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It had been five years since my wife died. I was stuck in a rut. It was as if my life had stalled the day Gina passed away. I was as emotionally healed as I would ever be, yet I lacked the will to go out and start anew. I worked, I came home. I slept, and then I headed back to work again the very next day. My life became a cycle. Rinse and repeat, ad infinitum.

Maybe that’s why I allowed Christie to get so close to me. I told myself I just needed the help, but had I thought it through, I would have realized it was more because I was sick of the silence. I was lonely, and just hearing her lilting laugh brightened my day.

My hands tremble now as recall how all of this began. It seemed so innocent at the time, but I can see now that no one is ever going believe that. I look at her lying next to me, so beautiful, and so serene in her repose. Surely, she doesn't consider what I've done to be so horrible. I will have to hold on to that feeling, and nurture it in her over the coming years. I owe her at least that, and perhaps very much more.

*

It was almost eight that evening when I heard the knock. It was a little late, but the sun doesn’t drop away until almost nine during the warm months, so I wasn’t completely shocked to see my neighbor’s daughter standing there when I opened the door.

“Hi, Mr. Butterfield,” she chirped in her lyrically sweet voice. I remember being instantly charmed by the nervous bounce in her step, and by the way she clasped her hands so tightly behind her back. She was full of energy and could barely contain herself, twisting on her slim hips in that wonderful dance of youth girls her age are so apt to do. Somehow, I doubt they even notice they’re doing it, but I assure you, the boys always do.

Christie was a beautiful girl. Her long, auburn hair hung down the center of her back in a cute French braid that must have been as practical for her as it was alluring to me. Her deep brown eyes were bright, and full of life as she gazed at me with a smile that lit up her face. Loose-fitting blue jeans, with flower patches sewn onto the thighs, covered her slim legs, and her pink blouse offered a delightful innocence by hiding the tender swell of her breasts under its light and billowy fit.

She was a girl at the most tender of ages, that sweet-sixteen, when she was becoming less a little girl and more a young woman with each passing day. Even then, I was taken aback. Women this close to the edge of ripeness usually seem overly child-like to me, but there was just something about her. Something that, despite her budding age, made her seem to be more a woman than a girl.

"Hi, Christie. What can I do for you?" I offered as her gaze met mine. Her brown eyes twinkled as a bashful smile appeared on her angelic face.

“Um, this is kind of embarrassing, but I need your help. Even with my mom working two jobs, things have gotten kind of tight at home. I know you've been alone since your wife passed away, so... I was thinking you might need some help around your place?"

I was silent for a heartbeat, trying to process her intent while her cheeks bunched up in an expectant smile. She was incredibly cute, and I did my best to repress a chuckle.

"What do you have in mind?"

Christie clearly sensed my good humor, and thus encouraged, her words spilled from her lips in a torrent of girlish excitement. "You know, like domestic stuff? I could clean your apartment for you, and do your laundry. I could even make you dinner at night so you'd have a hot meal when you came home. I do all that stuff at home already, so I'm sure you'd be happy with me."

I was surprised by her offer, but then I decided it wasn't much different than a boy offering to wash a car, or mow his neighbor's lawns. Young people tend to use the skills they already possess to make a few extra dollars. The real difference was that this kind of work would require her to be inside my place every day, especially if my dinner was included.

I doubted anyone her age would be willing to put that much effort into this kind of work, and I almost refused her out of hand. It was only the hopeful glint in her eyes that caused me to seriously consider it at all.

I sighed, trying to keep from crushing her high spirits with a condescending tone. "That's going to be a lot of work, Christie." I reasoned. "My apartment won't take much daily care, but just making dinner and straightening up will take time. How often do you plan on coming over?"

Christie nodded excitedly, obviously having fully considered the task. "I could be here for a couple hours after school, every day, Monday through Friday. You probably won't need me on the weekend. I would only ask for ten dollars a day. Please, Mr. Butterfield! I promise, you won't be sorry!"

"Ten dollars a day," I mused as the numbers added up in my head. "That's about two hundred a month, right? Wow. That works out to be a pretty big chunk of money."

"I know, Mr. Butterfield, but I promise I'll earn it. You won't be sorry." Christie pleaded with me, placing her hopes on me in a way I couldn't easily resist.

It was a lot of money for me to commit, but the more I thought about it, I realized that being here every day was a huge commitment for her as well. All things considered, the amount wasn't out of line for what she was offering to do.

It was a big decision, and Christie fidgeted uncomfortably as I thought it over. I honestly didn't think she could keep up her end for long, but even if she did, having her around every day appealed to me in a way I wasn't then ready to admit. Having made up my mind, I smiled at her and nodded my head. "Okay, Christie. It's a deal. When do you want to start?"

And that's how it all began.

*

The next few months passed innocently enough. Christie proved to be very dedicated to her duties and was a surprisingly good cook. This led to a few humorous conversations between us as she insisted I eat a healthier diet, and on her own, she began preparing my lunches for me.

Over those many weeks, I noticed she would not only do my laundry, but lay out my clothes for the next day. She suggested I grow a goatee, and encouraged subtle changes to the way I dressed and even to the cut of my hair. I began to rely on her more than I had on anyone since my wife passed away.

It wasn't until I was looking in the mirror one morning that I realized how much she had changed my life. She gave me something I sorely missed, and I found myself looking forward to coming home to her company, even more than I did the hot meals she prepared.

No, I was simply delighted to have her around. With her mother working nights, it wasn't long before she was having dinner with me, and staying into the evening to do her homework, or just to watch some TV. These nights lasted longer and longer, until she was spending some nights in my guest room.

Her mother was actually okay with all of this. The extra money she earned was a big help to them, and she even thanked me for being there when she couldn't be. She worried that Christie might get into trouble without someone around to look after her.

Well, mothers are always going to be protective. To me, Christie seemed to be a very mature and intelligent girl. It wasn't until months later that she brought up the subject of boys. By then, she and I had become quite comfortable around each other.

To say I felt attracted to her would be a gross understatement, but it wasn't sexual, per se'. Oh, I had noticed how beautiful she was. I mean, laws and society be damned, a healthy and happy sixteen-year-old girl will heat the blood of any man when she's around him enough.

I became enthralled by the subtle curves of her body, and the almost intoxicating grace with which she moved. I spent many hours enjoying the arch of her neck as she tipped her head, or the way her pajamas clung gently to her bottom.

While I couldn't quite make out the shape of her breasts, I could tell they were full and heavy. Knowing she didn't wear a bra under her pj's often had me sneaking a glimpse in hopes that her nipples might become hard enough to protrude through the flannel of her top. All that may have been so, but the thought of actually being sexually intimate with her hadn't truly entered my mind.

It was on just such a night when things began to change. Christie was dressed in her blue-striped, white flannel pajamas, and curled up on the other side of the couch.

She was unusually subdued that night. Not wanting to pry, I said nothing, but by the way she was fidgeting and biting her bottom lip, I could see that something was bothering her. It wasn't until almost ten before she suddenly sat up and crossed her legs. With her hands nestled into the nest created by her calves, she looked over at me with a timid, but equally determined look on her face.

"George, can I talk to you about something personal? I need some advice, and I don't know who else I can trust."

As we had done away with the formalities of our age difference long before, her using my given name didn't raise any alarms. Putting down my book, I looked over and saw a deep frustration and concern in her expressive eyes.

She sounded so serious, in fact, that my heart skipped a beat as I ran over the possibilities. "Sure, Christie," I responded cautiously. "You can ask me anything. What's the matter? You look worried."

Then, I almost gasped as the worst case tumbled through my mind. "Oh, my gosh, Christie! Please tell me you aren't pregnant!"

Christie's face blanched, and her eyes grew wide. "George! Oh, my God, no! I'm only sixteen! How could you even think that?"

"Oh, thank God," I replied with relief. "I'm sorry, really. It's just... Jesus, baby. You'll understand, someday."

Despite her irritation, Christie took a deep breath and seemed to relax.

"Well, I'm not pregnant. It's just the opposite," she finally said. "I've never had more than a kiss from a boy, so you don't need to worry about that happening anytime soon."

While I was relieved, I could see how hard this was for her to talk about. Her whole body seemed to droop, and she was wringing her hands in her lap. I'd already blown my first chance to be comforting, and like most men, I couldn't help doing it again. "Are you having feelings for other girls?"

"What? No! Oh, my God, George! Just stop, will you? You're not helping! Can you please just listen for a minute? I need advice, and I can't ask my mom about something like this."

No one on earth can cast a withering glare like a teenage girl, and I almost felt her annoyance burning a hole right through me. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." I quickly responded. "You just scared me a little. So, what's the problem?

"Really? You're scared I might be a lesbian? Would that really bother you?"

"What? No! That's up to you, I was talking about being pregnant."

"Oh, that, yeah. Well, you don't need to worry about that. I've never had sex. God, I've never even seen a guy's... Ugh! You know!"

Christie looked devastated, and I could see she was really struggling with all of this. Having twice blown my chance to be tactful, I then earned my man-card by doing it yet again.

"I assume you're telling me you are... feeling a need to see one, then? Is it a penis in general you're thinking about, or is there a specific boy connected to the one you're interested in?"

"George! Eww! Of course, I'm talking about a boy! This is totally not going the way I'd hoped! I feel like such an idiot!"

Her frustration was boiling over by then, and I couldn't help but laugh.

Fortunately. Christie was much more annoyed with me than hurt, and I tried my best to regain my composure. "I'm sorry, Christie, really. I shouldn't be laughing. May I ask who the lucky guy is?"

The frown she wore slowly slipped away and then she shook her head. "No, I'm not ready to say, yet. The thing is, I think he wants to have sex with me, I'm just not sure I'm ready for that. I mean, I want to, sure, but I haven't even really been held by a guy yet."

The previous air of humor evaporated as the seriousness of her concerns became apparent. Clearing my voice, I began again, this time with as mature a tone as I could manage.

"My first thought is, I think waiting would be your best choice. Sex is very serious, and rushing into it will only get you hurt. Other than that, I'm probably not the person you should be getting advice from. Can't you talk to your friends, or your mother about this?"

Christie just shook her head. "No. My mom would totally freak, and if I told my friends, it would be all over Facebook by the end of the week. I need a man's advice, and my father..." Her brown eyes began to tear up, and I remembered too late that her dad had left when she was very young. The realization that she truly had no one else to ask made my heart ache for her.

I was trapped, and I took a deep breath, knowing there was no way I could get out of answering her questions. "Okay, I get it. How can I help?"

Christie wiped the tears from her eyes, and then that hopeful smile once again lit up her face. "Do you think I'm pretty enough? I mean, I think he likes me, and I've tried everything to get his attention, but it's like he just won't talk to me the way I want him to."

Oh, God. How many times have I heard of a young woman not realizing how beautiful she was? Seeing her doubt herself like this broke my heart, and I reached out and took her hand in mine. "Oh, baby. You are stunningly beautiful. Never doubt that. If this boy doesn't see it, he's probably gay." Smiling at her, I squeezed her hand. To my relief, she smiled back.

"Thank you, George. Hearing you say that means a lot to me. I just wish I knew what to do. I'm so frustrated. Part of me would love to be with him now, not for sex, but just to know what it felt like to be held all night."

Knowing boys her age, I knew where something like that would probably lead. "That wouldn't be a good idea, sweetie." I told her softly. "Not unless it was with someone you trusted to respect you."

"Yeah, I know, but what if it was with someone I could trust? I mean, it would be okay then, right?"

Christie's excitement was gaining strength again, and I felt like I was walking into a trap as I cautiously answered. "I suppose, it might... if you were sure."

"Well, what if it was with you?"

I thought I'd been as shocked as I could be at the thought of her being pregnant, but this idea just floored me. I was speechless for a moment, but I finally choked out, "No, Christie, I don't think so. That's a really bad idea."

Showing her usual stubborn streak, Christie cast aside my protest. "Why? I'm only talking about sleeping, okay? I just want to know what it feels like to have a man next to me."

"Good lord, Christie." I said in exasperation, "I care for you, and I wish I could, but we can't. I could get into a world of trouble."

"Why? I'm mean, it's not like we're going to do anything, right? I'm not going to be naked, or anything, and if you sleep in the nude, it won't bother me."

"In the nude? Oh, hell no. I'd wear some sweat pants or something. You know, your mother would shit if she found out we were even talking about this."

"I know, but I won't tell. I swear! I just want to know what it's like. Please? Just this once, okay?"

I don't know what came over me. I'd like to think I simply gave in because of how desperate she seemed, but deep down, I knew I couldn't pass up the chance to have her that close to me. With a defeated nod. I agreed. "Fine, but just this one time, and you have to promise me, you'll never tell anyone about this."

Christie's smile beamed brightly, and she jumped up from the couch. "That's great! Thank you, George. You are the best! I'm going to go get ready for bed!"

I shook my head and watched hopelessly as she bounded out of the room. "Fuck, what the hell was I thinking?"

*

I was scared shitless by the time I made it to my bedroom. While it was true that in many states, sixteen is the legal age of consent, it wasn't in California. Here, a girl needed to be eighteen to agree to sex, or even to be seen nude by an adult.

Hell, she could strip naked and paint herself with butter, and I'd still go to jail if I so much as got a hard on! Now, I was about to slip into bed with a precocious girl who was showing a decidedly dangerous disregard for the law.

Worse still, my cock was stiffening with each step, proving that it didn't give a damn either! 'Just go to sleep, and it will be all over in the morning,' I told myself as I climbed into bed with her.

Christie was curled up on the other side, with the covers pulled up tightly around her. Now, I was the one who was trembling with nerves, and I stayed as close to my edge as possible before flicking off the light.

"Goodnight, George," she said pleasantly. "I just know it's going to be wonderful waking up next to you."

"Night, Christie. Try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Sure." she responded with a sigh.

I lay there for a moment, thinking that everything might work out when I heard her say my name.

"George? Aren't you going to hold me?"

A new rush of fear swept through me and my eyes popped open. "What? I thought you only wanted to sleep?"

"Well, yeah, but I wanted to be held. That was the whole point, remember?"

A heady mix of dread and desire boiled through me. Everything I'd ever learned, and everything I thought about myself as a man, slowly bent and cracked under the subtle pressure of my desire to touch this nymph-like girl.

Slowly, wordlessly, I rolled over and spooned her hips against me. From my thighs to my chest, the incredible softness of her body pressed against mine and I slipped my arm around her, resting my hand just under her breasts.

I was hard, and I was sure she could feel my erection nestled lightly in the soft cleft of her bum. I felt a strong urge to grind against her, but somehow, I remained still. My body may have been relaxed, but my senses were sharp, and tuned into every movement and sound she made. Her scent was seeping into my mind, marking it indelibly into my memory.

We lay there quietly for a short while, and I began to think just perhaps things had gone as far as they would. Then Christie took my hand from her belly and placed it on her breast.

A fresh surge of adrenaline shot into my bloodstream as my fingers spread over her boob, and I couldn't help but squeeze softly as its pliant shape filled my hand. I could feel her nipple harden, raking under my palm through the thin flannel of her top.

As I fondled her, Christie signed, and a soft moan escaped her lips, and she murmured so quietly I could barely hear her. "Mmm, that feels nice, George."

I might have ignored it, but when her bottom nuzzled harder against my throbbing cock, I was pushed to the limits of my self-control.

"Oh, shit, Christie, no. I can't do this!" I hissed in frustration. Pulling my hand away from her body, I rolled onto my back.

I heard her gasp and then she rolled over to face me. Her voice trembled in the dark. "I... I'm sorry, George. I, I got carried away, really... I just wanted to know what it felt like."

'Oh, my God. What am I gonna do with her?'

When I flicked on the light. Christie was sitting up and clutching the sheet to her breast. She looked horrified and ashamed, feelings that I knew should be mine instead of hers.

"Christie, please. It isn't you, it's me. You are so beautiful, and holding you like that, it just makes me want things I shouldn't want. That's why this wasn't a good idea."

She seemed about to cry, but her voice pitched up as she snuffled hopefully. "So, you aren't mad at me?"

"No, sweetie. I'm not angry. I know you're curious. It's just that I'm a man, and we have certain reactions to being so close to a woman as pretty as you." I was trying to ease her guilt, and Christie smiled warmly and visibly relaxed.

"You mean, you were attracted to me, like sexually? That's so sweet of you to say, and you don't need to worry. I wasn't offended by what you were doing. I really kind of liked it."

The entire discussion was surreal, and I shook my head, determined to get control of the situation again.

"Like I said, it's not you. It's me. I can't just lay here feeling, well, what I'm feeling. I'm sorry, Christie, but you should go home, and back to your own bed." It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to say, but I felt resolved, and I mentally patted myself on the back for forcing myself to do the right thing.

I was sure she would be upset, but she just stared at me for a time. I could see that she was thinking hard about what I said. All I could do was hope she would see that I was right, or at least wouldn't feel too rejected.

Christie was blushing brightly and refused to meet my gaze. Her eyes were fixated on her hands as she tucked them into her lap. "I know," she finally said. "I wasn't being fair to you, but I could feel how hard you were. It excited me. I mean, just the thought that you wanted me like that. That was mean of me, I guess."

Her emotions were running like wild horses, turning this way and that, and I felt responsible for letting the situation get so far out of hand, "No," I told her. "It wasn't mean. If you were older, if the time was different, I'd have loved to sleep with you, like you wanted. It's just, I can't trust myself."

"Thank you, George, but I know you wouldn't take advantage of me." She paused for a moment, but I could see she had more to say. When she finally did, she shocked me beyond anything else she'd said that night,

"If having me this close really does that to you, I was thinking... what if you masturbated before we slept? Would that calm you down? Cause... If it would, I'd really like to watch. I've never seen a man orgasm. If I did, maybe I would know what to expect, and what to do when I do decide to have sex."

I can't even begin to describe how that made feel, and my self-control began slipping away. My mouth went dry, and I swallowed hard as her eyes rose to mine. I could tell how excited the idea made her. The huskiness in her voice, the way her gaze darted to my still-hard cock, and even the heavy cadence of her breath, all of it indicating she was highly aroused.

'This is it,' I thought, 'This is the moment I could have her. It wouldn't take much to push her past her limits now.' Suddenly, visions of peeling her out of her clothes and feasting on her virginal flesh ran rampant through my mind. Thoughts of plunging my cock into her pussy, and taking her innocence for my own, thundered in my head. She was that vulnerable, and I had no doubt I could use her trust in me anyway I wanted.

The thing was, even in that state of mind, I just couldn't do that to her. Yes, it was noble, but nobility has a cost. In my mind, the idea of giving her what she wanted seemed a fair exchange for leaving her virginity intact.

"Do you really want to watch?" I asked as I fingered my waistband.

Christie sat up and leaned closer. "Yes, I do."

I couldn't believe this was really happening, but I slid my sweats down just far enough that my fully erect cock came into view. Once freed, it rose from my body, pulsing hard from a night's worth of anticipation. Taking it my hand, I stroked it slowly as Christie's breath came deep.

"Would you mind taking your pants all the way off, please," she whispered. "I'd like to see all of you, and, well, your thighs are really sexy."

God, the things she said. She made me feel more like a man than any woman ever had, and I kicked off my sweats without complaint. Not knowing what else to do, I closed my eyes and began running my hand up and down my already throbbing shaft.

I went slow at first. I was excited enough that I knew I could come in seconds, but my male ego wouldn't let me end it so quickly. I imagined her sitting next to me, as she was, but in my mind, she was nude as well, and I wondered if her pussy was trimmed or even shaved.

Images of kissing her, and laying over her young body while I moved inside her ruled my thoughts. It wasn't until she spoke that I even looked in her direction.

"It's bigger than I'd thought it would be," she mused. Her gaze wandered over my entire body, as if she couldn't decide what was more important to see.

I watched in fascination as she fingered the button between her breasts, and my stomach dropped when she popped it open. "What are you doing?" I asked as her fingers continued their journey down the line of buttons.

"I figured you've already felt them, so letting you see them shouldn't be a big deal. I want you to look at me, George. I want to know if you like them."

I squeezed my shaft hard as her fingers freed the last button. My heart was racing, and my breath was deep as I watched her slowly open her top and slide it off her shoulders. Her breasts were firm and large enough to fill my hand. Her pink nipples were small, but very hard and upturned. I felt my cock pulse, and I squeezed it harder to keep myself from shooting all over my stomach.

"Damn, they are perfect," I told her.

Christie just smiled back at me. "Keep going," she said as tweaked her buds between her fingers. "I want to see you come."

Resisting now was as futile as it was hopeless, and I began jerking on my cock harder as I watched her play with her boobs. Precum was leaking, and my cock grew shiny and slick as I rubbed my oil over the length of my shaft. The sight of it had Christie biting and wetting her lips, and I was sure she was thinking about taking it into her mouth.

He skin was pale and flawless, and her breasts heaved with each breath she took. I watched intently as she pinched and pulled on her nipples, stimulating her buds as she watched me my hand move up and down my shaft.

Soon, the only sounds in the room were her soft mewls and the wet, fapping sounds of my hand as it pulled my skin over the turgid head of my cock. I was losing control and the quicker I moved my hand, the faster as my orgasm approached

"Are you about to come?" she asked as my body began to grow taut.

I nodded my head and swallowed hard. "Yes, I'm really close now."

"Let it shoot out, okay?" she breathlessly asked. "Don't put your hand it the way. I want to see it come out." Her voice thick with arousal now, and I half expected her to slip her hand into her pajamas, but she just leaned back on her arms, jutting her breasts up as if she were offering to let me come all over her bare and heaving chest.

Maybe she really was hoping I would shoot it on her belly, but I couldn't risk getting any of my live seed on her. When the heat in my glans grew, I groaned and shot my load up in hot strings that splashed over my chest. Several pulses of cum squirted out as I came, and it pooled brightly on my skin, spattering from my pelvis to my abdomen. I growled in heated pleasure, jerking hard until I was completely spent.

Moments passed as I regained my breath and Christie leaned in so closely I was sure she could smell the scent of my cum. "Wow. that was really hot, and there is so much of it," she wistfully said as my cum slowly ran over my skin. "I better get you a towel."

Feeling exhausted from my orgasm, I could only watch as she popped out of bed, still nude from the waist up. Moments later, she returned with a damp facecloth. "I'd love clean you up, but I guess I promised not to touch. I really enjoyed that, George."

I was speechless as I took the towel. Then, she kissed me on the cheek. "I'm going to go back to my room now and let you sleep. Thanks George. You can trust me. I'm not going to tell anyone about this."

Then, with her top clutched in her hand, she slipped out of my room.

I felt a mix of relief and regret as she closed the door behind her. She'd been so intent on sleeping with me that I was shocked she'd suddenly decided to leave. Then, I realized that she was so aroused, she probably needed some relief as well. The idea of her fingering herself to orgasm left my cock stirring, and I slowly brought myself off again as I imagined how she must look in the throes of ecstasy.

*

Christie was gone when I woke. I was filled with guilt, and terrified that she might have second thoughts about what I had done. I was almost shaking in fear as I went into my kitchen, but then I saw her note sitting next to a sliced grapefruit and a piece of buttered toast.

'Good morning, George. Sorry I had to leave, but mom is coming home, and I want to make her breakfast. There is a pot of coffee on to go with your grapefruit. Please eat your breakfast before you go to work. Oh, and your lunch is in the fridge.

I hope you aren't mad at me. You gave me a wonderful gift last night, and I'll always love you for it. See you tonight!

Christie.'

I wasn't sure what to expect as the next few days passed. Would she become distant as she realized how inappropriate what we did was, or would she only want more? Much to my relief, that night didn't seem to have either effect on her.

Oh, maybe her smile became a bit more playful, and I suppose that sharing our secret did bring us closer together. Her occasional touch on my arm may have lingered a little longer than before, but otherwise, things went on pretty much as they always had.

Those days became weeks, and the weeks turned to months, I became convinced she had simply succumbed to a one-time desire. Eventually, my guilt faded, and I let the memory find a quiet corner of my mind. There it remained, hidden away as a cherished fantasy, only to be relived in the quiet solitude of my bed.

So it was that when the night before her seventeenth birthday arrived, I had no reason to believe anything more would happen between us. Christie has a love of horror films, and we stayed up late, huddled together in front of the set, watching fiends of myth and legend chase foolish teens with wicked intent. I have to admit, hearing her squeal in fear, and jump into my arms each time something scary happened, filled me with a delightful mix of protectiveness and arousal.

As the clock struck twelve, I put a candle in a piece of the cake, and brought it to her, poorly singing the words to 'Happy Birthday To You'.

Christie laughed and rose from the couch, meeting me halfway across the room. "George! That is so sweet of you!" She was beaming with delight as she accepted the dish.

"Make a wish before you blow it out," I encouraged, and with a smile, she closed her eyes.

Pursing her lips, she extinguished the tiny flame and then ran her finger through the icing before sucking it clean. "Mmm, that's sweet. Thank you, George. You always seem to find a way to make me happy."

Hearing her say that warmed my cheeks, and I'm sure I fidgeted awkwardly as she took a bite of the cake. "So, are you going to tell me what you wished for?" I asked.

Christie's eyes flashed brightly, and she nodded her head. "Yeah. I'll tell you. Do you remember that boy I was telling you about? The one I thought liked me?"

I felt a sudden pang of jealousy, but I squelched it immediately. "Yes, I do. Whatever happened with him, anyway?"

Setting down the plate, Christie looked at me and bit at her bottom lip. "I think he's too shy to make the first move. I've decided I need to let him know how I feel."

There was a new, sultry look in her eyes, and I realized how much she'd grown in the ten months or so since we'd become friends. She had blossomed into a gorgeous young woman, and had gained a confidence that was well beyond her tender age. If ever there was a young woman ready to take control of her life, it was her.

"I think that's a good idea," I told her, "You've grown into a beautiful young woman, and I'm really proud of you."

"I'm glad you feel that way," she whispered, and then she slipped her arms around my neck and brought her mouth to mine...

Her lips were warm and soft, and what started as a gentle, exploring kiss quickly turned passionate and deep. As if by instinct, our tongues met, and I didn't resist the urge to hold her close to my body. Months of pretending nothing had happened between us fueled the moment, and by the time we parted, we both knew this was only the beginning.

"What about that boy?" I asked as she rested her head on my chest.

"Oh, George. There never was another boy. It was you. I was talking about you the whole time. You are an incredibly kind man, and so very handsome. So many of my friends gave themselves to guys who didn't care, and didn't value what they were given. I know you will, and I want you to be my first."

I could only sigh as I kissed her forehead. We were past the point of no return, but I had to ask, one last time. "Are you sure, Christie? You are still a minor, under the law. You know what that means, right?"

Christie looked up at me with her big, deep brown eyes. "Yeah. I'm jailbait to you. No matter what I want, you could go to prison if anyone found out. I know it's dangerous for you, but I don't want to wait another year. Whatever happens between us tonight, or tomorrow, I promise no one but us will ever know. I trust you to be gentle with me. Now, I'm asking you to return that trust to me."

What could I say? It was foolish, and wrong, but I could no longer find the will to say no. "I do trust you," I told her as I caressed her cheek.

Christie's eyes closed as she nuzzled into my palm, and then a distinct tremble passed over her body. I sensed that in telling me how she felt, she had pushed herself to the edge of herself control. Now, she was all but overwhelmed by her own desires. It was wonderful to see her so consumed, and in that moment, I wanted her as badly as she wanted me.

When we kissed again, it was urgent and hungry. Somewhere, deep inside us, a fuse had been lit, and it burned toward an inevitable explosion that threatened to consume us in its heat. While there is a time for such raw need, I didn't want her first time to be lost in a flickering moment of carnal lust. She deserved so much more than that. With a last, lingering flick of my tongue over her bottom lip, I held her in my arms and stroked her hair.

"I want you badly, Christie, but we need to slow down a little. Otherwise I'm going to end up taking you right here on the floor. Go to my room and run a bath. I'll join you in a minute."

Christie buried her head in my, chest, but I felt her nod. "That sounds wonderful. Please hurry, okay?"

"All right, baby. I won't be long." It was hard to let her go, and I kept her hand in mine until our fingers slipped apart as she walked away. Only after she had disappeared down the hall did I dare to even take a breath. Then I swallowed hard. Taking her virginity was a huge responsibility, and if I was going to do it, I knew I had to make it something she'd never regret.

*

Once I heard the water running, I lit a few candles around the bed, allowing their flickering light to fill the room. Next, I turned on some soft music, just to set the mood. This created an ambience I knew she would love. That accomplished, I sighed in regret as I placed a couple of condoms on my nightstand. I really hated having to use them, but her protection was paramount, and even as far gone as I was, I wasn't going to risk getting her pregnant.

Seeing those condoms, and holding them in my hand, really brought home what we were going to do. I had a sexy, seventeen-year-old girl taking a bath in my ensuite, waiting for me to join her. God, it was a heady rush, but the fact that I cared so deeply for her made it even more incredible.

I couldn't deny I wanted her. I wanted her so badly that I was willing to risk my entire life, and my heart was pounding in my chest as I moved toward the bathroom door. It was unlocked and ajar when I knocked, so even the soft pressure of my knuckles on the wood caused it to swing open enough to see Christie reclined in the tub.

Her hands were below the edge, presumably between her thighs, when I came in, but she pulled them away when she saw me.

"Hi, George," she whispered and sucked in her bottom lip as her hands moved up to cover her breasts. It was such a naturally bashful act that I wasn't sure if she was more embarrassed at being caught masturbating or simply being seen in the nude.

"Don't cover up," I asked as I knelt next to the tub. "You're far too beautiful, baby-girl. Please don't hide yourself from me."

Slowly, she forced her hands away from her breasts, leaving them covered with suds.

Taking a washcloth, I held her hand and began lightly scrubbing from her wrist up her arm. "Tell me the truth, Christie," I whispered. "Were you touching yourself, when I came in?"

Christie's cheeks reddened and she slipped slightly deeper into the tub. "Oh, God. You saw that? I'm sorry, I... It just feels so good."

'Damn, she's cute!' I thought, and I couldn't resist kissing the back of her hand. "Don't be sorry. This is about feeling good, and about us sharing with each other. Would you mind doing it again? You've seen me come. Now, I'd like to watch you."

Christie's eyes got wide, and a playful smile grew on her face. "Oh, my gosh, George, really? You want to see me do that?" She seemed like she wanted to hide under the water as she said it, but her hands were already sliding down her belly as a told her I did.

"Gosh, I don't think I can come with you watching, but I guess, I can try."

Christie's eyes turned to slits as her fingers moved over her mound. She was using both hands under the water, so I couldn't see that clearly, but I could tell when she began rubbing her clit. Soon, her body was reacting to her touch. I watched in rapt silence as her head lolled back, and then her knees drew apart, allowing her more room to play her fingers through her sex.

Her breasts were caught between her arms, forcing them together, and causing her hardened nipples to point toward the ceiling. It was a beautiful sight, and wetting the washcloth again, I began gently rubbing the cloth over her breast and down, over her belly.

"That's it, baby-girl," I cooed as caressed her with the cloth. "You look so sexy, doing that. It makes me want you so bad. Come for me, baby-girl. It's okay, I want you to come for me."

I watched as her mind focused intently on the sensations running through her body. Her mouth opened slightly, and her face became a blank canvas as her orgasm began to gather. Dropping the cloth, I cupped her bare breast in my hand and rolled her distended nipple between my fingers.

She was rubbing faster by then and her body began to tremble and arch. Then, a high-pitched moan started in her throat, growing stronger as she began to come. "Unnh, yeah. I'm gonna... Oh, my God!!"

Christie froze as her words failed, and then a powerful wave rippled up her body. It washed over her, causing her to jerk hard in the tub. In that moment, her breath caught in her throat and she lifted her hips, rolling them over her fingers as she hit her peak. It was an amazing site, and the water splashed over the side as her strength failed, and she fell back into the tub.

I was fully aroused, and I stood to remove my shirt. Christie just lay in the tub, watching me as each button slipped through its eye. When I dropped it to the floor, she just smiled, and let her gaze move down toward my pants. It became a game, and I could sense her anticipation as I unbuckled my belt. Then followed the long, shifting tone of my zipper coming down.

"Go slow..." she whispered as I began to lower my pants. Her eyes were fixated on that thin line of hair that ran down from my stomach, pointing toward the hidden patch of fur under my boxers. When my shorts finally fell away, my cock bounced up, ready, and hungry for her.

I recognized the look in her eyes. It was the same one she had when she watched me stroke myself months before. It was as if she had been fantasizing about it ever since, and she sat up and motioned for me to join her in the tub. Once I stepped into the warm water, she picked up the washcloth, and began washing my legs.

"I've been wanting to touch you for so long, George. Your legs are so strong, and your cock... Good gosh, I can't wait to feel this inside me." By then, she was up on her knees, with her mouth just inches from my throbbing erection.

"It may hurt. Are you sure you're ready for that?" My teeth were clenched, and my words sounded husky and desperate, but Christie just nodded.

"Yeah, I know. I'm scared, but I'm sure I'll love it." She brought the washcloth to my balls as she spoke, and I had to force myself to relax as she carefully rubbed the soft and wet material offer my glans.

Christie took her time, gently washing me, and inspecting every inch of my masculinity. "You have no idea how much I wanted to touch you that night. You feel amazing in my hand. It's like it's alive. Like a separate thing from you."

I trembled when her hand closed around my shaft, and she stroked it hard a few times. Then she moved closer and licked her lips. "Am I supposed to suck it now?"

'Fuck me! What a question!' If she only knew how tempted I was to grab her head and shove it down her throat! Instead, I steadied myself and just nodded. "If you want. Most guys love having it sucked."

"Okay, maybe for just a minute. Tell me if you are going to come, all right?" Then, with the base of my cock trapped in the crook between the thumbs and forefingers of each hand, she took me into her mouth.

"Oh, yes..." I moaned as she started sucking me. She only had the head, and maybe an inch of my shaft in her mouth, but she sucked hard, and her tongue rubbed wonderfully under my head. Her hands caressed my pelvis as she bobbed, driving me mad with desire. Within seconds, I could feel my knees begin to tremble.

Christie seemed to enjoy the way I felt in her mouth, and she bobbed quickly, keeping me shallow over her tongue. Her hands felt divine on my skin and I knew I wouldn't be able to last. I was about to tell her to stop when she pulled away.

"Something's coming out. See?" she said as she squeezed me hard. When she did, a single, clear drop appeared.

Oh... Yeah, its precum," I gasped. "It's... Like a lubricant, I guess. It happens when a guy gets close. I guess I should have told you."

Christie licked off the drop and continued to stroke me. "Mm. It's kind of sweet, I just thought you were about to come."

God, she was killing me. "I'm really close now. if you keep doing that, I'm going to comeTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.