Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 WARNING: This is a fantasy story containing graphic sexual contact between
an adult male and an under age girl.  Romany does not condone nor support
the sexual abuse of children.  Romany acknowledges the rights of freedom of
speech and freedom of opinions.  It is your choice to read on.  If you are
under 18 years of age LEAVE NOW.
   All names are purely fictional and any similarity to any person living
or dead is coincidental.
   A Dangerous Infatuation 2: Poppy
   By Romany
   (M/g)
   STEPHEN SLADE
   Poppy's parents were post 80's yuppies.  Terri and Grant Wilson were in
their early forties and exuded an air of confidence and superiority.  When
they moved next door to Stephen Slade, Stephen went over and introduced
himself and as their immediate neighbor, he welcomed them.  They were
gracious enough to Stephen guess but there was an annoying patronizing air
about them.  Stephen got the impression they were nouveau riche although
the suburb they lived in was upper middle class at best.  So why they would
put on airs and graces here Stephen didn't know.  With his late wife
Jessie, Stephen had deliberately chosen here based on the interior of the
house, and the secluded yard with swimming pool.  Jessie knew the previous
owner but one, and always said if the chance came she would buy it.  The
chance did come and she matched her word.  The house was modest from the
street but it was beautifully appointed and finished inside, with the
privacy of lovely grounds and pool at the rear.  They had had a condominium
in the city and as soon as they bought the house they decided they should
rent the condo and move out here.  It didn't take much to persuade Stephen
and they settled in quickly.  Sadly this was to be her last place.  She
died in his arms here at home, after a brief fight with cancer.
   Stephen trudged back home after doing his neighborly bit and resolved to
be nothing but courteous to the couple.  He felt they were a bit rude and
dismissive.  He was not a snob but Stephen knew he could buy and sell them,
as the saying goes.  Time passed quickly and Stephen had little contact
with them.  He often saw their young daughter some Monday's, going to a
private boarding school she attended, and returning Friday afternoon's to
spend the weekends with her self-professed busy parents.  She looked about
nine or ten.  An elderly widow neighbor across the road, Mrs.  Jessop, had
firm opinions about the Wilson's and she was quick to share them with
Stephen.  She lowered her voice as she told him that the Wilson's were
playing out of their league.  She also felt the child was regarded as a
chattel to be displayed as their achievement.  Stephen listened to his
neighbor and nodded sagely at her words.  In all honesty, he couldn't care
less; until that day three years later when he actually met Poppy.
   MEETING POPPY
   Stephen was sitting by the swimming pool in his secluded back yard.  It
was a warm Saturday afternoon in early July; just after noon and the sun
was high.  Stephen wore a pair of swim shorts his late wife had bought for
him in France.  He used to wear the drill boxer short types with sewn-in
briefs but after seeing the narcissist Frenchmen on the Mediterranean
coastline, she had encouraged him to wear these, which, while they had legs
like shorts, the legs actually hugged the thighs and the front was cut such
that his male attributes were presented as what she said the gay boys
called a "basket".  She had laughed at her words.  Stephen tried the shorts
and they fitted snugly at the legs and just right at the waist.  He had
posed in the tall mirror in the bedroom of their hotel and he was aghast to
see how pronounced his cock and balls were; perhaps more so than the brief
Speedos favored by the European bathers.  She went tut-tut at him about his
modesty and squeezing the "basket" kissed Stephen on the nose and told he
had every reason to be proud of what he had; as much as any show-off Euro
boy in his sleek mini briefs.  Stephen did get lots of admiring looks from
woman and the occasional man or two.  He soon learned not to be
self-conscious about it in the South of France that year, and they were now
standard wear at least around the privacy of his pool.
   As he sat thinking about nothing in particular, a tennis ball landed
some feet from the high boundary fence that separated his house from the
Wilson's.  He sat looking at the bright yellow ball and just as he was
about to rise to walk around the pool towards the ball, he heard a
scuffling noise from the direction of the fence.  A blond head came into
view and a leg swung over the ivy clad fence and he saw it was young Poppy
Wilson straddling the fence.  She was wearing a white tennis skirt and
Stephen made out the expanse of leg as her skirt rode up as she straddled
the ridge of the fence, artificially widened by the thick covering of ivy.
He could see she had on those clinging Lycra shorts that some women tennis
players wear underneath the skirt to preserve some modesty and avoid the
countless crotch shots photographers often take for magazines.  She looked
down and he could see the determination on her face to negotiate this
ten-foot barrier and she began to swing her other leg over with the view to
easing herself down, while holding the matted ivy trails as she descended.
A good plan but as she transferred her weight from her crotch and torso as
she lay along the ridge, the ivy she was holding on to gave way and the
next thing she descend slowly but directly to the ground as her hands
grabbed at the ivy on her way down.  She landed with a controlled thud on
her butt and Stephen heard her cry out at the impact; more in anticipation
of a hard landing than in real pain.  She sat with her back to him and
surveyed the damage.  Once she realized she was OK, she picked herself up
and turned towards where she thought the ball went.  She started walking
towards Stephen and about halfway from the fence realized he was standing
watching.  She slowed and then came to a stop.  The ball was halfway
between them beyond the end of the pool.  She quickly surveyed the scene
and he saw her surprised look when she saw the large twenty-five foot pool
with the clear still water.  The silence was broken by the low whirr from
the pump and the slight swish as the water was pumped back into the pool
through a number of side jets.
   "Hi I'm Poppy," she said nervously.  "I hit his ball over here while
practicing tennis," she volunteered.
   "Yes you are...I recognize you...and yes you have.  A strong volley..."
Stephen said with a chuckle.
   She looked relieved Stephen knew who she was.  He walked towards the
ball and picked it up.  Realizing he wasn't about to scold her for the ball
incident or climbing the fence she grinned and stepped forward as he held
the ball out to her.  As she neared he saw her glance at his "basket" and
suddenly her face was overcome with a degree of embarrassment.  Stephen
smiled to himself.  A more demure reaction than that of some of the Euro
gals and guys, who openly ogled the nice package of a man in his early
sixties.  She covered her embarrassment by looking past Stephen at the
pool. She walked forward to the edge uttering, "this is swell" and she
stooped and thrust a hand into the water warmed by continuous warm days.
   "You like?" Stephen asked as a rhetorical question.
   She turned and grinned at him.  "Not just like it, I love it," she
laughed.
   Stephen was charmed by her candor.  She wore a multi-striped polo shirt
tucked into the skirt and he could make out the obvious curve of budding
breasts.  Stephen thought she was about nine or ten when the Wilson' moved
in about three years ago so she would be about twelve or thirteen.  She was
squatting by the waters edge and Stephen could see the under-shorts leg hem
and the pleats of the skirt as it fell across her upper thigh.  She had on
white ankle sox and tennis sneakers.
   "Do you have a tennis court?" Stephen asked turning and indicating their
house.
   "No.  But there is a back-board for me to hit against," she answered.
   Stephen looked at the considerable distance from the fence to where the
ball landed.
   "Nice shot." Stephen said laughingly.  "You must be in the Venus
Williams power class."
   She screwed her face up.
   "I don't like the Williams sisters," she muttered.  "It's too much about
them being black and the air of black superiority."
   Stephen was somewhat taken aback by this rather racial opinion.
   "But they can play tennis pretty good," Stephen countered.
   "Well yeah.  If they had of left it at that and stopped moaning when
they thought they got bad breaks because they were black," she countered. I
prefer the Russians who just get on with getting better.  I also like the
two Belgians," she said referring to Clijsters and Henin-Hardine.
   Stephen nodded.  "Yes they are very good.  And our own Lindsay
Davenport," Stephen added.
   "Has been," she said firmly.
   Stephen chuckled to himself.  Really strong views in this little girl.
   "Would you like a soda Poppy?" Stephen asked.
   "P.  Call me P," she said firmly.
   "P?" Stephen asked quizzically.
   "Poppy is such a baby name," she proffered.  "I prefer P"
   He laughed.  "That's a bit of a double ender," Stephen said.
   She scowled slightly.  "How so?"
   "Well, P or pee-ee," Stephen said emphasizing the double-ee to mean
piss.
   She stopped and thought about what Stephen had said.  Then not to be
cowed by his point she uttered, "I never regarded it as toilet related,"
she said almost snootily, as if Stephen was being juvenile.
   Stephen wasn't convinced she believed what she said now that he had
raised the specter of misinterpretation of her self-appointed nickname.
   "Have a soda P," Stephen said trying to stifle his humor at the running
of the word soda and letter P together.
   She looked defeated on this subject and silently followed him over to
the shade house between the main house and the pool.  It had drawn up
raffia blinds to open the walls, much the same as a Burmese or Malay hut.
She stepped into the cool air of the shade house and Stephen turned from
the small fridge and held out Sprite and Pepsi.  She took the Sprite with a
polite "thank you" and flicked the tab and it hissed as the can opened. 
She took a swig then turned and looked out at the pool and yard.
   "This is really keen," she said.  "I had no idea this was so beautiful
back here."
   "Yes.  It's lovely.  One of the main reasons Jessie wanted this house.
This and the interior," Stephen added.
   She looked at him solemnly.  "I was sorry to hear your wife died," she
said.
   "Thank you Poppy, err, P," he answered.  "I appreciate that."
   Stephen truly did.  Jessie had been gone some many months now so to have
this child offer her sympathy at first meeting afterwards was nice.
   She pulled a face.  "I think `P' is not such a good name after all," she
offered thoughtfully.
   He laughed.  "Is Poppy your given name?" Stephen asked.
   She looked at him.  "No.  It's Penelope but I don't like that either."
   "What about Penny.  That's a nice logical change for a Penelope," he
ventured.
   She screwed her face up again.  "Nah.  We have two Pennys in my class
already.  Once with a `Y' and one with one N and an `E' on the end," she
answered.
   "Then can I call you Poppy please, because I think that is a lovely name
for such a pretty girl."
   He hoped he didn't sound too sleazy.  She grinned at the compliment and
nodded.
   "OK Mr.  Slade, you can call me Poppy," she laughed.
   "And no more Mr.  Slade," Stephen chided.  You can call me Stephen.  Not
Steve.  Stephen...which everyone has called me all of his life."
   She nodded but he could tell basic manners made it hard for her to use
his Christian name given his age.  He could be her grandfather.  With these
pleasantries over, Stephen motioned her to sit down.  She sat on one of the
rattan chairs with a cushion tied to the seat and back, and she leaned
forward with her arms on her legs which she held together at the knees; and
held her Sprite between both hands.  Stephen sat in a single easy chair he
had moved out of the house.  He was lying back a little and knew his
`basket' was a little more pronounced in this position and he noted she
stole a sideways look while pretending to gaze around the interior of the
shade house at the same time she lifted her drink to sip from the can.
   "It's nice and cool in here," he said breaking her thoughts.
   She looked up at him once again, taking a brief glimpse at his crotch
before meeting his eyes.
   "It's really neat," she smiled politely.
   Stephen was a good student of human behavior.  He had read the faces of
countless men and women who came to him for investment advice; always
saying they wanted long term secure gains but knowing those that wanted
short term get-rich-quick schemes.  Stephen prided himself in consistently
knowing what their real wants were.  This girl wanted to slyly study his
crotch he thought.  He started to describe the work he and Jessie did to
upgrade the basic layout of the yard, ensuring he looked away from her for
long periods as he talked about the pool and the house; and the rest of the
attributes he had on the property.  He occasionally turned back to her and
usually signaled when he was about to look her way so she could avert her
eyes.  He knew she wasn't really listening but she was staring at his
slowly hardening cock.  Hardening at the knowledge this young nymph was
interested in it.  Hardening as her age group was in the recently acquired
category for his carnal thoughts.
   "So what about it?" Stephen said.
   She jerked her eyes up to his suddenly.
   "What?  What was that?  Sorry Mr.  Slade...I was thinking about
something else," she stammered.
   Stephen laughed.  He had stopped waxing eloquent and asked her if she
wanted to swim.  She was gazing at his crotch as it had been sometime since
he had turned his head towards her.  He had asked her about a swim and she
hadn't heard.  He had caught her cold.  Staring at his cock form draped to
one side of his groin under the tight swimsuit.
   "Would you like a swim Poppy?" Stephen asked again.
   She was blushing at being caught staring.  He felt himself flushed with
how lovely she looked.
   "I'd love to but mom and dad will be back soon and we're going into the
city," she said.
   Stephen nodded his understanding.
   "Well maybe another time.  Any time you want to," he said smiling at
her.
   "I'd love to.  It looks so neat," she beamed and sipped her soda.
   "I seldom use the pool.  I'd like to think I could share it.  Anyway ask
your mother or father if it's OK.  It's there to be used," he said trying
to make the offer honest and above board.
   He wanted this young girl to come back here; even if it had to be
sanctioned by her parents.  He wanted to see her in a bathing suit or
bikini.  But he didn't want to push it to much and have her become
suspicious that he was just a dirty old man who was interested in peeling
those clothes off her young nubile body.  Stephen rose and went and dropped
his soda can in the trash bin by the fridge.  He knew she was watching him.
Stephen was naked except for his trunks and knew he was fit, with a hard
gut from working out; and a small thatch of chest hair to match his full
head of distinguished gray hair.  Jessie always said Stephen had a virile
look about him and she was always quick to tell him when much younger woman
were checking him out with approval.  She said he looked like the older
Sean Connery, only with gray hair.  Poppy rose and walked towards him,
studiously avoiding looking at his crotch, and handed him the empty soda
can.
   "I'd best be going," she said presently as Stephen walked back to sit
down once more.
   "Oh, are you sure you can't stay," he asked, genuinely disappointed she
wanted to leave.
   "Yep...yep...mom and dad will be back soon," she confirmed.
   "Ok," he laughed.  "You'd best get on then.  But let me show you a quick
way back," he said, taking the empty soda can from her and tossing it in
the trash.
   She frowned in a curious way as Stephen went to a small sideboard and
opened the single drawer.  He fished around inside it then held up an old,
large, black key.  She looked puzzled.
   "All will be revealed," he said.  "Follow me young Poppy."
   Stephen walked across the yard towards the fence and began searching
through the ivy that covered it.  He soon found what he was looking for. 
There was a gate concealed by the ivy.  It had a large wrought iron ring
handle with which to open the latch.  The latch was locked by a mechanism,
inside the timber like a normal mortise lock.  But the key was more of an
external lever that was inserted in a slot in the wood and rather than turn
it, Stephen levered it to the left towards the handle.  Hen turned the ring
and heard the mechanism release from the gatepost hidden by ivy.
   He turned triumphantly to Poppy.  "Tadaaa" he trumpeted his success.
   She was wide eyed with her mouth open.
   "I always wondered how this opened.  It's obvious from our side but
there is no handle and dad always wondered why it was this way.
   "I suspect it was a tradesman's entrance," he said.  "Before your house
was built.  This is a very old house despite the excellent condition."
   There was still the small matter of prising the gate open, against the
restraints of the covering ivy.  Stephen levered the gate with one hand
while bracing his shoulder against the ivy-covered fence.  He succeeded in
opening it about twelve to fourteen inches.
   "Can you squeeze through Poppy?" he asked.
   She stepped forward and by turning sideways and placing first one foot,
then the other over the hanging twisted ivy she slid through the gap
easily. She turned and looked back at Stephen.
   "Can I come back this way if I want to swim?" she asked.
   He was puzzled by her question.
   "It's...it's just that maybe I might just come for a swim without mom or
dad knowing..." she continued cautiously, searching his face for reaction.
"Sometimes they won't let me do the easiest things and I'd really not like
it if they said no to me coming here," she explained.
   "Ah...that's a bit of an issue.  I'm not sure what they might think if
they found out you'd been here without their permission," he said
cautiously.
   In reality he was elated at her question.  She wanted to come back.  Of
course she should.  And even better still if her parents didn't know.  But
he had to appear he wasn't about to simply jump into collusion with her. 
He had to appear responsible to her parent's authority.
   "Pleeeeeeeaaaase..." she pleaded.  "They would just say no and I really
love your pool," she said with a wishful look on her face.
   He feigned considering her plea with some doubt and then finally Stephen
made to soften his objection.
   "OK...of course you can.  But please be very careful as I simply do not
want to get into trouble with your parents," he said feigning reluctance
with his agreement.
   "Oh.  But how will I know when you want to come over?" he added,
realizing the gate was too constricted by ivy, and too heavy for her to
open, even if he left it unlocked.
   "I can throw this over when I want you to help me open it again," she
said holding up the tennis ball, which had brought her here in the first
place.
   Stephen grinned at her suggestion.  Good thinking and clearly thinking
she wanted to return.  He felt a warm fuzzy feeling this chance meeting was
going to lead to something more promising.  He was thankful her energetic
swing of her tennis racquet had skied the ball over the fence.  And
thankful of her tenacity to scale the ivy covered wall to retrieve it.
   "When can I expect to see it?" he asked tentatively.
   "Next Saturday...if it's fine.  No, even if it's not fine but it's still
warm," she corrected.  "About one o'clock.  Consuela is usually flat on her
back
   "Consuela?" he asked quizzically.
   "Our lazy housekeeper," she answered and giggled.
   The giggle sent a small electric shock through him and it was all he
could do not to jump her there and then.  But `patience is a virtue' and he
needed to exercise his patience.  With a little wave she smiled and eased
into the gap in the gate while he held it and also held a large clump of
the ivy clear for her to enter.  She vanished through the gap and he heard
the crunch of her feet on a gravel path as she walked away on the other
side.  Stephen turned and surveyed his yard.  The entire area was private.
You couldn't see in from either neighbor's side and the rear of the
property had a tall stand of ash, elms and birch trees with a small stand
of conifers, more as ornamentals, inside the boundary of larger deciduous
trees.  Hen knew no one saw her here, nor would see her again from off the
property.  They would have to come into his house to see the yard at all.
   "Yesssss," he hissed and pumped his fist, after closing and locking the
gate.
   He walked into the bathroom off the shade house and frantically peeled
the band of his swimming trunks down and his cock sprang out, angry and
hard.  He took himself in hand and closing his eyes, thought of the dream
girl he had just let through the fence; the blissful thought that she was
returning.  He envisioned her naked with him between her slim legs as he
felt his orgasm rise and he gasped and came hard and the cum squirted in
long strong ribbons down into the water in the toilet bowl.  He gasped as
he finished; now sagging at the knees from the release.  He regulated his
ragged breathing and casually slipped his slowly deflating cock back into
the pouch-like front of the swim shorts.  He couldn't wait for Poppy's
return.
   SWIM MEET
   The next Saturday at about one o'clock Stephen sat in the shade house
trying to read.  But he couldn't concentrate as he was on edge, waiting for
the tennis ball that was to land on the grass, as a signal the little girl
was ready to come back through the fence.  He was pleased she was being
circumspect.  She did not want the housekeeper or her parents to know, as
it would surely get her into trouble.  He was certain Poppy was excited by
their first meeting and hoped it wasn't just the chance of a swim in a nice
pool on a hot day that saw her taking up his offer.  He sat and looked out
over the pool and beyond; waiting for the yellow ball to bounce on the
grass.  He was wearing his revealing French swim suit and he had a languid
half hard on in anticipation of the young girl's visit.  He got up and
walked into the bathroom and pulled his cock out and gave it a few strokes.
This was a stupid thing to do as he got hard very quickly.  But yet he
jacked off quickly; gasping and screwing his face up in pleasure, and then
after shaking the few drips of semen off the tip, he tucked his cock back
into his swim suit and slowly went back to sit and wait.  He was behaving
like an oversexed teenage boy who had just started to ejaculate after
puberty.  As Stephen stepped back into the shade house his heart leapt as
he saw the yellow tennis ball about ten feet from the pool edge.  He strode
quickly out the door and skirted the pool towards the boundary fence He
turned the handle and discretely opened the gate a crack and peered
through. She was standing on the other side looking back over her shoulder.
No doubt checking to ensure the housekeeper was not looking.  He pulled the
gate as far as he could and she turned back quickly at the noise.  She
grinned and gave a little involuntary wave of her hand.  He beckoned her.
   "Come quickly Poppy," he whispered.
   She took one more glance over her shoulder and sliding sideways, she
stepped through.  Stephen locked the gate after her and let the ivy fall
naturally back over the secret gateway.  He turned to look at her.  She was
wearing a short pull over shift that girls often wear over their bikinis or
bathing suit.  Long enough to cover the crotch area but usually slightly
opaque so bright colored suits in particular can be seen underneath.  This
all adds to the allure while remaining modest.  He grinned his approval and
she blushed.
   "Come on slowcoach," he said in mock chastisement.  "The sun is at its
best on the pool right now."
   She said nothing but grinned and they walked across the grass towards
the shade house.  She was carrying a beach bag and once inside the shade
house she dropped it on a chair and took out a bulky towel.  She also had
some sun block.  His interest increased with the sight of the sun block. 
Visions of applying it to her nubile body flashed through his mind.
   "So, let's get wet," she said matter of factly.
   With that she peeled off the shift to reveal a sky blue bathing suit
with steeply cut leg holes that accentuated the vee between her legs. 
Stephen wondered at her mother approving of such a revealing costume.  As
she stretched to pull the shift over her head he quickly glanced between
the slim limber legs.  His heart skipped a beat.  Her mound was highlighted
clearly by the stretched fabric of the bathing suit, which looked like it
may have been last year's model before a recent growing spurt.  It was just
a little tight.  The tightness also accentuated the vee of her mound and
inner groin.  He groaned silently to himself as he made out the faint
depression the tight fabric had created between her labia.  His mind raced
with anticipation.  This all took about 3 seconds, and she discarded the
shift on top of her beach bag and grinned and nodding her head pool wards
she turned and walked outside.  He stood momentarily and watched her
beautiful young form move towards the pool edge and by the time he had
moved to follow, she went into a dive at the end of the pool and vanished
out of site with a splash.  He walked to the end of the pool and she was
standing in the pool about half way; running her hands through her hair.
   "Come on slowcoach," she called to him.
   Stephen grinned.
   "This is for you," he said with a chuckle.  "You enjoy the pool for a
while then I'll come in as well," he continued.
   She frowned at Stephen.
   "Chicken-licken," she challenged and made a poor attempt to splash him.
   She turned and swam to the far end.  It wasn't really swimming; more of
a frantic thrash.  Poppy was not a very accomplished swimmer.  Fortunately
the pool was no deeper than four foot at the deeper end.  There was really
only about an eight inch fall from one end to the other.  Mainly for
draining come pool cleaning time.  So when she arrived gasping at the end
she was able to stand easily and lean back and regard Stephen watching from
twenty five feet away.  She stood with her hands up to her face and cleared
her nose.  Then she pushed forward and made a very messy attempt at
breaststroke.  He watched her for a few minutes and went and sat on one of
the loungers.  Poppy thrashed and splashed happily and he grew more and
more determined to have this young girl.  Finally she made her way across
to the side and looked up at Stephen.
   "This is s-o-o-o cool," she beamed.  "Not cool cold, but cool neat," she
giggled as she realized the pun she could have been making.
   Her visit passed without any impropriety on his part.  Stephen was
determined to gauge her reaction and comfort of his being in the pool with
her; and her acceptance of his less than modest swim suit.  The time went
quickly; she staying no more than an hour and a half.  They swam together
and chatted and Stephen felt she was a rather lonely child and she had
already reasoned she was her parents show toy to their friends.  She said
they spent more time talking about her to their yuppie friends, than
actually talking to her.  They were affluent but quite strict on not
lavishing her with clothes or gifts.  Their expensive tastes went to her
schooling and family holidays and regular dining out.  But she boarded at
her school in the city from Monday to Friday; and by her reasoning, so her
parents could indulge their social activities as if she didn't exist.  It
was kind of an indictment on them as far as Stephen could see.  Even if
this wasn't true of them, the fact she felt this way was sad.  Not quite
thirteen years of age and already quite cynical and insecure about her
place in their lives.
   Poppy came to the pool for three consecutive Saturdays and each time
their friendship grew.  She never seemed self conscious about her body in
the tight blue bathing suit and Stephen had many delicious views of her
budding breasts pushing back at the firm fabric across her chest; the perky
nipples as they hardened in the water.  He also became sneakily familiar
with the tight vee of her crotch; even to the sight of the pronounced
furrow made by her labia.  Stephen knew she was now very comfortable with
his covered yet prominent cock and balls, in the somewhat obscene bathing
suit.  Now she hardly bothered to show embarrassment or look away from him
when he stood before her with a soda or cookie; or sat with a leg hitched
up on the rattan lounger.  All designed to emphasise his cock.  He spent
the nights between her visits, crudely masturbating on his back on his bed;
naked as he jerked his hips and watched the semen arch up into the air, to
fall in splatters on his stomach and thighs.  He was obsessing about her
and desperately wanted her.  In his post ejaculation melancholia, he wept
at the decay of his moral fiber, and his coveting her; and sometimes he
wept for his dear departed Jessie.  This would never have happened if she
was alive.
   ***
   QUIET PROGRESS
   Things moved forward the fifth weekend, following one interruption for
bad weather when she did not visit.  Poppy had thrown the ball as her usual
signal and Stephen had quickly let her through the gate.  She cantered to
the pool ahead of him, her cute butt bobbing from under the shift, and by
the time he had reached the pool she had dropped her bag and shucked the
top, and dived badly into the water.  She gasped at the shock of the water
as she surfaced and cleared her nose and wiped her hair with her hands. 
She stood looking openly at his crotch as he approached.  He knew his cock
was lightly moving as he walked towards the pool.  He stopped standing on
the tiled edge.  She slowly lifted her gaze to his face.
   "Aren't you coming in?" she asked plaintively.
   "Of course; but after you've enjoyed sole use," he answered with a
chuckle.
   "Come in now," she whined.
   He looked at her pretty face.  He placed a foot either side of the
lounger and sat astride it and leaned forward.
   "You have a few more minutes then I'll join you," Stephen said.
   Stephen had sat this way deliberately and she looked up at his bulging
crotch; the outline of his penis accentuated by the way he was sitting
rather than his being erect.  He felt he had made a lot of ground in the
serious business of getting her trust, judging by the unabashed way she
acted around him now.  To date he had ensured his outward libido remained
in check.  By speaking to him, she would look at him again and she did not
avert her eyes from what she clearly saw as interesting.  Stephen knew when
she wasn't looking at his face but his `basket' straining the swim suit.
   "Come now," she whined.  "I want you to come in now," she repeated.
   It was more than he could stand; her cow-eyes pleading with him to get
wet with her.
   "Oh all right nag," he laughed, and stood and walked towards the pool
edge.
   She squealed and shoved herself out into the centre of the pool.  He
dropped easily into the water by reaching down and swinging his body weight
on one hand and into the water feet first.  He stood beside her and
squatted so his head was the only thing sticking out.  She stood and the
water came up to her breastbone, just above the swell of her small boobs.
He could vaguely make out the small pimples that punctuated the location of
her juvenile nipples.  They swirled slowly around not saying anything. 
This was becoming a bit anti climactic and he had to do something fast.
   "Can you dive?" Stephen asked
   "Of course," she said confidently.
   "OK.  Here's the challenge.  I stand a few feet from the edge with my
legs apart.  You dive in and swim between them.  We do this and each time I
move further away until you can't make it under water," Stephen challenged.
   "Pshaw," she scoffed.  "Easy peasy."
   She turned and thrashed her way to the steps at the shade house end and
quickly climbed out of the pool, flicking her fingertips in the rear of the
bathing suit leg holes as girls do.  This ensured the suit did not creep
into the butt crack, revealing more of the buttocks than was modest.  She
stood with her toes over the edge and pointed her arms ahead of her. 
Stephen moved to about ten feet from the edge and spread his legs.  Without
a word she dived towards him.  She passed under him easily and he noted she
came up about four feet or so beyond him.  She wasn't a classic swimmer but
she had gained distance with the dive and hardly moved her legs as she
porpoised under water.
   "Easy," she scoffed and surged back towards the end where she came from.
   Stephen watched her repeat the universal ritual of adjusting her suit
legs over her buttocks with the fingertips as she stepped around and into
the diving position.  He was mentally drooling at her young form.  His mind
flashed back to the numerous young Thai and Mexican girls he had sweated
over.  Poppy was similar to a lot of them but with pale fair skin.  Not the
copper bronze color he was used to.  He had moved back about three feet and
she dived in once more.  Stephen saw her under water and this time she
kicked her legs maybe three times to ensure she cleared him; low to the
pool bottom, and then she surfaced behind him with a gasp for air.  He
smiled to himself.  He hadn't moved all that far but this had required a
bit more effort and she was a little puffed as she surfaced.
   "Easy," she mocked in a singsong voice and headed back to the pool end
to repeat her effort.
   Stephen moved about four feet back this time.  It put Stephen nearer the
end.  He knew this would be a challenged based on the effort just
completed. She dived and he watched her once again wriggling her legs.  At
some point she realised she had lost the momentum of the dive and he saw
her hands go out like a penguin uses its flippers.  To her credit, she
gained more traction and was able to move her arms back to her sides as she
wriggled her legs and cleared his legs with half her body before she slowed
and had to wriggle frantically to pull her legs through.  She hit his inner
thigh and eventually struggled beyond him and surfaced with a gasp.  She
laughed out loud at the effort.  More from her nerves at nearly flunking
out, than in humor.
   "Phew...nearly," she gasped and giggled.
   She knew she almost lost it.
   "Had enough then?" Stephen mocked.
   She giggled.  "No way," and with that she surged back to the pool end to
repeat the task.
   Stephen slipped further back along the pool.  He was certain it was now
beyond her, based on her last attempt.  She was not a strong swimmer and he
was backing on her coming to grief under him.  He was prepared in case she
panicked and he stood at the ready with his legs astride.  For the fourth
time she dived in to the water.  He noted this was quite a better dive than
before and his heart sank as he realized she might get the extra distance
she needed.  He needn't have worried.  By the time she reached him she was
struggling to gain additional momentum and her efforts had seen her body
rise up nearer the surface than she needed to be to clear his legs; at knee
height as a minimum depth.  She tried twisting as her head went through his
parted legs but she had lost it and her turned body saw her shoulder catch
his crotch and stall what little momentum she had.  She came to a stop
tangled between his legs and started thrashing to clear herself and get her
head above water for air.  Stephen deliberately staggered and pushed his
body down against her shoulder, mashing his crotch and cock and balls
against her bare shoulder and arm.  He then eased back and reaching down,
and took her under her arms and lifted her clear.  She thrashed and gasped
as he brought her up for air.  As she filled her lungs and began to compose
herself, he feigned discomfort and pain and grimaced.  She finally stopped
struggling as her feet touched the bottom, with his arms still holding her
sides.
   "Mr.  Slade...Stephen what's wrong?" she gasped looking at his face with
concern.
   Stephen sank back a little and looked away appearing to be regaining
composure, and cupped his balls.
   "What's wrong?" she said with a worried tone.  "Please tell me," she
pleaded.
   Stephen changed his phony grimace to a strained smile.
   "You got me Poppy," he gasped.  "In the nads...good shot kid," he
gasped.
   Her face took on a look of stricken embarrassment but then when she saw
Stephen was smiling and chuckling at the effect of a collision, she lowered
her voice like she was about to tell a terrible secret.
   "Oh no," she whispered.  "I'm so sorry Stephen.  Really I thought I
could do it.  I'm so sorry," as she patted him on the shoulder as a sort of
consolation.
   "It's OK Poppy.  I'll be right.  Just let's take a breather for awhile,"
he said still pretending to gasp.
   She took his arm and led him towards the end of the pool.  He laughed
inside to himself as she let him use the steps to exit the pool first.  He
had broken the ice.  He had her so now to push home the advantage.  He
walked directly into the shade house.  She joined him, and taking her towel
began dabbing at her body, mopping the rivulets running down her body.  She
lifted each leg slightly and toweled inside and out.  Stephen sat back with
his legs apart, as if to recover from the alleged knock to the groin.  She
held the towel over her lower face as she peered at him.
   "OK now?" she asked meekly with concern in her voice.
   "Yep.  I think I'm right now.  I'll just check," and rose and walked to
the bathroom.
   He noted her face cloud with embarrassment as he mentioned he was going
to `check'.  He went into the bathroom and actually did a little package
arrangement.  The direction this was heading was turning him on.  It was
going nicely.  He went back into the shade house and she couldn't help but
look at his crotch.  He thought she was about to ask if he was all right
again but caught herself before she asked a question that may provide her
with more embarrassment.
   "A soda I think," he said and took two cans of Sprite from the
refrigerator.  She was sitting on one of the chairs now, with the towel
across her knees.  She took the soda and flipped the tab.  He sat off to
her side on an identical rattan chair to the one she sat on.  They sipped
in silence for a minute or two before he spoke.
   "Poppy.  Why did you cut your long hair?" he asked.
   She was a little surprised at his question.
   "What, oh the hair cut?" she said ruefully.  "It was mom's idea.  She
said it would look smart with his school uniform.  I hate it.  It's so old
fashioned.  Don't you like it either?" she asked.
   "Oh no...no...Poppy.  It's not that I hate it.  In think it is nice. 
But when you came to our street you had lovely long hair if I remember.  I
just wondered why you had it cut short," Stephen countered.
   "My mom," she said almost in derision.  "I cried for days after it was
cut.  I wanted it short and shaped into my head, if I had to have it cut at
all.  But as usual, Mommy knows best and I got this page boy cut," she said
acerbically.
   Stephen sensed Mom was not Poppy's favorite parent.
   "It's not so bad," he offered.  And it looks like it's growing longer
again," he said encouragingly.
   She shrugged.  "It's infuriating.  It's not short enough to be stylish
and it's not long enough to tie back," she said despondently and drew a
hand through the fringe and back down her head.  The hair was drying fast
but still a little matted.  The action with her hand cleared some of the
matted strands.
   "Let me look," Stephen offered.  "It's not that short you couldn't pin
or clip it back.  Behind the ears or up at the temple and leave the back
free," he volunteered.
   She looked at him with a surprised look on her face.
   "You know about hairstyles?" she asked almost incredulously.
   "I know what I like," he said firmly and stood and went behind her.
   Stephen took the hair in his hands and drew his hands through each side.
It was truly fine clean beautiful blond hair.  She started a little at his
touch but soon relaxed as he drew his hands back and forth slowly.  The
effect was to allow the hair to breath and it would start to dry as the
strands were teased open to the warm atmosphere.  Stephen shaped her hair
behind her ears, pulling it back with a part in the middle.  The shorter
hair, which was the fringe, hung over her temple and brow, as it could not
be included behind her ears.  He suggested these could be clipped up.  He
moved the longer strands back and forward from behind her ears, at the same
time letting his fingertips graze her face; and occasionally trail softly
across her earlobe.  He perceived she stiffened slightly every time his
fingertips hit the lobes.  He started to softly stroke the inside shell of
her ear as he moved the hair around.  All the while cooing softly about how
pretty she was no matter how the hair hung.  He could see she had goose
bumps on her arms.  He knew she was mesmerized by the light caresses he was
making with his fingers.  He peered down the top of her bathing suit and
could just make out the soft curve of her budding breasts.  Hen could see
the slight round of her tummy as she was half slumped in the chair, and if
he leaned a little further forward, he could just see the swell of the top
of her pubis.  She had her hands on her upper thighs, just back from the
knees.  She was breathing steadily.  He couldn't tell if there was any sort
of arousal but she clearly liked his touching her hair, ears and face.
   For the next step Stephen moved barely imperceptibly but as he did so
his stiffening cock in his bathing suit touched lightly against her right
shoulder.  She stiffened slightly at this new point of contact.  Her eyes
had been half closed but they opened quickly at the touch.  He stayed
still, except for the back and forth playing with her hair.  Then he felt
what he was seeking; the light return pressure he was hoping for.  She had
eased back against his cock, which was now hard.  He increased the pressure
against her and she reciprocated.  For what seemed like and eternity, they
stayed much like this.  After a minute or so of this pressure and stroking
and playing with the hair, he let his right hand softly trail over her
right shoulder and slowly slid it down her breastbone and into her bathing
suit top.  She turned her head slightly and he could tell by her eyelashes
she was glancing down; following his hand's progress, but she did not
change her position.  Slowly he moved his fingers over the juvenile nipple.
The small breast was firm and easily defined to his touch and the nipple,
while small, was erect.  He took it between thumb and forefinger and slowly
fondled it gently.  She didn't move and soon he heard her sigh and her lids
slowly closed again.  He was so hard.  He wanted her to touch him.  He
slowly moved around her body, all the time keeping his cock brushing
against her, from her back to her upper arm until finally he had circled in
front and he had to eventually disengage the contact between their bodies
though he had turned his wrist to maintain fondling her nipple.  As he
stood in front of her Stephen let her hair go with his left hand and slowly
reached and pushed the band of his bathing suit down so that his hard cock
sprung out and waved to an erect stop in front of her face.  She opened her
eyes at the sudden movement on his part and her dreamy expression changed
to shock and awe at his thick angry cock waving in front of her.
   Her eyes were wide and her mouth sagged open.  He tweaked her nipple and
she caught her breath.  She looked up questioning him with her expression,
and he nodded down at her.  There was a pause that seemed like eternity. 
Would she scream and jump up at this impertinence on his part?  His mind
raced with thoughts of how she could expose him for what he was; a dirty
pervert trying to take advantage of her.  Had he gone too far?  He could
not go back.  Hen would be sunk if she cried out and ran.  But finally,
ever so slowly, a hand came off her knee and she carefully touched her palm
to the side of the cock.  She tested its resilience against her finger
pressure and eventually she wrapped her hand around it and held it,
mesmerized by it.  He moved his free hand over hers and motioned her to
move it up and down.  She obliged and he moved his hand back to keep the
stretched band of his bathing suit down below the cock base and balls.  She
caught on and sat slowly jacking him.  She never moved her eyes off it as
she watched the purple head come and go as she slid the foreskin back,
over, and back.  The head glistened as the precum slicked the head and
inner foreskin as he felt his pleasure rise.  He was ecstatic.  He wedged
the stretched band of the bathing suit under the hard base of his cock
which lifted the balls up and splayed them either side of the cock.  Hen
brushed the back of his fingertips along her cheek and slid his fingers in
her ear and back again.  After she was now used to this caress he slipped
the thumb up and slid it lightly against her lips.  Hen did this slowly and
frequently and eventually pressured a little more such that she realised he
was attempting to slip his thumb into her mouth.  She parted her heart-like
lips and his thumb entered across her teeth.  He kept it there and slowly
worked it around.  Her eyelids drooped half shut and she sat in a state of
apparent trance.
   She lightly tongued his thumb.  Almost suspicious at first but she
became more comfortable with this multiple contact of fingers to nipple,
her hand to his cock, and suckling of the thumb.  He moved the thumb, all
the time slowly moving his hips to encourage the hand job.  She now leaned
her head back a little as the thumb probed and moved against her tongue. 
Her hand was stroking rhythmically.  Stephen was near bursting but held
himself back.  He slipped his thumb from her lips and slid the hand so he
cupped the back of her head.  Her eyes opened wider and she glanced down at
her handful of cock as he slowly pulled her head forward.  She had caught
the significance of his thumb in her mouth and without baulking in the
slightest; she slid her mouth wide over his cock head.  `Oh bliss!  She
catches on nicely', he thought, his ego soaring.  He regulated her head
movement, not wanting to alarm her by going too deep and her hand and mouth
began to work in concert.  He now started crooning how beautiful she
looked, and how beautiful this was; and what a sexy girl she was.  He had
her completely seduced by his silky words.  All the time he fought to
resist the overwhelming urge to simply strip her and fuck her violently. 
But that would be aggressive and totally out of context with the seduction
so far.  `I will fuck you,' he promised himself.  Eventually he would fuck
her; soon but not yet.  She would take him all right.  Just as the young
Cambodian girl had; as the young Mexican boy and Thai Ladyboy took
Stephen's thick cock in their tight asses.  Poppy would be well fucked. 
But she had to be persuaded to want to get there for herself.
   Stephen slowly let his pleasure start to consume him and he felt the
tide rising inside his balls.  He knew she would be surprised by his
cumming; even if she knew about men and ejaculations.  She would have no
idea of the physical action or the way he was to cry out.  He felt the cum
well up his cock and he gripped her hair and held her head as he suddenly
gasped aloud and the cum spewed in one long pump into her opened mouth.  As
soon as she realised his body was stiffening she opened her eyes wide and
realised her mouth was being filled with the warm salty fluid, she moved to
twist his cock one way and her head in the opposite direction.  Stephen let
the nipple go and held her hand steady while pressuring her head to stay
put as he jerked his cock into her mouth.
   "Hold it Poppy, stay with me my lovely...stay with Stephen...stay with
me," he gasped as he held her trapped and his cock pumped several long
loads of cum into her mouth.
   She struggled and gagged and he heard her groan and whine.  He feared
she was going to become hysterical so he let her hand go and let the cock
flip out; the last few shallow spurts splattering her cheek as she turned
his cock away from her mouth.  She flinched as it hit her face and she
gulped and gasped and coughed out a wad of cum which dribbled off her chin
onto her breastbone and slithered down her bathing suit top.  She gasped
and continued to cough and splutter as she struggled to get her breath
back. Stephen held her head now and stroked her and whispered and crooned
his appreciation and congratulated her on taking him.  Her chest was still
heaving as she was trying to get full control of her breathing and she
looked up at him with a look of distress.  He sensed she was on the verge
of crying but as she regained her breath, she also regained her composure.
And eventually she sat with her hands on her knees again as she calmed
down. She brought the back of one hand across her mouth and then settled
back; hands on knees.  Stephen stroked her hair and pulled her to him and
cradled her head and blessed her for being so good and strong "with a man"
as he put it.  Eventually she calmed down and he turned her head back and
looked down at her.  His cock was still hard waving between their bodies
when he kissed her deeply, pushing his tongue into her mouth.  She
initially pushed a hand to his chest as if to fend him off but as she
realised he was kissing her passionately, she relaxed and let him kiss her.
He used his tongue to make a point of tasting his cum and eventually a hand
came behind his head and she reciprocated with a juvenile kiss.  He had
her. He had picked it right.  She wanted something to happen.  She just had
no idea in what form it would come.  He ran his mouth over her cheek where
he had splattered cum; across her chin and under her jaw line where the cum
had spilled from her mouth.  He used his tongue and laved her clean of all
the stray strings of semen except that which went down her bathing suit. 
He eased back and smiled gently.
   "All clean again," he said lightly.
   She smiled nervously and looked down at her chest.
   "It ran down there she whispered," pulling the front out.
   "Let's see," he said quickly.
   Her first instinct was to remain modest but as she had just sucked his
cock to orgasm, false modesty was now redundant.  They had crossed the
Rubicon.  There was no going back.  He flipped the straps of the suit off
her shoulders and peeled the suit down her torso.  The baby fat of her
breast emerged and Stephen was stunned how perfect the little pink nipples
and aureole were.  She was perfectly formed, yet not finished in her
development.  Still a little flat chested but she would grow in time.  He
realized the cum had been smeared by the friction of the suit against her
skin.  She was certainly slick and Stephen saw the damp stain on the inside
of the now dry suit.
   "Let's gets that cleaned off you," he said in an encouraging tone.
   He was conscious his cock was still hanging over the stretch band of his
bathing suit.  He did not want to cover himself again as he was intent on
keeping the moment going.  Instead of pulling his trunks up again, he
simply discarded them.  She opened her eyes in amazement now that he was
completely naked.  He acted nonchalant and taking her arm gently, drew her
to her feet.
   "Let's go upstairs and mop you off," he suggested, and without waiting
to give her a chance to object, he walked her from the shade house into the
back of the house.
   He guided her slightly ahead of him and she mounted the stairs and he
followed, looking at her bare shoulders down to the small of her back.  The
bathing suit straps dangled beside her and he eyed the beautiful tight ass
that ascended the stairs inches from his nose.  He glanced at his semi hard
cock and licked his lips while eyeing the crease of her butt checks and the
mound of her sex from below and behind, as he looked up as he let her get a
few steps ahead of him.  He wanted to pin her there and then and fuck her
doggy fashion on the stairs.  His cock was starting to harden a little more
at his lurid thoughts.  She got to the top of the stairs and looked back
for instruction on which way to go.  He was just above eye level with her
crotch and could see the bathing suit fabric drawn into the slit between
her labia.  It was pronounced and he felt his arousal start to take over.
She went to say something then saw his cock had raised horizontal He showed
her the direction to turn with one hand and guided her shoulder with the
other.  She turned and walked quickly ahead of him.  When we came abreast
of the bedroom door he motioned her into the bedroom.  She gazed around the
spacious room with the impressive four-poster bed with canopy.  She hardly
had time to take in the expensive furnishings as he guided her to the
ensuite bathroom.  She walked in and turned to face him.  Without a word he
took the bathing suit and began to peel it off her.  She brought her hands
up as if to stop Stephen.
   "No love, we need to take it off and soak it in the basin," he said
firmly.
   She stood still so Stephen motioned her with a toss of his head.  Still
she didn't move.  He grabbed the straps and peeled the suit away and down.
Her hands trapping the suit against her tummy were ineffectual as the suit
slid over her hips and Stephen pushed it to the floor.  She shivered more
in embarrassment than from being cold at all.  But he took an arm and
motioned her to step out of the crumpled garment at her feet.  She gave up
all resistance.  It was all he could do not to ogle her but he disciplined
himself by taking the suit and dropping it in the basin.  He then closed
the plug using the lever behind the faucet and began to run warm water over
the suit.  He filled the basin and she stood behind and to his side staring
around him with her hands clasped under he chin and her elbows pressed in
against her tummy as if to shield herself.  He couldn't see her sex lips as
he was too tall and he could only look down at her hands and arms in front
of her.  He finally had the suit immersed in warm water.  Hen would wring
it out later and she would have to put it on damp.  She hovered near and he
figured she was waiting to have the smeared cum sponged off her as well. 
He had another plan for that.  He turned and she glanced down at his rigid
cock and could not help staring at it.  Once again she was mesmerized by
it. He stood still and watched her; smiling at her expression of
helplessness in being naked before him.
   "Want to touch it again?" he asked.
   She looked up at him quickly, and back at it again.  She took the
question as an instruction, and she ran a palm over the top of its length.
He looked down and saw the chubby pubis and the slight split caused by the
shape of the labia at the top of her sex, which curved away from view.  He
chuckled and lightly guided her back into the bedroom.  She turned and
looked over a shoulder at the cock bobbing as he walked and he could see a
slightly bemused look.  It heartened him that she was amused at what she
saw.  No more pussy footing.  She had been initiated and now it was more
lessons.  He picked her up under her arms and slid her back onto the bed so
her head was pointing across the width.  He eased her back so that most of
her legs were still over the edge of the bed and her butt just back from
the edge.  Without delay he lifted her legs up and wide and a caught a
quick glance at the worried look on her face as he leaned over her and
brought his tongue to her sweet slit in one swift movement.  He began to
slowly wind his tongue into her sex, catching the faint odor of chlorine
from her time in the swimming pool.  She stiffened as she felt his tongue
invade her virgin sex.  It took a few minutes for her to relax and he
sensed this, as her legs which she was holding rigid against his grip,
slowly relaxed and she allowed them to spread out of their own He sucked
and nibbled delicately and she soon began to get interested in what he was
doing.  But he did not perceive any actual climax of any sort after at
least ten minutes sucking her slit and nibbling her clitoris.  He believed
the whole afternoon was overwhelming her and she was more in a daze; though
clearly not upset or unhappy about what we were doing.  He slowly
introduced a finger into her sex and by deliberately dribbling saliva down
the line of her slit; he lubricated his fingers and pushed for deeper
penetration her until he could go no further.  She squirmed in some
discomfort as she was dry.  He worked her delicately while still sucking
and dribbling saliva as lubrication and she began to become a little more
elastic and eventually Stephen got a second finger started into her hole.
The whole exercise was taking time and it was at least ten minutes since he
first went down on her.  Eventually, with patience and care he got three
fingers inside her; just to the first knuckle yet he was happy with this.
He recalled feeling older girls just as tight and restrictive as this sweet
virgin, so he consoled himself he was on track to open her up for his cock.
   The truth is that saliva is a good start but the genitals have better
lubrication.  Stephen didn't doubt his cock was weeping precum but she
clearly was not secreting any sort of juices at all.  He knew this moment
had her in awe rather than sexual excitement.  He had a bottle of Silk
lubricant in the top of his nightstand, which was just out of reach to him;
captive by his fingers wedged tightly in her sweet sex.  He eased up over
her and nuzzled her and whispered:
   "Wait sweet darling; I have something to make it more comfy."
   Unlike down in the shade house where she was sitting upright, she was
now lying with her eyes open looking down her own body at his head between
her legs.  Matching the movements he was making with the sensations he was
causing.  He eased his fingers out and she gave a slight wince and screwed
her eyes a little.  He moved quickly to the nightstand and retrieved the
bottle of Silk.  She had turned her head to watch him; curious at what he
was doing.  He moved back and looked down at her splayed legs; her sex lips
were red from the working over he had given her, but they naturally gaped
open as well.  She had expanded noticeably.  He was determined to open her
up enough to get his cock some way in if possible.  He would fuck her here
and now.  He squeezed the slippery liquid onto the tips of the fingers of
one hand and then transferred the liquid to her inner lips and slowly into
the vaginal opening.  He repeated the dose and soon he was easing his
fingers further than before.  He fingered her steadily and with two more
applications Stephen got his three fingers in as far as he could.  She
lifted her hips to ensure the most comfortable angle as his fingers now
opened her.  He felt her body temperature had warmed up and she was now
quite elastic.  Was she getting aroused?  Maybe, but he still really
couldn't tell at all.
   He manipulated the bottle in his free hand and deftly squirted a bead of
liquid on his rigid cock.  He placed the bottle on the bed and eased back a
little so that she could see what he was doing; slicking the goo all over
his cock, until his hand had greased it nicely.  As he continued to finger
her he noted the eyelids droop and she had her mouth open slightly.  She
was lying concentrating on the hand invading her most private place.  He
silently eased forward and with his cock in one hand, eased the tip to the
back of his hand lodged in her sex; and before she realized what had
happened he slipped the fingers out and pushed the head of his cock inside
the opening.  He looked at her face and she opened her eyes and craned her
head up to look at what was happening.  In this instant as she adjusted her
body position Stephen slowly but steadily pushed forward, his legs slightly
stooped to get a straight push into her.  The lubricant had done its job
and he was able to push at least enough of his cock into her that meant he
could take his guiding hand off the cock.  She looked at him with a look of
resignation and eased herself back down.  He had her consent; her
surrender. Certainly she was not objecting.  He eased out and in slowly and
he felt her inner resistance slowly yield and soon he had enough of the
cock engaged that She started to fuck her without fear of losing the depth
of coupling so the cock might slip out.
   Stephen fucked young Poppy increasingly deeper and at some point on an
inward push, she gasped and winced.  He presumed the hymen ruptured at that
point.  He waited until her gasping had abated, then slowly began fucking
her again.  Initially, carefully; easing in and out while holding her upper
thighs and leaning over her slightly.  After about five minutes he had
penetrated deeper so most of his length was in her when he felt his cock
head bottom out in her vagina.  She was now lying with one arm splayed
above her head and the other by her side.  As Stephen gained more leverage
from depth he increased the fucking and moved his hands to her nipples,
which he began to fondle.  He was now standing between her legs with her
heels now up under her butt and her knees splayed wide as he fucked her. 
This was absolute bless.  Equal to any of the fucks he had enjoyed in
Thailand, Cambodia and Mexico; but slightly behind the bliss he had in
buggering the Thai Ladyboy.  And now he was breaking his own rule of no sex
with minors within the US; but here he was fucking a twelve, nearly
thirteen-year-old girl on the very bed where the last sex with another
person was with his late wife, two years back.  Jessie had passed away in
this bed where Stephen fucked this beautiful sweet young virgin.  Stephen
resolved this young girl would become special.  He would seek to protect
her and protect their carnal secret together.  He was now fucking her
effortlessly and she was gasping and grunting as he butted up against her
cervix.  He couldn't last much longer and soon he dropped working the hard
little nipples and grabbed her ankles and hauled them out and up over his
shoulders.  He grabbed her hips and eased her back slowly until he was
hunched over her, and simply fucked her hard until he cried out in a series
of sobs as he came into her youthful body, for the second time in an hour
on this warm balmy Saturday afternoon.  He rutted short sharp jabs as he
emptied himself deep into her warm cavern.  She was gasping louder in
discomfort as he fucked the last vestige of cum from his body.  He finally
stopped fucking and slumped forward, his head on her chest.  She had moved
her hands beside her hips and had steadied herself by gripping the heavy
bed cover as he slammed her back as he fucked her.  As he lay across her in
absolute bliss she brought first one, then both of her hands around his
back and eventually cradled him like an infant.  They lay like this for
some minutes as his cock, having finally succumbed to two strong
ejaculations within the hour, slipped from her tight warmth.  Stephen was
63, not 19.
   After a time he eased back up and let her legs down off his shoulders
and she allowed them to go to the floor so the soles of her feet were flat
on the carpet.  He took her hands and pulled her to her feet.  She took a
few tentative steps and then stopped and bowed her legs and looked between
her them.  Semen was dribbling out.  Stephen could see a small gleam of it
on one labia and she stopped and went to wipe herself with her hand.  He
stopped her quickly.
   "No Poppy.  Wait.  Let me," he said quickly.
   She looked up at him in surprise.  He guided her back up onto the bed
and she looked at him quizzically as he opened her legs and went down on
her.  She tried to stop him.
   "No.  Stephen, you don't..." her voice trailed off as he brought his
face up close and licked the external evidence of his ejaculation.
   Stephen slid his fingers in and slopped the semen from inside her vagina
and greedily slurped it off his fingers.  He had a cream pie with Jessie in
some of their more adventurous carnal behavior.  He sucked and cleaned all
of the semen he could find and finally he eased her back up into a sitting
position.  She smiled her appreciation and he moved closer to her and they
kissed for some time.
   "Come on sweet lady.  Let's get you wiped up.  It's time you put in an
appearance at home."
   She grinned and nodded.  They went into the bathroom where he released
the water from the sink and threw the wet bathing suit into the bathtub.
   "Empty your bladder," he said.
   She looked at Stephen quizzically.
   "Pee...empty your bladder.  Clear your urinary tract.  It makes sure you
don't get bladder infections.  Then you can wipe yourself with a soapy
cloth," he explained.
   Sex Hygiene 101 taught to him by Jessie.  Poppy followed and with a look
of some embarrassment, she peed a long sweet smelling stream into the bowl.
She sat demurely with her hands clasped on her knees and finished and wiped
herself with a pad of toilet paper.  Stephen had run some warm water and
taken a fresh washcloth from the cupboard.  He soaped the cloth and handed
it to her.  She had pretty much shed her inhibitions and she wiped her
crotch, being tender with her sex lips.  She finished and handed the cloth
back.  He rinsed it in the basin and then with more soap, wiped his groin,
balls and cock and back up his butt crack.  He had perspired a bit during
his exertions in her body.  He slyly showed off his cock and balls and she
sat transfixed watching his ablutions.  He turned and picked up the wet
bathing suit and he wrung it tightly, expelling the excess water.  He did
this a few times until he got all he could out of it with his hands.
   "We'll give it a few minutes in the drier," Stephen said.  "It's not
nice to get into a wet bathing suit"
   He took a bathrobe from behind the bathroom door and belted it up.  She
looked lost as he was now covered yet she was still naked.  He grinned at
the obvious imbalance here and went and took a clean T-shirt from a drawer
and she pulled it over her head.  It looked like a long dress on her and
she grabbed the hem and did a swirl and curtsy in front of the bedroom
mirror.  He grinned and holding his arm as if to escort her into a
ballroom, they went down stairs and dropped the bathing suit in the drier
and turned the timer to 10 minutes on low heat.  He took two sodas from the
fridge and guided her out into the shade house.  He sat in the easy chair
and motioned her to sit on his lap, which she did.  They opened the sodas
and took a drink in silence.  He felt the warmth of her body in his lap but
his cock was safely asleep.
   "You OK?" Stephen said softly.
   She nodded and gave him a warm smile.
   "You sure you're Ok?" Stephen asked.
   She nodded more enthusiastically this time.
   "I wanted something to happen the first moment I saw you," she confessed
quietly.
   Stephen grinned broadly.
   "Me to," he agreed.
   She looked a little surprised.
   "You did?  But I'm so young.  You know...under the right age."
   She was being a diplomat.
   "Yep ma'am.  I really fell for you.  You are so beautiful."
   She blushed.
   "I've thought about you every night I've been away," she said some what
sheepishly, and looked at him with a slightly embarrassed grin.
   "Oh...how so?" he said looking at her intently.
   She grinned mawkishly and looked away.  After a moment she looked back.
   "I kept thinking about...it..." she tailed off.
   "It?" he asked in mock ignorance.
   "Your thing, your...you know...penis," she said and put her hand to her
mouth and giggled.
   "You thought about it every night?" he asked feigning surprise.  "Why
so...?"
   "It was so big.  In your bathing suit.  I wondered what it was like,"
she said almost relieved to get her confession out.
   "Poppy I am so pleased," Stephen said with a chuckle.  "And you needn't
wonder ever again.  You can see...and feel him, any time you like."
   "I know..." she gushed and beamed.  "I can feel him now to..." she said
and squirmed on his lap.
   Stephen pulled her down against it.  He wasn't hard.  Just a nice warm
languid feeling in his groin.  In truth he was spent.
   "It's my cock Poppy.  It's your cock to," he smiled as he lightly ground
against her butt.
   She beamed and cuddled against him.
   "Thank you," she said quietly and kissed his cheek.
   They sat silently for about ten minutes and then he motioned her to hop
off his lap, and she stood holding the soda can, waiting to see what he was
going to do.
   "I'll see if the bathing suit is dry and nice and warm to put on," he
smiled at her.
   She grinned and nodded her agreement, and drained the last of her Sprite
while Stephen went back to the laundry.  The drier had stopped and he
reached in and took the warm garment out.  It looked tiny in his hand; no
bigger than a dishrag.  He went back out into the shade house and offered
it to the pretty young girl.  She took the bathing suit and hummed her
approval as she felt the warmth from the drying, in the material.  She held
it to her cheek in a mock show of affection.  He smiled as she quickly
turned it the right side out and watched fascinated at how adept she was at
rapidly stepping into the costume, drawing it up her body under the
T-shirt. She did this so quickly and expertly.  He guessed he was learning
about female modesty and clothing.  She slipped the T-shirt off.  He noted
that at no time had she revealed any of her naked body.  She slipped her
arms through the straps of the suit and then smoothing it down her body she
deftly adjusted the suit around her crotch by running her fingers back to
front in the bathing suit leg holes.  He looked hungrily at the swell of
her sex between her legs as the suit fitted snugly.  She flattened the
twist in one strap and then picked her beach shift up and drew it over her
head.  She was dressed just as she had arrived for her swim with her
sandals out by the pool.  Stephen smiled as she smoothed the shift and
stood presenting herself, smiling back at him.  He took her hand and
lifting it high in his, she twirled for his approval.  He hugged her and
then they kissed.
   "Can you come again tomorrow," he asked tremulously.
   She shook her head.
   "Not this Sunday.  We're going to a party tomorrow.  Friends of my
parents.  They have a daughter about my age so I'm being taken to give her
someone to play with while the adults booze and schmooze," she said
cynically.
   Stephen understood her dissatisfaction at the situation.  He recalled
his neighbor's acerbic comment about this girl being a chattel.  He felt
Mrs.  Jessop was right.
   "What about next weekend," he asked expectantly; knowing she was away at
school from Monday to Friday afternoon.
   She nodded.
   "Of course.  Probably like today.  Consuela couldn't care less where I
was as she has all of the laundry and ironing to finish.  She's also
probably gabbing on the phone to her married daughter," she answered.
   "OK.  I'll lock the gate when you leave now, but it will be unlocked by
12:30 next Saturday," he said.
She nodded agreement and turned and looked out towards the pool and the
fence with the gate beyond.
   "Well I guess..." she said, her voice tailing off, not saying the
obvious.
   "Yes you'd better get going," he said in agreement.
   She turned to go and almost as an after thought he took her arm and
pulled her round to face him.  He took her hands in his and looked down at
her.  There was an air of apprehension in her eyes as she wondered what was
wrong.  He chose his words carefully.
   "Poppy you know we can never tell anyone about this," Stephen said
cautiously.  "You know that in the eyes of the law and the community, what
took place was very wrong." His words came as statements, not questions.
   "I know," she said softly.
   He stifled a sigh of relief.  He wasn't sure just how much she
comprehended about the gravity of what had happened.
   "No swapping confidences with school friends, or priests in
confession..." Stephen tailed off as he did not need to itemize; but had
made the point with the examples.
   "I'm not catholic," she answered.  "Even though St Mary's is a Catholic
school, they take non-Catholics too."
   Stephen smiled at her literal interpretation of confession.
   "But you know what I mean?" he asked.
   She nodded her understanding.
   "And if there is any issue, you know, health wise, please tell me
immediately so I can help," he said.
   She frowned a little and he realized she missed his point.
   "If you have any outward signs or ongoing inner discomfort from what we
did, please tell me first.  If you go to your mother or the school nurse,
they will most likely discover you are not a virgin.  Or maybe what is
wrong could only be caused by sex which you shouldn't have had," he
continued.
   She showed recognition by mouthing an "oh" without sound, as she
realised what Stephen was saying.
   "For instance there was no blood when I took your virginity, but that
may be delayed.  Some girls don't bleed, some girls do.  You didn't bleed
any today but there might be a little spot or two later this evening as
your inner body returns to normal," Stephen continued.
   "Should I use a tampon?" she asked.
   Stephen was delighted she was sharing concern for the issue Stephen had
raised.
   "Yes.  If you have them," Stephen said, not knowing if she had yet to
have periods so maybe did not have access to tampons.
   "Mom has heaps in their bathroom," she said.  "And pantie liners.  Maybe
I use a tampon and then a pantie liner and wear my underpants to bed
tonight," she volunteered.
   Stephen grinned and chuckled.  "OK.  Better to be safe than sorry," he
said.
   "And just one thing," he continued.  "I can't ever get you pregnant.  I
had a vasectomy after our last son was born.  So I can't father children,"
   She looked pleased at this news.
   "I was wondering what might happen," she said.
   "How so," he asked.
   "Pamela says you ovulate before your monthly.  So if you ovulate and
have sex, you can get pregnant without having had a period," she said
almost as a recitation.
   "Who is Pamela?" he asked quickly.
   "Pamela Warring.  She's a bossy know-it-all in my class.  She acts real
grown up but she's no different to the rest of us.  She's always going on
about having boyfriends and sex and stuff.  I think she's full of
bullshit," she said with a snarl.
   "But she's right on the pregnancy bit," he said.  "But as I said, you
are safe with me."
   He realized that was a big plus.  If they were to continue having
illicit sex, and Stephen was all for it to get bigger and better, they did
not have to worry about unwanted pregnancy.  The worst that could happen
was some physical condition leading to a medical check and the discovery
she was sexually active.  Stephen had no way of knowing how this young girl
would stand up to interrogation if a zealous health practitioner or abuse
counselor put the acid on for disclosure.  He had read just how expert some
of the counselors were in getting confessions from victims who, for
whatever reason, wanted to protect the abuser.  That and the possible
discovery of any future liaisons were his two major worries.
   "OK.  We understand each other," Stephen said wrapping up the subject.
"You'd best be on your way before Consuela misses you."
   She nodded her agreement and they walked hand and hand out to the pool
where she retrieved her sandals.  She didn't put them on but still holding
his hand, she led him across the lawn to the fence, and to the disturbance
in the ivy which hid from view the gate between the two properties.  As
they approached she turned and he embraced her and they kissed.
   "I can't wait until next week," she said softly.
   "Me neither," he agreed.
   She turned and reached through the thick green ivy and scrabbled for the
ring handle of the old gate.  He leaned over her and took the handle and
turned it.  The gate moved surprisingly easy once the lock disengaged, but
Stephen had to grab the edge of the gate and pull in short jerking
movements to open it sufficiently against the restraint of the thick ivy;
for her to squeeze through.  She slipped through and turned back and peered
at him with a sad look.  She blew a kiss from her petite heart shaped lips
and turned and was gone.  All he could hear was the dying sound of her feet
on the gravel path as she walked away from him.  He had no idea of the
layout of their property so he could only hope that she was hidden from the
view of anyone inside who might wonder where she had been, as she went to
the rear entrance of the house.  He pushed the gate closed and turned the
big key to lock it again.  He then arranged the ivy so as to conceal the
gate.  Slowly he turned and padded across the lawn and back to the shade
house.  He slumped in the chair, almost as if in defeat, and sat and
ruminated on the day's events.  There was no undoing what was done.  This
was not Thailand, Cambodia or Mexico where he could run from.  This was
where he lived.  He could not escape from this; well not in normal
practical terms.  If he were to take flight over this, it would mean he was
most likely a fugitive following discovery of the affair.  Maybe at some
point when it had to end mutually, it would be best for them just to stop
seeing each other.  But that that was all in the future.  He was smitten
with his young lover.  He hungered for her and could not wait for her to
return.
   LATER
   Three more weekends have come and gone.  Poppy has just left.  She comes
here every Saturday morning.  Today she was wearing a canary yellow bikini.
Quite conservative and modest in style.  She had asked her mother for a
bikini as her blue bathing suit was becoming too tight for her burgeoning
body.  Her mother clearly sees the young woman emerging from the girl and
she is seeking to play down her attractiveness to men, who might ogle her.
Her legs are becoming lightly tanned from the summer sun and there is just
a hint of fair hair on her arms.  Her legs are smooth and slim and she is
still just off that first bloom of full womanhood.  The straight honey
blond hair, which was cut in a sort of pageboy style, is growing and she
can make a proper short pony tale with it.  Occasionally the front bangs
hang loose beside her eyes as they have escaped from the band that holds
the pony tail; as she stoops to suck his big cock.  Her eyes are blue and
she wears a small chain around her neck with a small ruby pendant.  It
occasionally bumps against his ball sac as she sucks earnestly down on his
cock.  Poppy will soon be thirteen.  She has the cutest pert little nose
and her lips look like a small heart with a lovely dip in the middle of her
top lip below her nose.  Despite those lips being petite and her mouth
small, she is practiced enough now so she can stretch them comfortably
enough to take his fat cock head.  Stephen closes his eyes and reminds
himself of the young open flower that is her sex.  Her legs held up high
and wide across his upper arms as he grips her thighs by the knees as he
kneels and pushes into her tightness.  He sees the glistening of the
smeared lubricant making his cock all slicked and red as he steered it into
the gripping sex lips.  He cannot recall watching her face at all until
during today's last fuck; instead he is usually concentrating on looking at
his cock spreading the lips.  How the labia sucks firm at the side and how
he pushed the lips inside each time he stroked into her.  He only looked at
her face after he had finished in her, and slumped forward as she clings to
his neck and kisses him lightly.  His memory is so vivid to him as he
recalls the fucking bliss.  He becomes aroused, and as if to salute her
memory, he pulls his bathrobe open and fists his thick erect cock.  He see
his old T-shirt that she wears sometimes after sex; discarded on the floor,
and he bends and picks it up and drapes it over his rigid cock.  He closes
his fist around the cloth and this way he jacks himself to a shuddering
climax.  He watches as the semen changes the white material from dry to
wet; were it is stretched over the head of his cock.  When she visits he
can cum again and again; inside her or over her.  And she leaves, with them
both blissfully happy.  `Poppy, Poppy, my Poppy' he sighs silently.  `I
love you Poppy'.
   Stephen Slade's story continues...
   (C) 2005 Romany.  Protected by copyright law.  Please do not copy, edit,
amend or post this on any website without the author's permission.
   Read; `A Dangerous Infatuation 3: Anthony'
   Read `A Dangerous Infatuation' series and other stories by Romany at
https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/gypsey/romany/
   
  
A Dangerous Infatuation 2_Poppy