He told her he believed she'd have to lie down on the couch so that "the strain would be relieved from her leg muscles". It was such a shoddy pretense he was almost ashamed to utter it. But to his surprise and delight, she immediately complied.
She flopped onto her back and looked up at him. "Like this?" she asked, flouncing onto her left side. "Or like this?" she continued, twisting onto her right side.
During all the movements, he was rewarded with some fantastic but brief glimpses underneath her skirt. He saw the panties she wore – yellow with white lace – several times. And once he was sure that he spotted an unruly pubic hair sticking out from the leg band.
He put his hands on her and positioned her. "Like this," he said, "right about there." He had her flat on her back with her knees raised about ten inches off the couch. Something about the careless way she held them in the air was incredibly stimulating to him.
Jesus, he thought to himself, this kid's either the canniest little tease to come down the pike or else she's the most innocent sexpot in the entire braces and pigtails division.
By now Tim was becoming excited. He couldn't take much more of her maddeningly innocent posturing. And, to make matters worse, his excitement was fast becoming quite visible, right below the long tail of his nightshirt. His penis was stiffening and threatening to poke out from underneath at any moment. He ran his hand all the way up to her leg band and looked down to see his fingers shaking. It wasn't from fear. He was dying to touch her. It was from pure nervous energy that kept piling up because he had to continually restrain himself.
She flinched and giggled. Giggled. He couldn't believe it. "What's wrong?" he asked incredulously. "I thought you were hurting."
That's when she blew his mind. She calmly crossed one over the other, giving him a clear view all the way to her navel, and folded both arms back under her head like a pillow. The expression on her face was one of amusement, almost of derision.
"Wow, Tim," she exclaimed, "I just can't help laughing at us, that's all. I can tell you're wanting to feel me up so bad you're about to piss your pants. And I'm getting antsy to have you put your hands all over me and give me a good rubbing up. But here I am playing like I've got a sore ankle and you're pretending you know how to fix it. Which one of us is nuttier, anyway?"
Tim sat down on the floor heavily, as though he'd been pushed. The complete surprise with which her words took him was total. And the maturity and candor which she exhibited in uttering them was unprecented. He'd never known fourteen-year-old girls had such sophistication. And the change had been so rapid with Claire. It was almost as though some worldly, calculating twenty-five year old was talking through the mouth of an angelic, sweet-faced child barely into her teens. Also, he realized he had been taken. He had been fooled by her more than he had fooled her. His ego raised its ugly head.
Finally he could speak. He wasted no time, but got to point. He felt like he was bargaining for a slut in a Tijuana whore house, but he did it just the same. "Let me get this straight," he said. "You want your little cunt fucked and you want me to strip you naked and suck your titties and everything, right?" he asked.
"Well," she demurred, "everything except the fucking part. I'm still a virgin, you know. I'm not lying. I want to be sure and keep my cherry. My mom gives me an examination twice a year and if I ever show up with my cherry busted, it's my ass. But outside of that, you can do anything you want to."
"I've never had a guy do much to me and I want to get in on the action. I've let a few boys my age feel me up in theaters, but that's no good. They're afraid to do very much there. So I want to see what it's like to have a guy as old as you do stuff to me. I guess I talk like I know more than I do. You know what I mean? I know all about stuff from hearing my older girl friends talk about it. I've just never actually had any of it done to me yet and I'm tired of finger-fucking myself every night in bed while I think about some guy getting in my panties and fooling with me. You have to start sometime, don't you?"
Tim looked at her with increasing awe, but also with increasing joy. He was actually going to get to make love to this lovely young girl. The only provision was that he not rupture her maidenhead. And there were many ways around that, he thought to himself. Many delightful ways. He rose up to his feet and looked down at her. She still lay on her back, with one foot tossed nonchalantly over her knee, her panties clearly visible underneath her skirt. She was staring up at him with a blank, innocent little smile.
"Yeah, honey, you sure as hell do have to start somewhere. And for you, why not let it be right here?" he asked. Her only response was another giggle.
Very slowly, with deliberate ease, he removed her other shoe and sock. He reached under her skirt, this time all the way to the long-desired panties, and caressed the silky fabric indulgently. His hands trembled. The sight of such a rich bounty of beautiful young flesh at his disposal was too much for his pent-up desires. He loosened the top of her skirt and took it off, first slowly, but then, realizing the new power that was his, he jerked it off more quickly. The surfaces of her lovely limbs looked smooth as powder.
Then he moved upward. He raised the bottom of her shirt and fondled the softness of her flat young stomach. He could see the beginnings of her breasts now. He knew that all he had to do in order to view their complete, exciting nakedness was to unbutton the few buttons down the front of her shirt and open the garment wide. His fingers dashed up the front, unbuttoning as they went. When his hand reached her collar, the shirt fell open under its own weight. When he saw the perfect symmetry of her dove-soft adolescent breasts, his breath caught in his throat and he could hardly wait to have his fingertips on them. He jerked the shirt to the side and rolled her half onto her side and grabbed it off her body. He flung it onto the floor and looked back on her nearly naked form.
"If that ain't a sweet pair of titties, I don't know what is!" he exclaimed. "I bet all the boys in your school would like to get their hands on those. It's a damn sin to make a girl like you bind titties like that up in a fucking brassiere."
"Thank you," she replied.
He had almost forgotten she could talk. She still lay with the same serene expression on her face. She wasn't trying to avoid watching what was happening to her either. She appeared to love seeing him put his hands on her. When he finally lowered his hands to the succulent skin of her breasts, she sighed and looked closely at his fingers as they began kneading the resilient flesh.
"You still have too many clothes on," he told her. He hooked a finger in her panties and slid them down one side of her hips, then turned her onto the other side. He was able then to skin them all the way off her legs. He threw them on a chair and stared at the coal black curls in her pelvic junction. They were not as abundant as they would be later in life, he reflected, but what her pubic hair lacked in quality, it made up in the graceful fragility of its form. The outer curls seemed to make a delicate design against the paleness of her white skin. In the center of the mass of curly hairs was a lovely long hillock of flesh that drew Tim's eyes like a magnet. He was above her, looking down on her nakedness, and he could see everything he wanted to look at. She lay there, knowing he was gazing at her bare body with lust in his eyes, and let him look all he wanted to.
He touched her firm, slim stomach, then the edge of her small forest of hairs. She smiled up at him and brazenly moved her pelvis in a slow, undulating circle under his gaze. He put his hand into the depths of the hair and touched the fleshy hillock.
"You like it when somebody touches you there?" he asked.
"I like it when you do," she replied.