Note: this is a two-part story in that you can also read the girl's perspective.

It's 7:30 in the morning, but it might as well be lunchtime according to my internal clock. The warm sunshine of southern California is pouring through the windows of my girlfriend's house and the light's angle perfectly highlights the dust particles that orbit me as I sit in the kitchen nook with my cup of coffee. Even though I've been awake since 2 am, this is my first caffeine of the day. Having flown in from Maine, I thought I could beat the jet lag by postponing coffee. The pounding in my head suggests this was not the best strategy.

Ignoring the headache as best I can, I try to concentrate on the to-do list I am composing:
Close Kennedy account
Confirm car title transfer
Pay final utility bills
Book Vancouver hotel
Bring checks for officiant, photographer, and DJ

The open windows admit a salty smelling breeze. I inhale deeply. Even though I lived in Maine for the past two decades, the ocean carries a markedly different scent on the west coast. In Bar Harbor, the ocean seemed untamed to the point of malevolence. Not so in San Diego, where the water exudes an amicable welcome. The sound of cooing doves slithers through the window and though it's decidedly more pleasant than squawking seagulls, I miss my old home state anyway. I'm silently contemplating the allure of lobsters vs tamales when I hear footsteps behind me.

“Oh, hi Jason,”a voice says.

“Good morning, Alice,” I answer, turning to give the young girl a hug. She's my girlfriend's daughter. Soon to be my stepdaughter, if you want to get technical about it.

“I didn't know you were going to be here today,” she says.

“My project at work wrapped up ahead of schedule,” I explain, “so I decided to come out a few weeks early to surprise your mom.” I take a sip of coffee. “And you too.”

Alice nods. “Did mom already leave for work?”

“Bright and early at 6 am. As usual.”

Alice stifles a yawn. She's very clearly just woken up because she's still wearing a tank top and short shorts that barely hide her underwear. Plus her brown hair is tousled and there is a crease on her cheek from a wrinkle on her pillowcase. It's so adorable that my eyes must have lingered too long. Alice self-consciously crosses her arms over her chest, hiding the two small bumps on her white tank top.

“Um, I should go get ready,” Alice says, excusing herself.

“Do you want me to make you something for breakfast?” I call after her. “Omelette? English muffin?”

“No, thanks, I'll probably just have cereal.”

She's already behind her bedroom door so her voice is muffled. Maybe it's my imagination, but I swear her breast buds have gotten just a teensy bit bigger since I last saw her four weeks ago. I set my to-do list aside the newspaper on the table, then transfer it to the countertop for safekeeping. It occurs to me how majorly screwed I would be if I lost this piece of paper. I end up sticking it to the refrigerator with a magnet. Even this mild task has me exhausted so I return to the table to continue working on my coffee.

I'm fiddling with the newspaper when the pencil rolls off the table. Sighing, I stoop to retrieve it but disaster strikes when I bang my head against the table. “Ow! Damn, damn, ow!”

“Are you okay out there?” Alice calls.

“Yes, I'm fine! Everything's fine!” I congratulate myself for not unleashing any cuss words onto Alice's virgin ears. Now I get to enjoy two kinds of headaches. The newspaper receives my desultory attention. In the background, I hear the drawers opening and closing, assorted splashing water sounds, and the angry buzz of a hair dryer. Fifteen minutes later, Alice re-enters the kitchen.

“That was fast,” I comment. Her brown hair has been gathered into a tidy ponytail. Now properly dressed, she's wearing a black t-shirt, denim skirt, and bright blue socks. I can't help but notice she's wearing a bra too.

“It would take longer if mom let me wear makeup,” Alice grumbles. She rifles through the refrigerator. “She keeps saying I'm not old enough.”

“Your birthday is coming up.” This comes out of my mouth as a half statement, half question. “Isn't it this week? You're going to be twelve right?”

“Yes,” Alice says. “She said I could start wearing makeup when I turn twelve, but I bet she'll change her mind.” She seats herself at the table.

“Is that all you're having for breakfast?” I ask, glancing at the glass of chocolate milk in her hand.

“I'm not really hungry,” she replies.

“I know exactly how you feel,” I tell her. “I hate to sound like such a wimp, but this jet lag is really kicking my ass. Come on, coffee... do your job. ” I gulp down the rest of my mug.

“Did you want some more?” Before I can answer, Alice has fetched the carafe from the coffeemaker and is filling my cup.

“Thank you, Alice.”

“You're welcome.” She returns the carafe to the counter and sashays back to the table. “It's a nice morning,” she comments.

“It is nice,” I agree. “I was just thinking how everything feels so much more inviting in California.”

“I meant, nice for us,” Alice says. “It's not very often that we, you know... get to be alone together.”

“Quiet mornings are definitely the best.” I'm already almost finished with this second cup of coffee, but I notice Alice has barely touched her chocolate milk. “Are you sure you don't want something for breakfast? It's no trouble.”

“No, I don't want anything,” she answers.

“I don't know, kiddo. They say kids who eat breakfast get better grades.”

“Well, I don't want food.”

“Suit yourself.” I'm staring at the newspaper but the words are blurring and not making sense. How much it would screw up my circadian rhythm to take a nap right now?

“Jason?”

“Yes, Alice?” I say absentmindedly.

“You know that thing we sometimes do? Do you think we could do it right now?”

My hand is automatically bringing the coffee cup to my lips before my brain fully processes what Alice is asking. I take a sip, trying to play it cool. “I'm sorry, Alice, I'm not sure what you mean. What thing?”

Alice has a smile on her face but she isn't looking at me. “You know...”

“You want to go the skate park?” I'm suddenly in a teasing mood. This is probably cruel, but I want to see how long I can keep the charade going. Alice giggles, her smile still plastered on her face.

“No, silly. I want to...” She makes a series of waving motions with her hands. I adopt a look of confusion. “I want you to touch me.”

“Touch you?” I scratch my chin as I ponder her request.

“I mean down there.”

My cock lurches to attention at her words. Though we have played together often, this is the first time Alice has specifically initiated anything. The thought of an eleven year old girl propositioning me wipes out any further coyness on my part. “Oh sweetie,” I murmur as I take her by the wrists and pull her close. Alice snuggles into my lap. Her deliciously slim bum nestles nicely against the bulge in my shorts. My hands caress her smooth, milky legs that feel unbelievably soft. “Did you miss me?”

Alice giggles again. Instead of answering, she parts her knees and lets her legs fall on either side of mine. I let my hands wander toward her inner thighs but stop short when I reach the hem of her skirt. “Hey, I asked you a question: did you miss me?”

“Yes.”

I reward her by making contact with her underwear. My finger traces light circles on the fabric. “I missed you too. Did you think about me?”

“Yes.”

My fingers dig in harder against her underwear, causing her to stiffen and arch her back as she sits in my lap. “Did you get excited when you thought about me?” Unable to resist any longer, I slip my hand inside the elastic waistband of her underwear where I find more than a little wetness.

“Yes!” Alice gasps. She does a delicious squirm in my lap, her head falling backward onto my shoulder. Her hair is a heady scent of shampoo plus eleven year old girl. I let one finger dive deep into her hairless valley before settling on the unmistakably swollen knot that is her clit.

“And what did you imagine when you thought about me?” I whisper in her ear. Alice doesn't answer. Her fingers are gripping my forearm so tightly that she's leaving marks. I ease up on my ministrations until I'm just barely touching her. Alice gives the smallest whine as she realizes what I'm doing.

“What did you imagine when you thought about me?”

“I thought about what you're doing right now,” Alice tells me. She spreads her knees a little wider. I know what she wants, but I want to make this moment last. Instead I take her by the arms and stand her up. She is wobbling unsteadily on her feet, so I lift her into a sitting position on the kitchen table.

Alice's face is flushed and a few strands of hair are matted to her damp forehead, but she looks absolutely beautiful. Her gangly limbs and developing chest only make her more perfect in my eyes. I am consumed with a sudden desire to eat her up, to gobble up every inch of her.

She giggles. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I can't help it. You're so pretty.” This makes her giggle again. “I don't remember you wearing a bra the last time I saw you.”

“Mom got it for me two weeks ago.”

“Can I see it?”

Another giggle. “Can't we, you know, go back to what we were doing?”

“Just a little peek?”

She starts pulling her shirt off. I've seen plenty of women undress in my life, but there's nothing like watching an eleven year old girl take off her shirt. It's a combination of naivete and abandon that mixes like gin and tonic. I can tell she knows she's doing something naughty, but wants to do it anyway. Alice pulls her head through the neckhole and gives her ponytail a triumphant little shake before neatly folding her black shirt and placing it on a pile of newspaper.

“It's super cute,” I tell her. It's just a plain black bra, just the way I like it. Nothing fancy, no lace or styling, just your basic 32A bra. “How many bras did you get?”

“Four,” she says. “Mom didn't want to buy more because she said...”

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“Can I see what's underneath?” I place a hand on her knee. “Please?” Her arms slither out from the shoulder straps first. Then rotates the entire bra around her chest until the clasp is under her chin, where she can see it. I guess she needs some practice to undo it when it's behind her back.

Her bra is removed without any fanfare, unless you count the victorious trumpeting in my head. The bra joins her folded shirt on the table. I'm trying not to stare, but her budding breasts are irresistible. At the moment they are merely cone-shaped protrusions, crowned by a pair of petite nipples in the loveliest pink, on her otherwise flat chest but they are oh-so-perfect. As if hypnotized, I slowly reach a hand because I MUST touch them.

“Oooh,” Alice shivers as my fingertip grazes her areola. My cock throbs in sympathy. I decide I've teased her long enough. Her legs are dangling off the table so I take an ankle in each hand and prop her foot onto my knees. Then I let her take the next move.

I don't have to wait long. Keeping her feet perched on my knees, Alice spreads her legs. Her denim skirt is just short enough to afford me a view of her underwear from where I'm sitting. There is a darkened wet spot on the crotch. It's getting hard to contain my drool so I reach under her skirt and tug at her underwear. Alice assists me by lifting her ass off the table.

Now we're getting somewhere. I put my hands on her knees and part her thighs. It's a repeat of the scene we just did, but his time there's no pesky underpants in the way and I'm rewarded with an unencumbered view of her slit in all its hairless glory. Her flesh is puffy to the point of being plump. I hike her skirt up to get it out of the way before diving into her treasure chest.

Wetness is the first sensation. And softness. I spread her open so I can admire the petals that adorn her pussy. I notice they're the exact same shade of pink as the buds on her chest. I explore a bit more before finally settling on the sensitive nubbin crowning it all. The moment I make contact with her clit, Alice leans back until she is lying on the table.

I can tell she's getting excited because the soles of her feet keep pressing against my knees. Establishing a pattern, I stroke her clit for a few moments before swooping downward, clockwise, using her pink lip as my guide. When I reach the bottom of her slit, I probe inward, just a tiny bit, and then return to her clit as I trace her other lip on the upstroke. I do this several times. Each time I make contact with her clit, Alice's toes curl up in an adorable fashion against my thighs.

I also probe incrementally deeper when I'm at the six o'clock position. Though I've certainly been dying to penetrate her, I've also exercised the patience of a saint and never went that far. I keep doing my swirly motion, each time plunging deeper until I'm up to the first knuckle of my index finger.

What the hell. I fondle her clit, glide downward, but then break the rhythm by gently pushing my finger inside her pussy. There is no resistance at all. It feels like velvet as I bury my finger to the three-quarter mark. I look at Alice, but her eyes are closed. Between the copious wetness between her legs and her curling toes, I figure Alice has no objection to what I just did.

Leaving my finger embedded, I use my other hand to stroke her clit. Her muscles are rhytmically squeezing my finger now. Alice takes a deep breath. I begin fingerfucking her, taking care to be delicate. Another deep breath.

Jesus Christ.

She so easily accepted my finger that I can't help but wonder if she could take my cock. Maybe? Her girlish figure is as slim as they get. Experimentally, I withdraw my finger and insert two fingers, index and middle, side by side.

Alice gasps. “Oh god!” Her arm wildly flails, knocking over the forgotten glass of chocolate milk.

I am instantly riddled with guilt. “I am so sorry, sweetie!” I yank out my fingers, eliciting another gasp from her. Oops. “Sorry! I should have been more gentle. Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to!”

She props herself up on her elbows. “No... I mean, yes, it's okay,” Alice answers shakily.

“Did it hurt really bad?”

“Just a little bit.”

“Do you want to stop? Should we stop?” I feel like such a jerk now. My hands are resting contritely in my lap. Though her feet are still resting on my thighs, Alice has locked her knees together.

“Did you put something inside me?” she asks.

“It was my finger,” I confess. Alice has a surprised look on her face. I catch her peering at my finger. “I thought it was okay, but I guess not. I'm really sorry.”

“It was okay at first.” Still lying on the table, Alice turns her head to study the chocolate milk puddled on the table. “Sorry I knocked over my glass.”

“Don't worry about it. I can clean it up later.” I'm trying to think of more apologies, but has laid back down again with her eyes closed. We both remain motionless for a long moment. Outside, the doves are still cooing furiously and the breeze has warmed considerably. Without saying anything, Alice slowly spreads her legs again, causing a new surge of life to my wilted erection.

Gently, very gently, this time, I begin stroking her clit. Her pussy is still slick with her juices. If anything, she might even be more wet. Since I don't dare insert a finger, I use my free hand to fish my hard cock out of my boxers and jack myself off. I wonder how Alice would react if I came all over her. Though she has seen my cock, the young girl has never actually touched my cock, let alone witnessed an ejaculation. Patience is a bitch, but I know better than to rush things.

Before long, Alice's breathing is once again heavy and ragged. Her toes are once again wriggling against my legs. Inspired, I take an ankle and move her foot onto my erection, letting her sole press against it. “Can you feel that Alice?” I ask her softly.

“Yes.”

“Do you know what that is?” Her foot is pawing experimentally against my rock hard cock. I reciprocate by pushing back against her motions. I can even feel her toes curling against my shaft. Her big toe wiggles against my purple cockhead.

“Yes.”

“What is it? Tell me.”

“It... it's your... Ohhh...” Alice suddenly comes without any warning. My thumb mashes down against her clit, so hard that I can feel her pelvic bone underneath. Alice gasps and groans on the kitchen table as the orgasm sweeps her away. I am entranced by her preteen pleasure. She is riding a wave for several seconds before her body finally stops convulsing. Her leg is now dangling limp, but my cock is still under her foot. I use my muscles to flex my penis upward, reminding her of its presence.

Alice eyes snap open. “Oh gosh, look at the time!” she exclaims. “I'm going to miss the bus.” She snatches up her bra and shirt and then slides off the table. It takes all of ten seconds to put her clothes back on before she is rushing to her bedroom. Her backpack now slung over her shoulder, Alice hurries to the door where she stops to pull on her shoes.

“Do you need a lunch?” I ask, feeling somewhat superfluous.

“I'll be fine,” Alice responds. “Gotta run. Bye!”

And just like that, she's gone. I suddenly feel sheepish because I'm sitting at the kitchen table with my dick still out. My erection has flagged somewhat, but I'm still aching with desire. I retrieve Alice's forgotten underwear from the kitchen floor. Did she have time to grab a fresh pair in her bedroom? Probably not.

The thought of her going commando gets my erection as firm as ever. Turning her underwear inside out, I artfully drape it over my cock so the crotch is perfectly lined up with the precum oozing from the head. Then I think of how wonderful it felt when I had my finger in the preteen girl.

I smile to myself. While I am forced to be patient with Alice in the real world, my imagination has no such restrictions. Patience or not, though, I know it's only a matter of time until our next encounter. I'm already plotting how it could unfold.

Moving to San Diego was the right decision after all.

Note: this is a two-part story in that you can also read the girl's perspective.