Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 None of this happened.  It is 100% a product of my warped mind.  But it's
always nice to dream...
   The Ten-Dollar Bill
   It's been almost a year since my wife died -- at 56, no less -- and I
miss her.  We were great together.  We enjoyed being together, going places
together, the same foods and music and, most of all, great sex.  I
particularly miss the sex and, most of all, her terrific blowjobs.
   I was 11 years older than Betty and I can't get it up like I used to; it
doesn't start as stiff as it used to so we enjoyed mostly oral sex.  We
loved to make the other cum with expert and imaginative ways to use our
lips and tongues (sometimes even our teeth) to drive each other to a wild,
frenzied orgasm.  Several orgasms.
   I was coming home from Christmas shopping last night and saw a neighbor
of mine, a girl about eight or nine years old, sitting on the curb outside
the doorway to an apartment house down the block.  She was crying, tears
streaming down her face.  Her coat was open revealing a well-worn dress
that was either a hand-me-down or a thrift-shop garment.  The coat looked
older than she was and her brown hair hadn't been washed in a while.
   "Are you ok?" I asked.
   "No," she said between sobs.
   "What's the matter?"
   "I lost all my money," she wailed.
   "Where?"
   "Right here."
   "I don't see where it could have gone.  Have you looked carefully?"
   "I didn't just lose it," she continued.  "Some boys stole it from me."
She looked up at me with sorrow all over her cute face.  I wasn't quite
sure what to do.
   "How much was it?"
   "Ten dollars," she said, sniffling and wiping her eyes on her coat.
   "Oh."
   "My mom gave me ten dollars to buy something for gramma and now I
can't."
   I felt sorry for the girl.  I hadn't done anything nice for anyone in a
long time and felt bad that her holiday was going to be ruined by some
thoughtless kids.  "Do you know the boys who took your money?"
   "No." She looked up at me.  Behind her tears was a cute round face that
reminded me of our daughter, now in her thirties, when she was this girl's
age.  I had always seen my daughter both as a vulnerable child and as the
child-lover that filled my erotic dreams.  It was a constant battle for me
-- wanting to protect my beautiful girl as a father and wanting to
experience her body as a lover.  I never succumbed my my fantasies but this
sweet young thing brought them all back to me.  Unmentionable thoughts once
again invaded my usually very proper middle-class brain.
   "Why don't you just tell your mom what happened?"
   "Nooooo," she wailed.  Momma will just beat me for being such a dummy."
   "I can't believe that."
   "She will, she will, mister.  You don't know my mom."
   "Mother's don't do that.  What makes you think she would?"
   "Cuz I know she will.  She bets me all the time when she has one of her
boyfriends in her bedroom."
   "Why does she beat you?  What do you do to make her angry?"
   "Sometimes she forgets to make us some dinner when she's with a
boyfriend and, when I knock on the door to tell her, she gets all mad and
comes out and hits me.  I'm not s'posed to ever open her door when she's
with a boyfriend and she has a boyfriend almost every night."
   "I see." Gawd, how this precious little darling was getting to me.  I
looked at her thin bare legs and saw my little sweetie, the girl I had
lusted over from the time she was seven and in second grade until she was
into her twenties and announcing she had found Mr.  Right.  I had always
thought of myself as her Mr.  Right.  It occured to me that I might be this
pretty little girl's Mr.  Right.
   "So, maybe we can find a way to get your ten dollars back."
   "Really?  Oh, gee, mister."
   "Tell you what.  I live in that building over there," I said, pointing
out a neighboring apartment house.  I f you'll come with me, I'll make us
some cocoa and we'll figure out how to do it.  Would that be ok?"
   "I dunno."
   "Why not?"
   "Cuz I'm not supposed to go with starngers."
   "I'm not really a stranger.  I live just over there and we've been
talking for a while.  I'm a neaighbor and neighbors are supposed to help
each other, right."
   "I guess so."
   "Ok.  Come with me." She stood; I took her by the hand and we walked the
hundred yards or so to my building.  We rode the elevator silently to the
3rd floor.  She followed me down the hallway, waited for me to unlock the
door and then timidly crossed the threshhold after me.
   "Wow, mister.  This is really nice," she said while checking out the
furniture and the mementos on the walls and shelves -- souvenirs of the
many places Betty and I had visited in our many years of marriage,
souvenirs that reminded me of her and, at this moment, of her wonderful,
talented mouth.
   "That shell is really big, she said, looking at a conch shell we had
brought back from a week-long visit to a nudist camp in Hawaii when our
daughter Penny was about seven.  Penny loved it and I enjoyed seeing our
daughter --and all the other girls -- naked.  There was an entire range of
kids, from toddlers to maybe 18, showing it all to the world (and me).  I
carried a beach towel in front of me for the first day.  Afterwards, my
erection subsided and I could enjoy the scenery without giving myself away.
My favorites were girls of about 12 or 13, with a woman's curves, budding
breasts like small cones pasted where before there were only large pink
dots on their chests and peach-fuzz triangles of downy hair between their
legs.  I had submerged those thoughts all these years but now this little
creature was bringing them all to life again.
   "Mister?...Mister?"
   "Huh?  Oh, sorry," I said as I realized I had sunk into deep thought of
fantasies long ignored.
   "Are you gonna make some cocoa?"
   "Oh, sure," I stammered out.  "Why don't you sit here?  I'll be right
back."
   "Ok." She sat on the sofa as I crossed to the kitchen.
   "So, sweetie, does your mom have lots of boyfriends?" I called from the
kitchen.
   "Yeah she has a boyfriend almost every night and sometimes she has two."
   I held off any more conversation, shouted long-distance from kitchen to
living room, while I made the cocoa.  I poured boiling water of the
packaged powder, stirred and carried our refreshments out to the sofa
where...  (I realized I didn't know her name) ...  sat.
   "What's your name, sweetie?"
   "Why do you call me sweetie?"
   "Because I have a daughter who used to look like you do now and Ialways
called her 'sweetie.' I love her very much."
   "Oh.  My name is Janice."
   "Oh.  That's a pretty name for a pretty girl."
   "You think so?"
   "Think what?  The name or the girl?"
   "Me.  Do you really think I'm pretty?"
   "I certainly do."
   "Nobody ever calls me pretty."
   "Well, you are, believe me.  I think nicer clothes would make you even
prettier."
   "Yeah.  Mom buys these at Goodwill.  We don't have much money," Janice
sipped her cocoa silently, her eyes lifelessly looking at the carpet,
apparently lost in thought.
   "So, what does your mom do in the evenings with her boyfriends?"
   "They go into her bedroom and, like, make out."
   "How do you know?"
   "Cuz I peek sometimes when the door isn't closed.  Mom caught me once
and she spanked me real hard.  She said I shouldn't look."
   "What do they do, your mom and her boyfriends?"
   "Well, sometimes mom jumps up and down on him while he's lying on the
bed and sometims he jumps on her.  Sometimes she sucks on his....ummm..."
   "His willy?"
   "Yeah.  I don't know why she does that."
   "Because it feels good.  She is just being nice to him."
   "Oh." She sipped and thought for a minute or two and then asked, "Why
does it feel good?"
   "Hasn't your mom ever talked with you about sex and stuff?"
   "No."
   "Sometimes her boyfriend will put his head down between her legs --
where she pees.  Does that feel good, too?"
   "Yes, it does."
   "Sounds really yucky to me."
   "It sounds yucky until you try it.  It's not.  It feels really, really
good."
   "I don't know.....," she said, trailing off into thought again.
   "I said we would figure out a way to get your ten dollars back."
   "Yeah."
   "Well, we don't know who the boys were or how to find them so we'll have
to find another way for you to get ten dollars."
   "So, how can we do that?"
   "You gave me an idea when you were talking about your mom and her
boyfriends."
   "What idea?"
   "Do they give her any money?"
   "Sometimes they do.  She says they help with the rent."
   "Sometimes men give money to girls who make them feel good."
   "How much?"
   "Sometimes $10, sometimes more." I sat quietly while that sunk in.
   "Would you give me $10 if I made you feel good?"
   "Yes, I would."
   "Hmmm.  Would I have to do anything else?"
   "Nope."
   "What would I have to do to make you feel good?"
   "Well, you could suck my willy."
   "I've never sucked a willy.  I don't know how."
   "Tell you what.  I could teach you."
   "Really?  You'd do that?"
   "Yep."
   "Why?"
   "Because I like you, you're pretty, you need $10, I have $10 and you
would make me very happy if you sucked my willy."
   Janice thought again for a while.  "Could I do it tonight?"
   "Yes.  I'd like that."
   "How long would it take?"
   "About 10 or 15 minutes.  Maybe a little more or less, depending on how
good you do it."
   "Ok."
   "Two rules, though.  We have to take all our clothes off and you have to
suck me until some white stuff comes out of my willy."
   "Why?"
   "Because the white stuff means you've made me feel good and taking our
clothes off makes the white stuff come faster."
   "Ok.  Cool.  Should we take off our clothes now?" Janice started taking
off her coat.
   "Yes, we should." I removed my coat and started to unbutton my shirt. 
Janice shucked off the T-shirt she was wearing.  No bra, but she didn't
need one yet.  She pulled her shoes off, then her pants and panties and
stood before me naked.
   I admired her youthful, innocent body as I undressed.  Gawd, how she
resembled my fantasy daughter!  Pale, smoothe skin, completely untanned,
just a hint of breasts, no visible hair on her mons, little-girl legs and
no hips.  How I wanted to lick that little slit of hers!
   "Maybe you should tell me your name, mister."
   "Yeah.  I forgot.  I'm George."
   "Hi, Mister George."
   "Just George.  You don't need the "Mister" if we're going to be
friends."
   "OK.  What do I do?"
   "I'll sit on the sofa and you get down on the floor between my knees. 
Yeah, like that." My dick began to stiffen and rise up from between my
legs.
   "Wow.  That's BIG."
   "It's average for a guy.  Are you ready?"
   "I guess so."
   "Ok.  First, take it in your hand.  Feel it all over.  Wrap your fingers
around it.  Right.  Now, look at it carefully.  The head -- the cap -- is
the best part.  Now look under the head.  See how there's a "V"-shaped area
right near the tip?"
   "Yeah."
   "That's the most sensitive spot."
   "Ok."
   "Now taste the tip.  Just touch it with your tongue and tell me if it's
all right." She did and rolled her eyes as she thought about the taste.
   "It's ok," she said at last.
   Ok.  Lick it.  Play with it like an ice cream cone."
   "It's stiff but it's soft on the outdide.  It feels nice and warm, too."
   "Yes.  That's why girls like to lick and suck them.  Put it in your
mouth a little farther.  You're doing great."
   "Is the white stuff gonna come out yet?"
   "Not yet, honey.  We're just beginning.  It's your first time and you're
just learning what to do, so it'll go a little slow."
   "Ok.  Now what?"
   "Close your lips around it but watch out for your teeth.  Keep your
tongue underneath and over your teeth.  It hurts if you scrape it with your
teeth.  Rub your tongue against the underside, where I showed you the
little "V." That's it.  Oh, yeah.  That feels good.  Now just move it in
and out a little.  Keep your tongue rubbing underneath.  Ok.  Good.  Now
move your hand up and down just like you're doing with your head.  Ohhhhhh.
Terrific.  That feels good.  Now suck as you do this.  Suck for a couple of
seconds, then relax.  Again and again as you move your head and hand up and
down.  Oh, that feels good, sweetie.  You're doing great.  I'm starting to
feel good now.  Just a couple of minutes more.  That's it; keep going.  A
little faster now."
   She took my cock out of her mouth to say, "This is kinda neat.  Feels
good when I have it in my mouth.  Tastes good, too."
   "Don't stop, sweetie.  You're doing great!  Faster now." I could feel
myself tightening as she continued diligently to suck my cock.  She was
really working it now and sucking hard.  Now and then she would let it come
out of her mouth with a loud "POP" and she would giggle, really starting to
have fun with it.
   "Sweetie, the white stuff is gonna come out soon.  You can go on sucking
until it comes out in your mouth -- some girls like that -- or you can let
me finish and it'll come out onto my stomach and chest."
   "I think I wanna see it come out on your stomach.  I've never seen it
before."
   "Ok.  You can taste a little dab of it to see if you wanna let it come
into your mouth next time." I slipped the "next time" in there to make sure
she knew there could be a next time, if she wished.
   "Ok."
   I took hold of my own cock and pumped it for less than a minute before I
came in several spurts onto my stomach.  Janice remained kneeling between
my legs, watching closely.
   "Oh, wow!  That's so cool."
   The last few drops drooled down my hand.  "Dip your finger in and taste
it.  It's not bad -- a little salty, maybe."
   She used a finger to wipe up a small amount of my cum, tasting it and
pronouncing it, "Cool."
   "So, next time you might wanna let it go into your mouth.  It feels
really good when a girl keeps on sucking while I cum."
   "Maybe.  Can I have my ten-dollars now?"
   "Of course.  Let me clean up first.  I don't want to put this slimy hand
in my pocket." I went into the bathroom and washed the cum off my stomach
and hands.  When I returned to the living room, Janice was dressed again
and smiling in anticipation of her reward.  I fished out a crisp ten-dollar
bill and handed it to her.
   "Gee, thanks, Mister -- I mean George.  Can I make you feel good again?"
   "You certainly can.  anytime.  And I'll show you how a guy makes a girl
feel good, too."
   "Super.  Will I get another ten dollars?"
   "Of course.  But remember that this is just between us.  If someone
finds out, that'll be the end of the ten-dollar bills."
   I was still naked but I walked Janice to the door and let her out,
staying discreetly behind the door.  No sense alerting the naighbors to
what we were doing..
   --------------- End of Part 1 --------------
   I'm not sure if there will a Part 2.  I write sporadically but I can see
some possibilities for a continuation.  Stay tuned.
   If you have enjoyed this story so far, write to tell me at:
cyberguy20038@yahoo.com.  If you didn't enjoy it, write to tell me what's
wrong with it.  If you just think that you and I are on the same
wavelength, write to say so.  I enjoy chatting with bright and literate
people.  (And, obviously, anyone who enjoys these stories must be both
bright and literate.)

   
  
The Ten-Dollar Bill