24 comments/ 50059 views/ 37 favorites A Little Love By: Pussyrider When you leave school in Britain everyone tells you how important it is to go to university and get a degree. What they don't tell you is that these days just about every school leaver with half a brain cell is doing the same thing. As a result, unless you study at one of the great institutions, you qualify in some very specialised field, or you're an academic superstar, when you graduate you find yourself competing against thousands of other university leavers for a limited number of really worthwhile, well-paid jobs. With my mediocre general arts degree from a minor university, I had no chance. Of course, I could have gone back to my home town, lived with my parents and probably wangled a decent position with the large company my dad works for. But I wanted to settle in 'swinging London', and live the good life. That was why, for the first year after my graduation, I drifted into a couple of dead end office jobs, and did a bit of temping. None of the jobs paid much, but it was enough to get a tiny bedsit flat above a Chinese takeaway joint in a grubby suburb on the London-Essex border, and a season ticket on the tube. The flat was a bit of a dump, but I felt comfortable there, and some powerful air fresheners and my stereo unit masked the smell of fried rice and the sound of comings and goings below -- most of the time. It was through one of the assignments I got from my temp agency that I finally found a job I actually liked: an admin post in the Barbican University. It wasn't really graduate level work, but universities are snobbish about that sort of thing, they more or less demand a degree before they'll let you clean their toilets. More importantly, I got a half-decent salary and the work was actually interesting. It was mostly maintaining student records, but there were also elements of personnel work, a bit of financial accounting and so on. I was in a team of six, and my supervisor, Cora, was a real sweetheart in her mid-50s, the type who likes to mother her young charges. On my first day she introduced me to four of my colleagues, all females who seemed nice enough, and added "Zoë's off delivering mail at the moment, you'll meet her shortly." I settled down at my new desk to study the staff manual. After a few minutes I heard a female voice say, "Hi, you must be Adam, yeah?" I glanced up -- to see nobody standing by my desk. Then a throat was cleared, and my eyes swivelled downwards -- to see the smallest woman I'd ever met. She grinned up at me, held out a pudgy hand to be shaken, and said in a chirpy Cockney accent, "I'm Zöe. Cora obviously didn't tell you about me." She was a dwarf, less than four feet tall. It took me a moment to recover from my surprise and, embarrassed, I reached down and shook her hand. She winked at me, and added, "It's all right, you'll get used to me." Then she strolled to the desk opposite mine, pulled out a small set of kitchen steps, and climbed up onto her chair. As we sat quite close together, I got to know Zöe well over the next few days. She gave the lie to my idea about universities and degrees, having taken her job straight from school at 16. She was 20 when I met her, three years younger than me. I had thought that people who were subject to dwarfism generally had distorted faces, but that certainly wasn't true in Zöe's case. She had a small face, of course, but a pretty one, with cornflower blue eyes, a snubby nose and pouting lips, all framed by shoulder length copper red hair. She had a sparky personality, joining in with the banter that flew around the room; nevertheless, my colleagues seemed quite protective towards her. We got on well, and after a few days, as we were on the same lunch rota, we tended to go together to the university refectory for our meal. Everyone in the place seemed to know Zöe, and she was very popular. The end of my second week in the office was our monthly pay day, and I found that the team usually went to a nearby pub together after work. Zöe and I got there a few minutes before the others. It was quite early in the evening, and the place was quiet. As we entered, the barman, a Jamaican complete with modest dreadlocks and Bob Marley stubble, turned and called out, "Hello short stuff. You want your usual?" I was briefly surprised at what I took to be an offensive remark, but Zöe grinned and replied, "Hi long shanks, this is my new friend, Adam." Clearly these were the usual greetings between the two. A couple of the regulars greeted Zöe amiably too and, having collected our drinks, we sat next two each other on a velveteen bench in an alcove by the pub window. Zöe was drinking a mix of fresh orange and lemonade, a St Clements. She explained, "I don't often drink alcohol. With my size, one drink and I'm anybody's. Ooh, I probably shouldn't be telling you that, should I?" She giggled into her glass as I felt my face turn red. At that point the others walked in, and within minutes all six of us were squeezed onto the two benches either side of our table, Zöe and I pressed against each other by the lack of space. After a couple of hours, one of the other girls, Marcia, said, "You're out late tonight, Zo -- for you." Zöe replied, "Yeah, I can't normally stomach too much of this stuff," indicating her glass, "but I'm enjoying myself." Marcia grinned and said, "Yeah, I can see that," her eyes flicking momentarily in my direction. Okay, I know it makes me sound thick in retrospect, but at the time I didn't appreciate the significance of the remark, or the way Zöe looked daggers at Marcia. After another half hour I thought it was time I made a move, so I started to excuse myself. Cora turned to Zöe and said, "Adam only lives a few stops past you on the tube. Why don't you go with him Zöe, make sure you get home safely?" Zöe finished her drink. "What's this, 'mother', you trying to get rid of me? No, you're right, I'd better get home too. D'you mind Adam? You don't need to get off at my stop with me or anything, but the company'd be nice." Zöe normally took the bus home, because the London underground stations in the rush hour are like a massive rugby scrum, which would be dangerous to her. As I took the tube I'd never travelled with her before, but I was happy enough to, and she was right, having someone to chat to would be better than staring into space for a dozen stops. It was a short walk to the tube station, and as Zöe's more than two feet shorter than me (I'm five-eleven) I had to amble along to enable her to keep pace with me. On the train we talked vaguely about work and our colleagues, and what we planned to do at the weekend. It turned out Zöe and her family were fans of the local football team, West Ham United, and had season tickets for the ground, so that was her Saturday accounted for. I had nothing arranged until Sunday, when I was meeting my sister for lunch. She also lives in London, just south of the Thames in Greenwich, a much nicer area than mine. I was slightly self-conscious on the journey, sitting next to Zöe. She attracted the odd curious stare from other travellers, but if she noticed she didn't let on. When we reached Zöe's stop she started to protest as I got off the train with her, but I interrupted her. "I'm hot going to abandon a damsel halfway to her door. I told Cora I'd see you home and I will." Jokingly I did a kind of low courtly Sir Walter Raleigh bow, and she chortled with amusement. I saw Zöe to the door of the council flat her family occupy, then prepared to lope back to the underground. As I turned, Zöe caught my sleeve. "Adam, would you like to come in for a few minutes, for a coffee or something?" It was getting late, I still had a substantial journey ahead of me, and I started to make my excuses. I stopped as Zöe cast her eyes down, and mumbled, "Okay, of course, I'm sorry. It's just that my folks have never met any of my friends from work and, well, they worry about me." I suddenly felt like a selfish turd. I had no reason to, but seeing the look of disappointment on my friend's face I quickly said, "Sure, that'd be nice. It's a cold night, I could do with a coffee to warm me up." Grinning happily, the manipulative little minx reached up and unlocked the door. As we entered, a small white bundle of fur flung itself along the narrow hallway towards us, yapping madly. It ran excitedly in small circles around my ankles, and I saw it was some kind of dog, with a red bow tied in its topknot. Zöe laughed as she reached down to stroke it, saying, "Calm down Twinkie, you'll do yourself a mischief." The dog responded by lapping madly at her hand with a tiny pink tongue. I could hear a popular TV soap opera blaring from a room off to the left. The door swung open and a chubby middle-aged woman appeared and kissed Zöe on the cheek. "Hello sweets, cor, you're cold, come in and warm up." Then she turned to me, as if she'd noticed me for the first time. "Oh, hello, come on it, can I get you a drink?" Walking into the room from the cool hallway was like hitting a wall of heat. A skinny man, about the same age as his wife, rose from a lumpy armchair and also kissed Zöe. "'Ello munchkin, sit down by the fire and warm yourself up. All right mate, grab a seat on the sofa." I did so. I hadn't given the slightest thought to what my friend's parents might be like, but I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that they weren't also dwarves. They weren't giants either, but both were only a few inches shorter than me. As Zöe introduced me, another family member walked in: her brother, who was the tallest of the lot, lean like his father and probably only an inch below my height. They all shared paler versions of Zöe's colouring, and I was instructed to call them Tom, Margie and Steve. As I sat in that cosy front room, the doings of the residents of Albert Square muted on the TV, I was glad I'd accepted Zöe's invitation to come in. It was such a pleasant scene of warm family domesticity that I started to feel a bit nostalgic for my own folks. Zöe told her family about her day at work, they talked about the Hammers match they were off to see the following day, we chatted about a major news story...even though I was a stranger, I didn't feel in the slightest bit as if I was left out, or intruding. Zöe sat on a small pouffe by the flame-effect gas fire, the dog's head cradled in her lap as it stared up at her adoringly. Zöe glanced up at me occasionally, and smiled reassuringly. At one point she mouthed the word "Thanks" and winked at me. After half an hour or so I could feel my eyelids getting heavy with the sultry heat in the room, and decided I'd better make my way home before I fell asleep. Zöe's dad, Tom, saw me to the door, placing one hand on my shoulder and pumping my hand with his other. With a huge smile, he half-whispered, "Thanks for seeing Zöe home Adam, it was nice to meet you. I hope we see you again before too long." It was only as I settled into a seat on the tube train that it dawned on me that Zöe's parents seemed to have assumed that I was her boyfriend. I sniggered to myself: what a ridiculous idea! But as the train trundled on through the East London night I began to ask myself why I thought it was so ridiculous. After all, Zöe and I were good mates, she was a pretty girl with a nice personality and a good sense of humour, and she obviously liked me. If she was a 'normal' girl -- whatever the hell that is - with the same face and the same personality, would I think twice about taking a chance on asking her out? By the time I reached my flat I felt thoroughly ashamed of my initial dismissal of the idea. I spent an uncomfortable Saturday, slouching round the local supermarket, then slumped in front of the telly watching a dull rugby league match, Zöe never far from my thoughts. The more I considered it, the less the idea of asking her on a date seemed ridiculous to me: I just wasn't sure I had the courage. It had little to do with her size. I've always been considered reasonable looking -- regular features, chestnut coloured hair, slim -- but I've also always been a bit shy around girls. By the time I went to bed I was totally confused. The one bright spot of the day had been hearing that West Ham had won their match 3-0. When I checked my phone that evening I grinned when I saw a text saying, "Three-nil, three-nil -- up the Hammers. Zöe, x". My sister, Angie, is two years older than me. We met on Sunday at one of her favourite restaurants, a rather yuppified place just round the corner from the Royal Naval College. She lives with a City trader called Mark, who she's known since she was 14, but he was playing for his pub football team that day so it was just the two of us. We chatted about how our respective jobs were going, about Mark's upcoming birthday, and so on, but inevitably the conversation crept round to my love life, or complete lack thereof. There was a time when Ange was determined to play matchmaker for me. She's given up on that, thank God, but she continues to take an unhealthy interest in that aspect of my life. Hesitantly, not really meaning to, I told her there was a girl I was sort of interested in. She beamed at me over her wine glass. "Oh Adam, that's great, when can I meet her?" I spluttered into my own glass. "Hang on Ange, I haven't even asked her out yet. Anyway, it's not that straightforward. We work together -- in the same room I mean." Angie rolled her eyes impatiently. "So? For God's sake Adam, you haven't had a girlfriend since your second year at uni. I wouldn't be surprised if your willy's shrivelled up." I scowled at her in embarrassment at her crudeness, but she didn't notice. "I've always thought the taboo about dating someone just because you work with them is stupid. You only have one life, and what's better, finding the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, or not risking it because you work together, then sitting staring at them dewy-eyed for the next ten years and wondering what might have been?" I thought about Mark, a nice enough guy but a bit wet. I chuckled, "So when are you going to find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with?", then ducked as my sister threw a bread roll at me. I went into work on the Monday determined to ask Zöe out; unfortunately my resolve failed me. I kept almost doing it, then bottling out at the last moment. On the Tuesday I happened to have a work meeting with Cora. We went into a private room, and when the meeting was finished I said there was something I wanted to ask her. Trying hard to sound casual about it, and staring over Cora's shoulder at the wall, I said, "Do you, er, know if Zöe's ever had a boyfriend?" Cora smiled, with a gleam I her eye. "Not that I know of. Why, are you thinking of applying for the post?" I shrugged awkwardly, trying to think how to reply. Cora continued, "I think that'd be great. She likes you -- a lot." Intrigued, I asked what Zöe had said about me. "Oh, she's always talking about you, though she tries to pretend it's nothing. She went on and on yesterday about how much her parents liked you, how lovely they thought you were." Given that my desk was feet away from Zöe's I began to wonder when all these conversations about me took place -- my guess was in the ladies loo; but Cora continued. "Anyway, it's not just what she says, it's the way she looks at you too. She's forever mooning at you when she thinks you don't notice. She thinks you're a real gentleman." I thanked Cora, and rose to leave. Then she spoke again, more seriously this time. "Adam, there is one thing. Don't take this the wrong way, but...please don't ask her out if you're just looking for a bit of a laugh. You're a good looking lad, and you have as much right to some fun as the rest of us, but I wouldn't want to see Zöe hurt. She used to say she'd never get a bloke because any 'normal' man would be embarrassed to be seen with her, but she really does like you. She puts up a good front in the office, but she works hard at it. She really doesn't have much self-confidence, and she's a fragile little soul at heart. Okay love?" I nodded and thanked Cora, turning over her words as I returned to the office. The rest of the morning I could feel Cora's eyes boring into me, and as Zöe and I rose to go to lunch she caught my eye and gave me a vigorous nod. Zöe and I chatted amiably over our food then, just as we were finishing, I said, "Zo, er, I was wondering. Would you fancy coming for a drink with me after work on Friday, just you and me? I mean, don't feel you have to say yes, or anything, I don't want to put any pressure on you, I mean..." Zöe's amused grin told me I was gabbling like an idiot. She smiled, and replied, "Yeah, I'd like that. Just so I'm clear, are you saying you just want a pint with a mate, or are you asking me on a date?" The question threw me slightly, and I burbled, "Well, yes, a date, I mean, no pressure or anything, we'll see how it goes..." Zöe's hand rested on mine on the table. "Adam, shut up. Yes, thank you, I'd love to go out on a date with you." Back in the office, her face was radiant all afternoon. At one point -- after she and Cora had disappeared to the ladies' for a few minutes -- Cora sent me an e-mail: "Well done Adam, you're a real sweetheart. I hope it goes well." Never mind Zöe feeling pressurised, by Friday I was feeling a bit under pressure! Zöe and I had agreed to leave the office separately then meet up outside. Nevertheless, whether from her or Cora, word seemed to have got round. As Zöe left, fifteen minutes before me, there were lots of sly grins from the other girls, and coy remarks telling her to have a good evening. I hadn't taken a change of clothing with me to work, but when I met up with Zöe I was slightly taken aback. Gone were her normal bulky jeans and sweatshirt. She was wearing shiny black shoes with small heels, smart black trousers with a silver thread running up the outside of each leg, and a baby blue sweater with a V neck which displayed a modest amount of cleavage. I hadn't consciously noticed before that Zöe actually had rather an ample chest, as they say. She'd also curled the ends of her hair, and applied some subtle make-up, which she never bothered with in the office. In short, she looked great. She giggled with delight as my jaw dropped. I started to apologise for not having made a similar effort, but she slapped me on the hip to stop me. "Don't be daft, it's your company I want, not the contents of your wardrobe. Anyway, I want people looking at me, not at you." We had decided to go to a different bar to the usual office one. I was a bit unsure about how we should walk together, but Zöe seemed quite comfortable with reaching up and slipping her small hand into mine, which was fine by me. In the evening rush of City folk getting home to their weekends, we made our way against the tide to a pub a couple of streets from the uni. Zöe had her usual St Clements drink, and I opted for half a pint of shandy. Unusually, our conversation was a bit stilted. We both seemed rather awkward, and nervous. When we did speak it tended to be at exactly the same moment, which left us apologising to each other. As my weak beer began to seep into my veins, though, I started to relax a bit. Zöe turned to me, "Adam, thanks for this. I don't often go out, apart from with my family or the gang at work once a month." Rather boldly, I slipped an arm around her shoulders. Instantly she leant in to me, her shoulder resting against my midriff. Quietly, I said, "So what does madam fancy doing this evening? Do you want to eat? We could go up the West End, see a movie if you like." Zöe had closed her eyes and, snuggling her head a bit more into my body, murmured, "Just doing this is nice." One or two of the people in the bar were casting glances in our direction, but mostly they were a cool crowd who just left us to it. After a minute or so of silence, Zöe stirred. "Actually, I am quite hungry. Do you like Pizza Hut?" I replied that I liked pretty much anything but Chinese, and finishing our drinks we made our way to the nearest branch. Zöe explained she 'hit the Hut' quite often with her folks because she could only manage a limited amount of food, and a small pizza was perfect. While we ate, a couple of pre-school children at a neighbouring table seemed fascinated by my companion, and kept staring at her. She gave them a grin and a little finger wave. Noticing my smile, she said, "I get used to that. Kids always seem to find me interesting. It's just adults staring at me that pisses me off." A Little Love We chatted happily in the restaurant. We both like films, and I was interested in the fact that Zöe liked The Wizard of Oz: I'd wondered about that. "Yeah, it's a lovely film," she said. "Time Bandits is good too, there aren't many films where little people are the stars." Her favourite actress was Linda Hunt -- "I loved her in The Year Of Living Dangerously and Silverado" -- but her taste in male leads was more conventional: Johnny Depp, Ben Affleck and so on. On the tube back to Zöe's home we were pretty quiet, but unlike the silence in the pub this was an easy, companionable one. I sat with my arm around her, her head resting against my chest. My sister had been right about one thing: it had been years since I'd been intimate with a girl. The softness of Zöe's body as it rested against mine, the honey smell of her hair as I lay my nose lightly on the top of her head, the sweet scent of the flowery fragrance she was wearing, all began to have an effect on me. I shifted slightly in my seat as I felt a definite stirring in my groin. At Zöe's I went in for a coffee, and again chatted amiably with her family, while petting the dog. Zöe saw me to the door, took both my hands in hers and, her eyes gleaming, said, "Thanks for a lovely evening Addy. I'd really like to do it again sometime." Then she tugged gently at my shirt and, as I leaned down, put her arms around my neck and gave me a lingering kiss on the cheek, very close to my mouth. My cock again began to take an interest. I thought about Zöe all the way home, and lay wide awake in bed thinking about her; about the way my body had reacted to her. It was natural enough, after all, it seemed as if she was my girlfriend now. But...was what I was thinking about possible? Well, obviously it was, but I was a lot bigger than her. I think I've only got an average sized cock (I don't make a habit of making comparisons in gents' toilets!), but even so compared to her, er, 'bits' -- the question of how it would work nagged away at me. After a restless night I got up early on Saturday and flicked on my computer. Feeling slightly guilty about it, I had decided to try and do a bit of research on the subject. I didn't get very far. I'd intended to look at academic websites, lobby groups for dwarves, that kind of thing. However, the first thing I saw was an image of an American 'actress' called Bridget the Midget. She was lying on her back, wearing only black stockings, with the cock of a normal-sized male halfway inside her pussy. Each of her hands held another big cock, while a fourth was pointing in her direction. I stared at the picture in stunned amazement; then, feeling even more guilty than when I started, I quickly closed the computer down and flopped onto my bed-settee, feeling distinctly hot and bothered. After seeing that picture I just couldn't get thoughts of sex with Zöe out of my mind. By lunchtime I had to go to the loo to relieve myself. Normally I conjure up images of Halle Berry and Uma Thurman, but that day the moment I closed my eyes I got a vivid image of Zöe, stark naked except for black stockings, lying with her legs open and beckoning me! That evening I phoned Zöe. She was a bit down because West Ham had been thrashed in an away match, but seemed to cheer up as we chatted. We both agreed what a nice evening we'd had on Friday, and that we'd really like to do it again, very soon. She invited me over for Sunday tea with her folks, but I had arranged to meet up with Angie and Mark to celebrate his birthday. On a whim, I asked Zöe if she'd like to come along. She agreed instantly. When I hung up I felt a warm glow, and realised I really was starting to develop strong feelings for Zöe. A quick phone call to my sister, who bubbled with excitement at the thought of meeting my new girlfriend, and it was all arranged. The next day I met Zöe at her home and we took a bus to the desolate, windy ferry dock for the boat that would take us across the Thames to Woolwich. She looked lovely again. She was quite nervous at the prospect of meeting my sister, but also seemed quite excited. Another bus trip and we were in Greenwich, where we met up with Angie, Mark and his younger brother in a popular pub restaurant. As we approached their table I saw the two men's jaws drop. It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't thought to mention Zöe's most obvious feature to Angie! I couldn't believe it -- how could I have been so stupid? Angie's eyes widened for a split second, but she rallied wonderfully, bless her, giving Zöe a glowing smile, shaking her hand and saying how lovely it was to meet her. My sister's great with people, and Zöe soon relaxed, ordering a child's portion of food. Between the main course and the dessert, Angie linked arms with Zöe and said, "Come on Zo, let's got the ladies for a bit of girl chat. I'll tell you all the embarrassing things I know about our Addy." I laughed. As soon as they'd gone, though, the two men started asking me increasingly intrusive questions about Zöe: how did we meet, how long had we been going out...gradually it got more personal. Mark's brother, Paul, said, "But she's so small. Isn't it a bit like dating a child, I mean, paedophilia?" I was infuriated by his ignorance. Trying to control my temper, I replied, "Of course it isn't, you prat. Zöe's a mature adult just like you and me; well, like me, anyway." Mark sniggered at that. Then, in what I took to be a disastrous attempt to rescue the conversation, he nudged me in the ribs and hissed, "At least you don't need to worry about her comparing you to other blokes, eh Adam? To someone her size, any cock's bound to look huge." Both of them started to chortle, but when Mark saw how un-amused I was he tried to compose himself. He said, "Seriously, though, what does she call herself. I mean, a dwarf, a midget, or what?" Zöe's voice cut across his like an Arctic wind. "I call myself sensitive and polite. What do you call yourself, dick-face?" I smirked into my beer, but Angie burst out laughing. When she'd recovered, she mouthed at Mark, over Zöe's head, "You asked for that." When we left, Angie gave Zöe a warm hug, kissed her cheek and said we must go to their place for dinner sometime. Mark was friendly enough too and, to his credit, apologised for his crassness. While Zöe was getting her coat, Ange pulled me to one side. "Don't lose this one little brother, she's special. And she thinks the sun shines out of your arse, God help her." I gave my sister a brief hug and kissed her on the cheek. As we made our way home, my arm around Zöe, she started to apologise for her rudeness to Mark, especially as it was his birthday. I stopped her. "You weren't rude, you were totally justified. He can be a bit of a berk sometimes, but he's okay really. He didn't take offence, he knew he was in the wrong. Angie really likes you, you know." Zöe preened. "Good, I like her too. It'd be nice to get friendly with them, as a couple." She paused to see if I would react to the 'couple' remark. When I didn't, she said, "By the way, Dad told me to ask you, do you fancy coming to the match next Saturday? The Hammers are playing Man U" -- Manchester United, one of the greatest clubs in the world -- "and my brother's working, so there's a spare ticket." I'm not a devoted follower of football. I hadn't been to a match in years: my home town team were so bad, the joke went, that the supporters used to take their boots in case they were offered a game. I replied, "I'd love to come with you. Tell you what, afterwards, why don't I hire a DVD and order in a pizza, and you can come and have a look at the hovel I live in." Even though my prick now seemed to stand to attention every time we touched each other, I hadn't meant anything by inviting Zöe over. She blushed though, snuggled a bit closer to me and, in a quiet voice, said, "Yes, I'd like that. Just you and me, alone together." I was on tenterhooks for the next few days, anticipating what, if anything, would happen when I got Zöe alone in my flat. I suspected she was too. We kept exchanging little smiles in the office, which the others couldn't have failed to notice. On the Wednesday, Zöe e-mailed me, from all of two yards away. "Addy, do you fancy a drink tonight? I know I see you all day in here, but I've been missing you since Sunday. Luv, Z x" I felt slightly light-headed, I'd never known a girlfriend before who felt about me quite like Zöe seemed to. When we left the office I was surprised that Zöe led me into a nearby wine bar. Grinning at the look I gave her, she said, "I can drink a bit of alcohol, just not much. Anyway, I think I can trust you not to rip my knickers off. Not here, anyway." I felt my face turn red at her comment. We each ordered a white wine and sat at one of the tables made from wine barrels. Neither of us felt the need to speak, we just sat holding hands across the table, gazing at each other. For a while things were fine. Then a boorish yuppie type at a neighbouring table, who had clearly had several drinks, swayed to his feet, stared in our direction, and said in a loud, slurred voice, "Hey, Grumpy, Snow White's been looking for you." I couldn't believe it. I knew I had to say something, but Zöe clamped her hand down on mine and whispered, "It's all right Addy, just ignore the arsehole." Uncomfortably I rested back in my seat, resolving that we'd leave as soon as we finished our drinks. One of the yuppie's drinking pals wearily put a hand on his shoulder and tried to pull him back into his seat, as if he'd seen it all before. They guy shrugged off the hand and took a step closer to us. "Oi. lawn ornament, I'm talking to you. Where's your little red hat and your fishing rod?" He gave a snorting laugh, as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. His two companions cringed with embarrassment, but made no further moves to restrain him. I stared at the bloke, and said in a quiet, controlled voice, "Look mate, we just came in her for a nice quiet drink. Why don't you just leave it, and go back and join your friends?" He turned his gaze briefly on me, and snarled, "I'm not talking to you, dickhead, I'm talking to Dopey there." The young guy behind the bar started to glance nervously in our direction, clearly wondering if he should get involved. Before I could react further, Zöe leapt to her feet, stood inches from the loudmouth with her hands on her hips, and snapped, "Look, arsehole, just what is your problem with me?" The man leant down and sneered at her. "You're so ugly it's putting me off my food, you nasty little goblin." I bristled, but without looking at me Zöe thrust out a hand to hold me back. Staring into the guy's ruddy face, she said calmly, "If ugliness is your problem, mate, it's just as well you don't have a mirror in your cave." His two mates both smirked at that, and one of them called over to him to stop making a prat of himself. He clearly wasn't happy at being bested by Zöe, though, and growled, "Fuck off back to the circus, you freak. Jesus, I don't know why people like you aren't aborted." That was it. There was no way I was going to let that pass. He was over six feet tall, and looked like a rugby playing type. I was probably about to get a good kicking, but I angrily made my way towards him. Then I watched in astonishment as his eyes bulged and he sank wheezing to his knees. I glanced down and realised, with shock, that Zöe had punched him hard in the balls! As I watched she executed a perfect head-butt on the bridge of his nose, sending him sprawling backwards. Everyone viewing the scene was momentarily frozen with sheer astonishment, but I reacted quickest. As Zöe aimed another kick at the guy's exposed groin, I dragged her backwards by her armpits. Her swinging foot missed him by inches. Even as I bundled her towards the door she was struggling against me, yelling over her shoulder, "Run out of funny remarks have you, cunt?" I dragged her out of the door and towards the tube station, before the bloke and his mates recovered and came after us. I sat in shock on the tube, Zöe vibrating with anger next to me, and still mouthing the odd obscenity under her breath. After a couple of stops though, the absurdity of the situation we'd just been in got to me. Unable to help myself, my shoulders started shaking in mirth. Zöe noticed and giggled, and within 30 seconds, like two crazy people, we were helpless with laughter, other travellers staring at us, and those standing near us edging away. Gulping for air, Zöe managed to gasp, "That's why I don't go out much." When we'd recovered slightly, she asked, "Do you think he'll call the police?" Still chuckling, I replied, "Oh yeah, I can just see it: Yus officer, I was beaten up by a three-foot-nine girl." That set us off again, and as we rocked with mirth I threw my arms around her. The movement brought our faces close together -- and the next thing I knew, we were kissing. I'm not sure which of us started it, but we pressed our faces into each other hungrily. I pressed my tongue against Zöe's lips, and after a moment she opened her small mouth to me. Her arms were around my neck, and I sucked her tongue, and gently closed my hand around one of her boobs. I was vaguely aware of the guy sitting opposite us staring at this tall man and the tiny girl snogging on the tube. Zöe was aware of it too and, without breaking the kiss for a moment, reached out an arm and flipped him an 'up yours' sign with her finger. He quickly buried his face in his evening paper. As we walked to Zöe's home, I noticed her forehead was a little red from the butt. I asked her where she had learnt to do that. "My brother showed me, but I never thought I really would. I'm sure I'm going to have an awful headache tonight." We giggled together again as we finished the journey. Then I squatted down and we kissed for a while longer before she went inside. For once I didn't follow. Thursday and Friday seemed to drag by, but at last Saturday arrived. Zöe and I met up early and went together for her regular swim at the local pool. She's a strong swimmer, and put my very average doggie paddle to shame. I'd never seen her other than fully dressed before, and I was again struck by what an impressive bust she had, and her shapely legs. Then we met up with her father for lunch in the Boleyn, a pub where West Ham fans congregate before matches. Despite the place being packed and deafeningly noisy, everyone cleared a path for Zöe, and she seemed to be something of a local personality. I passed on the jellied eel pie she and her dad had -- I've never really developed a taste for East End food. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric, the place packed with 35,000 chanting, singing fans. Zöe told me about the West Ham players, then we joined in a raucous chorus of the Hammers song, I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles, before settling back to watch a thrilling encounter. Manchester United won 5-2, with their Portuguese superstar scoring a hat-trick, but, genuine football fans that they are, the disappointed West Ham fans gave him a standing ovation. Zöe and I took a bus to my place, and while we listened to the football results and reports on her transistor radio I placed a pizza order with my friend Gino. When we reached Gino's takeaway he gave Zöe a huge grin. "Blimey mate, have you finally pulled?" Zöe and I glanced at each other and smiled sheepishly. Gino picked up on it and, with a leer, said, "Well at least your right hand'll get a rest tonight", making a wanking gesture with his own hand. Zöe turned bright red and, friend or not, I could happily have murdered Gino at that moment. As we left I apologised to Zöe, but she laughed it off. Settling onto my sofa, Zöe and I cuddled up and happily munched pizza and watched Silverado. Well, we started to watch it. Shortly after the last of the food was gone we began kissing. Long before the movie finished we were into some serious snogging, Zöe lying on top of me. Tentatively I rested my fingertips on her bare skin, between the bottom of her shirt and the waistband of her jeans. She shuddered as I stroked her, and raised no objection as my fingers slipped beneath her shirt. Gradually I slipped it up to her bra. I cupped the hand around one of her boobs, and she pressed her chest forward into my palm. I thought about trying to slip my fingers inside her bra, but decided to take things steadily. As the final credits of the film rolled I glanced at my watch, on the arm around Zöe's neck. Kissing her softly, I whispered, "What time are your parents expecting you home tonight sweetheart?" At first I didn't hear her mumbled reply, so she repeated it, more loudly. "They're not." She drew her head back, and locked her eyes on mine. "Is that all right?" I chucked, and kissed her nose. "Of course it's all right, angel. It's wonderful -- if you're sure." She nodded. "Yes, I'm quite sure. I love you Adam." I hugged her to me and we kissed some more. Then Zöe went to the bathroom, and I quickly made up the bed-settee. Then I turned off the main light in the room, leaving only a small table lamp on. When the bathroom door opened I saw Zöe standing in the doorway in silhouette. She was clearly naked. As she swayed towards me the light from the lamp fell on her. God, I had never seen anything like her. Her skin was creamy white, sharply contrasting with the copper tresses which kissed her shoulders. Her boobs stood out proudly, her tiny pink nipples erect, surrounded by small areola. Her pubic bush was a slightly lighter red than her head hair -- it was neatly trimmed, but she was still hairier than I'm imagined. Her legs looked gorgeous and her feet were tiny. She looked nervous at the way I was staring at her. "Is everything all right?", she asked in a small voice. Breaking the spell I'd fallen under, I breathed, "Yes, everything's...you're perfect. Oh God Zöe, you're so lovely." She smiled self-consciously and squirmed under the duvet. I tore my own clothes off and slid in beside her. Then I gently pulled her to me, and kissed her tenderly. Her arms reached around my neck; her boobs pressed into my upper chest; her pubes tickled my belly; her toes stroked against my knees. She seemed to get an attack of the shivers then, and I held her to me. She pressed her face into my neck, and whispered, "Addy, I've never done this before." I kissed the top of her head. "I know." Well, I'd been almost certain. Cupping her chin between my fingers, I raised her eyes to mine. "I love you Zöe. I'm not going to put any pressure on you. We don't have to do everything tonight. We don't have to do anything, we can just lie here holding each other and kissing, if that's what you want. I want to take this at your pace, however long that makes it." Tears appeared in her eyes. "Really? You don't mind, honest? Oh Adam, I really do love you. I want this to happen so much, but I've been terrified of it for so long...Thank you darlin', you're wonderful." After that we both had tears in our eyes. We cuddled up together and kissed, and I enjoyed the sensation of her warm body against mine. I hoped she wouldn't notice my fierce erection rubbing against her leg, or at least that she wouldn't mind. After a few minutes, still kissing me, she pulled one of my arms from around her neck, and placed my hand on her boob. I pressed it gently, then drew it down her skin until my fingers met on her nipple. Gently I tweaked it between my fingers. She gasped and pushed at me. Moving slowly, not wanting to alarm her, I slipped my lips off her mouth and down onto her upper chest. She moaned happily. Raising my head, I whispered, "Do you mind?" In response she placed her hands on the top of my head and pushed my mouth down to her other boob. Her moaning grew louder as I sucked the tiny bud between my lips, flicking it with my tongue. A Little Love Shortly after that we fell asleep, Zöe cradled in my arms. At some point I began to have the most amazing dream, of Zöe's hands wrapped around my cock. I awoke with a start, and realised it was really happening. I lifted the duvet and stared down. Both of Zöe's hands were holding my shaft. She murmured, "This feels so lovely. And so big." I hoped she wasn't doing that because she felt it was expected of her. I murmured, "Zöe, sweetheart, I...oh fuck!" Her lips had closed over the tip of my dick, and her tongue was flicking across it. I lay back and gasped, my hands clutching at her hair. I felt the tip touch the back of her throat, her tongue swishing across the upper shaft as one of her hands pumped steadily up and down the exposed part, the other one holding my balls. Her movements became more vigorous, and my hips started to thrust towards her. In moments I groaned as a flow of semen burst from my cock into Zöe's mouth. She lay still for a moment, her head resting on my lower belly. Then she squirmed up my body, and I tasted the remnants of my jizz on her tongue and her lips as she kissed me. "I really wanted to do that for you Addy. I've never done it before, I hope it was okay." I squeezed her in my arms, and laughed, "Oh God, it was wonderful darling. Christ Zöe, I really love you." She snuggled happily against me. We lay like that for a while, cuddling, kissing, my hand absently stroking her breasts, then slowly rose, dressed and travelled over to her parents' home. We arrived in time for lunch. I might have expected an uneasy atmosphere -- after all, they had every reason to think that I had just screwed their daughter -- but it was a relaxed, enjoyable gathering. I left mid-afternoon, and Zöe's father saw me out. As he took my hand to shake it he held onto it, placing his other hand behind my elbow. Now he had tears in his eyes as he said, "You're a good lad Adam, I know I can trust you to look after my little girl." Feeling myself choking up, I nodded, and said, "I promise you, Mr Roberts, sorry, Tom, I will never do anything to hurt Zöe. I really love her." Angie was right about Zöe -- she is very special. He nodded and said, "I know you do, son", then turned away, quickly, as if to stop me seeing him cry. On the Monday Zöe was late into work. I started to worry that maybe it was some sort of reaction to what we had done, but she breezed in at 10.30, positively glowing. She apologised to Cora, saying she'd had a doctor's appointment, then gave me a conspiratorial wink. I had to wait until lunchtime to find out what it was about. Zöe said quietly, "I've told my folks I'm staying over at your place tonight, if that's okay. Oh, and the doc gave me these." She drew my attention to below the level of the table, where she was holding a blister pack of small whitish tablets. For a moment I didn't get it. "What are...oh, are they...is that THE Pill?" She nodded as if addressing a moron, then giggled. I found it difficult to concentrate on my work that afternoon, knowing what was likely to happen later on. We took the bus back towards my flat, not looking at each other, both too nervous to speak. We ate in a burger joint, then, hand-in-hand, strolled across a local park. Finally, we entered the flat. I wasn't sure how we should move things on from there, but Zöe had clearly thought about it. She simply drew the curtains then stood next to the bed (I hadn't unmade it from the morning) and undressed. Then she sank into it and, her knees drawn up in front of her, looked expectantly at me. I stripped, snatching glances of the view Zöe was giving me of her pussy in the position she had adopted. I joined her in the bed and we drew close, kissing as her arms reached around my neck. I in turn placed mine around her small waist. I felt her raise a knee and, a moment later, her toes started tickling down the length of my prick, and stroking my balls. I had already been semi-erect, but now suddenly I was painfully stiff. I reached down and stroked a finger between her legs, along her pussy. She gasped and her arms tightened around my neck. I whispered, "Okay?" She nodded and smiled. Gently I worked a finger between her pussy lips. God, she was tight -- the combination of her being a virgin and her size. For the first time I wondered if I would be able to go all the way with her. She was boiling hot inside, though, and very wet. I stirred my finger around, and she began moaning into my mouth. I was wondering when to move towards actually putting my cock inside her, but she more or less made the decision. She began to slide down my body, and positioned herself so that I was between her legs, the tip of my dick nuzzling her opening. Rolling her onto her back, I gently pushed forwards. She gave a sharp breath, and braced her hands and feet against me. Then she put her hands to my hips and pulled, encouraging me to continue. When I got three-quarters of the way into her I started to feel as if I was meeting natural resistance, and stopped. She whispered, "That feels nice. Can you just hold it there a moment, while I get used to it?" I was very aware that Zöe's face was buried somewhere in my chest. I began to slide my knees up the bed, easing them forwards until they rested at the join between her bum and her thighs. Her legs pointed towards the ceiling in front of me, my hands nestled around her cute little bum. She smiled, and murmured, "Mmmm, okay, let's go for it, big boy." Grinning, I began to slide in and out of her, slowly at first, and quite gently. The feel of her pussy was amazing -- like tight, hot, damp velvet clamped around my dick. It was so fantastic I wasn't sure how long I was going to be able to last. As I continued to thrust into her, Zöe started moaning quite loudly, her legs waving and her hands clamped to my forearms. Beginning to get more excited, I increased both my pace and the strength of my thrusts, encouraged when she groaned, "Ooohhh, fuck, yes, that feels goooodd!" As I began to feel my climax building I leaned back slightly, so that Zöe was effectively sitting in my lap, riding my cock, her legs splayed either side of me. She suddenly gasped, rocked back and forth on me and buried her face in my chest. It took only a few more thrusts before my cum surged into her, and I fell back on the bed with her on top of me. We made love several times that night. We found that one position that worked well for us was with Zöe on top of me, my hands wrapped around her hips and lifting her as she impaled herself on me, giving a small scream with each downward thrust. I also explored her tight little pussy with my tongue, and brought her to a shattering orgasm with one finger inside her and my thumb stroking her clitoris. In between, we did a lot of kissing, cuddling, and whispering to each other how much in love we were. We still both work at Barbican University, in the same office. Everyone knows about us and they're delighted for us, especially for Zöe. We lived together in my tiny flat for about six months, spending occasional nights over at her family home, then her local council managed to find us a one-bedroom flat not far from there. We often have Sunday lunch with her folks, we visit Angie quite regularly, and I've got my own season ticket to see West Ham now. I've had a long chat with Zöe's doctor, and done a lot of reading up about her medical condition. I'm well aware that she may have health problems in the future, and maybe a reduced lifespan. We haven't thought about starting a family yet -- if at all -- but again we know there could be complications. As it is, we're still very much in love, and I'm just cherishing every moment I get to spend with my sweet darling.