This is a story of pure fiction, involving the sexual contact
between a minor female and an adult male. If this subject offends
you, close this page NOW! If you choose to read on you must be 18
years or older. If you are not LEAVE!!!

Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely
coincidental.

Isabel

By Romany

(M/t, oral, anal)

THURSDAY:

I saw her briefly as I stepped into the convenience store on the
way back to my apartment. It was still raining steadily and I was
hurrying from the bus stop off the main route, two blocks back to
my small single roomed furnished apartment. I stepped into the
store and bought a bottle of milk. When I left the store figure
had moved across the short street and was standing in a doorway
of an office building sheltering from the rain. I glanced across
thinking it was a some sinister person lurking in the darkening
street as the sun set and the gloom of the day gave way to night.
There wasn�t a lot of street lighting in this area despite being
close to a center city shopping precinct. I needed to go to the
end of this street, turn left and then right and left again to my
apartment. I crossed over the street, fixing my eyes on the
figure to keep a wary eye in case it was a mugger of a beggar of
some sort. It was when I made the sidewalk that the figure moved
towards me from the doorway, eventually heading me off. My heart
rate had quickened and I clutched my laptop bag tightly with the
intent to swing it as a weapon if the need arose. It was somewhat
of a surprise to see the figure was a young girl. She was
probably early teens, judging by her face which was looking up at
me from the hood of a cheap nylon jacket. The sort of jacket
meant for breaking the chill of the wind and for light showers.
Not this persistent rain.  I realized the black garment was
saturated and looking down at her jeans, I noted the fronts of
her thighs were soaked. The jeans had a pronounced flare at the
cuff. This was a 70s retro look two years ago. Young girls and
women were now into the 70s retro hipsters now called low-riders.
And the fashion of the day invariably saw them held up with broad
belts, often with gaudy buckles and a series of eyelets or studs
in vertical rows. I couldn�t see the jeans above here mid thigh
as the jacket covered down that far but the immediate impression
was budget-house used clothing. She wore a dirty white pair of
Reeboks or Nike cross trainers and they were soaked as well.

�Can you spare a few dollars� said the girl in a voice with a
distinct accent.

I picked it as an accent of a person for whom Spanish was their
first language. And studying the young face confirmed she was a
Latina of some origin; perhaps Dominican, Mexican or Porto Rican.
I could see long black hair tucked inside the hood of the jacket
with some longer strands matted to her wet face. She looked
miserable. I made a move to walk around her. I detested beggars
but there was a pathetic appearance to this girl which nagged my
conscience and I simply wished the situation would go away. As I
prepared to push past she repeated her plea but this time adding
�I�ll do anything mister.� This stopped me in my tracks. Not so
much because I was being made an unspecified proposal but because
here was a young girl, maybe no more than two or three years
older than my cherished eldest daughter Ellie who was twelve. I
stopped and turned and looked at the poor wet creature standing
before me. If she was begging, she hadn�t removed her hands from
her wet pockets, most likely because she was clearly very cold. I
studied her. She had a slightly hook nose with flared nostrils. I
could tell in the gathering gloom that her eyes were brown and
she had lovely lashes. The face was slightly rounded and her
teeth were perfect. I had already worked out she was maybe a
little broad around her hips but the general impression was a
nice young figure, despite the bulky jacket.

�What are you talking about?� I said gazing into her face. �Are
you propositioning me� I added with an element of indignation my
voice.

She looked embarrassed and looked away from my gaze briefly then
turned back and her eyes locked my gaze.

�I�m so cold and hungry. I don�t know what else to do,� she said.

I picked she was on the verge of tears. I softened my initial
resistance to conversing with her. She could be my daughter.
There was a period of awkward silence as she saw me consider her
situation.

�What�s your name?� I asked as a delay in deciding what I might
do.

�Isabel� she answered lisping the ess in the name as Spanish
speakers do. �Isabel Ortiz.�

�What on earth are you doing out on such a day. Look at you.
You�re soaked� I stated almost as a reproach.

�I have left my family to find work� she explained. �But I no�
find anyone to take me.�

�Where is your family?� I continued with my questioning.

Isabel Ortiz went on to explain that she and her family had come
to the country from Mexico. Her father had been hired for a large
vineyard in the Napa region of California. Her mother had taken a
job as a housekeeper.

�But they are hundreds of miles away� I said stating the obvious.

She nodded.

�Si, Si� she answered ruefully. �I was foolish. I came to this
place with a man who promised housekeeping work with beeg, beeg
money� she said tapering off with a silent plea of understanding
in her beautiful big eyes. �But there was no work and he had some
ideas for me that I was not happy for,� she added.

I got the picture. Poor family locked into low wages by mean
housing with nowhere else to go if they rose up in objection
against their situation. So many families were trapped into a
life of poorly paid service without being able to easily break
free. They would be pushed out when they were spent, with nothing
to show for a life of hard work. And the promise of sufficient
money to educate their children never came with their children
often slipping to the roles their aging parents vacated.

�This hombre� I said lapsing into schoolboy Spanish. �Was he
gringo?� I asked.

�No senior. He was from Mexico like me and my family.�

Sadly this was also a typical situation. Ethnic groups taking
advantage of their own.

�And this hombre, did he persuade you to do anything you did not
like� I asked gently.

She nodded ruefully.

�He hurt me senor,� she said faintly.

By now she was sobbing. She was either a good actress or she was
telling the truth. I still wasn�t convinced and I looked around
the street in case there were eyes watching us. I wouldn�t be the
first person to be set up by a young nymph in distress, with a
meaner heavier presence lurking out of view; to surprise me once
I was lulled into a sense of being the Good Samaritan. I stood
and looked at her, not knowing whether to step into her problem
and offer her shelter. Once again I wished this wasn�t happening.
She gazed at me expectantly, trying to gauge what my reaction
might be.

�Did he have you go with men?� I asked gently

�Si� she sniffed. �Many men. Too many men� she added.

The guy had pimped her as an under aged prostitute. I bought her
story.

�You can come with me  for one night� I said. �Then tomorrow we
find some agency to help you reunite with your family�.

She convulsed into more sobbing in gratitude at my offer and for
the first time her hands came from her pockets and she grasped my
hand holding my laptop to shake it in gratitude. I took my free
hand from my coat pocket and draping it around her shoulder, I
steered her towards the end of the street towards my apartment. I
had taken the apartment on a week to week basis, pending the
closure of the sale of my house in my previous city; and the
prospect of my wife Jennifer and my three kids Ellie, Mark and
Brad joining me. Jen had been in town with me twice, house
hunting in anticipation of clearing our current home and the four
of them joining me when our house passed to the new owner. Our
offer on a nice four bedroom home here had been accepted and now
we were straddling the cross over period from one to the other.
It was better for Jen and the kids to stay where they were and
only have to move once. Rather than take a rented house, or
cramped motel, and have to find schools temporarily before moving
finally to out new home. I had been here 4 weeks. The rent was
affordable considering we were still meeting mortgage payments
until our house sale closed.

Once inside she looked around. Directly inside the door to the
right there was a small kitchen area with stove and fridge
against the wall to the main hallway. Beside the stove there was
a small bench and a cupboard underneath. There was a microwave
oven on top of the fridge.  Opposite the stove and fridge there
was an island bench top and sink with cupboards underneath.
Directly against the bench front was a small square wooden table
and two chairs. Opposite the kitchen area on the far exterior
wall of the room there was a large window which was the only
source of natural light. A double bed in the middle bisected the
room with the head against the wall to the next apartment. Under
the window there was a small two seat couch. To the right of the
window, in the corner there was a free standing closet.
Immediately opposite the foot of the bed there was a television
and to the right, a chest of drawers; both against the wall to
the apartment on the other side. Wheeling hard right out of the
kitchen area saw a small recess with washing machine and dryer on
one wall and a set of floor to ceiling storage cupboards against
the wall with the kitchen. Beyond was the tiny bathroom with
small shower over bath, a hand basin unit and toilet bowl.

She took in this simple scene and she looked suitably please. It
was small but felt cozy. I walked to the thermostat on the wall
and flicked it to heat. Immediately the unit kicked into life.
The room would warm up quickly. I moved to the side of the window
and closed the vertical blinds, turning them to block out the
dark outside. I turned to her. She had followed me part way
across to the windows and was standing at the foot of the bed,
feeling the duvet. She looked at me somewhat apprehensively.

�OK Isabel. I think we need to get you out of those wet clothes,�
I said cheerfully.

She looked stricken at my words.

�Hang on,� I quickly added laughingly to reassure her. �I have an
old tee shirt you can wear while we wash and dry your clothes.�

She look a little more relaxed but I could see she was still very
worried what I might have in mind.

�Isabel I want you to go into the bathroom and take a shower. I
can take your clothes and wash them and then we can place them in
the dryer so you have clean warm clothes to change back into,� I
explained.

I walked towards her and guided her towards the laundry. She
moved reluctantly but did not resist. Once abreast of the sink by
the washing machine I started to tug at her jacket. She caught on
and unzipped the cheap soaking garment. She revealed she was
wearing an blue Old Navy sweat shirt and I realized I was wrong
about her jeans. I saw the brand and realized they were actually
$80 jeans. And they were low riders as well. Someone with  money
had paid for these. The faded look was intentional. And if at
first I thought she had wide hips I realized I was wrong. She had
a very nice body. Her full boobs pushed out against the
sweatshirt and I had to admire her form. This girl was a typical
lithe Mexican girl.

�OK now I want you to go into the shower and undress. You can
wear this towel and give me your wet things,� I instructed.

She looked at me taking in the meaning of what I wanted her to
do. I handed her a big bath towel. She slowly went into the
bathroom. I went back out into the room and went to the dresser.
I rummaged around and found an old tee shirt. It would be big
enough to come down to her knees so this would do as a night gown
while her clothes were washed and dried. I headed back to the
laundry and waited. Eventually there was a click and she opened
the door part way and peeked out. I could tell she had the towel
wrapped around her body as I suggested. Instead of passing the
clothes, she opened the door further and pushed the pile of
soaking garments on the floor out to me with her foot.

�Put this on when you get dried,� I said, passing her the tee
shirt. �It�s big enough to be a long night dress,� I added.

She took the garment and giving me a quick look, closed the door.
Soon I heard the shower running. I picked up the clothes and
proceeded to load the washing machine. I was stunned by here
underwear. The panties were a red thong with crocheted lace on
the front panel and she had a lacy red matching bra. A 34B. Like
her jeans, this was top shelf quality. She had no doubt been
dressed by this pimp guy to provide the full effect to the Johns
he found her. Underage sex with all the attributes of a sexy
grown woman. I wondered how old she actually was. Being Mexican I
reasoned she may be well older than she looked. They tended to be
younger looking for their age. I placed everything in the washer
together and after adding detergent, set it to wash. I realized I
was still wearing my coat so I hung it on a hanger on one of the
laundry cupboard door handles. I then took her soaking jacket out
of the wash tub and hung it on the corner of the door to drip and
dry. I went into the living area and shucked my suit, hanging it
in the closet. I dressed in Levis and polo shirt and went into
the kitchen and opened the freezer. I had a packet of lamb chops
and I placed them in the microwave to defrost. Over the next
twenty minutes I prepared potatoes and vegetables. I had a
vegetable steamer for the carrots and broccoli. I placed the
potatoes in a pot and started cooking them on the stove. Once the
chops had defrosted I placed them on a plate ready to broil them
once the potatoes had softened so that I could time the cooking
for everything to be ready together.

As I was cooking dinner she eventually appeared. The tee shirt
was just like a night dress, coming down around her knees. She
was dabbing her wet hair with the towel in an attempt to dry it.
I smiled and she gave me a weak smile back as she continued
attempting to dry the long hair.

�I have a hair dryer,� In offered. �It�s not salon quality but it
may help.�

She nodded approval and I motioned her to the far side of the
bed.

�Sit here and dry your hair. Use the mirror in the closet door
while you sit on the bed,� I said.

She saw what I was meaning and she perched on the side of the bed
and picked up the dryer, dropping the damp towel on the carpet.
She turned the dryer on and at that point I returned to the
kitchen ready to broil the lamb chops, leaving her pulling down
her hair in handfuls while she trained the dryer along the length
of her raven tresses. I continued preparing the meal wondering
what this young girl�s story was. I was somewhat incredulous that
an hour ago I got off my bus to hurry through the wet streets for
a quiet night. Now here I was with a beautiful young girl sitting
on my bed dressed only in one of my old tee shirts. I thought of
her comments in the street about �do anything� for help. And what
she meant when I asked did she �perform� on men. Her answer �many
men�too many men.� I had no doubt she had been sexually abused
and by the sounds of it many times. I thought of my twelve year
old daughter Ellie. I could not imagine my darling young girl
being taken by anyone let alone �too many men�.

I thought about Isabel and her age. I had no doubt she would be a
real turn on for many men. The red underwear, the obvious pert
breasts I had seen jutting against the shirt she now wore. I
wondered what she looked like naked. I had seen Ellie grow up at
various stages of her development. I had seen her naked up until
about a year ago. As a little girl her nudity was no issue. Bath
time, bed time or any time I supported my wife with her. When she
got to maybe nine or ten it seemed right to allow her privacy in
times I might previously been present with her nudity. When she
was eleven she had a bad case of glandular fever and was in bed
for some time. I recall having to give my wife a break and help
giving my daughter sponge bed baths. Despite attempting for the
utmost decorum in this task I couldn�t help but see her young
sex. It gave me no pleasure nor provided anything other Tthan
concern as I maneuvered her in bed to keep her clean and
comfortable. Now she was nearly thirteen I knew she was going
into puberty. The fleshy chest becoming breasts; the widening
hips and narrowing of the waist and as my wife smiling assured
me, pubic hair in all the right places and no doubt her first
period just weeks away perhaps. And here was Isabel. Not much
older, having been prostituted on the streets with adult males. I
regarded how lucky my young daughter was in having my wife and me
to protect and nurture her and her brothers. In Isabel�s case it
seemed all too familiar and predictable that disadvantaged kids
became the easily exploited. What future for her. I resolved to
help her and see if we could get her back to her family.

I asked Isabel if she was ready to eat. I had the two plates
piled with the food and had placed knives, forks, salt and pepper
and a plate of butter on the table. She was combing her hair with
her splayed fingers and finishing the drying. I had noted that
every time she sensed me looking her way, she watched me in the
mirror. She turned the dryer off and rose, demurely pulling the
shirt down just in case it accidentally rode up. She had no
panties on. She was conscious of the material pulled over her
breasts and she pretended to scratch her shoulder covering her
breasts with her arm. She arrived at the table and I motioned her
to sit down. To my delight, she looked at the food and clasping
her hands uttered silent thanks for the food. Initially we ate in
silence. She was clearly hungry and she concentrated on eating,
hardly looking at me. I encouraged her to pick up the chops and
chew the meat from the bone and she gratefully acknowledged my
suggestion and gnawed the bones clean. This allowed me to study
her and I did note the presence of her hard little nipples poking
against the cotton shirt. I had pieced together her figure from
various angles, clothed and semi clothed. She was really very
beautiful.

Gradually she began to respond to my questions. She had been
enticed away from her family with the promise of work. Instead
she had been locked in a room. With some difficulty she repeated
that after a while men were brought to the room. At this point I
saw the memory was causing some distress so I stopped that line
of questioning and asked her about her family. This was an
altogether better tack and she told me she was cared for by her
grandparents who both worked for a landowner in the northern part
of California. Her parents had branched out further and were now
working on contracts in San Diego. This way they maximized their
earning capacity. At this point I asked how old she was. She was
fourteen. I had guessed about right. She had a younger brother
and sister and there was her big brother Michael who worked in
Los Angeles. She was obviously very proud of Michael but when I
asked what he did she confessed she was not sure. And seemingly
Michael had not been in touch for some months. I asked her who
had brought her here and she told me it was a friend of her
cousins in San Diego who had traveled to meet her. Her
grandparents ordered him away but his initial promise of high
paid work was a real attraction and she stole away to meet him.
He filled her with stories of big money, nice clothes and good
living. This way I pieced together how she had been coerced away
from her grandparents. I was silent for a few minutes.

�Did Michael know your cousin?� I asked.

�Si, yes� she answered. �Michael was Juan�s friend to.�

Given Juan had traveled all the way from San Diego to talk with
her, I had a fairly strong idea brother Michael may well have
pimped his sister to his cousin as a prospect for prostitution.
And moving here to the mid-west where Mexicans were not as
prevalent meant a better market for perverts seeking some dusky
flesh. I decided to leave my questions at that. There was the
bigger question of what to do tomorrow. Where to go to report her
plight and get her back to California? She ate all her food. I
had placed two lamb chops each on our plates with two more on the
bench. I asked her if she wanted more and at first she said
nothing apart from a halfhearted mumble which I took as a �no.�
However after insisting and no further response, due I felt to
politeness, I rose and brought the chops to her plate. I shared
the two between us and then portioned out the last few
vegetables. She polished off the seconds and left the chop bones
cleaned of meat and the plate clean of any scraps of food other
than the bones. I rose to take the plates to the bench but she
jumped up and gathered them before I could move any further. Her
quest for politeness caused her to forget her dress code and I
was delighted to see her young breasts bounce behind the cotton
as she moved to scrape the bones onto one plate, stacking the
plates with the knives and forks and whirling away around the
bench to the sink. I caught a brief glimpse of upper thigh and
lower buttock as she whirled in turning. I found myself oddly
attracted to her as a young woman. My comparison with Ellie my
daughter fading quickly as I regarded her as any man would.

 She found the dish washing liquid and began to fill the sink. I
stood at her elbow with a towel and she motioned me to put it
down and go and sit down. I chuckled at her directing me to relax
but I knew she wanted to at least pay for her meal by doing the
dishes. Instead of sitting I said I would check the clothes as I
believed the washing machine had stopped. I went into the laundry
and the machine had indeed finished. I opened the lid and began
transferring the damp clothes to the clothes dryer. I paused when
I picked the panties out and pushing the door not quite closed, I
held them up and examined the tiny scrap of material with the
thin string linking it to the waistband at the back. I shook my
head at the garment but the thought of her wearing this was
somehow alluring. I chastised myself for my unseemly thoughts. I
scooped the last garments from the machine. The red bra and a
sock caught under the agitator. It was feeling for the sock that
I spotted a sliver of silver paper or suchlike under the base of
the agitator. I fished it out and to my surprise held up two
sachets of what were obviously condoms. I gazed at them ruefully,
remembering what she must have gone through. The condoms were at
least a good sign she practiced safe sex. The sachets were still
joined at the perforation between them and apart from the
lettering on the foil packaging being water faded; the foil
itself had not been broken. And as I had my wash on cold wash
cycle there was no chance that hot water could affect the rubber
contents. I slipped the packet into my jeans pocket. After I
started the dryer, I returned to the living room and stood beside
her as she was now drying the dishes. Her shy modesty had
dissolved with my hospitality and in the attempt to even the debt
by doing the washing up, her form was easily seen behind the tee
shirt as she vigorously dried the dishes. Her hip, her breasts,
the valley between her butt cheeks, and the swell of outline of
her pubic bush clearly identifiable behind the cotton. She now
held her head higher and there was a confidence in her actions I
had not seen earlier. I sensed she was now comfortable with me,
and sure I meant her only help and support. Out on the street,
she must have truly reached rock bottom to ask for money; even
�do anything�. I was a man. Men had abused her. She could have
moved two blocks downtown or waited for anyone who might pass by
to ask for help. Maybe she had done this already before I came
along. Perhaps she had been repeatedly ignored. She cleaned the
bench down and rinsed the suds from the sink.

�Would you like to watch some television� I asked.

She said yes but I felt it was only to be respectful to me for
offering. I went and turned the TV set on and picked up the
remote. I motioned her to the bed and offered her the remote. She
blushed at the offer of using the bed to watch TV and she shyly
shook her head.

�Don�t be silly. It�s the best place to watch from,� I gently
scolded.

I walked to the bed and pulled the pillows from under the covers
and plumped them one on top of the other and motioned her to the
bed once more. She smiled embarrassed so I walked to her and
slowly guided her to the bed and reluctantly she climbed up. She
showed more expanses of leg and a brief flash of a pretty butt
cheek. I handed the remote and as if to show I wasn�t at all
interested in her on the bed, I started to remove my laptop from
my brief case at the end of the bench unit. She watched me and
soon realized I had no thought of joining her. The condo complex
had WiFi so I powered up the laptop and started some work I had
planned to do that night. Once she realized I was otherwise
occupied, she relaxed and settled back on the bed against the
pillows. She surfed the channels for a short while finally
settling on a Spanish language channel. I turned at the sound of
the foreign tongue and realized she was watching a Mexican soap.
I smiled. Young girl�s world wide liked glamorous young woman and
men in situations of angst. My Ellie was a huge OC fan. I hated
it and saw it as the modern day drug store pulp paperback. Within
a half an hour I was absorbed in my work and not really taking
any notice of Isabel. At one point she got off the bed and I
looked up. She had gone into the laundry, presumably going to the
bathroom. She returned a few minutes later and got back up on the
bed. She returned to the TV program.

I wasn�t sure how much more time slipped by but I realized the
noise of the dryer had ceased. I rose to go and check if the
washing was really dry and glanced at her on the bed. I stopped.
She had fallen asleep. She was lying back against the cushions
which had slipped down a bit and her arms were splayed out either
side of her. Her legs were splayed apart and as I moved silently
towards her I could tell she was out like a light with her head
turned away from where I stood. I could clearly see the swell of
her breast and the slight blip where her nipples pushed at the
material. I moved slightly to my left towards the foot of the bed
and I was now looking up the length of her body. The cotton of
the shirt had sagged into a valley between her legs and I could
clearly make out the tangled bush of her pubic hair pushing the
material. Just below this bump the material had swooped in and
covered her inner groin and the shape of her vulva could be seen,
with a faint hint of the slit between the labia. I felt my mouth
go dry.  I stood and imagined what had been done to her. Who had
been between those young thighs? What number of men, perhaps some
like me, had pushed into her and left their greasy deposits.
There she was on my bed. I could simply lean forward and
overpower here and take her like a whore that she was in danger
of becoming. Did I have the guts to go that far and jeopardize my
life and my future liberty? This was not an anonymous situation.
No rude room where unknown men came and went. No, I had a lease,
and I was easily traceable if I was to take her. I swallowed hard
at the thought of being incarcerated for violating this girl, not
much older than my own daughter. How many men with daughters her
age had rested after spending inside her young sex? Never
admitting their indecency; which they would scream murder for if
it were perpetrated on their girls.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, I tore myself away. I
moved silently into the bathroom and shut the door. I sat on the
toilet, noting the seat was already down and admonished myself
for what I had just thought I could do to her. But irrespective
of what I was telling myself as a chastisement I was shocked to
realize I was semi erect. The sight of the outline her young sex
had aroused me. I sat there and thought about the situation. I
had a fourteen year old would be prostitute on my bed. I had her
condoms in my pocket. I swallowed hard and realized I was
sweating. I was getting harder as I contemplated the facts. I
could do anything, as she had promised to do anything on the
street. I sat confused, arguing with myself in my head. My rising
cock was now talking in this conversation as well. I pulled it
out and looked at it. Two weeks since Jen had been with me. Two
weeks since great sex. Since then I beat off every day. Just
before sleep and in the shower. I would image Jen in bed with me.
Or showering together as we sometimes did. Dreams to beat off to.
I rose and silently went into the laundry, my cock slipping back
inside my jeans flies as I stood up. I quietly opened the door of
the dryer and rummaged around. I found the red thong. I clasped
it to my chest like Oliver twist stealing bread, and scuttled
back into the bathroom, locking the door. I dragged my cock out
again. I was now fully erect. I sat on the toilet seat and draped
the lacy scrap of material around my cock with my hand. I slowly
started to stroke myself, visualizing the young sex lying between
the lithe legs splayed open on my bed. I didn�t last long. Three
minutes at most. I was stroking rapidly with the panel of the
thong fully encapsulating my cock and I came hard with a stifled
cry of anguish and watched the material grow rapidly wet and
darker in color as my semen was trapped under it against my
cock�s head. The wetness spread quickly and by the time I had
finished, the entire panel of the thong was soaked and smelled of
the musky funk of semen. I held the material to my nose and
sniffed. I could still detect the faint odor of the soap powder
and the other clothes the thong had been dried with.

Finally I rose and walked to the hand basin. I ran some warm
water and quietly I washed my cum from the nylon panties. It took
about five minutes of gentle rubbing with face soap and I was
able to rinse the panties with cold water. I tucked my cock back
in and quietly moved back to the laundry. I dropped the panties
back in the dryer cabinet, and selecting 10 minutes on the timer
I set the dryer going again. Ten minutes with the warm clothes
already in the dryer would see the nylon quickly dried. I walked
out into the living room. She had turned on one side, facing the
window with her back to me. I stood and started to figure out
what our sleeping arrangements would be and how to broach
whatever I came up with, with her. I knew one thing; what ever
happened in our sleeping arrangements tonight, I knew I wanted
this young beauty around me for a day or two more. Of that I was
sure. She had touched something deep inside. Something I did not
know about. I realized I was attracted to her. I wanted more time
alone with her. I reluctantly admitted to myself that I desired
her. I stood beside the bed behind her. She had curled up on her
right side with her hands drawn together in front of her chest.
The tee shirt had been trapped under the hip she lay on and it
was taught across her left hip and buttock. Her legs were cocked
at the knee and her feet trailed behind her, one above the other.
I could see the upper left thigh pressing her right thigh,
against the bed. I gently knelt on the bed beside her, not
wanting to wake her. I needed to move her further to the far side
of the bed to leave room for me. I decided to roll the top cover
over her from behind her. This would wrap her into it like a
sleeping bag without the long zipper to join it. I would then
pull back the duvet and top sheet behind her and this way I could
get into bed behind her; shielded by the bedclothes covering me,
and the duvet wrapped over her. If she woke and found me in bed
with her, she would quickly realize we were separated by the
cover and the duvet she lay on, with me under it. If the small
sofa was in any way comfortable I would have suggested we make a
bed for her there. But it was more for show than sitting on. And
anyway, she was now asleep so I did not want to disturb her. I
looked at my watch. It had gone ten thirty. Time for bed.
Discretely I removed my jeans and shirt and after a quick round
of the light switches, I gently pulled the covers back and
slipped into bed behind her. I lay on my back for awhile and then
deciding I had had enough dramas for one day, decided it was best
to follow her example and try and sleep. Many more questions to
be asked. But that could wait until tomorrow.

FRIDAY

I slept fitfully. The whole situation of having a teen girl
alongside me in bed, albeit separated by the duvet, was a bit
troubling. In contrast, every time I woke, I was sure she was
sleeping soundly. At some point I was actually asleep when I felt
the bed move and I woke up. I lay straining my senses to
determine what was happening and felt her get off the bed. I
could see her silhouette against the dull light from the window
and tracked her as she moved down the side and around the foot of
the bed. I could feel her hand rubbing along the bed. She was
navigating around the bed by touch. It was harder to see where
she was against the internal walls of the room and I sensed
rather than saw she moved to the door to the laundry and bathroom
area. I lay listening hard to try and ascertain what she was up
to. Thinking she was looking for her clothes which I knew were
still in the clothes dryer. Instead I heard the steady hiss of
her taking a piss. I breathed easier. Comfort visit. I heard the
flush of the toilet and soon I detected her presence moving back
into the room. Her silhouette evident once again as she tracked
around the bed, and then she was tugging at the blankets. I had
rolled the bedspread over her when she fell asleep. In the dark
she had become disoriented with the cover she had been sleeping
under and I realized she was pulling the duvet and top sheet back
as you would normally do to get into bed. I deduced she had not
realized she was only under the duvet for her previous sleep. I
felt her slide under the covers and she lay, not touching me. I
feigned sleep and eventually at some point I drifted off again.
Maybe because I felt easier there was no ulterior motive, yet to
be revealed, on her part.

I wasn�t sure how I got this way but at some point before
daybreak, I became aware of the warmth of her body. As I cleared
the sleep from my head I worked out I was lying on my back and
there was a warm body nestled against my side. I realised she was
lying in the crook of my arm and she was turned part towards me.
What was shocking at first, was I realized she was fondling my
semi hard cock! I say shocked at first, but as I become harder,
my head noted my cock enjoyed the foreplay. It had been nearly
two weeks since Jen had visited to look for a house which was the
last time I had sex other than masturbation. And this young
girl�s hand was hitting the spot nicely. My mind was racing with
thoughts that this was wrong but delicious. And as my conscience
wrestled hard with my libido, I did nothing to stop her, handing
victory to my libido. She had started with her wrist resting
lightly on my groin and simply fondled my cock. But now as I was
hard her hand came off my body and she was deliberately jacking
her hand up and down the shaft which she held clear of my body.
Occasionally she let the fingers massage the head only and I was
aware it was slick with precum. The hand went sliding to the base
of the shaft, taking the foreskin so the head was totally
exposed. Then she would slide the foreskin up the shaft and then
lightly slide her hand over the entire length. I realized there
was a pattern to her stroking. This was learned. This wasn�t
random and she was no novice at this.

As If to affirm my acceptance of her hand-job, I touched her
shoulder with the hand of the arm around her neck and gave her a
squeeze of acknowledgment. She realized I was awake and turned
her head up to look at me. I nodded slightly and she met my gaze.

�Is good?� she whispered softly.

�Is very good,� I replied contentedly.

She smiled at my appreciation of her handiwork.

�You help Isabel so Isabel is good to you,� she said quietly.

She pronounce Isabel as Eetha-bale

I was getting towards the point where I needed firm deliberate
strokes and I also knew I did not want to waste the impending
ejaculation by allowing it to splash onto the sheets or my body.
I did not want to waste it.

�I want Isabel to take me in her mouth,� I said evenly.

She tilted her head back to look at me and gave a light snorting
laugh. An almost �typical male� chuckle of derision. Without a
word she bent down and pushing her body back so her head could
fit the gap between our bodies, she zeroed in and I soon felt her
mouth close over the head of my cock. If the hand-job was
learned, so to was her cock sucking. The hand remained part of
the action but the mouth roved over the head and she took me into
her mouth as far as her hand clamped around the base would
permit. The hand was her assurance I would not try and deep
throat her and cause her to gag. But she was more than proficient
at the entire action and soon I felt my cum start to boil in my
shaft and soon I was gasping and spurting hard into her mouth. I
placed a hand over head in case she tried to pull back of the
spurting cock. I needn�t have worried as she hung onto me tightly
and kept her mouth working me even as I flooded it. She expertly
took the whole load and soon I was calming down as the last few
dribbles were milked from me by her still jacking hand and
swirling tongue. I dropped my hand away from her head and lay
back sated. She took this as a sign to surface and she quickly
came back up and nestled back in beside me. I twirled her hair
with my hand around her shoulder and I stroked her arm with my
free hand. A sign of confirmation it was a good job well done.
She looked up at me again and smiled.

�Isabel be happy for you again and you help Isabel,� she said
confidently.

I knew what she meant. I heard a voice say �Isabel can stay as
long as she likes and be as nice as she likes.�

Christ was that my voice? Am I now prepared to go with her again?
Perhaps further? I hear no more voices and we lie like this as
the daylight starts to fill the room beyond the drapes pulled
together. They are thin and don�t really keep out the sunrise.

I wake about six forty-five and ponder the situation. In bed with
an under aged Mexican girl who has sucked me off. I have a
daughter not much younger than her, and I have a deep moral
repugnance of pedophiles and child molesters. I am feeling little
or no remorse having enjoyed one of the best blow-jobs ever. I
wish my wife Jennifer was more enthusiastic about sucking my
cock. She only ever does it as a matter of respect and usually
under some light duress. And what is worse I am thinking about
the red thong in the clothes dryer and mentally I have projected
this girl�s age way beyond what it actually is and I am now
thinking how much I want to have her. She is petite and I think
she will be tight. But she has been hooking for some months since
being brought her so I know she has had many grown men. Probably
men who do not give a fuck about pushing too deep into her or
whether or not it hurts her. They would have rutted her as deep
as their carnal desires wanted to take them. I was under no
illusion she was rarely consenting to the sex but also knew she
was programmed to obey unless she was punished in some way. In
short, I had a hooker that would do as I wanted with little or no
objection. The only difference with me was I had already
demonstrated I would physically care for her and help her.
Whatever that meant beyond the meal, the warm bed, and clean
clothes to put on I don�t know.

I rose just after seven and went into the bathroom. I stood and
shaved and then turned the shower on and soon I was sudsing my
body and washing my hair. As I showered I became aware she was
sitting on the toilet. I could see her image behind the opaque
curtain of the shower over bath. I heard the toilet flush but she
did not leave the bathroom but stood looking at my image behind
the curtain. I pulled it back and motioned her towards the bath.

�Do you want to get in?� I asked.

�You think?� she asked. �I shower last night.�

�We should shower every morning,� I smiled at her.

She considered my words and then simply shucked the over sized
tee shirt I had given her and climbed in behind me. I drew my
breath at her naked flesh. She was a typical Mexicana girl.
Lithe, and slim with very exotic body. There was a dark triangle
of pubic her and I caught a glimpse of the pink lips of her labia
as she put one foot into the tub, before straightening up behind
me. I stepped to the side and guided her forward and she replaced
me under the full stream of the shower. She turned towards me and
the water cascaded over her hair. She fanned the wet tresses
either side of her face and pushed her hands over her face to
remove the strands matting against her cheeks. I handed her the
soap and instinctively she began soaping her arms and body while
she looked at me. There was only a small amount of water hitting
my body and I knew eventually I would start to feel colder as my
wet skin returned to room temperature; cooler than the shower. I
contemplated getting out of the shower and leaving her to wash
her body and hair when she reached for my cock with a soapy hand.
It took me by surprise. Her aim was good and she closed the hand
around me and transferred the suds to my cock and pubic area. She
brought the soap against it and now using both hands she
proceeded to stroke me with the soap, and grinned and looked at
her work intently as I came up hard as a rock. I have never had
sex in the shower before; or in a bath for that matter. My sex
life has been somewhat old fashioned to date. But I was hard and
my cock was telling my head it wanted to be buried in this young
girl�s body.

I took the soap from her and reciprocated her actions by moving
it to her sex and slowly rubbed it in her vulva. With her back to
the shower, most of the water was hitting her head and shoulders
and so the rivulets running down her pert breasts and the trough
between them, was cascading lightly into her pubic hair. This
made just enough water for the soap to leave the slippery film on
her labia and inner groin before slowly rinsing away; only to be
replaced by the next soapy film caused by my slowly rubbing her
crotch with the soap. I started to work the soap further down her
slit and soon I could feel her whole sex was slick and greasy
from the soap and just enough water. She knew instinctively what
I was doing. I was greasing her using the soap. I was careful not
to push it too far into her as it would likely sting. I quickly
transferred my soapy hand back to my cock and lathered it. She
looked down and then looked me in the eye. She smiled and run her
pink tongue over her bottom lip. The effect of this was
electrifying and galvanized me into action. Dropping the soap I
grabbed my cock and moved suddenly towards her, the other hand
going under the buttock closest to the side of the bath. She
braced one hand against the wall and lifted the foot closest to
the wall, up on the narrow ledge of the side of the bath. This
way she opened herself up and as I neared she took my hand and
drew me to her sex. I held her hips and lifted slightly and she
helped by going up on her tiptoes of her foot on the bath floor.
She was still too low so I grabbed her butt firmly and lifted her
foot off the bath floor and stooping slightly at the knees, she
gauged the correct height by pulling the head of the cock to her
sex. This way we moved in unison as I stooped a little more and
she pulled the cock in and slowly she guided me into her slick
hole. I adjusted her once I felt engaged and let her slide back
slowly as I impaled her. She sighed and I saw a brief look of
discomfort on her face. I paused and looked at her quizzically
�are you alright?� She smile fleetingly and I took this as an
�OK� sign and slowly began to move up and in and then down and
out. Several times she pulled a slight grimace and I knew this
wasn�t all that comfortable for her but I persevered with care
and soon the grimacing stopped and I held her and slowly lifted
her up and down on my cock. My cock was now nestled deep in her
without causing any further discomfort.

I fucked her carefully this way for a few minutes but quickly
became frustrated I could not get all of my cock in her. She
clung to me now and the foot propped up the side of the bath was
a hindrance as it would slip off and we would lose balance
together and nearly fall. Had we been a better match for height,
sex this way would have seen both of us sharing the weight of our
bodies and we would have better balance. But she was about five
feet three bare feet and I was just on six foot. I was becoming
less enthusiastic about the mismatch but desperate to fuck her
deep and cum hard. Finally I decided for a more direct approach
reminiscent of the animal world. With a groan of exasperation
slipped out of her and she stood confused at what I was doing. I
turned her quickly, feeling the blast of the water on my chest
and leaning my body sideways away from the cascading water I
coaxed her to lean forward and place her hands flat against the
shower wall. She understood immediately and even drew her legs
slightly apart as she bent at the waist. I stooped behind her and
easily nudged back up and into her warm wet hole. We quickly
adjusted the height and I was able to carefully slide deeper than
before. The water was playing onto my chest and stomach and as I
was warmed up by the water I fucked the sweet young girl steadily
and methodically. She started to grunt and groan in unison to my
inward thrusts and I took this as a sign she was getting into the
fuck. I realised later she was actually grunting as I caused a
pang of discomfort by fucking too deep too quickly. But I was on
my way and as the pleasure overtook me, I fucked her harder until
she was groaning almost non stop and before long I to was
groaning and moaning as I fucked myself to orgasm with my cock
lodged deep in her tight canal. I came hard, going rigid and them
slamming as each spurt came. She was now struggling against me,
trying to get away from the cock that invaded her too deeply and
she regulated me somewhat by attempting to stand upright and have
her butt ensure I could not get as deep. I tried to hold her bent
for a brief moment but I was already well into completing my
ejaculation. Eventually I calmed down and she stood up tall. The
net effect was only and inch or two remained lodged in her,
pulling back against her perineum. She gasped a little at this
stretching back and up, caused by our height mismatch and
slipping a hand between us, flipped me out of her sweet cunt. As
if to apologize for the show of dissent, she turned and wrapped
her arms around me as the water cascaded over us both. I was
spent and wobbly at the knees as she clung to me. I embraced her
and looked down at her. She gazed up at me smiling and I bent and
we kissed. We kissed for a few minutes as my cock continued to
want to stay hard. I instinctively knew time had slipped by and
any temptation to rekindle the sex was offset by the nagging
knowledge I had to get on, and get ready for work.

I stood back from her and we let each other go. I stepped from
the shower and I could see she was soon working her hair into a
foamy lather with the shampoo. I toweled myself dry and at one
point I glanced at the shower curtain. I could vaguely make out
she was washing vigorously between her legs. Trying to clean the
semen from within. I reminded myself of the vasectomy I had had
shortly after our youngest, Brad, was born. It occurred to me she
hadn�t seemed at all perturbed at me entering her without a
condom. Was she on some sort of birth control pill? Probably a
three month injection or such like. Pills were a daily chore to
remember to take it and a working girl needed more protection
against not being able to take it the same time each day when
needed. I thought of the other reason for a condom and the
thought of catching something suddenly brought a more sobering
feeling over me. Shit what if she was carrying something.  I may
well have just fucked her in the shower but that counted for
nothing where microbes and nasties were concerned. But she did
have those condoms so perhaps safe sex was something she had
practiced since becoming a prostitute.

I went out into the bedroom and dressed for work and pondered the
STD angle. While I was thinking about catching VD, or worse,
giving it to Jenifer, she appeared with a bath towel wrapped in
her hair. Stark naked and dripping. The absurdity of her using
the towel for her hair rather than her body and modesty made me
chuckle and I shook my head and went to the laundry to get her
another towel. I threw it on the bed and she got my drift and
after a brief attempt at drying herself, she wound the towel
across the top of her beautiful pert breast and tucked it in like
a Hawaiian muumuu. I remembered her clothes and went to the dryer
and retrieved them. Returning to the bedside I threw the red
thong and the bra onto the bed. I went back to the laundry and
pulled down the wall mounted ironing board, retrieving the iron
from the wall recess and turned it on, perched on the now
horizontal ironing board.

It was now eight o�clock and I was running about twenty minutes
behind my usual morning routine. Fortunately that included a
short spell reading the web news on my laptop so I could make up
the time and not be late. I put a couple of slices of bread in
the toaster and set it toasting and switched the electric kettle
on. Instant coffee this morning I�m afraid. I walked across to
the window and opened the drapes. It was still drizzling. I had a
decision to make. Could I trust her to stay here in the dry and
warm, or did I mistrust her and therefore have to turn her out? I
still hadn�t figured out what to do with her as a complete
solution to the predicament she found herself in. I went back to
the laundry, noting she was sitting on the bed toweling her hair.
She hadn�t moved to put the thong and bra on. I hastily ironed
her jeans and her sweat shirt as best I could, given that time
was rolling by. I took them back into the room and dropped them
on the bed. The toast had popped so I began to spread the pieces
with butter and raspberry jam. I made two plates of Cheerios and
placed one on her side of the table. She needed no further
encouragement and she sat at the small square table and munched
the cereal. I joined her with my coffee and slid a piece of toast
in front of her and then poured her the last of the orange juice
I had in the fridge.

We ate this simple breakfast in silence and as I finished first,
I started to clean up the bench. She finished quickly, seeing I
was trying to tidy up and I guess she felt she was holding me up.
As I loaded the dishwasher with the few plates and utensils she
returned to toweling her hair dry. She would be at it for hours.
I had a small hairdryer but even that would take forever like it
did last night. I couldn�t wait for her to dry her hair properly
before I had to leave for work. I took the decision that I would
have to allow her to stay here; at least until mid morning when
her hair was dry and she could confidently go out into the wet
morning.

�Isabel,� I called to her.

She stopped toweling and looked at me expectantly.

�I must go to work now,� I continued.

A look of panic came over her face. She looked lovely but
helplessly lost at what this meant. I approached her and her look
of worry increased.

�Isabel you can stay here this morning,� I announced.

Her face showed relief and she nodded her gratitude.

�Si senor. Thank you,� she said simply.

�But you must not let anybody in,� I said firmly.

�No senor. Of course I would not,� she answered effusively.

�I will come home at noon and we can figure out what you can do
for to get you sorted out to go home, eventually,� I continued.

�Thank you senor,� she whispered gratefully.

�If you decide to go out, you cannot get back in, so think before
you decide you must leave,� I warned.

She pondered y words and then realizing the implications she
shook her head firmly.

�No senor. I wait her for you to return,� she said in a serious
tone to reinforce she was emphatic in her decision.

�Alright but be aware, if you leave you leave for good,� I
reminded her.

She nodded meekly at the dire consequences that she would once
again be on her own in the cold wet day.

�Oh. By the way, I am Alan. You don�t have to call me senor,� I
said lightly, pointing my thumb at myself.

�Alan,� she repeated. �Alan and Isabel.�

I nodded and we grinned at each other.

I left for work, rushing to catch the eight fifty bus. I would be
a few minutes late into work. We had no hard and fast rule and
most managers at my level enjoyed glide time latitude. But I had
a policy of keeping a regular routine and I didn�t like allowing
myself to be too casual. I had a quiet schedule as I always tried
to keep Friday�s clear of appointments. I had one or two small
tasks to tidy up and then preparation for a busy start to the
following week. I could afford the time to go home for lunch. Or
better still go for a late lunch and early finish to the week.
Late morning I found myself reading a medical site on the web,
with particular emphasis on STD and AIDS. I didn�t cheer myself
up or even reassure myself I wasn�t already infected. But I was
pragmatic about the situation and decided I would take a visit to
my doctor as soon as I could get an appointment. In spite of
these sobering considerations, I couldn�t help but obsess about
this girl. Despite all of my moral principles, I was acutely
aware that I had a vivacious nubile young teen whos recent
history made me excited. She had serviced men as a teenage
hooker; albeit reluctantly. And she was sitting in my apartment
waiting for me to come home. I couldn�t help but sit and
visualize her breasts, the swell of her pubis as it morphed into
her sex. Visualized from the front and the back. I am turned on
by looking at a woman bending forward; her six lips hanging
between her thighs. I recalled Isabel leaning forward in the
shower that morning, as I guided my cock into her from the rear.
At some point I got up and went to the men�s room and frantically
masturbated to the recollection of the sex in the shower with
Isabel.

As I washed my hands, following jacking off, I made a mental note
to buy condoms to augment the two I found in the washing machine,
and personal lubricant. I might be alarming myself this girl was
not clean, but I hadn�t been spooked enough to stop considering
the prospect of further sex with her and the lube seemed
mandatory given the difficulties in the shower. Then there was
the small matter of her age. I hadn�t thought about that at all
since the sex in the shower. She was there and available and I
had already sunk low enough in my moral perspective to long for
fucking her again, before getting her back to where she should
be. Some way or other, at some unspecified point in the future. I
was hooked on this girl�s beautiful body and wide eyed innocence.
Innocent despite the recent past she had suffered. She might
never be the same but deep down and I knew she was totally
miscast as the hooker even if her looks and body leant to her
being sought after by rude men. Her upbringing would have been
strict Catholic with hellfire and brimstone warnings of any moral
slipups. It was down to the evils of men that led her astray. I
was one of them.

I went home at two o�clock. My boss chatted with me briefly and I
said I had some errands to undertake with respect to my house
sale and graciously told me to take all the time I needed to get
me and my family sorted out and reunited as soon as possible. He
effectively gave me dispensation to take the rest of the day off.
I got off the bus two blocks back from my apartment and called
into the small supermarket off Main Street. I wandered along the
aisle that stocked toiletries and personal hygiene products for
women. I found a small collection of condoms and selected a box
of ten Trojans. Adjacent to the condoms was a selection of KY
personal products so I took a medium bottle of warming solution.
From there I patrolled the food section and gathered a few fresh
vegetables, basic dry goods, and finished off my shopping with
two pork chops and some chicken drum sticks for a lunch. The
checkout girl gave me an odd look when she saw the KY and condoms
mixed in with the foodstuffs. Hell what did I care what some
teenaged cashier thought about a middle aged man buying these
things. I�m and adult so she can wonder all she likes.

I walked home briskly as it was still drizzling. As I arrived at
the apartment door, I paused and took a deep breath. What was
going to greet me inside? Was she there or had she fled? If she
was there was she alone? As I turned the key and slowly opened
the door, the sound of the TV playing quietly greeted me. I
pushed into the room with my bags of groceries and quickly looked
around for Isabel. The TV was going and I noted the bed was made
but showed evidence someone had been lying on it. I closed the
door and moved into the kitchen area dropping my bags on the
floor in preparation to unpack the contents and put them in the
appropriate places. I left my laptop bag at the end of the bench
and walked towards the laundry area to hang my coat to dry. As I
came into the laundry area I noted the bathroom door was nearly
closed. As I began to take my coat off the door opened and Isabel
appeared and stepped back in surprise at seeing me in the room.
She stifled a cry of alarm and then beamed and came to me and
hugged me. She pressed against me and I laughed as I was yet to
hang my coat. She realized and backed off but as soon as I had
finished, she came at me and clung to me again. Her hair was dry
now and shining clean. She smelled kind of soapy clean. Any
further thoughts about her age, my marital fidelity and my morals
in general, dissolved as I bent and kissed her, holding her
tenderly.

I couldn�t help it but the closeness of the young girl caused my
cock to harden and soon it became uncomfortable in my pants; but
it was trapped by the pressure of Isabel�s young body boring in
against me. As we stood in our embrace and kissed I felt for one
of her hands pushed it deliberately down between us towards my
crotch. As my movement was slow but firm, she had realised my
intent by the time I pushed her hand over my erect cock, through
my slacks. She worked the thick lump for a few minutes and then
standing back slightly, she  got both hands to my zipper and she
opened my pants and hauled my hard cock out through the gap of my
shorts and had began working the shaft. I grabbed her shoulders
gently and peered down between us and watched her hand working my
erection. It occurred to me that she had become more than
familiar with a cock since being tricked into being a hooker. 
She looked up and grinned realizing I was really enjoying what
her hand was doing. I smiled at her and she looked back to her
work. The head of my cock was shiny with the precum that had
oozed and been smeared by the foreskin flipping over and back on
the head. Looking at it at the junction of thumb and index finger
of her hand caused me a sharp spasm of excitement and I dropped a
hand between us and cupped her sex through her jeans. She looked
up at me as soon as she felt me grab her crotch; this time with a
more serious, almost questioning look of anticipation.

I had the sudden urge to penetrate her as deep as I could
possibly go. It was lust. Nothing more, nothing less. I guided
her out into the main living area and back towards the bed. I was
effectively pushing her and she struggled to keep up with my
shoving her, and clung to my cock with one hand. As we arrived at
the bed, she put her free hand out to steady herself as I pushed
her onto  her back, with her feet hanging over the side of the
bed, soles flat on the floor. I quickly unbuckled the large
leather belt on her low riders and roughly opened her flies and
pulled the denims from her hips and butt. The shock of tiny red
thong came into view and my lust increase as I saw the swell of
her sex against the small front triangle of material. I could
make out the dark swirl of her pubic hair and the faint dark line
of her sex lips. I was now so turned on I didn�t bother ripping
her pants right off but simply pushed her legs apart as far as
her jeans would allow, and taking my stiff cock in hand, I pushed
my cock at her sex while pulling the red thong to one side of her
groin. I entered her roughly and she groaned and threw back her
head and gasped in discomfort. Her hands gripped the duvet
tightly as the pain of me pushing into her dry hole surged
through. She held herself rigid for a couple of minutes while I
fucked shallow to gain better entry. Eventually her cunt yielded
and within a few minutes, I had sheathed in her and the core of
my cock was surging back and forth as her dry tunnel clamped my
foreskin. This was almost like forced rape; as opposed to willing
but stautory rape. I rutted for no more than four or five minutes
and then erupted in her and groaned as I came.

I came down from the orgasm and panting heavily; I pulled back
and stood up. She was still lying with her hands gripping the bed
and I could see the lines of her tears on her face, from crying
as I ravaged her. The thong was still caught between the crease
of her inner thigh and her sex and her sex lips gaped slightly
from the rough intrusion now finished. My cock was hanging semi
erect from my flies and my shirt was hanging out. I tucked my
cock back in my pants and tidied my trousers and shirt up,
refastening my belt. I felt like a shit so I reached forward and
took one of her hands and pulled her to her feet. She hung her
head, not wanting to look at me. I pulled her underwear straight,
covering her sex. I took her head and forcibly turned her to me.
She was still weeping and sobbing softly. She looked betrayed and
hurt. She hit me feebly on my upper arm as I held her.

�You hurt me,� she sobbed. �You just like all men. I thought you
were different,� she whispered sadly.

�Oh honey I am so sorry. I am so, so, so, very sorry,� I cooed
and pulled her to me.

I hugged her and at first she went limp and made no attempt to
reciprocate the embrace. I held her back from me and repeated my
apology. I meant it. I was no different to the men who had used
her as a hooker. I was probably worse as it was clear she had
built up some degree of trust and respect for taking her in. Now
I had behaved like all the other men. I could stand here all
afternoon and offer apologies but knew it would seem hollow. I
decided to drop the attempt at redemption by words and instead I
let her go and turned and went to the kitchen. I took the
perishable groceries from the bags and placed them in the
refrigerator. I took a large plate and tipped the drumsticks onto
it and placed it on the table. Pouring two glasses of orange
juice, I carried those and a small pack of napkins to the table.
Placing the juice before the chairs I looked up at her and
beckoned her to the vacant chair nearest her. She had been
standing watching me as he tidied her jeans and fastened the belt
again. She brushed each damp eye in turn with her fingertips and
sniffed before walking to the table and sat down. I offered her
the chicken and she took a drum stick and started to eat. I
realised we needed small side plates for the bones so I went to
the cupboard and returned with three. One plate for the bones and
one each to place the food we were eating on; to allow us to
handle the glass of juice or wipe our hands without having to
place the half eaten food on the table. We ate in silence. She
initially did not look at me but when I offered her a third
drumstick, she smile begrudgingly at my courtesy and soon her
sulky demeanor had faded. Now she munched hungrily and did not
try to avoid my eyes. I felt she had at least forgiven me enough
to bear looking at me again.

�Isabel, I will never treat you that way again,� I said solemnly.
�It is a very bad reason but with everything about you, I just
got very carried away. You are very beautiful and I could not
help myself earlier. I am sorry. I won�t touch you that way
again,� I said firmly.

I mentally choked on the last sentence. I very much wanted to
fuck her again and again. But by my own standards, the events of
earlier were rather selfish and I treated her as a thing not a
person.

�It hurt,� she said simply. �The men always hurt me like that.
Some wanted to hurt me,� she added sadly. �But I thought you
cared for me. Like last night, and this morning. That was good.
Nice. I liked. I thought you liked me. I wanted you to like me.�
She spoke clearly and slowly; thinking the words before she
spoke.

All the time she held my gaze, never averting her eyes.

�Isabel I like you very much. I like what we did last night and
this morning very much,� I said sincerely. �I want us to be good
to each other.�

Of course I did. I had to confess I was smitten by her and as she
was under my roof and my hospitality, but my baser instincts
wanted to bed her as I felt I needed. And she had endorsed our
earlier sex; before the rough fuck on the bed fifteen minutes
earlier. She followed my words closely and then nodded her
understanding after I finished speaking.

�Are we good?� I asked expectantly.

She was holding a half eaten drum stick in one hand; her other
hand out of sight below the table and she was leaning slightly
towards me.

�We good,� she beamed. �We good.� and she looked around as if she
had lost something.

�Alan,� I said laughing. �My name is Alan.�

She blushed and repeated my name, as if committing it to memory.
We finished all but two of the chicken drum sticks, and before I
had a chance, she rose and began to clear the table. She busied
herself placing the dirty plates in the dishwasher and scraping
the chicken bones in the trash. I sat and watched her. She had an
innate sense of service. It seemed it was her role to do domestic
chores. As the host it was my place to sit and allow her to repay
my hospitality with her work. The entire situation was perplexing
for me. I had become aroused to the point of going out of
control. But I had the sense of pragmatism to know what she had
been through and I needed a better idea of how to get her sorted
out to get her home. I also knew I did not want to leave a trail
back to me. It was imperative I cover my tracks as best I could
although I knew I was already well compromised by bringing her
here. I had to get her repatriated soon, so she would not get too
familiar with this area and perhaps be able to lead authorities
back if she ever decided to tell where she had been with me. It
may already be a forlorn hope I can somehow create some
anonymity. Failing that, convince her conclusively I was not to
be one of any of the men she may want to reveal to the police.
The best I was hoping for was that she simply be grateful if she
was returned to her family; and me as well as the other men best
forgotten.

She placed the remaining chicken in the fridge and after she was
sure she had tidied everything, she came back to the table and
sat down to finish her juice. She sat demurely and for the first
time I took in how young she was. I don�t know why but up until
that moment as she sat swinging one leg from the knee, off the
side of her chair, I had regarded her as a young woman. But the
innocence of her face, despite all she had experienced, was pure
and clear and needed to be left unspoiled. Of course she had not
been left unspoiled. She had been duped into to being a
prostitute. The classic victim of fear and conquer by
unscrupulous men.

�Do you need to clean up?� I asked.

She looked a little perplexed. She had just cleaned up. I
realised her confusion.

�No. I mean you. Your body. You have, well, you know, my seed in
you. Your underwear is so tiny you must be leaking into your
jeans,� I said somewhat embarrassed I was talking to her this
way.

She acknowledged understanding with �aaahh� as the meaning became
clear. She grinned and grimaced.

�I think it too late,� she said, and pulled a face.

�We need to get you more under wear. Better underwear,� I said
directly. �The thong is very sexy on you but very impractical,� I
added.

�I had to wear these things. I was told men like young girls. But
I knew that to,� she stated. �I like pretty things but I have no
others,� she added.

You need to clean up at least,� I said. �Me as well. Then we will
go out and get you some clothes to change into,� I offered. �Come
on. Let�s wash.�

She drained her juice, jumped up and placed her glass in the
dishwasher and followed me to the bathroom. I ran warm water in
the basin and made the water a little soapy. I soaked a wash
cloth and wrung the excess water out. I showed no embarrassment
and in fact quite deliberately exposed my groin and made to wash
my cock and balls and wiped my pubic area. She stood transfixed
watching me, and as I neared completion, she quickly opened her
jeans and pulled them down her thighs. I rinsed the cloth and
wrung it again and handed it to her. I watched as she gently
wiped her cunt and inner thighs. She looked at the wet pad of
cloth and handed it to me to rinse again. I glanced at her naked
sex and noted the inner part of her lips were quite red with the
force she had rubbed herself.  I handed the cloth back and she
dabbed gently this time. The thong was stretched by the parting
of her legs and she grabbed the scrap of material and sponged it
firmly. �Forlorn hope of cleaning it� I thought. I was mesmerized
by her attention to her ablutions. At this point privacy had
vanished and this is what I would describe as intimacy between
man and woman. Or man and girl as it were. I had a few questions
unanswered.

�Isabel was it possible you might get pregnant through having sex
with the men?� I asked casually.
She was dabbing at the inner side of her jeans. She looked up
surprised and then thoughtfully considered my question.

�With Juan, there was Marta his girlfriend. Marta took me to a
nurse who gave me a needle. It would stop me making a baby for
three months, she says,� she explained. �And Juan says all men
must use a rubber. He says this will stop me catching bad things
from men who go with many women. Marta say rubber will also
ensure I no get pregnant either. But the �jection is main way to
not make baby,� she concluded.

I nodded my understanding. Ellen had used contraceptive
injections at one time but she suffered some side effects. And
then I had a vasectomy. I was pleased to hear she was only to go
with men who wore condoms.

�Did you ever go with a man without a rubber?� I asked.

She shook her head.

�Always I had rubber,� she answered firmly.

I heaved a silent sigh of relief.

�Isabel I have had a vasectomy,� said quickly. �Do you know what
that means? I have been surgically doctored so I can�t make a
woman pregnant. So my wife does not have to take birth control
ever again,� I added.

�Aah. So you can no make me baby,� she exclaimed. She thought a
minute. �But you can have no more baby?� she inquired as an after
thought. I chuckled at her comments.

�It�s OK. My wife and I have all the children we need,� I assured
her.

�How many?� she asked.

�Three. A girl and two boys,� I confirmed.

I wanted to get the topic back to her. It did not sit comfortably
with me, talking about my family. What a hypocrite I was. I was
eager to hear all about her, but unwilling to tell her about me.

�Where did you meet with men?� I said quickly, to get back to her
situation.

�This hotel. I had a room for day for me, and there were a number
of rooms for night time when the men came,� she answered.

�Who brought the men?� I asked.

�Marta. Marta always showed me to a room and the man was always
in there,� she stated.

�What was Marta like?� I asked.

�She was nice. She was quite pretty. Old but pretty and mostly
she look after me,� she said nodding at her own words.

�How old?� I queried. �Old as me or older or younger,� I added.

She beamed.

�I not know how old you are,� she smiled and added �Alan.�

�Marta say once she is forty something, and laugh at her words,�
she added with a giggle. �But she quite many older than Juan, her
boyfriend,� she assured me.

Isabel had finished her intimate ablutions and had now restored
the underwear and jeans snuggly around her hips. She handed me
the cloth and instead of rinsing one last time I stepped passed
her and transferred the damp soiled cloth to the washing machine.
I reached for her hand and led her out to the living room. I let
her hand go and walked to the window. The rain had stopped and
the sun was trying to break through. I turned and walked back
towards her.

�Come on Isabel. We will go shopping and buy you some more
appropriate clothes<� I announce almost triumphantly.

She beamed at me. I could tell this was probably one of the few
nice things that had happened to her for some weeks. I gathered
up my keys from the table and made for the door waiting for her
to catch up on me. I ushered her out first and pulled the door
behind her. It was past five o�clock on Friday night. The stores
would be open for a few hours yet.

There was nothing fancy about my intention in buying her clothes.
Cheap and functional was all I would buy. I had to somehow bury
this expense so Jennifer would never know I had been buying
clothes for a teenage girl. That would bring about far too many
questions to deal with without exposing my shame. I took her to
Target. We walked the shelves with a cart and quickly accrued 5
pairs of assorted panties, two tee shirts, one sweat shirt, a
pair of basic denim jeans and two plain colored shirts.  I threw
in a bundle of white sox and we selected a cheap but attractive
pair of sued ankle boots as best shoes and a cheap pair of Reebok
cross trainers. The ones she had on were grubby. They could go in
the trash. I asked her to check her bra size when she tried the
jeans and blouses and I stood back and let her select two plain
white bras that matched the size of the rather exotic red one she
was wearing. These were basic and full cup. It was at that point
I became self conscious that while our relative ages might say
father and daughter, she was clearly Hispanic and I was
Caucasian. It didn�t look right in my own view. I felt extremely
self conscious as we stood in line at the checkout, and after
paying about $175 I ushered her to the car. As she belted up I
glanced and my heart leapt. She was just like my daughter at the
same stage of a shopping trip. All bubbly and excited to get home
and systematically try on the new clothes. I smiled and we drove
back to the apartment, arriving home just after seven.

She did just as my daughter Ellie did and tried on everything.
Even the five identical pairs of panties. Just to check the
colors on her figure. She stripped without any bashfulness and
started by changing into one of her new bras and a plain pair of
white panties. The panties were a little fuller at the side leg
than I liked but she still looked very sexy as she fumbled with
one of the shirts. She put the shirt on and then tried the jeans.
They didn�t look too bad at all and they were a nice snug fit.
Even though they weren�t the fashion statement her low riders
were, they still made her look very sexy. Next she put on the sox
and suede ankle boots and stood and modeled for me. She looked
definitely very sexy and I smugly congratulated myself. I also
noted that this lot was coming off later and I was going to have
her properly in the bed. No haste, no rush and no unpleasant
experience for her if I could help it. She removed the boots and
tried the Reeboks. I handed her the sweat shirt and she pulled it
on over a Tee shirt. She looked like any normal teenage student
might look like, going out for a day at the mall. I took the
thong and jeans and threw them into the washing machine. Despite
her attention to cleaning the cum that seeped from her after my
rough fucking, I would feel better if they were sanitized by
washing. My own underwear needed changing too as I had poked my
slippery cock back in my pants before I washed later. But I could
wait until bedtime and I would shower anyway. She could shower
before bed as well, for that matter. Then I would fuck her again.

When she finished her fashion show, she folded the clothes neatly
and placed them in a pile on the end of the bed, with the sox
tucked one into its pair and set beside the pile. I noted we
needed a back pack to put her clothes in. I would get her a
couple of small hand towels and a simple zip case for toothbrush,
toothpaste and deodorants and such like. Eventually she would
need to take the long bus journey home. So a bag and some
toiletries for simple ablutions on the trip would be a good
thing. She gathered up the price tags and wrapping and took it to
the trash bin in the kitchen. I sat on the bed and watched her,
savoring her enjoyment of these gifts. She suddenly disappeared
behind the bench as she stooped to pick up something off the
kitchen floor. She reappeared and I heard the rustle of a plastic
bag she must have picked up from the floor and I watched her peer
into it and then she stopped and slowly turned and looked at me
thoughtfully. I looked at her puzzled at what she was looking at
and she turned and walked towards me. She came up to me and I
realized she had discovered the condoms. I must have looked a
little sheepish and she giggled.

�You no need these,� she said with a smile. �You can�t make baby
no more you said.�

I grinned at her and she delved back into the bag and came out
with the KY. She inspected it with her brow furrowed in
puzzlement. I laughed and stepped forward and took it from her
hands. I flipped the cap and squeezed a small amount into the
palm of my hand. I flipped the cap closed and the pinched a
little of the viscous liquid between thumb and forefinger. I slid
the pads of the digits to show her the slickness that ensued.
Slowly her puzzled expression changed to one of almost awe as I
rubbed my thumb and finger tip together. Then she grinned at me
and reaching forward, she touched the small puddle in my palm
with a finger and felt the slick slippery liquid. I studied her
face as she tested the liquid and I noted she was almost
fascinated. She looked back at me and laughed nervously. To my
surprise she bowed her legs a little and motioned her hand close
to her crotch and grinning she nodded at me. I chuckled and
pretended to grip my cock and stroked with my hand wrapped around
my imaginary cock in front of me. We gazed at each other and I
realized she was thinking what I was thinking. I unzipped my
jeans and fished my soft cock out, and wrapped the hand with the
KY on around it. She looked at my hand then quickly looked me in
the eye. I nodded to her. She understood and she started to
undress methodically.

We stripped quickly without speaking. I glanced at my watch as I
eased up onto the bed beside her. She was lying naked with her
legs parted and her hands by her side. I knelt beside her hip and
flipped the KY cap and squeezed a generous amount onto my index
and middle fingers. I leaned forward and slowly stroked the
liquid up and down her sweet slit. I slowly lubricated her,
returning to the bottle twice as I worked my fingers covered with
the KY into her cunt; pushing and twisting until she was soaked
with it. She lay looking at me. Passive and willing to my touch.
I rubbed under the top junction of the lips and felt the
clitoris. I concentrated here for a few minutes but to my
disappointment, I felt no response from her. After about ten
minutes of fingering her I decided this was another one for me. I
sat up and started to smear the remnants of the lube on my
fingers, up and down my erect cock. She lay watching. Her face
impassive as she studied my hand movements. Finally I felt all
the excess lube was smeared on my cock and I slid across her leg
and made to kneel between her legs. Without prompting she lifted
her knees and slid her heels back in towards her butt. She had
her legs parted wide enough so I began to flatten out, leaning
over her and guiding my cock towards her sweet cunt.

For a third time in less than twenty four hours, I slid my cock
into her tight warm cunt. This was far easier than the dry,
almost-rape fuck that took place earlier. I slid as deep as I
could and she lifted her hips and pushed her head back and I
realized she was holding her breath. I sensed I was in too deep
and this was her first negative reaction. I eased back until she
exhaled loudly and adjusted my position along her body to ensure
I would not plow too deep again. I fucked her. Slow at first. I
rested my torso on my hands and slipped my hips back and forth
allowing the full length of my cock to bury almost balls deep,
and then out until the head was nearly clear of her sex lips. She
brought her hands to my shoulders and let me fuck her as I
pleased. I was disappointed she was not responsive sexually but
looking at her face, I was pleased to see an enigmatic smile. She
studied my face as I fucked her. I bet she had done this numerous
times. I wondered if she lay back with her eyes held tightly shut
or if she studied the faces of her John�s as she studied me. I
became lost in my pleasure and soon I was gasping and breathing
hard as I screwed her. I wanted to draw the fuck out a little
longer so resting my weigh on my elbows I was able to massage her
lovely breast; flicking and pinching at the nipples. At first she
gasped and wriggled her body as if to break the pinching hold I
had on her nipples. But after a few minutes of breast and nipple
play, as I slowly moved around in her tight warmth, I realized
she was getting turned on by my breast work. Her eyes were half
closed and she was making small movements of her mouth, like a
goldfish gulping.

I concentrated hard on the breasts and I quickly noted a small
sigh of discontent and she opened her eyes in question. I was
trying to read what she wanted so I went back to pinching the
nipples again. She groaned a murmur of appreciation. I realized
she liked a little pain in her dark brown nubbins. I squeezed
each nipple between my thumbnail and finger tip and she groaned.
I had found a chink in her passivity to my foreplay. I worked the
nipples hard and started to pick up the pace of fucking her, as I
sensed I had lost the fight warding off ejaculation. I started to
fuck more deliberately, holding myself from burying too deep and
this way I got a nice rhythm to build to my orgasm; all the while
squeeze her nipples really hard.

She moaned loudly and screwed her eyes tight shut and her mouth
gasping at the erotic pain she was clearly experiencing. Her
expression took me over the edge and I started to cum, working my
hips obscenely as I spurted into her. She had her arms locked
tight around my neck with the inside of her knees squeezing my
body. I came nosily and she gasped and cried out as I gave her
nipples one last hard twist. I finished cumming and held my body
just off her. Truly I wanted to collapse on her but I was much
bigger than she was so I slowly eased myself away from her upper
body to avoid placing my weight on her. This caused me to twist
sideways while embedded deep in her tight cunt and she quickly
moved one leg to loosen her grip to ease the sideways stretch of
her tightness. I slid quickly from her wet warmth and I rolled
sideways and lay on my side, facing her. She let my neck go and I
saw her hands go to her nipples and feel them. She rubbed them
tenderly and at first I thought I had left her short of orgasm
due to the pain I was inflicting on her nipples; and that she was
about to complete the task. But I realized the rubbing was
reflex. Like rubbing a shin after banging it sharply. I looked at
her and a broad smile broke over her face. I leaned towards her
and kissed her passionately. I was exhausted and I rolled onto my
back and dragged her small frame into the crook of my arm. I
dozed off.

I must have dozed about half an hour and when I woke she was
snuggled in against my side. I sat up and she woke and sat up
with me. I tousled her hair and grinned.

�Are you OK?� I asked.

�Si, yes,� she said softly. �I Ok. That much better,� she
confirmed.

I took her face in my hands and kissed her passionately.

�I want to do that again and again,� I grinned at her, my face
close to hers.

�Si. I know. I like to,� she agreed with me.

I looked at my watch. It was six twenty.

�Dinner time,� I said looking at her. �Are you hungry Isabel?�

�Si. I hungry,� she answered.

I got off the bed and went into the bathroom and conducted a
second quick sponge bath while standing at the hand basin. I went
back to the bed and suggested she clean up. She could shower if
she wanted. She nodded and slid off the bed. I dressed into my
pants and dragged a tee shirt from my chest of drawers and padded
barefoot into the kitchen to start dinner. I stopped and listened
hard and identified a new sound as the shower being turned on. I
started cooking dinner and about twenty minutes later she came
out with a towel wrapped around her. She had knotted her long
hair up to avoid getting it wet. She looked totally fuckable and
I chastised myself for always seeing her as a sex object. I
glanced across occasionally and noted she put on the pair of new
panties she had stripped for sex, and pulled a shirt on without
her bra. I smiled. She was not dressing fully and I guessed it
was because she was anticipating more sex after dinner. I felt
relaxed and contented for the first time since meeting her.
Tomorrow I had to call Jen to get an update on the expected house
offer, and news about her and the kids. It would be Saturday. I
also had to discuss with Isabel what we do to get her home. I
couldn�t delay her indefinitely as much as I wanted a sex doll
with me.

We ate a late dinner and I continued to draw out what actually
went on at the brothel she was held in. She was not allowed out
without Marta but they did go out often. The only time that she
saw another girl was when she was led into a room for what turned
out to be a threesome. She and an older red headed girl who
barely acknowledged her apart from what Isabel realized was fake
girl on girl action for the John�s benefit. I asked what she
thought of this and she uttered something in Spanish which I
guessed was a slur on lesbians or homosexuality in general. Most
of the men were middle aged although there was one much younger
guy who kept saying he wanted to come back and get her. She
believed him but after sex with her three times � and he came
quickly, crying each time � he never returned. I asked how she
went there in the first place and she reiterated how her brother
had given her the bus fare and $200 dollars for her journey. Juan
was waiting for her.

�But he was your cousin wasn�t he?� I asked a little incredulous
he could trap his close relation.

�He was not my real cousin but his family and my family were
close for many years. So he was called my cousin here in
America,� she explained. �I was pleased to see him and thought he
was arranging work for me.�

At first she thought it was work as a domestic at the hotel. She
held this belief for two days as they went through a ruse of
showing her �duties�. Then one day she heard Marta and Juan
arguing and they broke off suddenly when she came into the
kitchen with them. That night she was led to a room by Marta. She
recalls Marta was sad and appeared fearful. The room was empty
and she sat on the bed and wondered what was happening. Later
Marta brought an old man and introduced him as �John�. She left
John with Isabel. In short, the guy raped her. She fought as best
she could and he slapped her hard and often so that she lost the
will to resist. She was stripped and she said he had roughly
restrained her hands with her own bra. She stopped and I saw she
had to compose herself against the rising emotion as she relived
her rape. I went to her and cuddled her until she said she was
OK. She continued, telling how this man raped her twice more. She
eventually fainted and when she came around, Marta was with her
holding her naked body. Marta cared for her and bathed her. When
she helped Isabel get into bed, Marta told her this was to be her
role from now on. �John� was a friend of Juan�s. I deduced from
what Isabel pieced together, that �John� was in fact meant to
break her in, which he did. He would have paid the premium for
the virginity.

We sat silent for a few minutes. I spoke first.

�Isabel we have to get you home to your family,� I said firmly.

She nodded her agreement as she ate her food.

�When?� she asked after a short silence.

�I think the sooner the better,� I reasoned. �Perhaps Sunday, or
maybe Monday when there are more frequent busses,� I concluded.
�Tomorrow is too soon as I think the buses from Denver to
California would leave early,� I surmised. �We need to plan to
get you there on time.�

She nodded and pushed at her food with her fork. I noted she was
not jumping for joy as I thought she would.

�Is there something wrong with that?� I asked curiously, staring
at her.

At first she didn�t look at me but then she lifted her head to
meet my gaze.

�Will I see you again Alan?� she asked quietly.

I considered this question carefully. I knew that we had bonded.
I knew that I wasn�t much better than the men that Juan and Marta
brought to use her young body, yet she saw me as completely
different and much more acceptable to her. I had abused her; once
it was quite rough abuse. Yet I sensed she was more than
comfortable about the sex. I believe she felt safe for the first
time in some weeks. I also knew that this feeling of safety had
made her appreciate my help. Yet she approved of what we did. I
believe she even welcomed it; especially the sex earlier this
evening. That was her �thank you� for the clothes I had bought
for her.

�I don�t think so Isabel,� I said gently. �My family will join me
here soon and we will find a house to live in. You will go back
to your family and they will take care of you so you can grow up
to make your own choices,� I said somewhat sagely.

She nodded her understanding but she dropped her head. I realised
she was weeping and called her to me. She rose from the table and
came around and I lifted her in to my lap and hugged her,
soothing her by stroking her hair and shushing her gently.
Eventually she lifted her head and hugged me back. I kissed her
lightly.

�We have maybe two days to be together,� I said fondly. �We can
enjoy our time.�

She grinned wanly and hugged me, and went back to her chair and
finished her food. After we had cleared the table I made a coffee
and she had a soda. We propped some pillows up against the wall
at the head of the bed and sat and watched TV. We didn�t speak
much and at one point she took my hand and held it while we
watched some banal sitcom. At some point I dozed and when I woke,
she was watching a Spanish sitcom. I looked at my watch and it
was gone ten forty-five. I sat up and scratched and shuffled off
to the toilet. I took a long, much needed piss. I brushed my
teeth at the hand basin and wandered back to the living room. To
my surprise and delight, she was lying under the duvet and
smiling sheepishly at me. I grinned and pulled my shirt off and
then unbuckled my jeans and removing them, threw them on the easy
chair at the foot of the bed, against the far wall. I stood in my
shorts and she frowned and wiggled her hand at me.

�Off. Take them off,� she instructed.

I grinned and did as I was told dropping them at my feet. My cock
hung flaccid and I looked at her. She had a look of curiosity on
her face, just staring at it. I pulled the bedclothes back and
went to slide in beside her. I noted bare flesh and realized she
was naked. As I drew in beside her I pushed the sheet and blanket
down to the foot of the bed and lay back and looked down at her
body. The pert breasts were spread a lot flatter by gravity as
she lay nearly flat with her head on the pillow. I could see the
abundant bush of pubic hair and just make out the start of her
slit as her sex curved away under her crotch out of view. She
looked at me and grinned and reached for me.

I lay back and grinned and relaxed in pleasure at Isabel fondling
me. She leaned forward on her forearms and handled me delicately.
Turning my cock this way and that; sliding the foreskin gently
down the floppy length, and then letting it retreat to cover the
head. Surprisingly I found I was not getting hard even though
this was very enjoyable. I was fascinated by her curiosity and
intense concentration on her face. I could see her left breast
was hanging down, full and round with the peak of the nipple
protruding as the tip, as gravity now worked the other way as she
crouched forward. Her hair fell to the side and I reached taking
it, flicking it around her head to the far side so I could study
her face and see her upper body and breast. I contemplated
reaching between her buttocks which were closest to my chest; as
she had turned almost parallel to my body. She was now facing
down to my crotch, so I could start fondling her sex from the
rear. But I opted not to disturb her as I was just as fascinated
with her interest in my cock, as she was with the cock; and the
balls she sometimes lifted and cupped gently in her hand.

I knew it was not to last. Once she had tested the texture and
feel of the flaccid cock, and the loose hairy balls, she made a
series of deliberate strokes along the length of my cock.  I
realised she wanted to watch it grow. I wondered how many of her
�Johns� had ever let her do this at her pace, and how many had
simply come at her already hard and eager to penetrate. Once she
started to stroke me, any resistance to getting hard dissolved
and I watched and smiled at the look of fascination as my cock
became engorged. She took to clasping it gently as she stroked;
testing the swelling thickness with her hand wrapped around it.
She studied it as it waved perilously close to her face and she
squinted and detecting the first pearl of precum, rubbed her
finger on it and smeared it around the head. She must have
realized I was watching her closely because she suddenly turned
and looked at me and an embarrassed smile came over her face and
she blushed and turned her head away coyly. She regained her
focus and she now used her other hand to smear the precum as she
jacked me slowly. I was becoming very aroused and wanted to take
her. But I restrained the urge to jumper her, and lay in somewhat
controlled agitation as her stroking now took on the full
intensity of a full hand job. Her fist was wrapped tight and she
pulled her hand up and down rhythmically. I was beside myself and
I finally moved a muscle and raising a hand, tapped the back of
her head.

�Suck me Isabel,� I croaked. �Suck me good.�

She turned quickly at the sound of my voice and then looked back
at the cock in her hand. She looked back at me once more and
studied my face for a short moment and then, still holding my
gaze, she moved her head towards the cock and let it nudge her
cheek as she sought to zero it into her mouth. She opened her
mouth and took the head and an inch or so of the shaft inside.
Still watching me she started to suck me. I knew she would have
to adjust her position as her neck would start to feel strained
as she was essentially facing away but turning back at the neck.
I was right and after a few minutes of lovingly swirling her
tongue and slowly facing the shaft she pulled her mouth off and
turned more obliquely, almost at right angles to my body. This
way I could easily see the mouth rising and falling over the cock
and she only had to turn her eyes to look and take in the
enjoyment I was clearly getting from her ministrations. I felt
the sap begin to rise and started to move my hips in time to her
jacking. Her eyes flicked back at me as she realised I was close.
This brought about an increase in pressure from the hand and a
more rapid motion of her tongue. She had learned a few tricks
during her time as a teen whore. I started to cum and at first
she started to pull away but I gasped and begged her to stay with
it. Her eyes darted back to meet my imploring eyes and she
stoically resumed mouthing me as deep as she dared go. I erupted
into her mouth and draped my hand over her head and coaxed her to
stay down as I pumped myself dry into her mouth. She clung to the
cock so as I couldn�t push her head too far, and make her gag. As
it was I heard her stifle a gurgle and gasp as she was now
breathing heavily through her nose; her lips clamped tight to
avoid my cum spilling.

Eventually I calmed down and she raised her mouth of and made
swallowing and tasting motions with her mouth. She exercised her
open mouth by switching her jaw which I deduced was cramping at
being held open by the thickness of the cock. She fished her
mouth and I nearly laughed as she extracted a stray pubic hair,
and after a quick inspection to see what it was, she flicked it
away. She let my softening cock go, after a few more inspections
and turning she crawled up beside me and snuggled into the crook
of my arm. I kissed her lightly and she grinned and snuggled in.
We fell asleep together this time.



SATURDAY

If I had of thought I was going to fuck this young teen at
regular intervals, my body let me down. The first I knew it was
Saturday was the phone ringing. I scrambled for it from the
nightstand and it was Julie, excited that the house had sold and
the buyer bought the final agreed contract over this morning. I
looked at my watch and was stunned it was nine thirty. I looked
nervously at Isabel and she appeared asleep with her back to me.
Julie and I talked about how she could get the contract to me and
I suggested she fax it to my work number. I would go in and get
the fax, sign my part and fax it right back so we had a deal
signed by both parties. As I spoke I kept looking across at
Isabel at intervals but she did not stir at the sound of my
conversation. Eventually Julie rang off after we traded �I love
yous�. I put the phone down and eased out of bed and went and
took a piss. When I returned Isabel had turned towards my side of
the bed and lay with her eyes open, sadly looking past the edge
of the bed as I approached.

�Hey there gorgeous,� I said lightly. �Did you sleep tight?�

She nodded somewhat sullenly and turned on her back, an arm
behind her head gazing at the ceiling.

�What�s the matter?� I asked recognizing she was sulking.

She ignored me.

�It was that call from my wife wasn�t it?� I speculated.

She ignored me again.

�Look Isabel. I am married. I have three children, the oldest of
which is barely two years younger than you. I love them and I
want to be with them again.� I paused and studied her face. �Just
as you must be with your family again,� I said softly.

She burst out crying and for the next ten minutes I cuddled her
and soothed her; talking softly about the merits of family and
how I pledged to get her back to her grandparents so she could be
safe and live her life as she needed to. Eventually she calmed
down and stopped crying. She skidded across the bed and traipsed
into the bathroom and I heard her peeing noisily. So much for a
dawn breaker I thought. That subtle plan was blown away by us
oversleeping. If I wanted to manufacture a quick morning fuck she
torpedoed that thought by climbing into the bath and turning on
the shower. I shrugged and left her to it and started to gather
breakfast goodies together on the bench. Cereal, juice, and bread
for toast. I took down peanut butter and jam from the cupboard
and softened some butter in the microwave. She came out of the
shower and dressed with her back to me. Finally she turned and
stood looking at me. She was on the verge of tears again. I
beckoned her and she ran, almost stumbled across to me standing
behind the sink unit. I hugged her and she cried some more and
then slowly calmed down again, rubbing the tears from her eyes.

�I want to be with you for ever Alan,� she sobbed as she sought
to compose herself.

�You can�t be Isabel. You know that. Your place is with your
family and mine is with my family. I wish you were older and I
was younger and I was a single man,� I beamed somewhat weakly at
my patronizing comments. �But we are who we are and we can�t
change that. You understand that don�t you?� I said.

She nodded reluctantly and finally let go and looked at the food
and condiments.

�Cereal, Juice and toast,� I announced brightly and waved at the
fare on the bench top.

She smiled weakly and took the butter, peanut butter, and jam to
the table. True to where she felt her place was as a servant, she
set the table with plates and cutlery and soon we were quietly
eating breakfast together. After we finished, she immediately
cleared the table and waved me away when I went to help clear the
bench and do the dishes.

�Shower,� she snapped at me in a bossy tone.

I grinned and backed off.

�Yes ma�am,� I said as if scolded by a stern school teacher.

I shaved first and showered. If I had thought the prospect of
morning sex was gone, I was mistaken. I was about ten minutes
into soaking under the warm refreshing water when she pulled the
shower curtain back and I stood stunned noting she was naked, and
climbing in with me. What followed was a repeat of what had
happened Friday. She started stroking me and I quickly
reciprocated by fingering her, this time including her tight
anus; slicking her with the soap. It culminated in her assuming
the position against the wall and me entering her from behind and
slowly and luxuriously fucking her until I came, standing rigid
as I spurted my morning sap into her tight canal. After I
finished, she stood and soaped my cock off and made a show of
wiping the soap up under her crotch as I stood grinning at her.

Once dressed, I checked my watch and said I had to go to my
office to check if my wife had faxed the purchase contract for
our house. We could check the bus timetables and plan her trip
home afterwards. The sadness returned briefly but once we arrived
at my car in the underground garage, she was more upbeat. I
seldom used the company supplied car; preferring the ease of the
bus system between my inner city apartment and my office. We went
directly to my office and she waited in the car while I went and
found the faxed contract my wife had sent. I signed next to her
name and waited as it faxed back to her. The machine beeped and
blinked �Fax OK� and I left the office feeling satisfied the time
was nearing when Julie and the kids would be back with me again.
Isabel was slumped in the car seat and sat up as I approached.
From my office we traveled to the bus station and checked out the
timetable. I had planned on a Monday trip but it seemed better
that we in fact put her on the one o�clock Sunday trip. This
would travel across Colorado, Nevada and Utah through the night
and she would arrive in Sacramento early Monday morning. She
could call her grandparents part way and tell them when she would
arrive. After we left the bus station we went to a small strip
mall and wandered around a baggage shop and found her a small
semi backpack-wheel pack type case. It was soft fabric but had a
plastic wheel system on one end. She was taken with it and I
could see she was quite pleased I bought it for her. Eventually
we went past a deli and bought some cold cuts and bread with
which to make a lunch when we arrived back home.

We had finished our sandwiches and she had a soda while I had a
coffee. As always, she cleared the table and bench after we had a
meal and I glanced at my watch as I lay on the bed surfing the
internet with my laptop. It was about one o�clock and I was
checking out the Greyhound route on their web site; looking at
where the comfort stops would be and deciding where she should
call her grandparents. She eased up onto the bed behind me and
looked over my shoulder, her chin resting on my side. I turned
briefly when she joined me and showed her what I thought was the
best way to make the trip without too much discomfort. I�d get
her one of those tri-pillows like they use on airplanes.
Eventually I closed the laptop and put it on the nightstand on
her side of the bed. I rolled over on my back and looked at her.
It was obvious to her I had sex on my mind and smiling at me she
lay on top of me and we started making out once more.

The sex was fantastic. We slowly undressed and I spent some time
sucking her sweet sex. She clearly enjoyed what I was doing but I
got no sense she was really aroused and her reaching an orgasm
just never seemed to eventuate. Finally after my jaw became a
little tired, I reared up the length of her body after crouching
with my mouth on her, and she reached for me and guided me to her
sex. I went in with a degree of difficulty as she was still quite
tight despite the mouth, and fingers I had eased into her. But I
got engaged and she moved her butt about on the bed in an effort
to allow me to slowly penetrate her. This done, I slowly fucked
her. She held my shoulders and once again studied my face as I
gazed down at her and fucked myself to a joyous loud orgasm;
spewing yet another load into her tight warm tunnel. After which
I withdrew and she turned and sucked me to clean off the mixture
of her internal juices and my semen. We rested. It was somewhere
near four thirty that I roused and lay studying her nestled in
the crook of my arm. I could see the tight black pubic bush and
the curvature of her pubis as it bends away between her legs
which are slightly parted. I raise my head quietly and look
around for the condoms and KY I bought on the Friday. They are
behind the lamp base on the night stand on the side of the bed. I
had this girl left with me for just over eighteen hours. There
was one more bridgehead to storm before I released her to her
family.

I roused her by lightly stroking her breasts and teasing her
nipples. She woke lazily and smiled up at me and I flattened her
on the bed and worked her nipples with my mouth; eventually
letting one had stray between her legs and feeling the greasy
slickness my cum had left inside her sex. There would be a wet
patch beneath her where the excess semen would have leaked from
her body. But this time I allowed my fingers to stray over her
perineum and slowly circled her anus with the pad of my middle
finger. She opened her eyes and turned and looked at me
questioningly. I ignored the question in her eyes and taking the
KY; I flipped the lid and squirted some of the slippery liquid
onto the tips of my middle and index fingers. This I transferred
to her anal pucker and her stare took on a more resigned look;
bordering on objection to what she clearly sensed I had in mind.
Ignoring the possibility she may well be repulsed by my intent, I
was not about to let this chance at anal sex pass me by. I had
her. Whether she liked it or not she was mine to do what I wanted
with. I would help her and return her to her family. But she had
one more price to pay.

I slicked her anus and slowly reached back and slid first my
thicker middle finger into the tight hole, eventually easing the
index finger in beside it. I was highly charged with excitement
knowing that if she was going to revolt against the prospect of
being sodomized, she was making no effort to repel me. Soon I was
satisfied I had her quite wet and slippery with several
applications of the KY. For my part I was rock hard in
anticipation. I eased my fingers out and got off the bed. Her
eyes raised in surprise at my actions. Maybe she now thought I
had decided not to bugger her. But as I reached my slippery hand
to take one of hers she gave a look of fearful resignation that I
had not abandoned this desire and she slowly stepped off the bed
and stood wondering what I was doing next. I turned her to face
the bed and lightly pressured her to bend forward and lean across
the side of the bed. I saw the look of concern on her face as she
realized I was going to take her bent over the bed; from behind
while standing on the floor. And I did.

I coated my stiff red cock with plenty of the lube and eased her
feet as wide as she could go by nudging her inner ankles in turn.
Her butt crack opened and the dark brown pucker glistened with
the lube smeared on the skin surrounding it. I stepped forward
and touched the head of my swollen cock to the slightly dilated
wrinkle and slowly but steadily, with all the patience I could
muster in the context of the high excitement I felt, I slowly
eased my cock in; a fraction of an inch at a time with each firm
push. I had my cock head immersed and the foreskin pushed back
taught on the shaft by the pressure of the sphincter when she
made her first light moaning of objection. It was almost five
minutes of patient painfully frustrating excitement before I
bottomed out as far as I dare. She was gasping and crying quietly
at the stretching of the sphincter. I slowly pulled back and
repeated the slow in-out action until her asshole seemed to relax
to the intrusion it was feeling. I sodomized her slowly at first.
Gentle out, and then in strokes. She lay flat; her head to one
side with her hair disguising her face. Her hands were gripping
the duvet tightly. The entire ass fuck took ten minutes,
culminating in my increased speed and deep penetration up against
her bowel. Swelling her colon with my girth. I came crying out in
delirium as I spewed forth inside her guts and she was sobbing
and gasping in discomfort as I well buggered her deeply, taking
my selfish male pleasure in this forbidden tunnel of this young
girl. I collapsed, sated, across her back; vainly trying not to
crush her with my weight. She complained by groaning loudly and
tried levering me up. I rallied sufficiently to rise up off her
and my cock slipped from her and I crawled up beside her on the
bed. I was vaguely aware she stood up and went into the bathroom
as I crawled onto the bed and collapsed.

It was maybe thirty minutes or more before I recovered enough to
realise she hadn�t returned from the bathroom. I was immediately
concerned and still naked; I slipped off the bed and went into
the bathroom. She was sitting on the toilet with her head bowed
and her hands clutching a piece of wadded toilet paper. She
started as I came in and looked up in fear as I stood before her.

�Isabel, what�s wrong?� I asked and stooped to put an arm around
her shoulder.

She said nothing and sobbed and bowed her head. I froze as I saw
the wad of toilet paper had bright red patches of blood on it.

�Oh God I�ve split you,� I said flatly. �Sweetie I am so sorry,�
and I bent to cuddle her.

She stiffened but did not move.

�Isabel I am really, really sorry I hurt you so. And you were so
trusting. Are you hurting?� I asked concerned.

She nodded and sniffed and let out another sob.

�OK sweetie. Let�s get you into a warm bath to soothe your tender
rear,� I said turning to the bath.

I ran a bath and swished a bar of soap in it as I went; to make
the water as sudsy as I could. When I felt it was ready, I coaxed
her up off the toilet and, as she was still naked, she stepped
straight into the bath and gingerly sat down. She had dropped the
reddened wad of toilet paper in the bowl behind her. After the
soothing warmth of the water filtered over her she stopped
sniffing and crying as soon she sat down; obviously grateful to
the relief the bath was giving her. I kneeled beside her and did
my utmost to apologize and comfort her and eventually she
appeared more relaxed. She bathed for about forty minutes. I had
left her and had dressed again when she eventually came out to
the living room. I went to her and hugged her.

�Are you OK?� I asked concerned she may still resent me having
sodomized her.

�A bit sore but OK now Alan,� she answered. �I am sorry to be
such a baby,� she added looking a little sheepish.

�Not at all Isabel. Sweetie I will never do that to you again,� I
promised; hating every syllable.

I very much wanted to do that again and Isabel most likely was
the only person I would ever likely be able to do that with
again. But I had promised�

It was now late afternoon. I made a quick call to Julie as Isabel
sat on the bed watching TV, and I stood in the kitchen area with
my back to her. Julie confirmed she got the fax OK and the
contract with the buyers was a done deal. We had given them 35
days to close. Five weeks to be in a position to buy here. After
the talk with Julie, I set about preparing dinner. I had two pork
chops and vegetables and soon had it all ready to go before
putting everything on the stove. I took a bottle of beer from the
fridge and after calling her name, tossed Isabel a soda as she
looked up and then caught the can of drink. I took a bag of chips
from the cupboard and went and joined her on the bed. She was
dressed in panties and a tee shirt. She had busied herself
packing the clothes we had bought on Friday in the bag we had
bought this morning. She was very pleased with the fact she had
possessions and something to carry them in and look like she was
a legitimate traveler.

The evening went quietly with dinner, and Isabel clearing the
table and doing the dishes as she had done before. She scolding
me when I took a towel to dry the pots and pan. The rest of the
evening was spent watching nothing in particular on TV. We
eventually turned in about eleven o�clock and fucked rather
unspectacularly; almost perfunctory sex. I was feeling guilty
about the ass fuck and how I had made her bleed near the surface
of her anal ring, and she was clearly sad this was to be the last
hurrah as it were. Daybreak saw me pull her over onto my early
morning hard-on and she rode me effortlessly until I grabbed her
waist and humped up into her as I came, gasping and moaning in
delight. This was certainly better than last night�s effort and
smiling down at me she leaned and cuddled me; still with my cock
inside her tight tunnel.

And so the big adventure for both of us came to an end. At about
noon she pulled the zippers on her bag closed and stood somewhat
sadly holding the nylon jacket over her arm as she waited for me
to put my shoes on. Soon we were arriving at the bus station and
I bought the ticket that would take her back to her grandparents
in California. She sobbed as I hugged her goodbye. I was feeling
somewhat self conscious at holding this young Mexican teen and we
drew a few puzzled looks from bystanders at the unusual sight of
a middle aged Caucasian man hugging a young Latina teen. However
no one seemed too bothered and eventually she pulled herself away
from me and boarded the bus. She had promised she would call her
grandparents from Butte, Utah, and tell them she was coming in
about seven thirty on the Monday morning. And with a weak smile
and a wave, tears streaming from her eyes, she craned back to
catch the last glimpse of me standing and waving as the bus swung
out of the station and she disappeared from my life.

***

I recall I had a big lump in my throat. I also had a huge sense
of relief and a strong sense of foreboding that maybe I had not
heard the last of her. Now Five years on and we have been happy
here in Denver. Ellie is a young woman mow. At high school; and
the boys are at middle school, and Julie is working as a
paralegal. We make a good income and we can give our kids the
best we can afford. I look at Ellie now she is dating
occasionally and I feel the latent suspicion only a father can
feel, about the motives of the boys who come to date her. She is
not the beauty Isabel was. Isabel in my minds eye was almost
always a woman. Ellie is very much the high school kid. I guess I
like it that way. After all, there are men out there like me who
would covet her just the way I coveted, and had, Isabel. I�m
never going to lose the pangs of paranoia that occasionally grip
me when I think of the fundamental wrong I did with her.
Sometimes when I sit and remember her firm young body yielding to
my lustful thrusts, I catch Julie looking at me quizzically with
a �what is it?� expression. I smile and go back and concentrate
on what I was doing. Isabel, Isabel. My sweet Mexicana senorita.
I hope you learned to have a good life. If not too presumptuous
of me, maybe you have a better life in some respects for having
met me. While on one level I was no better than the �Johns� she
prostituted herself with, at least she could remember me for the
overall kindness I showed her. I hope she at least gives me
credit for that.



The End

� 2007 Romany. Protected by copyright law. Please do not copy,
edit, amend or post this on any website without the author�s
permission.

https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/gypsey/romany/



  
Isabel