did something that almost
stopped my heart.
Without a care in the world and right in front of my startled vision,
the gray haired gentleman worked the little girl's tights and panties
down and off and proceeded to tongue the little gem with every ounce of
energy he had.
For her part, the little girl did absolutely nothing, her expression
remaining blank and her demeanor as if she knew nothing about what
polite men normally DIDN'T do with little girls' naked pudendums and
clitties.
My heart was pounding in my chest so hard, I thought it might burst
out. How the Hell was I going to get myself out of this predicament
without either Tammy or the adult visitor behind her noticing?
The entire time I stared at something that was only done in dark alleys
or very quiet little girls' bedrooms after the lights were out, Tammy
was softly droning on about how much she liked for me to visit her and
how much she wanted to show me all about her musical skills. I never
heard a word from her, my mind trying to come to grips with an illicit
and extremely erotic sexual display between a grown elderly man and a
helpless and quite unconcerned little second or third grader.
Before I could get up off the floor, another adult man was making his
way up the stairs with a chubby Down's boy alongside, about eleven or
twelve. Once they were around the same corner that hid Tammy and me,
the elderly man and the little girl, this new man stopped the boy and
knelt down in front of him, undoing the young boy's pants and letting
them fall around his chubby legs. With the boy's underpants pulled
down to his feet, the man then began feasting on the boy's penis, the
younger partner fairly well endowed and obviously enjoying the
tremendously intense sensations being provided him by his much older
'friend', both of his hands around the back of the older man's head and
his smile so wide all of his teeth were showing.
Before Tammy could make out the rather distinctive sounds of a preteen
boy receiving a rather ardent blowjob by a horny adult man, I rose to
my feet and directed Tammy back downstairs, hoping she wouldn't ask me
too many questions about what she'd heard. When she was finally
sitting in her chair, I leaned into her and gave her a little kiss on
the cheek, receiving a bright smile as my reward.
"I'll see you a little later, Honey. I need to make sure these folks
see me around the room or they might think I have some naughty plans
for you when we go back upstairs and you show me more of your musical
talents."
"Promise me you'll come back before you leave Terry? Please? I want
to visit with you some more again."
"I promise."
With one quick peck on the cheek, I helped her straighten her skirt one
last time and left her to be visited by someone else, hoping nobody
would try to repeat what the first or the second adult male were doing
upstairs right now with children that couldn't possibly know was
absolutely forbidden in polite society. Holding my own actions
circumspect, I began to feel tremendously ashamed. Although I hadn't
pulled Tammy's stockings or panties down and feasted on her nakedness
directly, I still had attempted to tongue her so she'd feel good,
something that I might have done to ANOTHER squirming angel, just quite
a bit older.
I was so concerned for her welfare that as I made my way around the
room, I kept looking back toward Tammy, wanting to be sure nobody took
advantage of her too. Strangely, nobody seemed interested in her, much
to my relief. And yet, I felt deeply sorry for her, no-one as
interested in her as I had been. Her musical skills meritted so much
more adulation, but nobody had any obvious interest in what she was
offering for bid.
After ten minutes of careful observations, I returned to her side and
announced myself.
"Hey good looking. Know any pretty little girls that can play the
piano and like to be tickled?"
"Hi Terry. I'm glad you came back so soon. I was getting a little
lonely."
"Don't the other guests want to bid on your musical abilities, Honey?"
"Not really. Since I'm smarter than all the other girls and can talk
regular, most of the people that visit don't want nothin' to do with
me. I think they're kinda scared I might say something to someone if
they try to hug me or kiss me or touch me like you did before."
As I stood next to Tammy, I began wondering if all the other children
were being treated the same way as the first little girl and the
preteen Down's boy. I then had a horrible thought about Mrs. Harrison
needing money to keep her house going, not saying anything if some of
the men in town spent a little extra special time with some of the
girls or boys every once in a while. I hoped I'd never get to
compleely see what might be going on, possibly hearing some noises from
the other bedrooms if I visited Tammy at the wrong time.
Then a cold chill ran down my back, remembering a news story about a
rather nondescript older caucasian woman being manacled and taken away
to face a whole laundry list of charges stemming from activities being
conducted within her orphanage. Unbelievably, someone had stumbled
into a child prostitution brothel, the less fortunate and challenged
children as ample fodder for all the hungry desires of the many
townsfolk that otherwise would have been reviled and disgusted by her
activities. I immediately hoped Tammy would NEVER be forced to do this
sort of stuff.
Sometime during our public conversation, I must have said something
that stirred yet another hug from within the chubby little body sitting
alongside me. Without any reluctance or hesitation, Tammy thrust her
arms around me and gave me a bear hug, almost pulling me off my feet.
Once I was able to collect my balance and my wits, I dusted myself off
and kissed her on the cheek.
"See you before I leave Angel."
"Bye handsome!"
How the heck would SHE know?
Finding Martha in less than a minute, I made sure she knew I was going
to win Tammy's musical offering, no matter HOW high someone else might
bid. Once my verbal offering was made, I pushed a folded slip of paper
from my pad into the gold box near the door, with a note on one side:
[Bidder D15: Twenty dollars over the highest bid for item #69, no
upper limit].
Continued in Part 2 (Special_2.txt)
--
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