Letitia
Chapter  One

First time I met Letitia I thought, “What a handle to hang on a little girl child.”  She was next door neighbor’s twelve-year old daughter.  I saw her in passing several times a week.  She was the only kid her age in our little neighborhood.

And she went by “Tish”.

I’d been in the neighborhood a few months now, a single guy just moving from a job on the road to one that kept me at home every night.  It was a nice transition for me.  The neighborhood, though, was mostly older couples living on fixed incomes in the homes in which they’d raised families.  My neighbors, though, well, they bought the house from one of those retired couples who decided that greener pastures were somewhere over the horizon.

If you had to characterize them, you’d be thinking blue-collar, red neck.  The dad was a welder, working construction projects and was actually step-dad to Tish.  Tish’s mom Sandra was mid thirties, seventy pounds overweight, two packs of Marlboros a day (when hubby was working and they could afford the “good stuff”), hair a frizzed, over-treated brownish mop.  The second husband had brought her a second kid, now maybe two, still in diapers.

Their front yard had a bare patch under a big tree, site of many an automotive repair, and alongside the driveway was a large, shabby travel trailer.  But they were decent people.  Not loud.  Not particularly couth, but always good for a wave or a loud greeting if I saw one in the yard.  And sometimes we stood around and talked a bit, just not very often.

Today I was working around the house, doing the dozens of things that every home owner needs to do.

She was in my front yard looking up in one of my trees when I walked around the corner.

“Hi, Tish,” I said.  “Are you looking for something?”

“Yessir,” she said.  “My Frisbee’s in your tree.  See it?  It’s orange.”

I looked up at the branches of the big oak and easily spotted the orange plastic disk.  “Yeah, I see it.  How’d it get up there?”

Little brown eyed girl looked at me, round face, short hair with some curl to it, bangs cleaved off neatly just above her eyebrows.  “I guess I kinda threw it too hard.”

“I guess so,” I said.  “You got it all the way from your yard into my tree.”

“I was tryin’ to make it come back to me.  Your tree got in the way.”

“Oh,” I said.  “I suppose you want me to get it down for you?”

“That would be every so nice of you,” she said.  Tish was a bright child, and the few conversations I’d had with her were filled with curious turns of phrase.  I recognized a little sarcasm here, punctuated with a smile.

“Okay,” I said.  “Let’s go get a ladder.”  Tish followed me around to the storage shed behind my house.  I opened the door and went in, expecting her to wait outside.  But I didn’t TELL her to wait outside, so when I turned around, I stepped right into her.  We stumbled together to the floor in a tangle.

“Oh, gosh,” I blurted, are you alright?  I didn’t know you were there!”

Her legs were tangled in mine and she was on top of me.  From chest level she looked into my eyes.  “I’m okay.  I’m sorry.  I made you fall.  Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”  I started to try and untangle us.

She was trying to do the same thing.  She put one hand on my chest and started moving her legs.  Her left leg was between my thighs and she put her other hand down to help herself up.  And it landed on my crotch.  Ol’ Dicky stirred at the attention.

She jerked her hand back. “Oops!  Sorry!  Again!”

I put my hands on her sides and started to help her off me.  When she got our legs untangled, for a brief, maybe a little longer than necessary moment, she lay on top of me with her shorts-clad pelvic mound pressed against Ol’ Dicky.  He appreciated the attention.  I froze momentarily as her eyes met mine.

Her eyes did a curious twinkly thing and she gave a little more wiggle to her hips than I thought necessary and got up.  Once she stood up, so did I.  She stepped back and as I dusted myself off, I thought I saw her looking at my shorts.

I killed the moment by pulling my ladder down from its storage rack and we went back to the front yard on a Frisbee retrieval mission.  I sat the ladder up, did a quick estimate of the distance still remaining between it and the Frisbee, and came up short.

“I need a stick, Tish,” I said.  “Lemme go see what I have in the shed.”

“Can you do that without us falling down together?”

“Oh, you’re an awful sassy little girl for somebody who wants her Frisbee back.”

She giggled.  Lovely giggle.  And she followed me back to the shed.  I got a pole.  Back to the front yard.  Up the ladder with the pole.  Tish at the bottom looking up at me.  Okay, I was wearing gym shorts, my normal warm weather yard work uniform.  And no underwear.  I never paid attention to that one detail.  Tish did.

I was poking a pole at an errant Frisbee.  Tish was looking up the wide leg of my gym shorts and getting a pretty good view of my balls.  I looked down at her and she didn’t exactly turn away, she shifted her gaze directly to my eyes as if she were waiting to see if I noticed.

I winked.  She grinned.  I moved one foot to the next rung of the ladder and that brought even more exposure.  It also brought the Frisbee crashing to earth.

Tish carried the stick back to my shed as I carried that ladder.  I stored them and she smiled.

“Thanks, Mr. Dan,” she said.

“Oh, that’s okay, baby,” I said.  “Lemme see your Frisbee.”

She handed it to me, and backed off a few yards and I flicked it to her.  And she tossed it back.  And for the next short while we tossed the disk back and forth.  I watched a lithe young girl moving with a hint of awkwardness as her body transitioned from “little girl” to “young woman”.  It was quite a pleasant sight.  She was leggy, not fat, breasts just hinting of bulges under her T-shirt, no bra, tight little buttocks working easily underneath her cotton shorts.  Maybe not headed for supermodel status, but still cute in her own way.

“You’re not married, are you?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“You’re not married.”

“Oh.  No.  Tried it a couple of times.  Didn’t work.”  I caught a sizzling toss and flipped it back.  “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

“You know and women my age that might be looking?”  I looked directly at her.

“Depends on what your age is.”  She gazed back.

“I’m forty,” I said.

She grinned.  “Nope.  Don’t know any THAT old.”

We played for a little while longer until the cool of the evening was split by the sound of her mom calling her off to supper.

“Thanks again, Mr. Dan,” she said, and then she did something unexpected.  She ran up to me and planted a quick peck of a kiss on my face and took off for her house, saying over her shoulder, “an’ thanks for playing with me!”

I went back in my own house and went back to my routine for the evening.  And the next day.  I got off work and got home, stripped out of the slacks and shirt I’d worn to the office and resurfaced in my front yard to enjoy the afternoon with a book, lounging in my front yard under the shade tree.

“Hey!”

I looked in the direction of the “Hey!” and found Tish.  “Hey, yourself!”

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Oh, let’s see…  Leaning back in a chair with a book… wearin’ shorts and a t-shirt…  I must be performing surgery.”

“Funny.”  She smirked.

“You’re not the ONLY one who can do sarcastic, you know…”

“Well stop bein’ sarcastic.  I need to ask you something.”

“What?” I said, paying a little more attention.

“You’re, like, an engineer, huh?”

“I’ve been accused of that,” I said.  “So?”

“I mean, you know all about numbers an’ math an’ stuff.”  She looked at me, oddly shy.

“Yeah, maybe not as much as I used to, but I do that kind of stuff.  Why?”

She smiled.  “I need some help.  With homework.  Mom can’t help me an’ Stan (her step-dad) can’t help me.  An’ I almost got it, but I need just a little bit of help.”  She sidled up to stand right next to my lounger.  “Can you maybe help me?”

“Sure,” I said.  “I’d be glad to.  You got books an’ stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, go get ‘em.”

Five minutes later and she was back.  With a bag of books and notebooks.  I looked at her load.  “We can’t do that out here,” I said.

“We could go in your house,” she said.

Gears started turning.  Young girl. Older single guy.  Prescription for trouble.  “We have to ask your mom, “ I said.

“Oh, she won’t mind,” said Tish.

“Yeah, maybe she won’t, but we’re gonna ask her together, okay?”  I got up and stowed my lounge chair and walked with Tish to her own house.  She walked in her front door hollering “Mommmm!”

“Yeah, Tish!” A voice came from the back of the house.  It was Tish’s mom, Sandra.

“I got Mr. Dan here.  He wants to talk with you.”

Sandra appeared from the direction of the kitchen.  “Oh, hi, Dan,” she said.  “What’s up?”

“Hey, Sandra, Tish wants some help with homework and asked if I would do it.”

“Yeah, she’s got some shit I didn’t learn when I was in school an’ me an’ Stan can’t help her.”

“Well, I don’t mind helping her, but we wanted to go in my house to do it.  I just wanted to make sure you knew about it and that was okay with you.  You know how things are these days.”

“Oh, hey, I appreciate that, Dan, but sure, I’m okay with that.”

“Okay, thanks.  You have my phone number?”

“Nope.  I don’t think I do.”

I wrote my number down for her and Tish and I walked over to my house.  We walked in the door.  Tish paused behind me and shut it.  And turned the lock.

“Why’d you do that?” I asked.

“What?”

“Lock the door.”

“Oh,“ she said, “just habit.  Our door sometimes pops open.”  Sounded kind of weak when she said it, though.

We laid out books and papers on the dining room table and I actually did help her with her homework.  It was easy, first because I KNEW the stuff, and second, because she was bright and like she’d said earlier, she almost had it.  I watched her work through the problems.  We finished in half an hour.

“Want a drink?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said.  “Got a Coke?”  She looked over my shoulder into my fridge as I opened it.  “Or a beer.  Or some of that wine…”

“Yeah, I’m gonna bring a little girl into my house and give her alcohol…  Not in THIS universe, little girl.  Here’s your Coke.”

“I’m NOT a little girl,” she faked a pout.

“Oh, sure, let’s do an inventory.  “Twelve.  Ninety pounds.  Female.  That adds up to “little girl” in most books.”

She gathered up her books into her book bag and picked it up, walked into the living room dropped it by the door and then went back to retrieve her drink and returned.  I had just settled into my recliner and kicked my shoes off.  I flipped on the TV.

“That looks good,” she said.  “Can I stay here and watch?”

Since I’d figured we’d need at least an hour for homework and we’d finished so soon, I thought it couldn’t hurt.  “Sure,” I said.  “Make yourself at home.”

Tish flopped lengthwise down on the sofa next to my recliner.  She stayed still for about thirteen seconds before she bounced up and took a swig of her drink.  She looked at me.  “Either you need to come sit over here or I come sit on your lap,” she said.

“Huh?  What’d you say?”

“I said, you need to come sit over here or I need to sit in your lap, she said.  “I really would like to be close to somebody right now.”

This was one of those turning points.  I guess I was supposed to get a little bit peeved and send her home, or at least tell her about the dangers of young girls and older men, but neither of those crossed my mind.  Instead, I heard myself say “I’m not getting up…”

Squeal.  And I had ninety pounds of twelve year old girl in my lap, her ass in my crotch, her back against my chest, and she took each of my hands and pulled them to wrap my arms around her.

“Uh, Tish,” I said, “Why’d you do this?”

“I just wanted to be held,” she said.  “I don’t get that much anymore.”

“Really?”

She turned in my arms and brushed a stray lock out of her face.  It fell back and this time I gently pushed it back behind her ear.  “Yeah, since Mom married Stan and they have the baby I don’t get any hugging an’ stuff.  I miss it.”

“Oh.”

“That’s all.  You’re nice to me.  You helped me with my homework.  And I just thought I could get a little hugging.”  Big brown eyes looking at me.

“Yeah, but baby, you gotta understand things…”

“What kinda things?” she asked.

“About guys and young girls and what people might think and the law and stuff.”

“I know about that stuff,” she said.  “Mom told me about that stuff.  I know about it.”

“No, sweetie,” I said.  “I want to tell you myself.”

“Okay.”

“What we’re doing right now, if somebody saw it, could get me in a lot of trouble, sweetie.”

“But we’re not doin’ anything.”

“I know, but that’s not important.  The law says that you an’ me can’t hardly hug without it being wrong.”

“Oh, I know,” Tish said.  “I could just go tell people that you did stuff to me and you’d be in trouble, even if you really didn’t.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much right.  So you sitting on my lap is really kind of scary to me.  Do you understand?”

“I understand.  But Mr. Dan, I will NEVER tell anyone.  I promise.  So hold me.”

I held her.  She laid her face against my chest and nestled into me.  I sniffed the sweet little girl sweetness on top of her head and sighed.  She heard my sigh and wiggled her but a little deeper in my lap.  That got a response from Ol’ Dicky.  I tried to ignore the hardening.  Tish didn’t.  Her head tiled back a little to gaze into my eyes and she wiggled a little more and there was a little smile on her face.

“Can I come over tomorrow and work on this stuff?” she asked.

“Your math stuff?”

She smiled. “Yeah.  Math stuff.”  As she was climbing out of my lap, I felt her hand drag across my dick bulging in my shorts.  I stood up, trying to feign a cramp to hide the erection in my shorts as I escorted her to the door. Her eyes told me I didn’t do a very good job of hiding it, and the eyes were not horrified, they were laughing.

As she reached to open the door, she pulled me face down to hers and gave me a little kiss, a measureable amount longer than yesterday’s peck.  She drew her face back a few inches and I could feel her breath as she said, “Thanks…”

Okay… that pretty much stirred me up. Later, as I lay in my bed, I replayed the squirmy little pre-teen ass wiggling in my lap and pulled my dick to an intense orgasm before going to sleep.

The next day when I got home from work, I spotted Tish in her front yard with her mom and baby brother.  As I pulled into my carport, I saw Tish shoulder her bookbag and head toward my door.

“Mr. Dan,” she yelled, “I need more help!”

Her mom hollered at her, “Tish, he might not be wanting you over there!”

I yelled back, “It’s okay, Sandra!”

Tish yelled at her mom, “I have A LOT of work tonight, Mom!”

I unlocked the door and let Tish in ahead of me.  She dropped her bag at the door and locked it behind me.

“Habit,” she said.

“You got a lot of work tonight?”

She looked at me, a little tentative expression on her face.  “Maybe not.”

“But you told your mom…”

“Yeah, I got the same stuff as yesterday.  I just want you to watch me do it.”

“Okay,” I said. So we went through the drill, books on the table, Tish leaning across in front of me to show me her work.  This time, though, her blouse was a little looser, and as she leaned over, I was treated to a clean look inside, a sweet pair of budding breasts, just barely enough to hang at all as she leaned over.  But nipples, oh, those little nipples were pointy and begging to be nibbled.  And what was I thinking.  Twelve.  This was prime jailbait territory.  And yet I looked.

Fifteen problems and twenty minutes later she was returning her books to their bag.

“Another Coke?” I offered.

“yes…” in a little girl voice, which was no surprise, since this WAS, in fact, a little girl.

We retired to the living room.  Again her book bag ended up by the door and she turned toward me as I stood next to the recliner.

“I need to go change out of these pants,” I said.  “”Shorts are more comfortable.”

“Okay,” she said.  “I like your shorts.”

I headed to my bedroom to change out of the slacks I’d worn at work all day.  Entering the room, I pushed the door shut behind me.  Not hard enough, though.  I thought I heard a little gasp as I stepped out of my pants and underwear and stood naked.  I stretched, nude, then bent over and stepped into my comfy old gum shorts, then dragged a t-shirt over my head.  As I turned to the door, I thought I heard little footsteps scamper up the hall.

I entered the living room.  Tish was sitting in my recliner.

“Well,” she said.

“Well what?”

“Well, are you gonna sit down for me?”

“Yeah, if you give me my chair.”

Squeal.  Lapful of Tish.  Big brown eyes looked into mine.  “Oh.  I was s’posed to ASK, huh?”

“Yeah,” I snorted.  “Right!  You OWN me…”

Another delighted squeal.  “I do!?!?  I OWN you?”

I kissed the top of her head.  “Yeah… I guess so.  Your very own forty year old guy.  What every little girl needs.”

“I’m NOT THAT little,” she said petulantly.

“Sweetie, you’re TWELVE!”

“I’m ALMOST thirteen, in a month.  And I’m NOT a little girl any more.  I’m a young woman!”

“Oh, really?  What makes you think that?

“I’ve been having periods.  Two of ‘em already.”

“Ooohhhh, that’ makes a difference.”

“Well it does!”

“You’re right.  It does.”  I kissed the top of her head again.

“An’ I know STUFF about sex an’ all that.”  She looked directly into my eyes for my reaction.

I worked very hard NOT to react, but honestly, part of my reaction WAS hard.  “So what stuff do you know?”

“I know all that stuff they teach in health class, about diseases and babies an’ stuff, and Mom gave me The Talk when I had my first period.”

“The Talk?”

“Yeah, she told me about boys an’ how they always wanted to do stuff with girls and to not do it just ‘cause they said they love you an’ stuff.”

“That’s good advice.”

Tish smiled sublimely, a smile I would come to recognize as a sign that she was getting ready to unleash a zinger.  “An’ I’ve seen a guy’s thing and seen a guy and a lady do stuff.”

Now I was curious.  “Whose thing did you see?”

“Stan’s.”  Stan was her step-dad.

“Stan showed you his thing?”

“No, silly.  He didn’t know I saw it.  I saw him an’ mom doin’ stuff.  I peeked.”

“You looked in their bedroom?”

“No, silly!  They do stuff in the living room late at night when they think everybody’s asleep.  I got up one night to get a drink an’ I heard noise in the living room and I peeped through the crack in the door and watched…”

Tish was obviously enjoying the telling of this story, so I led her to continue.  “What all did you see?”

She wiggled her butt deep into my lap.  I knew she must surely feel my dick hard under her sweet little ass.  “Well,” she said, “Mom an’ Stan were on the sofa an’ Mom got off it and kneeled between Stan’s legs an’ reached in his PJ’s an’ took his thing out.  It got real big when she started playin’ with it an’ then she SUCKED it an’ it stood straight up, an’ she pulled his PJ’s off and was playin’ with him while she sucked it an’ he started jerkin’ an’ she kept on suckin’ an’ he was makin’ noises an’ finally she stopped when he got all quiet and when she stopped suckin’ him it was soft again.”

“Really?  Anything else?”

Her eyes were sparkling.  “Yeah…  Then he pulled her nightgown up an’ pulled her panties off an’ he just started lickin’ her on her PUSSY!”

Tish knew what a “pussy” was.  “Okay,” I said.

She continued, “An’ she started makin’ noise an’ holdin’ his head down between her legs, like she was really liking what he was doin.  An’ his dick got hard again…”

Tish knew what a “dick” was…  “Really,” I said.

“An’ when he was hard, he showed it to her an’ he laid back on the sofa an’ she got on top of him…”  She looked at me.  “They was fuckin’, huh?”

I smiled.  “That’s not a nice way of saying it, but yes, that was fucking.  Or making love.  Or having sex.”  I had to reach into my own crotch and move my dick.  It was as hard as a rock.

As I pulled my hand out from under her ass, she looked at me with a smile.  “You’re hard, huh?”

“Yeah, pretty much so.”

“Mom says guys get hard when they get excited.”

“Yeah, that’s usually right.  Sometimes it gets hard for no reason, but usually it means a guy is excited.”

Squeal.  Giggle.  “Then that’s MY fault!”

“Yeah.  I can’t help it.  Your story kinda got me excited.”

“Just the story?”

“That, and you wiggling your heinie in my lap.”

Giggle.  “So!” she said, “All that other stuff they did, with their mouths an’ stuff, that’s all, like, NORMAL?”

“Yeah, sweetie, it is.  Sounds like your mom and Stan have a happy sex life.”

“They sound like they have fun.”

“Yeah.”

“Mom told me that when the time was right, sex could be fun.”

“Your mom is right.”

She looked down, then back up at me.  That sublime smile.  “An’ you’re hard.  For me.”

“Uh, Tish, this isn’t something that I should be discussing with you.”

That brought movement as Tish squirmed up to plant a long kiss on my lips, then still gazing into my eyes, she slid her hand down under her own ass and squeezed my dick.  I moaned.

“You know, I looked in your pants the other day.”

“I thought so.  That’s why I winked at you.  You’re a bad little girl.”

“And YOU were looking down my blouse while ago.”

“Guilty.”

“And I watched you change clothes.”

“You did what?”

“I watched you when you went in your bedroom to change.  I saw you naked.”  Giggle.  “You’re not mad, are you?”

“Tish, you’re killing’ me.”  I took a deep breath.

She sat straight up, grasped the hem of her blouse and in one smooth motion peeled it over her head, then looked at me with a smile.  “Since you already saw everything…”

I caught my breath.  I stared.  What a beautiful set of tiny titties.  I touched one, feeling the firm flesh underneath my fingers, then gently touched the nipple.  It was her turn to catch her breath.  “Beautiful,” I said.  “absolutely beautiful.”

Her eyes closed while I explored her tits.  Finally I couldn’t stand it.  I bent my head down and gently licked and sucked.  Tish liked.   Tish’s hands held Dan’s face into her chest.

Finally she spoke.  “Oh, Dan…  That feels so good…”

“I love it, Tish.”

“But I showed you what YOU peeked at.  You have to show me what I peeked at.”

“But you already saw me naked…”

“uh-huh.  And your point?”

“Okay, baby.  Get up so I can stand up.”  Tish bounced off my lap and sat on the sofa as I stood.  I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts and slid them off, stretching the elastic waistband out to clear my erection.

Tish was staring as I let my shorts fall to the floor and then stepped out of them in front of her.  “Can I touch it?” she asked.

Oh, I was past going to jail.  “Sure, baby.  It’s yours.”  He little hand tentatively grasped the shaft and fondled.

“Let’s go where you can lay down so I can play with it,” she said.  “Can we go to your bedroom?”  Ten seconds later we were in my bedroom.  “You just as well take off your shirt,” she said.  I peeled off my shirt.  As I tossed it aside, my little Tish, naked from the waist up, looked at me with a little shyness and then bent over to strip off her shorts and panties.  She stood up.

“Come here, sweetness,” I said, holding my arms out for her.  She stepped into my arms and wrapped hers around me as we embraced, naked.  I turned my face to hers and she kissed me on the mouth.

A second kiss.  And a whisper, “What’s that tongue thing that people do when they kiss?”

“That’s what people call French kissing.  Partners open their lips and their tongues touch.”

“Kiss me again.”

I did.  I felt her tongue brush my lips and I parted them.  Our tongues met.  For a second she was tentative, then exploring, then urgent.  I held our kiss, and I held her in my arms as I rolled backward pulling her on top of me into bed.  Laying on top of me, my dick was trapped between us.

It’s twitching brought her back to lucidity.  “Mmmmmm, Dan, you kiss good.”

“So do you, Tish.”

Her hand reached down and wrapped my dick.  Giggle.  “I want to play with this.”  I let her.  She scooted down to bring it to eye level and played with the skin, sliding it over the shaft.  Her fingertips played with the head.  “That’s soooo soft,” she said, and she rubbed it against her cheek.  Her fingers toyed with my balls as I explained the sensitivities and mechanics.

All this activity had my dick nearing diamond-cutting hardness and naturally a big drop of pre-cum oozed out.  “That’s not pee, is it?” she asked.

“No, baby, that’s a lubricant it puts out when it’s excited.  It’s supposed to make it easier for it to go inside a girl.”

“That’s not the baby-making stuff?”

“No, that stuff is white and it squirts out when a guy has an orgasm.  Some people call it “coming”.”

“That’s what Stan said when I was watching,” she squealed.  Then, “So, like when Mom was sucking on him, this stuff was coming out?”

“Yeah.  Probably.”

Tish looked at the clear droplet.  Her finger reached out, touching it.  She rubbed her fingertips together.  She retrieved a bit more, looked at me and as I watched her lips parted and she stuck her fingertip into her mouth. “Hmmm! I could LIKE that!  She climbed up my torso and kissed me.  Long.  Then whispered in my ear.  “I think I need to suck on you.”  And she slid back down.  Her eyes watched mine as her pink tongue touched the underside of the head of my dick.

“Mmmmmm, baby…” I moaned.

IF a simple lick could produce a moan, then the next move as she sucked the head of my dick into her mouth almost stopped my heart.  “Oooohhhhh!” I moaned.

Her head bobbed up.  “Am I doing it right?”

“Yes, very much YES, baby!”

“So when Mom sucked on Stan, did he do his baby stuff in her mouth?”

“Yeah, probably so.”

“Then that’s what I want to do to you!”

“Baby,” I said, “That would be wonderful.  Some girls like that.  Some don’t.  Maybe you ought to try that later.”

“Nuh-uh, Dan.  I want YOU to do that.  In my mouth.  Tell me what to do.”

And I guided my little pupil on how I wanted it.  She learned that I like a little bit of teeth.  That her hand can work with her mouth.  That my balls love to be played with.  And all the while I was building to orgasm.  A big one.

Her head was bobbing up and down, sassy hair bobbing with the motion.  Her hand was pumping my shaft in time with her mouth.

“Oh, baby!  I’m getting close!”

Her lips left my dick with an audible pop.  “Mmmm!  I can tell.  You’re flooding me with that clear stuff!”  And she slid supple lips back down over the head of my dick.

“Gah!  Baby.  Don’t Stop!”  My hips were bucking up to meet her mouth and she was using her hand to keep me from plunging it too deep into her mouth.  “Gahhhh!”  And the first spurt left my dick into her mouth.  It was a big squirt and her head jerked back off my dick just in time for the second spurt to splash full on her cheek.  She reconnected with my dick as the third and subsequent surges came, and she kept on sucking.

“Easy now, princess…” I coached, “It’s very sensitive.  Just suck gently now and use your hand to squeeze and milk it out.”

And she did, nursing on my softening dick until I finally pulled her up toward me.  Smiling, she crawled upward on top of me and still looking into my eyes she made a big show of wiping the semen splatter off her cheek.  I thought that would end up on the sheet but she stuck her semen-coated fingers into her mouth and then kissed me full on the lips.  Our tongues met and knotted together.

“Dan, did I do good?”

I showered her with kisses.  “Oh, yes, my baby, oh, yes…”

“Dan, will you do stuff to me now?”