Dorsai

A good neighbor

I make a pretty good living as a free-lance programmer. I sort-of specialize in writing assembly-language code for microcontrollers, and I'm damn good at what I do — the people I work for are always happy to give me a reference when I need one. That I'm able to meet tight deadlines, too, makes customers glad to pay my only slightly outrageous fees.

Because I can make the income I do, I've never had to go out and get a "real job"; I get to work from home, instead of slogging in to some beige corporate environment. Another benefit is that because I don't have to punch any kind of time clock, and my only job requirement is to deliver good code by the deadline, I'm free to work whatever schedule makes me happy… if I want to take a couple hours off to go play golf on a nice day, there isn't anybody to tell me "no". It also means that I've been able to get to know my neighbors pretty well. The couple in the place south of mine are a couple of retirees that aren't visited by their kids as much as they'd like, though they get to spend plenty of time with their grandkids. Every so often, they'll ask me to come over and deal with some technical issue that they can't figure out; stuff like programming numbers into their cell phones, or hooking things back up whenever she decides their TV/stereo stand has to be rearranged, and that kind of thing.

Across the street is a middle-aged couple that both have to work more time than they'd like to support their keep-up-with-the-Joneses lifestyle. They're a nice couple, and doing the best they can, but argue over money that they don't have, to pay for stuff that they don't need… or even really want.

To my north, a younger couple moved in a few years ago. Bill and Andrea Patterson were just a few years younger than me, with two daughters — Emma, then 3, and Gail, 2, both of them cuties. He was an office drone with some big company, worried about his job more than he should, and had to travel a lot. He made enough money that she didn't have to work, but she had a part-time job mostly for something to do after their girls started school. Bill was about my height, though a little heavy from not enough exercise, with dark hair and brown eyes. Andrea was a couple inches shorter, and somewhat slender, which made her bust look larger than it really was. With pale blond hair that she usually wore in a loose pony tail, and lovely blue eyes, she was always nice to look at. Them being close to my age, and living right next door, I got invited over for back yard cookouts and the like fairly often. In exchange, I gave their daughters permission to use my above-ground pool any time they liked, once they got old enough. They were well-behaved, and intelligent and vivacious enough that I actually didn't mind having them around; I'm usually not much on other people's kids. As a result, they grew up knowing me; I was even closer to them than some of their blood relatives.

All of that changed a couple of years ago when he told his wife that he'd met someone else, and wanted a divorce. She was heartbroken, and tried to find some way to salvage their marriage, but he didn't want any part of it. When she finally got the whole story from him, it turned out that he and one of the female execs at his company had been on a business trip and ended up spending more time together than was necessary. From there, things quickly escalated to the two of them having an affair; he wanted the divorce so that he could go live with his mistress. Realizing that she was fighting a lost cause, Andrea finally agreed.

Their divorce wasn't particularly nasty or vicious, but there was still a fair amount of upset and ill-will by the time it was done. I know, because Andrea would come over to cry on my shoulder… figuratively and literally. After Bill bailed out on her, Andrea didn't have anywhere near the financial resources she did before; she even had to get a regular full-time job to make ends meet, despite the alimony and child support she got from Bill. That meant that Emma and Gail weren't able to do the things that they wanted as much, either — which had them coming over to swim in my pool more than they had before. I said that both of them were cuties, and that was true when they were younger. But shortly after the divorce, first Emma, then Gail, hit puberty and started to grow up — and out. With them coming over to use the pool more often, I got more and better chances to appreciate their developing bodies, and how pretty both of them were getting. I've always thought that pubescent girls had an innocent beauty, and seeing the blond Emma and Gail starting to grow more womanly shapes didn't do anything to change my mind.

One of the things that developed before the divorce was that both of the girls knew that they could come over to my place if they needed help with something when their parents weren't home. It didn't happen very often, but there were still a few times that I'd go over to deal with an overly-aggressive spider or other bug, or they'd want to stay at my place for comfort and reassurance when there was a particularly enthusiastic thunderstorm going on.

After the divorce, with Andrea working full time, they gradually began to turn to me more and more. Not for dealing with bugs (Emma was quite capable and willing to dispatch them by that time), but more as a substitute father figure. I'd brought it up with Andrea, and while she wasn't happy about it, she realized that they needed SOME adult male figure in their lives after losing their father. She did tell me that if they ever got in the way of my work, or became nuisances, that I should send them home; otherwise, she was just grateful that I was willing to give them the attention they needed. I asked if there was any subject she needed or wanted me to stay away from with them, and she managed to give me a half-grin before answering "If you're asking that, then I think it would be a good idea if I said 'no'." I quickly assured her that neither of them had brought up anything special; that I was just trying to find out ahead of time. I could see that she was relieved, but she still told me "Even so, it still seems like a good idea for them to have someone I can trust to go to. I'm only going to ask that you let me know if anything comes up that you think I need to be aware of, and that you don't say anything bad about Bill — he's still their father, and he does get custody of them sometimes."

After I assured her that I'd be happy to comply with both requests, she just smiled and said

"Thanks, Gary. I appreciate that."

Several weeks after that conversation, Andrea came over one evening. Even though I was always glad to see her, I could tell that there was something on her mind as we idly chatted. I finally just came out and asked her "Andrea, I can tell that there's something going on with you tonight. You want to tell me what it is?"

Realizing that she'd been busted, Andrea blushed before telling me "My boss talked to me the other day, and told me that he'd like to promote me a level at work — but that he can't until I get this one certification; something I have to take care of on my own. I've checked around, and there's a place not too far away where I can get it. I've got the money to pay for getting there, and the test, and everything; there's just one problem that I can't seem to get around."

From the way she'd acted, and how she was telling me all that, I pretty much knew that I had to figure into whatever solution she'd come up with. "What is it?", I asked, "You know I'll help, if I can."

Somewhat nervously, she told me "There isn't any way I can take the test for the certification without spending at least ONE night away from home. Would… would you be okay with watching after Emma and Gail? For just one night? It could be here or at my place; either one would be fine with me, and I'd be glad to give you some money for a pizza or something so you didn't have to worry about feeding them. I know they wouldn't be any trouble, because both of them like you so much. And…"

Waving my hands in the air, I interrupted her to say "Sure, I can keep an eye on them for a night; that's not a problem. Don't worry about getting them fed, either. Go take your test and get certified for whatever, so you can get that promotion and start making a little more money. I know you have a hard time keeping up with everything, sometimes."

From the look on her face, I knew that she still thought she was asking me a big favor (she wasn't), and that she was grateful that I was willing to help her out that way. It didn't take us long to work out the details; I had only my bed at my place, so me going over to her house so the girls could sleep in their own beds was a no-brainer. I agreed to let Andrea cook supper for us before she left, so that all we'd have to do would be heat it up when we were hungry. Despite her assurances that it was fine for me to use her bed, I told her I'd just sleep on the couch, since it was easily large and comfortable enough for me. Emma and Gail would be informed in no uncertain terms that whatever I said was law until she got home, just to make sure they behaved themselves; I knew they would, anyway, but it made Andrea feel better to tell me that she'd say it. There were a couple of other things, but they were fairly trivial and easily dealt with. Andrea was going to call to make her appointment to take the test the next day; when she got home, she'd be able to tell me when I'd be pulling Substitute Parent duty.

We chatted a little bit longer before she told me that she needed to get home again. On her way out, she thanked me again (a couple of times) for agreeing to help her out.

She let me know the next evening that her appointment was for Tuesday of the following week.

That easily fit with what I had to do, and I reassured her that I'd be able to look after the girls without any problems.

The next time Emma and Gail came over, both of them were happy for their mother, and delighted that I was coming over to spend the night with them. I let them know that I was glad to keep them company, and that seemed to be all they needed to hear before they went out back to swim for a little while. I welcomed the opportunity to stay inside where I could watch them without being noticed, entranced by their lithe figures in the bikini swimsuits their mother let them wear. Both girls had small, but noticeable, busts (Emma's was naturally a trifle larger); and both of them had firm little asses that were a treat to watch. At their age (14 and 13, at that time), they still looked a little coltish with their long, slender legs — but that was part of their beauty, to me. As they splashed around in the cool water, I caught occasional glimpses of hard nipples denting the cups of their bikini tops.

They came over again a couple of days later, and I let them talk me into joining them in the pool.

A water fight gave me the opportunity to see that their suits weren't quite as opaque when wet; the bumps of hard nipples told me were to look for nipple colors — I couldn't see a color for Emma, and Gail's looked to be a dark pink. I couldn't see any indication of the color of their pubic hair, which suggested that they either didn't have any, or it was as blond as what was on their head — both choices appealed to me equally. A little later, we got into a dunking contest, which gave me the chance to get their nubile young bodies in my hands and arms as we tried to push each other under the surface. By the time we got out of the pool, I was actually looking forward to spending the evening with them…

When the fateful day arrived, Andrea came over to get me about an hour before she had to leave; that let her make sure I heard her tell them to behave themselves, and that they knew what their bed time was, and that they should go to bed just like they always did. The girls exchanged a look with each other at that, but I didn't think anything of it. Some time later, the cab Andrea needed showed up, and she left to catch the train that would take her the couple hundred miles to the town where her test was given. Emma and Gail wanted us to play a board game, but I told them that they needed to take care of their homework first. Andrea had told me that both of them had schoolwork to do almost every night, and I thought there was a pretty good chance that they'd try to get out of it without their mother there. The expressions on their faces told me that they'd tried to put one over on me, and it hadn't worked; with the admonishment that they needed to take care of school first, both went back to their rooms, leaving me alone to watch a little bit of television.

Not being much of a cook, I carefully followed the printed instructions Andrea had left for the casserole she'd made for us. My timing was almost perfect; the girls came into the kitchen to ask about supper just a couple of minutes before the timer went off, letting me know that the food was ready. Supper was casual, and informal; when it was over, both of them got up and quietly went about taking care of the dishes and leftovers. After they were done, I told them that I'd take both of them on in the board game they'd wanted to play. After Gail had beaten Emma, and thoroughly trounced me, the three of us sat in the living room to watch television. When their bed time came, both of them got up and let me know they were going to bed — and asked if it would be okay for them to kiss me good night. I said that it would, and they hurried back to their rooms to get ready for bed.

My attention was on the TV, so I didn't notice when they came back into the living room until one of them cleared her throat. When I turned toward them, I wasn't anywhere near ready for their appearance — all either of them had on was a (very!) brief pair of panties. No shirt, no top, no bra, nothing to conceal their breasts. After I managed to drag my eyes up to their faces, I asked "And just what do you think you're doing, coming in here like that?"

Emma just smiled, and told me "Mom said we should go to bed just like we always do — and this is it. Honest, you can even ask her when she gets back."

Gail calmly informed me "Besides, we saw how you were looking at us in your pool the other day, and we thought you'd like to see what we look like.", followed by Emma's nod of agreement.

Somehow, I didn't doubt that that was exactly how they "dressed" for bed each night. With Gail's invitation that I could look at them, I did just that.

As I'd thought, Emma's bust was a bit larger than her sister's — but not by a whole lot. Her areolas were just a trifle darker than her skin, which easily explained why I hadn't been able to see them through her bikini top. Each was about the diameter of a nickle, and sported a nipple that was perhaps a quarter of an inch across, and the same high. Her breasts were each roughly the size of half an orange, and rounded. When I looked at Gail, I saw that her areolas were rose pink, and slightly puffy, with nipples that were perhaps the size of a Navy bean. Her breasts were a bit larger than half a tennis ball, and more conical than rounded. I couldn't see a mark or blemish on either girl, and their skin looked like pale pink porcelain, it was so fine and delicate in appearance. My eyes dropped to their panties, and I saw that both pairs were sheer enough to let me see that each girl had small, sparse patch of hair only marginally darker than what was on her head.

After I'd done my best to memorize the sight of them, I told them "You're lovely — both of you.

Thank you for letting me see you like this, though your mom would have a conniption if she ever found out you did it. Now, off to bed for you both."

First Gail, then Emma, stepped forward to give me a kiss on the cheek before turning and walking back toward their rooms — giving me the pleasure of watching their lovely little butts as they moved away from me.

Once they were gone, I sat back on the couch again and started wondering what had prompted them to give me that little show. Yes, Gail had said they thought I'd like to see what they looked like; and yes, Emma had said that was how they always went to bed — but I didn't think for even a moment that they didn't know what Andrea had meant about them going to bed, or that there wasn't something more involved than just letting me look at them.

For the rest of the evening, I couldn't figure out what was going on with them. But by the time I was ready to go to bed, I'd decided that I was not only willing to accept whatever they offered, but even see how far I could get them to go with it.

Both girls turned up fully dressed for breakfast the next morning, and after they'd left for school, I went back to my place to work. Andrea got home late that afternoon, and came over to collect the girls, who had come to my house after school. I didn't have any trouble convincing her that they hadn't been any trouble at all, which pleased all three of them. Andrea told me that she'd passed the test, and would have her certification within a week — and then hugged me and kissed me on the cheek, thanking me for helping her get it by watching out for her daughters.

While she wasn't movie star material, Andrea was still attractive and had a nice shape, so I was glad to be able to hug her back. When she'd released me, she told me that I was invited over the following Sunday for a special meal to thank me. I told her it wasn't necessary, but gave in when she insisted.

Emma and Gail both came over to use the pool on Saturday, and after they'd been in the back yard for a little while, I went out to check on them. Both told me how happy their mom was to have been able to take the test, and that her boss had promised her a promotion by the end of the month.

As we were chatting, I make a point of letting both of them see me looking them over; after a bit, I casually commented "After I stayed with you the other night, and the way you came in to kiss me good night, I thought you'd be letting me look at you more."

Gail asked what I meant, and I told her "After you let me see you like that once, it isn't like you've got to hide yourselves, or anything. And I told you that I thought you were both lovely, so you don't have to worry that I won't like how you look, either. I guess you're not as grown up as I thought you were, after that."

Both of them looked at me for a few seconds before Emma asked "You… you really liked how we looked? You didn't think our boobs are too small, or anything?"

"Of course I liked how you looked — didn't I tell you that? And no, I don't think your boobs are too small. As a matter of fact, I think they're very nice — both of you."

Gail hesitantly told me "We weren't sure you really meant it when you said we were lovely; we thought maybe you were just saying that to make us feel good, or so we'd go away."

When she was done, Emma asked "It's really okay with you if we show you our boobs again?"

I answered them by saying "I think you know that I have never lied to you" — both nodded, because I hadn't — "so why would I say something like that if I didn't mean it? It's certainly okay with me if you want to show me your boobs, if that's what you want to do. I think both of you are very pretty, and your breasts are nice to look at. Even if you wanted to just go around topless over here, it would be okay with me. But it's up to you whether you think you're mature enough to do that or not, of course." With the tall privacy fence around the back yard, nobody was going to be able to see the relatively secluded corner where the pool was.

As I figured, the suggestion that only mature people would be agreeable to going topless hit them in a sensitive spot; one of the things I'd learned over the years was that pubescent girls almost always want to believe they're more mature and adult than they really are.

But I changed the subject to something else, and we chatted for another few minutes; when their was a lull in the conversation, Emma looked at me, then her sister, before reaching back and unfastening the top of her bikini — then removed it and set it aside. A few moments later, Gail did the same thing, leaving me sitting there with clear views of two pairs of firm young mammaries. I didn't make any big deal out of what they'd done, however. I just smiled at both of them, then went back to talking to them as though half-naked teenyboppers was something I saw every day. After a bit, both of them stopped looking quite as nervous; by the time I had to go back to work, they were as calm and relaxed as they could be. Inside my house, I looked out at them and watched as they decided to go for another dip in the pool — without bothering to put their tops back on.

I checked on them a few more times while they were at my place, and they didn't put the tops of their suits back on until right before they went home.

The next time Gail and Emma came over, they were on their own in the back yard; I was busy with a tricky bit of code I was working on. When they first showed up, I noticed that both kept their bikini tops on; but when I looked at them a little later, both had opted to shed them, to my pleasure.

When I went out to check on them, both looked a trifle nervous at first, but when I didn't stare or say anything, they settled down again quickly enough.

After that, any time they came over, one of the first things they'd do would be rid themselves of the encumbrance of the top half of their suits. Emma finally told me that they'd decided that they liked the feeling of swimming and laying in the sun topless, and that my casual acceptance of their semi-nudity made them feel a lot better about it. Even so, both kept the cloth handy on the off chance that their mother came over — neither thought that she'd understand. The gate they and Andrea used had a noisy spring on it, so the sound of the gate opening would give them time to grab their tops and jump in the pool where they'd be out of sight while they got them back on; something that proved necessary a couple of times. Both times that happened, they had an attack of nerves afterwards. The first time, they kept their tops on the rest of the time they were swimming; after the second, Emma, then Gail, opted to go topless again after a few minutes.

Once they'd gotten comfortable about being topless around me, I finally let them talk me into joining them for a swim again. It wasn't difficult to get them into a dunking contest again, and even though I was careful not to actually put my hands on their tits, I still got enough of a feel of them on my arms and chest and back to appreciate how firm they were. Neither girl seemed to have any problems or concerns about the contact while we were playing, or afterwards.

Andrea got the promised promotion, and the pay raise that went with it.

She also discovered that she'd also acquired some additional duties — duties that made it necessary for her to work later than she liked, and more often than she wanted to. But the additional income was too good to pass up, so she accepted the necessity of the added hours.

Those additional later hours meant that she wasn't home as much, too. Rather than leave the girls on their own all the time, she asked if it would be okay for them to come over to my place sometimes, while they did their homework, or studied. With Emma and Gail both understanding that when I was working, I couldn't give them much of my attention, I didn't have any problem with that. Still, Andrea and I both made sure that the girls knew that it wasn't to be an every day kind of thing, and that the business of not bothering me while I was working still applied.

After a few weeks, it became clear that the two of them were coming over maybe a bit over half the times Andrea had to work late. I wasn't obliged to be working all that time, so there were chances for me to sit around with them — helping with their homework if they needed it, just generally keeping them company, or whatever.

I used those occasions to begin getting them comfortable talking to me about things; more than just the day-to-day kinds of stuff that usually occupied our conversations. Rather, I was interested in moving things to the point that either of them would be willing to talk to me about more and more personal and intimate topics. I started out by just making small comments about minor things in passing; then I began to include more and more subjects, again keeping my remarks short and casual. Once they were comfortable with that, I gradually drew them into the subjects; by the time I was done, neither of them was the slightest bit reluctant to talk to me about virtually anything — even to letting me know when one of them wasn't going to swim because she was having her period.

While that was going on, I was also getting them used to physical contact with me. Before, I'd always been pretty meticulous about touching either of them — ironically, for the very reasons that I was then trying to get it to happen. I'd always accepted a kiss on the cheek from one of them, or was willing to hold hands, but I carefully and patiently went about increasing the frequency and intimacy of my touches. From simply sitting a trifle closer to them when I helped with their homework, I eventually got them to casually accept a playful pat on the butt from me

— and then even more carefully proceeded to even more personal contact with them.

I really knew my efforts were paying off one afternoon when it was just me and Emma one afternoon. Gail had stayed late for some school event, so rather than sit home by herself, Emma had come over to my place to talk. It seemed that she'd been in the girls locker room after her Gym class, and had heard some of the older girls talking — about being with their boyfriends.

While she knew, at least in general terms, what they'd been saying, there was still some of it that she didn't understand. Rather than bother her mom after she got home from work, Emma had decided that I might be able to help with her questions. We were sitting at opposite ends of the couch when she began to tell me what prompted her to come over.

"When I heard the older girls, they were talking about whether or not their boyfriends made them cum. I had to hear them talk about it for a little bit before I understood that they were talking about having orgasms. I told you that Mom already talked to me and Gail about that stuff, so I kinda knew what they were talking about, but not really, you know? I mean, I've touched myself between my legs and everything, and it feels good — sometimes real good — but I don't think I've ever had one of those. Anyway, then they started talking about what their boyfriends did to them, and what they did to themselves. I understood the stuff they were saying about themselves okay, but I didn't know what they meant when they were talking about other stuff."

I nodded, and she went on "Anyway, after they were done, they finished getting dressed and went to their other classes. I don't think any of them really noticed I was there, because none of them said anything to me; usually, they tease me about having small tits or not having enough hair, you know, between my legs; and that made me start wondering if having bigger boobs or more hair had something to do with what they were talking about. I kept thinking about all of it the whole time I was at school — one of my teachers even kinda yelled at me for not paying attention. I know I should maybe wait for Mom to get home from work, but she always has to work late on Thursdays, and she's usually pretty tired when she gets home. I don't want to bother her if I don't have to, so I was hoping that maybe you could explain what those girls at school were talking about to me, so I understand. We don't usually talk about stuff like this, but I figure if I can talk to you about touching myself and all that, then it should be okay to talk about this stuff, too. So would you?"

"Well, I can, if you want. But from what you said, there was some of it that you kinda understood, but not really, because even though you've talked with your Mom and everything, you've never really done some of it. I don't know how much us just talking about it is going to help with stuff like that. Then there's the things that you said you aren't sure if they make any difference, or not. I don't think they would, but I'm not you, so I can't be sure. I'm perfectly willing to sit and talk with you like this about all of it, for as long as you want. I just don't know how much good it will do, just talking. I'm sure you would understand better if you had actually done some of the things they were talking about, but whether or not you want to… that's something you're going to have to decide. Why don't you think about it for a little bit, and I'll go get us some sodas?"

She nodded her agreement, and I got up and went into the kitchen. To give her a little more time, I didn't just grab a couple cans of soda; I actually put it into glasses, with ice cubes to help keep it cold. By the time I got back and settled myself at the other end of the couch from her again, a few minutes had gone by. I handed her a glass, and after she'd taken a sip from it, I asked "So what do you want me to help? Talking? Doing? Both?"

She hesitated only a moment before answering "I think both. As much as they tease me about my boobs and hair, I… I'd like you to look at me, and see if I'm okay. I know you think my boobs are big enough, but you've never seen my hair… you know, there. After you look at me, you can tell me if what I have makes any difference. From the way those girls were talking, and the stuff I've read, I think that an orgasm sound like it's pretty good — so if you can maybe help me have one, I'd like that. I kinda know what some of the other stuff they were talking about it, but if it's okay with you, I want to make sure I'm right. Then maybe I'll understand what else they were saying."

Even though I kept my face impassive, I was jumping for joy in my mind — I was finally going to not only see the cute little Emma completely naked, but it sure sounded like I was even going to be able to get my hands on her… and better still, for the express purpose of helping her have her first ever climax. Could life get and better?

Outwardly calm, I asked her "When did you want to start? And how?"

"I thought I'd just get naked first, so you could look at me. Then if there's something wrong, we won't have to bother with that other stuff…"

"That's fine, Em. I told you, you don't have to do anything with me. If you want to, that's fine with me; I'm not going to do anything to hurt you or scare you, because you're asking me to help you, and that's what I want to do. If anything starts to bother you, tell me, and we'll stop, okay?"

She smiled and nodded before answering "I know you wouldn't hurt me or scare me, Gary. But if I don't like something, I'll tell you."

With that, she turned and set her glass on the table at her end of the couch, then stood up. I could see that she was a trifle nervous, but she didn't hesitate for a moment while ridding herself of her blouse, then bra, then skirt, shoes and socks, and finally her panties. Naked as the day she was born, she turned to face me, not doing anything to cover herself. With the time and opportunity to really look at her, I could see that her bust had grown some since the time she and her sister had exposed themselves to me the first time. Her waist and hips were still developing more womanly curves, but formed a series of gentle arcs that was nice to look at. Her belly only had a little bit of the paunch that most women do from having their reproductive organs on the inside; at the base of her belly, she had a small narrow wedge of somewhat sparse hair that was only marginally darker than what her head sported. I didn't have any trouble making out her mons, or the cleft that divided it. When I raised my eyes to her face, she actually surprised me by turning around to show me how she looked from the back. The first thing I had to look at was the pair of small, tight globes that formed her ass. Smooth and visibly firm, it was all I could do to drag my eyes away from it to look at the rest of her. The expanse of her back was as smooth and blemish-free as it could be; her slender and graceful neck sat atop her delicate shoulders. After dropping my eyes to marvel at her ass again, I lowered them some more, and found myself enjoying the look of her long, slender legs. I cleared my throat, and she turned to face me again before asking

"Do you want to look between my legs, too? I hardly have any hair there, and I'm not sure how much difference that makes."

Careful not to reveal my delight at her offer, I answered "I suppose it couldn't hurt to look…"

She didn't blush in the slightest at the idea of me looking at her so intimately; she just took a seat on the couch, then rested on her tailbone before putting one foot on the floor, and raising the other leg to rest it on the back of the couch. I started to lean forward, then stopped and looked at her. She realized I wanted to know if I could look closer, and she told me "It's okay."

Careful not to get too close, I leaned forward so that I could see the area between her smooth thighs. Her pubic hair thinned quickly past about the midpoint of her mons; the lower third of her mound was completely bare. With her spread open that way, I could see her inner lips, which were small and thin — between them, I could faintly see the entrance to her vagina. To my surprise, the area between her labia looked like it was somewhat shiny — as though some of her young woman's oils had escaped her. I caught only the faintest whiff of her unique female scent, but it was enough to make my mouth water with how light and fresh it was.

I didn't spend as much time looking at her as I would have liked for the simple reason that I was ostensibly simply making sure she was suitably developed; when I'd sat up again, she demurely brought her legs back together, then just sat there, still naked. I looked into her eyes and told her

"You've got everything you're supposed to have, and I don't see that you're missing anything. For your age, I think you're about as developed as you should be. Maybe it doesn't seem like much, now, but I don't doubt that everything will be okay as you get older. You're very pretty now, and I know you're going to be beautiful when you're grown up. Okay?"

I could tell that my words gave her the comfort and reassurance she needed and wanted. We sat there in silence for a few seconds as I watched her deep in thought. When she turned her attention to me again, she wanted to know "Is that orgasm thing really as nice as it sounds like?

That it's even better than the best I've ever felt when I touched myself?"

I smiled before answering "I can't answer those questions, Em. First, I'm not a girl, so I don't know what an orgasm is like; when it happens for guys, it's usually called a climax. Second, I'm not you, so I can't know how good you feel. All I can tell you is that when I've been with a woman that has had one, she sure seemed to like it. And there's no point in asking me what it's like, even for guys — honestly, there really aren't the words to try and describe it. It's just one of those things that you have to experience; once you do, you'll know why you can't tell anyone else how it feels. I'm sorry."

She considered that in silence for a few moments before asking me "Could you maybe help ME

have one, then? So I know? Sometimes when I touch myself, I can kinda feel myself getting close to something, but it hasn't happened yet."

With a serious expression, I told her "I could try to help you, but there are a couple of things that I have to make sure you understand, first."

"What's that?"

"The most important one is that for me to do that, I'd have to touch you. Not just pat you on the butt like I do, but on your boobs, and even between your legs; the same way you touch yourself."

Giving me a mildly exasperated look, she said "Of course you'd have to touch me. That's what I want you to do!"

I gave her a smile before getting serious again so I could say "Okay, I just had to make sure you really understood that. Something else that you have to understand is that there are laws that say

I'm not supposed to touch you like that because it's sexual. I know, that's what you want to find out — what it's like to have an orgasm, which is automatically sexual, but that doesn't change the fact that there are laws against it. So what you have to understand is that if I did that, I could be sent to jail, or even prison, for a long time. I'd almost certainly lose everything I own so that I could try to pay for lawyers so I could try to stay out of jail or prison, or at least be there for as little time as possible. The last thing is that people would know that I did touch you that way, and everybody would think I was some kind of pervert or child molester. I probably wouldn't be able to get a job anyplace because of that, and nobody would want to be my friend. Almost nobody would want to have anything to do with me; I probably wouldn't even be able to have a girlfriend. The last thing is part of the against the law part — all of that would happen to me if anybody ever found out about it… the police, one of your teachers, the parents of one of your friends, anybody could tell on me, and get me into all that trouble. Now, I know that I'm not doing anything to hurt you, or trying to trick you into doing anything you don't want to, and I'm willing to help you like you want. But I have to be sure that I'm not going to have all those other problems because of it — I have to know that I can trust you not to say anything to anybody that would tell on me. Remember, almost every adult you know would think that I was doing something bad to you, and would tell on me because they didn't understand what we were doing, and why. You'd have to be careful about all the people you know that are your age, too, because I think you know that they don't always think about things the way they should before they say or do something — and it would only take just one of them to make a mistake like that to get me into all that trouble. So you have to decide if you can really keep it secret that I'm helping you with stuff like this."

By the time I was done, I could see that she was horrified by all that might (probably would!) happen if anyone found out what she wanted me to do. She was old enough to understand that as bad as things had been after her parents divorced, she and her sister and mother hadn't lost everything, or had to face the kinds of personal problems that I'd described. It was plain as it could be that she knew how serious what she'd asked was, and that she understood the consequences of failing to keep that particular secret.

I sat across from her, waiting patiently as she thought about everything I'd said. The longer she sat there thinking, the more sure I was that whatever answer I got from her was something I could count on — that it wouldn't be a quick, glib, off-the-cuff response.

So I was actually pleased when a good five minutes went by before she looked into my eyes as she seriously told me "I wouldn't tell anybody… not even Mom. Sometimes Gail tells me about stuff like this that she's having trouble with, so would it be okay if I told her some of what I learn with you? Not where I learned it, or anything, just what I know? And… and maybe tell her it's okay to talk to you about this stuff, too?"

That was what I'd wanted, and hoped, to hear — but I still let a few seconds go by as though I were thinking about her questions, before I answered "I think that might be okay, as long as you're as careful as you say."

Still serious, Emma nodded her head before informing me "I will be, I promise!"