My Worst Nightmare
by Shushali
As a single guy, I - thankfully - am not normally asked to baby-sit anyone's
kids. Although I was married for 6 years when I was in my 20's, we never had
kids since I never felt 'right' about it. After going through a devastating
divorce when I was a young teen, I promised myself I would never have kids
unless I was 100% certain that the relationship would last. I just couldn't do
to my kids what my parents had done to me. In my case, I was right about my
marriage, it broke down over time, and it wasn't because she wanted kids or
anything like that. I have dated since then, but have never clicked with anyone.
However, that's a story for another time.
Now in my late 30's, imagine my dismay when I get a phone call from my
stepmother's daughter, Miranda, who wanted me to watch her kids. Not only did I
not know her very well, I wasn't really 'family' to her since I was only her
step-brother. Furthermore, who the heck asks an unmarried guy to watch their
kids? It must be an ethnic thing, since I was caucasian, and my step-family was
Spanish.
"I hate to ask, but your dad and Eliza are going to the same wedding." Miranda
explained. It was my stepmother's nephew who was getting married, which meant he
was also a cousin to my stepmother's daughter. So they were all going to be
there, along with other family members.
"What about Fernando?" I asked. Fernando was Miranda's sixteen-year-old son, and
it would make sense that he could watch his siblings.
"Fernando is going with us, but we can't take the kids since we'll be out late."
Miranda was referring to her eleven-year-old daughter Carolina, and their
eight-year-old son Carlos. I had seen them a few times at family gatherings, but
I just knew them to see them, I didn't really 'know' them at all.
Before giving me a chance to reply, she added, "I wouldn't ask, but I really
don't know the neighbours very well since we just moved a month ago. Your dad
said that he didn't think you'd mind." I shook my head when I heard this, since
this was typical of my father. He had a bad habit of 'volunteering' my services.
I really hate it when people put me on the spot like this, since I'm either
forced to lie and make up a story about why I can't do it, or I'm stuck doing
something I really didn't want to do. Seeing as my refusal would likely annoy my
dad, I decided to sacrifice my Saturday night and baby-sit. "I guess I can do
it. Although I don't know if I'll be any good, I never had kids."
"Don't worry; you won't have to do anything special. I'll make dinner and leave
it in the fridge and all you have to do is warm it up. Carlos goes to bed at
eight and Carolina at ten. We'll be home after midnight. I really appreciate
this Leslie!" I cringed when she called me Leslie. While it was my name, I
preferred people to call me 'Les', since Leslie sounded so much like a girl's
name. It was my grandfather's name, which explains my parent's choice. How the
heck society turned it unto a girl's name I'll never know. As a result, many
people in the family called me Leslie, since that was how my dad addressed me. I
wasn't about to tell my dad not to use the name of his father because it
embarrassed me. Yeah, like I'm going to go down that road.
"When did you want me there Miranda?"
"How about one o'clock, so I can have the kids fed for lunch."
"OK, I'll see you Saturday."
"Thanks again Leslie, bye." I hung up the phone, again bristling at her calling
me Leslie. For sake of not letting myself get annoyed, I put that out of my head
and went back to watching the DVD that I had paused before answering the phone.
- - - - -
Saturday was here, and I pulled into the empty spot in the driveway beside their
car. After ringing the doorbell, Miranda's husband Joseph answered the door.
"Les! Thank you for coming. We really appreciate it." he said as I shook his
hand and smiled. I was genuinely smiling since at least he remembered when we
first met that I introduced myself as 'Les' and not 'Leslie'. I entered the
house as he motioned for me to come in.
As I took off my shoes I replied, "No problem Joseph. I haven't babysat anyone
since I was in my teens, so I hope the kids don't expect too much of me."
"No, just let them play, feed them dinner and put them to bed. My cell number is
on the counter if you have any trouble."
"Fair enough. Where are they now?" I asked, not seeing the kids around.
Carlos is playing Nintendo, and Carolina is next door playing with a friend." he
said as he gestured to the house on the right, "We told her to be back before
dinner."
"Leslie?" Miranda called out from the kitchen, "can you come here a minute?"
"Yeah." I announced loudly in reply as Joseph nodded to me and went to the
closet to get his coat.
Walking in my stocking feet on the smooth hardwood floors, I made my way to the
kitchen. I saw Miranda as she was placing aluminium foil on a small casserole
dish. She turned to me and said, "Dinner is here, just dish it out and pop it in
the microwave. It's all cooked."
"Sounds easy enough." I neutrally remarked.
"I'm sorry we had to bother you like this, I hope it's not too much trouble."
she responded, clearly feeling a bit guilty for having asked me to come.
"Don't worry Miranda, it's no big deal, I promise." I tried to alleviate any
guilt she may have had. While I may not have wanted to be there, I certainly
didn't want them to know it. I hoped that my smile would assure her it was no
trouble.
After closing the refrigerator door, she reached over and gave me a quick hug
before heading to the bottom of the stairs. In a loud voice she shouted
something in Spanish, but since I don't speak Spanish I only recognised when she
said Fernando's name. I heard the sound of heavy feet bounding around upstairs,
and in seconds Fernando was coming down the stairs. He blandly said "hi" as he
passed me by, in a typical teenage way when they meet some adult they really
don't know. With a final goodbye, they all hustled out the door and were on
their way.
I walked over to the living room and saw Carlos on his stomach playing Nintendo.
"Hi Carlos, having fun?" I asked, honestly not caring whether he was having fun
or not, but just trying to make conversation.
"Yeah." he replied without turning to look at me. He was swinging his bare feet
in the air as he played some kind of side scrolling game on the television.
I could never understand how some families could go barefooted at home. His
parents were the same way. Wouldn't their feet get cold? I don't think I could
ever get used to that.
As I wasn't really needed for anything, I pulled out my e-reader and sat down to
relax. While the game was noisy, it wasn't loud enough to distract me from my
book. I was re-reading the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy series by Douglas
Adams. Although I owned, and had read, the series long ago, I had only recently
picked it up in eBook format. I was looking forward to a good read.
The phone rang at one point during the afternoon, and since they never said I
shouldn't answer it, I figured I would just in case. I wasn't sure if they had
my cell phone number, so I didn't want to take the chance. It ended up just
being a pollster doing a poll on 'who I would vote for in the next election'.
Since I was bored, I did their poll and burned off 5 minutes before I got back
to my book.
Carolina came back home around four o'clock. As she walked by, she waved while
saying "Hi..." and then went up to her room. I smiled and nodded as she went by,
but otherwise I didn't pay much attention to her since I wanted to get back to
my book.
- - - - -
It was five-thirty when I called the kids to wash up and come to the kitchen for
dinner. Carlos had gone upstairs to play not long after Carolina came home, and
so I heard them both 'thump' around before I heard their feet rumble down the
stairs.
"I hope this isn't too early for dinner, when do you guys normally eat?"
"Around now." Carlos quickly offered.
Carolina grabbed some plates from the cupboard as I dug out the casserole dish.
"Thanks Carolina." I said, thankful that she was helping since I didn't know
where they kept their dishes. I hunted around in a few drawers before I found
the one with the large serving spoons. Digging in to what looked something like
home-made hamburger helper, I spooned some helpings onto our plates and then put
the first one into the microwave. The smell of warming food quickly permeated
the kitchen.
Once the first dish came out, I got Carlos eating and then served Carolina,
before serving myself last. We all ate silently for the most part, although I
tried to make some small talk with the kids. You know how it is, every answer
seems to be "Fine" or "Nothing" or "I don't know". Only when I started talking
about the internet did the kids start to perk up and get chatty. That led to
talk about some of the books and movies they like, and soon dinner was done and
I was cleaning up the table and loading the dishwasher.
"What's for dessert?" asked Carlos, which was a bit of a surprise. Miranda
hadn't mentioned anything about dessert.
"Ummm..." I pulled open the freezer and spotted a box of ice cream. Letting out
a sigh of relief I looked back and asked, "Ice cream?"
Their faces broke into smiles as they nodded, so I started opening cupboards to
find where they kept the small bowls.
I called out with my back to them, "Chocolate, vanilla or strawberry?"
"Chocolate!" shouted Carlos.
"Strawberry." Carolina called out after him.
After dishing out dessert, we all retired to the living room and they ate while
I watched the six o'clock news. Following that, I handed over the remote and
they watched a couple hours of kids' shows, as I returned my focus to my
e-reader. Soon it was eight o'clock and I sent Carlos off to bed, reminding him
to brush his teeth. After making sure he was safely in bed, I returned to the
living room and my e-reader as Carolina lay on the couch watching television.
I was beginning to think that this night wasn't going to be too much of a
bother, when Carolina started talking to me after her show ended at nine
o'clock.
"Ummm, Leslie?" she asked with hesitation. Despite her using my proper name, I
wasn't irked at her for using it. I'm not a fan of people who have their kids
call family friends 'Uncle so-an-so' even though they are not their uncle at
all. At best I was her step-uncle, and who ever uses that term? Calling me by my
first name was fine with me.
"Yes?" I replied without looking up from my book, thinking her request would be
trivial.
"Do you have any kids?"
My eyebrows rose as I paused for a moment and stopped reading, before I looked
up at her and cautiously replyed, "No."
"How come?" she added quickly.
"I just don't have any, that's all. Why do you ask?" I replied, curious where
this line of questioning was going.
"No reason." she said as her eyes darted away from me and back towards the
television.
After a brief pause I had just looked back down at my e-reader when she sat up
on the couch and questioned me again, "Are you married?"
I was beginning to get a bit irked at Carolina, since I really didn't think this
was any of her business. "No. I was married for a while, but I'm not anymore.
Why all the questions?" I asked in a nice - but direct - way, trying to find out
what she was getting at.
"Because... Well... could I ask you a question about my parents? You were
married right?" she asked as she fiddled with her hands in her lap.
I was a bit taken aback by this, since I really wasn't the person she should be
talking to about this. Aside from not having kids of my own, common sense
dictated that it was none of my business. With that in mind I replied, "Yes, but
don't you think it would be better to ask them yourself?"
She paused, and still looking into her lap she bit her lip and announced, "I'm
afraid to. Can't I ask you?"
It was at this point that my gut was telling me to bail. Carolina was a nice
enough kid, but I couldn't help but think I should keep my nose out of whatever
problem she had between herself and her parents. Even though I had no clue what
it might be, it didn't matter. It wasn't any of my business. My gut was right,
but sadly, I didn't pay attention to it. If only to get her to stop asking
personal questions of me, I decided to let her ask the question about her
parents. How bad could it be? I let out a sigh. "OK, what is it you wanted to
ask?"
In a quiet voice, and without raising her head, she said, "Ummm, what does it
mean when my dad puts his head between my mom's legs?"
This is why guys should never be asked to babysit kids, especially when a girl
is involved.
"Excuse me?!?" I barked as I nearly dropped my e-reader on the floor. Had I been
drinking, I most certainly would have spit my drink out in shock. What's worse -
even though I had heard her - she didn't understand that my response was that of
shock and not that I didn't hear her.
Turning to face me she began again, "What does it mean when...?"
I cut her off to respond, "No, no, I heard you... I'm sorry, but I can't answer
that." What would posses her to even ask me such a question? Especially when she
didn't even know me very well. My pulse was starting to quicken, since I felt
that I was clearly out of my element here. I had no idea how parents talked to
their kids about sex nowadays, and this was totally none of my business.
"Why not?" she asked, clearly nonplussed at my response.
"Because it's something you need to talk to your parents about."
"But why? Is it because it's a 'sex thing'?"
With exaggerated nodding I replied, "Yes, it most certainly is a 'sex thing',
and you should be talking to your parents about it. Don't they teach you sex-ed
in school?" I added, trying to deflect away from the question at hand.
"Yeah, but no one ever taught us about this. What does it mean?" She was
becoming more adamant about her request, and her manner reflected it.
I was a bit put off by her refusal to accept my answers. While I had been
polite, my patience was beginning to wear thin, and my tone reflected that as I
curtly responded, "Carolina, I said I can't answer that."
She started to whine, "Please...!"
If there is one thing I can't stand, it's whiny kids. Honestly, it's like
fingernails on a chalkboard to me. Therefore, it's no surprise that I snapped
and made a HUGE mistake. Raising my voice I angrily shouted, "I said no!"
As soon as I yelled at her, she started to cry and run out of the room. "You're
mean! I'm telling my mom!" she announced as she raced towards the stairs.
Here is where I panicked. Keep in mind that my thought process only lasted a
split second, but what went through my head was that she was going to tell her
parents I was 'mean' to her, which would get me in trouble with them - and more
importantly with my dad and Eliza - since it would have meant I was 'mean' to
their grand-daughter. Yes I know I could counter with her question being
inappropriate, which was quite true, but I still shouldn't have lost my temper
and yelled at her. There was no excuse for that. What kind of guy yells at a
young girl and makes her cry?
I was screwed. Totally and completely screwed.
"Carolina wait...! Please." I got up and tried to intercept her before she got
to the stairs, but my feet were sliding all over the hardwood floor. I guess
going barefoot at home did have advantages after all.
"NO, leave me alone!" she cried, clearly upset at me as she neared the base of
the staircase.
I was running out of time, so out of panic I gave in and begged her, "Please
stop! I'll tell you what it means!"
She coasted to a stop at the base of the stairs and immediately stopped crying.
Turning to face me, I could see her tear stained cheeks as the overhead light
reflected off her face. While clearly upset, she seemed willing to hear me out.
"Well?" she asked with pursed lips, as she began to wipe away her tears with the
back of her hand.
"Let's go back to the living room and sit down, OK?" She wordlessly nodded and
slowly padded her bare feet back to the living room. With Carolina sitting back
in the same seat as before, I went to the fridge to get a bottle of water. I was
parched and breaking into a sweat. While tempted to grab a beer, I decided
against it. The situation was far too unstable for me to take a chance.
Returning to the living room, I sat down and started to speak calmly to her. I
started with an apology. "Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you. It was wrong, I
shouldn't have done it and I'm really sorry, OK?"
"OK." she said with a sniffle and a nod, seemingly accepting my apology.
While I was going to acquiesce to her demand, I only did so to since I felt I
had no other choice. "Alright. You have to promise that you won't tell anyone
that I talked to you about this stuff. It could get me in a lot of trouble. OK?"
"OK." she replied quickly, becoming less weepy with each passing response.
I decided that it would be best to have her repeat what happened, so I could
keep everything in context. The last thing I needed was to get things wrong and
make matters worse. "So about your question... Why don't you tell me what you
saw again?"
After looking at me for a moment to decide how she wanted say it, she looked
down at her hands when she replied, "I saw my dad with his head between my
mothers legs, and she was moaning. Was he hurting her?" After asking her
question, she looked at me again, and waited eagerly for my response.
I relaxed a bit when I heard the last part of her question, since she was
probably just concerned for her mother. "Were they in their bedroom?" I asked,
wondering how she would have seen this.
"Yeah."
With this seeming to be a simple matter of a child accidentally seeing their
parents being intimate, I answered in a calm and reassuring tone, "No, he wasn't
hurting her. That's a 'sex thing' they call 'oral sex'. Your dad was kissing
your mothers privates."
She crinkled her freckled nose before replying, "Really? Why?"
"Because it makes your mother feel good, and your dad loves your mom so he wants
to make her feel good."
"But that's where the pee comes out." she added, seemingly put off by my
description.
I let out a quiet sigh, since I really didn't want to get into a lecture about
this. "Yeah, but don't you wipe yourself after going to the washroom?"
"Yeah."
"And don't you shower?"
"Yeah."
"Well so does your mother." Two for two I thought to myself, thinking I had
dodged another bullet. However, she continued to pepper me with questions.
"What does it feel like?" she asked, clearly unaware of how intricate a question
she was asking.
Pausing, I wondered how to approach this. This was getting a bit further out of
my comfort zone, and I really wanted it all to end. So I replied with what I
thought was an obvious answer. "Honestly, I don't know, I'm not a woman. All I
know is that guys do it to women all the time, because most women say it feels
really good."
Carolina had put a finger to her lips in thought, as she soaked this all in.
"So, was there anything else?" I asked, exhaling deeply believing that I had
talked my way out of this mess.
"Yeah, can you show me?" she replied in a manner totally oblivious to
inappropriateness of her query.
Unbelievably though, at this particular point in the conversation, it hadn't
actually clicked with me what she was asking me to do. I kid you not.
"Show you what?" I asked, my mind not comprehending that she could be asking
what it sounded like she was asking. Clearly she was referring to something else
that I didn't quite pick up on.
"That thing my dad did to my mom... You said it feels really good. Can you show
me?"
My eyes widened as my brain's delayed reaction kicked in. With a horrified look
on my face I said, "What?!" in a loud voice, before remembering my first loud
voice screw-up only minutes before. Quickly lowering my voice to a calm level, I
began again, "Ah... I mean..." I exhaled deeply before adding in my best adult
speaking manner, "Carolina, you know it's not appropriate for me to do that,
right?"
"Why?" she asked with ambivalence.
"Haven't they told you in school that you're not supposed to do 'sex things'
with adults?"
"Yeah..."
"Well this is a 'sex thing'," I held out my left hand. "and I'm an adult." I
held out my right hand. I paused hoping that she would put two and two together.
"But I wanna try it. You said it feels really good." she replied, in a manner
not unlike how a child would say that ice cream tastes 'really good'. She seemed
to have a logical disconnect between what she was asking and what it actually
meant. It just wasn't 'clicking' with her. Since I only gave her a simple
explanation, she didn't understand the act of cunnilinguis, and she had no clue
what she was actually asking me to do.
I was running out of runway here, and I was totally out of my element. What did
I do to deserve this? Why couldn't she have asked her parents? Why ask me?
At this point, I paused and started to consider just how badly I had botched my
earlier response. Why did I have to open my big mouth? I couldn't have left well
enough alone and just said that I don't know what it feels like. I had to open
my big fucking mouth and say more than I needed to say. What an idiot I was.
Dragging my focus back to the matter at hand, I tried to recover. "Carolina, I
can't do it. I could get in big trouble for even talking to you about it."
Her face was starting to sour. I was looking at the face of a child who was used
to getting what she wanted. "You're mean!" she pouted.
This was going downhill fast.
"Look I'm sorry, I just can't do it." I repeated, hoping that she would respect
that you can't always get what you want.
She got up in a huff, saying, "I'm still telling my mom you were mean to me."
and then she started to walk away.
I sat in stunned silence.
She wasn't running this time, and I was sitting wondering just how screwed I
was. Again, my mind reviewed what had happened in a matter of seconds. I had
talked to her about oral sex, and she could easily mention enough things to
prove it. I was dead. I angrily yelled at a young girl, made her cry, and talked
to her about sex. I was totally and thoroughly screwed. I may as well have
brought over a black guy and bent myself over the back of the couch - that's how
thoroughly screwed I was.
Regardless, I wasn't about to give up yet. "Carolina, please... wait." I called
out to her from my place on the couch, as she hadn't walked out of the room yet.
She stopped in her tracks, arms crossed in front of her, with her back turned to
me. It almost seemed like she had anticipated that I would try to stop her
again. Without turning around, she stood waiting to hear what I had to say.
I pleaded with her, "You're only eleven. You're too young to be doing this."
She spun to face me, and dropping her arms to her sides with her hands balled
into fists, defiantly stated, "I'm almost eleven and a half!"
I was really tempted to roll my eyes here, but I valiantly resisted that
temptation since I was in enough trouble already. So I continued my pleadings,
"That's great, but you're still too young. Please, don't make me do this. You
can't imagine how much trouble I would be in if anyone ever found out. They
would throw me in jail. Is that what you want? To put me in jail?" I decided to
turn the tables and try to guilt her into letting me off the hook. Sadly, it
didn't work.
"I won't tell, I promise. Just lemme try it once." she again begged, her
response clearly indicating that she didn't grasp the enormity of the situation.
However, in hindsight, I guess this makes sense. She was only eleven. Not only
did she not understand the mechanics of oral sex, she had no concept of how
society looked upon adults who sexually interacted with children in today's
world. While they certainly teach kids to tell when an adult touches them
sexually, I doubt they talk about what happens to the adult after they tell.
They don't want the kid to think about that, they only want them to tell
someone. She had no clue how devastating this could be to an adult.
Now before anyone starts thinking that this is a pedophiles 'wet dream', I have
two things to say. First, I'm not a pedophile. I had never lusted after, or had
any sexual thoughts about anyone younger than adult girls in their late teens.
Even then it was from watching porn, not leering at teen girls in public.
Secondly, far from being a 'wet dream' this was a 'worst nightmare'.
Let's recap shall we?
To be crudely blunt, an eleven year-old girl was asking me to eat her out. If
anyone was to hear about this I would be turned in to the police, arrested,
jailed, convicted, I would lose my job, be disowned by my family & friends and
generally my life as I knew it would come to an end. Once out of jail I would
probably end up on welfare living in some cockroach infested bachelor apartment,
with my name on a sexual offenders registry. I would die alone, shunned by
society. You call that a 'wet dream'?! I'm sorry dear reader; I'm going to have
to disagree with you there. If that's not a 'worst nightmare', then I don't know
what is.
On the flipside, if I rejected her request, I am faced with my family thinking
I'm an asshole and a pervert. I had yelled at her, and talked to her about oral
sex - which was a mistake that I couldn't take back now. My family and relatives
would see me as a pariah. While they would still acknowledge that I was right to
reject her request, the problem is that I let it get too far. They won't see
that I rejected her request as 'good' since it should have - rightfully - been
expected that I would do that anyway. It might be years, or decades, before my
family would speak to me again. So there are no positives, only negatives.
I'm left with the "fool's choice", which is to give in to her demands. It seems
like the easy way out, since there is the chance that I may get out of this
alive. If I don't give in, then I am screwed with my family for sure. No other
option there. If I do give in, then there is a chance - to what degree I don't
know - that if she remains silent about it I will escape this nightmare with
only some nightmares.
So, in short, the choice is to take the certain devastating fallout with my
family, or to roll the dice and risk either getting off scott free or going to
jail and ending my life as I know it. The stakes were really high, and a choice
had to be made. Do I go 'all in', or do I 'fold'.
Since I had turned my body to face her as she was walking away, I was leaning
over the left armrest of the couch looking at her with a desperate and pleading
look on my face. She wasn't backing down though, and the stark realization of
that finally hit me. It was here that I decided that I would go 'all in'. I
would take the risk and hope that the cards would be kind to me this night.
Feeling defeated I dropped my arms to the armrest of the couch and then dropped
my head facedown onto my arms. There was a pregnant pause as we both waited to
see what would happen next. For my part, I felt completely helpless. You can't
imagine how gut-wrenchingly awful it is to be in a situation you can't control
that could ruin your life. It's like watching a car accident in slow motion. You
can see the impact before it happens, and you cringe knowing what's going to
happen next.
What's worse, if this could get any worse, is that at this point I don't even
think that she really remembered why she wanted to do this in the first place.
If you're a single child you may not understand this, but anyone who has grown
up with a brother or sister will know that as a child, you always want what you
don't have or can't have. When I was young, if I saw my brother playing with a
toy, I wanted it. Even though I may not have actually wanted to play with that
toy, the fact that my brother was having fun with it made me want it. For her
sake, I think she had gone past wanting this because I said it felt good, and
she just wanted it because I said she couldn't have it. She seemed more focused
on overcoming my objections than anything else. In short, she was a spoiled
child who always got what she wanted.
Carolina was beginning to understand how this was emotionally affecting me, and
without me hearing her, she walked quietly towards me. Once beside me she ever
so lightly touched my arm to get my attention. Out of surprise, I flinched and
raised my head to look at her with a deeply pained look on my face.
"Please?" she said in a softer voice while looking down at me.
I was beaten, and I think she knew it. Looking up at her with sad and empty
eyes, I finally gave in. "You have to promise you will never tell a soul. If you
tell anyone, even accidentally, they'll send me to jail."
Looking down at the floor, I paused as a wave of emotion washed over me. "I
don't want to go to jail." I added quietly, with sadness leaking into my voice
and my eyes ever so lightly clouding with water. I didn't want my life to end
this way.
"I promise I'll never tell." she repeated again quietly. She was beginning to
understand how worried I was, and her demeanour had changed from that of
defiance to compassion. Yet despite this, she was still unwilling to give in.
After another brief pause, and knowing I had no other options, I quietly said
"Ok." and brought my right hand up to rub my forehead. I was starting to get a
headache and my temples were throbbing.
"So what do we do?" she asked, displaying her utter ignorance of what she fought
so hard to attain.
Since I was lost in empty thought wondering how long it would be before I was
arrested, I didn't consciously hear her question.
"Leslie?" she called me by name to get my attention.
"Yeah?" I replied without looking at her, since I didn't want her to see that my
eyes were still a bit watery. Despite everything that had happened, I was still
a man and I still had my pride. I wasn't about to let a young girl see that I
had been on the verge of tears.
"What do we do now?" she asked again.
I pondered her question. As much as one might think this would be easy to do, it
really wasn't. It's hard to do something when every instinct in your body is
telling you that it's wrong. I took a moment to take a closer look at the young
girl I was about to be intimate with. Since I was already looking downward, my
gaze fell to her feet, where I noticed a faint tan line at the point where the
strap from a pair of flip-flops would cover. As I began to raise my head, I
found myself looking at an average girl. She was wearing pink shorts and a
t-shirt that had the word 'LOVE' printed many times on it in varying shapes,
fonts and colours. Although the shirt wasn't tight on her, it still didn't quite
cover her belly-button. She looked to be about four foot five and seventy-five
pounds, give or take. Although she had a little bit of a belly, it certainly
wasn't enough to consider her overweight. Once I reached her face, I found
myself looking into a pair of hazel eyes that stared deeply back at me. Her
light brown hair fell to the middle of her back, with waves that you might see
after un-braiding the hair. She looked very much like a typical girl of her age,
which made this all that much harder.
"Go get changed for bed, and put on a nightgown..." I said meekly, before
adding, "And take off your underwear and leave them in your room."
"OK." she replied and walked briskly to the stairs.
I buried my face in my hands, since I was regretting this already, but there was
no getting out of it now. I pondered my options.
The living room was at the back of the house, so I wasn't worried about being
seen through a window. The drapes were already closed, and it was dark outside
anyway. My thoughts were that we could do this on the couch, and if by some
chance her parents came home early, she could just pull down her nightgown and
no one would be the wiser. It was just a bit past nine o'clock, so it wasn't
quite time for her to go to bed. I figured the wedding reception would still be
in full swing, so I just resigned myself to the inevitable. I heard a noise
upstairs, and then I heard Carolina as she quietly padded down the stairs. She
was wearing a loose-fitting baby blue nightgown with frills on the hem, which
fell just below her knees. Just looking at her made me all that more reluctant.
"What do we do now?" she asked as she came to a stop in front of me, rubbing one
bare foot on top of the other.
"Let's move to the bigger couch." I was on the two-seater, and so I figured it
would be easier on the three-seater. I left the television on, but put it on
mute so I could hear if anyone came in.
Taking a seat at the far end of the couch, she placed her hands in her lap and
stared at me with a tilted head, wondering what I would do next.
"You're sure you want to do this?" I asked, giving her one last chance to back
out.
"Yeah. As long as it doesn't hurt." she added with hindsight.
"OK. If you hear the front door open, or you hear your little brother, you stand
up and pull down your nightgown so no one can see you aren't wearing underwear."
"OK." she replied quickly.
"And if anything bothers you, you make sure to tell me right away and I'll
stop."
"OK." she replied quickly again.
Standing up I went and turned off the main overhead light, leaving only a small
table lamp and the television to illuminate the room. Walking to the couch, I
slowly knelt down by her feet and then took hold of her legs, carefully swinging
them up onto the couch. She flinched a bit when I touched her, but didn't
resist.
With a feeling in my stomach that could only be described as 'gut wrenching', I
ever so gently put my hands on each of her knees and started to push up the
frilly hem of her nightgown. Once it was just above her knees, I manoeuvred
myself onto the couch so I could lie down between her legs. Taking her left
foot, which was against the back of the couch, I carefully lifted it onto my
shoulder as I moved my head under the hem of her nightgown. She was breathing
much more deeply now, and no words were spoken as I moved my head in closer.
Looking down between her legs, I could see her vagina, hairless and innocent,
staring back at me. I shuddered as my mind was spinning in disbelief that I was
actually going to do this. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I leaned in
and slid my nose just slightly between the lips, gently nudging her clit. She
flinched a bit and I heard her gasp, so I stopped.
"Are you OK?" I asked with concern, wondering if this was too much for her to
handle.
"Yeah it's just... I'm OK." she replied in a bit of a disjointed fashion, but
clearly willing to continue.
Taking another deep breath I moved in again and lightly drew my tongue along the
outside of her lips. I then kissed gently a few times, as I felt her breathing
get even deeper. Slowly and deliberately, I pleasured her in the same way I
would have pleasured a grown woman. I did it that way since I didn't know what
else to do. It's not as if I had ever done this with anyone this young, not even
when I was a kid. Her right leg, which had been partially trapped underneath me,
was now being extracted as she swung it onto my back to join her left leg. She
started moaning, and between licks I asked, "Are you OK?"
"Yeah..." she purred weakly in response, so I resumed my efforts. After a few
minutes, I felt her hands casually cradle my head through her nightgown, and her
thighs started to twitch as I would occasionally flick my tongue over her clit.
I was trying to take this really slow, and she seemed to be handling it well. I
needed to get some air though, so I pushed her nightgown off my head and onto
her stomach. She briefly removed her hands to allow me to do it, and then
replaced her hands on my head when it was out of the way. At the same time, she
crossed her ankles on my back, while splaying her thighs slightly more open.
For my part, I was starting to relax a little bit, since I was petrified that
this might 'go bad quickly' and leave me explaining myself to the cops when her
parents got home. Instead I was trying to just forget how old she was, and
immerse myself in the moment. It's not as if I hated eating pussy. I'd be a liar
if I said I did. It wasn't what I was doing that bothered me; it was whom I was
doing it with.
It took a few more minutes, but I had finally become fully relaxed. I think it
was the environment that was doing it to me. The smell was so... mind numbing.
The scent of her nightgown and clean body was so out of place with what I would
expect to smell if I was going down on a woman. It's so hard to explain. Then
there were her secretions. While not copious, I found myself quickly seeking out
and consuming every single drop. I was getting hooked on this, and it was
quickly becoming overpowering. What was wrong with me?
Finally, I just gave in. The smells, the tastes, her moans, her legs gently
cradling my head and her hands weaving through my hair. I was hers now, and I
knew I would do anything to please her. In a way, it was scary for me, since I
had never felt this way before. Never in my life have I ever submitted myself to
someone. It's a very overwhelming feeling to give yourself over to anyone, let
alone a young girl. I felt emotionally exposed and completely vulnerable. For a
guy who is used to being the one 'in charge', this was an experience unlike
anything I had ever encountered before.
It took about fifteen minutes for her to have her first orgasm. It surprised the
heck out of me since I didn't know kids her age had orgasms. It may sound naive
of me, but I thought that didn't happen until they were older. However, there
was no mistaking her reaction. The moans, her undulating hips, the grip on my
head, the tension, and then the release as she came back to earth. I gave her
nether region a few final kisses and then lifted my head to look up at her. She
was positively glowing, and the look of bliss on her face was one that I will
never forget as long as I live.
"So how was it?" I asked, looking up for the first time since beginning to
please her.
"Oh my god that was amazing." she blurted in a single ragged breath, adding, "I
never knew anything could feel so good." once she caught her breath.
"Now do you understand why your dad was doing it to your mom?"
"Yeah." she replied with a smile, her hands still absent-mindedly weaving though
my hair.
I started to lift up, and she allowed her ankles to unlock from behind my back
to free me. As I sat up, I could see there was a small wet spot on her nightgown
underneath her bottom. I made a mental note to make sure that the spot wasn't
visible on the couch when she got up. Finding that I was unconsciously looking
'between her legs', I bashfully turned my head away and looked towards the
television. I was beginning to feel ashamed of myself. What kind of person would
do something like this to a young girl? I felt like a monster.
"Leslie?" she called me by name in a quiet voice.
Trying to hide my guilt-ridden face, I answered without turning to look at her,
"Yeah?"
"Could you... do that again?" she asked in what sounded like an odd mix of
hesitation and longing.
Her question forced me to look at her, and the look in her eyes made it
impossible to say no. It's not possible in words to describe her expression.
Even now, I find myself struggling to explain the combination of innocence and
desire she radiated. It was beyond words, and it totally shut down my logical
reasoning. How could I refuse her?
Let's be clear though, I wanted to say no. I'm dead serious. Despite everything
that had happened in those fifteen or so minutes, my gut was still very much
reminding me that I shouldn't have done this. It was screaming at me to just cut
and run. I even forced myself to look away from her again so I could attempt to
break the spell she seemed to have me under.
I should also mention that throughout the evening, never once did my mind seek
to achieve personal sexual release. Despite the intensity, I wasn't being
controlled by my own 'sexual urges'. It was never about me. I never once thought
about wanting to take this further and have intercourse, or to have her touch me
in any sexual way. My zipper stayed up and I wasn't even erect most of the time.
For me the intensity of this encounter was strictly an emotional one.
Since I hadn't rebuked her, she raised her left foot and gently rubbed it along
the side of my face before running her toes through my hair. "Please?" she
quietly added in a delicate voice.
I exhaled deeply, closed my eyes in concentration and struggled to maintain my
composure. My hands were quivering slightly, so I laced my fingers together in
my lap. Meanwhile she continued to lazily fondle my head with her foot. Although
I tried to resist, my willpower was draining away with each second her foot
touched me. Finally, I reconciled to myself that there was no way I could refuse
her. I just didn't have the mental strength. In a way, it was a relief, since it
was out of my hands now. "Let me get a towel first." I said as I stood up.
"OK." she replied with a dreamy look on her face.
Walking to the bathroom, I grabbed a hand towel from the linen closet, returning
to see that she hadn't moved on the couch. I passed the towel to her. "Put that
under your bum." Once she did, I proceeded to return to my position prostrated
before her.
With roughly two feet separating me from her pleasure center, I stopped. My gut
was trying one last time to reassert control over me, and my mind was adrift in
a sea of emotions that I was unable to reconcile. On the one hand, I was
emotionally driven to please her, on the other I was logically trying to
acknowledge the fact that she was only eleven years-old and it was morally wrong
to be doing this. The mental struggle was making my head spin.
With a serious and pained expression on my face, I looked her deep in the eyes
and asked, "Should I be doing this to you?" In retrospect, it was a bit of a
silly question to ask of her, but I was so completely lost, I just needed to
know that I was doing the right thing. While asking her was probably not the
best way to make a decision about this, I had no other alternatives.
She didn't answer me verbally; instead, she just smiled and nodded her head as
she brought her legs up onto my shoulders to pull me towards her. When I was
close enough, her hands joined her legs in directing me downwards. Once contact
was made, I closed my eyes and again submitted myself to her. I mean that in the
fullest sense of the word. All that mattered now was her pleasure. It was as if
we were in another world where only the two of us existed. We took our time, and
took breaks on occasion when we got tired. However, I would soon feel her heel
on the back on my neck as she pulled me back in, and I was powerless to resist.
I didn't even try.
After a series of orgasms, she had finally had enough. Gently pressing her hand
on my forehead, she pushed me back, breaking the connection between us.
I looked up at her and asked, "All done?"
She just smiled and nodded as she closed her eyes and laid her head back onto
the armrest of the couch, with a look of complete contentment on her face.
Pulling the damp towel out from underneath her, I gave her vagina a quick and
gentle wipe before I tossed the towel on the floor and carefully pulled down her
nightgown. Now standing, I reached down and lifted her up, cradling her gently
in my arms as I carried her up to her bedroom. The stairs creaked under the
added weight of her body with mine as I carefully climbed the staircase. Once in
her room, I laid her down on her bed and helped her get under the covers.
As I tucked her in, she quietly said my name one last time, "Leslie?"
"Yeah?" I replied in kind as I looked down into her eyes.
Her arms opened wide, seeking a hug. Bending down I gave her one, and she kissed
me ever so lightly on the cheek. "Thank you." she whispered in my ear before
letting me go.
I re-tucked her blankets and just smiled down to her, before quietly exiting the
room and leaving her to dream.
Once downstairs I took the towel and stuffed it deep in the hamper, hoping that
it wouldn't be noticed. Taking a can of air freshener from the top of the toilet
tank, I gave the room a short spray just to be on the safe side. After returning
the air freshener to the bathroom, I washed my face and used some mouthwash.
With no evidence left behind, I returned to the two-seater couch and sat down,
grabbing the remote. As I changed the channel to a network station, I was
floored to see the eleven o'clock news had just started. Were we doing it that
long?
I gave my head a shake and tried to refocus. My head was in the clouds, but I
still had that churning in my gut. It was all up to her now. My life was
literally in her hands. If she didn't keep the secret, my life was over.
It wasn't until just after one o'clock in the morning when Joseph, Miranda and
Fernando arrived back. I kept my good-bye short and sweet, since we were all
tired and I just wanted to go home.
The next day I was dreading the 'phone call' that told me they had found out
what I had done, but it never came. Over the next few weeks, I began to feel
more at ease about the secret being safe, even though I know I made a huge
mistake.
- - - - -
I didn't see Carolina until about six months later, at an anniversary party for
my dad and Eliza. When I spotted her, my gut started to do somersaults. Would
she hate me? Would she resent me for what I did to her?
Then our eyes met.
It's hard to describe a look, when it can convey so much in such a simple way.
When she smiled at me that day, her look told me that everything was fine, and
that she was OK with what happened. I can't explain it, but that one look
totally disarmed me, and took away any fears I had about being caught for what I
did. Despite feeling like a child molester, it was clear she didn't see me that
way. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
We didn't talk that day, since there was so much going on and so many people
around. All I know is that she looked like a changed girl. She seemed so much
more sure of herself than she did when I met her. It's really hard to describe.
In the end I'll never forget our special time together.
The end
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