Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8589331.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Original_Work
  Additional Tags:
      Original_Character(s), Original_Fiction, Sex, Underage_Sex, Hardcore,
      Ultra_Hardcore, Pedophilia, Orgasm, Older_Man/Younger_Woman, Childhood,
      Underage_-_Freeform, Sad
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-18 Completed: 2016-11-24 Chapters: 10/10 Words: 18413
****** Man and Child ******
by Hypello
Summary
     A man meets a young girl and their relationship develops. Sexually
     Explicit! Lots of sex! Please comment and tell me what you think!
     Completed! Thank you all for the Kudos and kind words!
     A sequel can now be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/
     8974762/chapters/20519530
***** The First Real Night Together *****
For a long time, Gloria sat staring into my eyes. Her expression drifted
around, starting at concerned, heading into thoughtful and ending up at
determination. Her tongue hurried around her lips nervously before she spoke
and when she did, a cool adulthood settled upon her child’s frame.
 
“Do you want to see me naked?” she asked.
 
I couldn’t answer right away. Both my shoulder angels were just as shocked as I
was. This girl, twelve years old, bright blonde hair and shockingly green eyes,
girl I’d spent so much time with up to this point, had just make a giant effort
to put herself across the same line I’d been working so hard myself not to
cross. The longer I hesitated, hemmed and hawed internally, the pinker her
cheeks grew. In the end, it was the deciding factor as there wasn’t anything as
adorable as her on the face of the earth at that very moment.
 
“I do.” I whispered, hoping to somehow sneak it by common morality. Her
shoulders relaxed away tension I hadn’t even noticed. She smiled, beautiful,
and not waiting any longer, crossed her arms to grab the bottom of her tee.
 
“Good.” she said, “I want to see you naked too.”
 
Her shirt came up and off. For the first time, dreams met reality. She was just
as perfect as I’d thought. The subtle roundness of her belly, the tender
smoothness of her skin, the curve of her ribs and the gentle shape of her
developing breasts and pale little nipples. Not once does she break eye
contact.
 
“Now you.” she says. For a moment I completely forget the world around me. The
simple salvation of her naked top half amazes me. The way the light settles
onto her skin, the way her chest moves as she breaths. The urge to move my
hands to cup her breasts is almost unbearable. When the echo passes over and I
hear her voice, I shake free to reality again and with just as much respect
remove my shirt. She too hesitates looking at me, but breaks the mold as her
hand travels to rest over my sternum. It’s so warm. As warm as the fires of
hell would be hot. I stop breathing when it touches me and thrills of hurried
joy chase down my spine.
 
“You can touch me.” she says, “I want you to.”
 
Like a nervous animal, my right hand begins to move. Across the space, I fight
away the urge to simple grope her and place my hand over her sternum. Her
softness amazes me. She smiles broadly.
 
“Can I tell you a secret?” she asks. I nod.
 
“I’ve wanted you to touch me for a long time.” she said, “I mean--touch me in
an adult way.”
 
She looked left and right, as though anybody else would be here. It was
adorable nonetheless.
 
“I watched a porn yesterday.” she said, “On my friend Margaret's tablet. I saw
what sex looked like and...I want to...maybe...you know….”
 
“Can I kiss you?” I asked her. It caught her off guard, a priceless reaction.
She inhaled sharply and swallowed down what must have been an avalanche.
Slowly, she nodded. I put a hand on her cheeks. They were cooked red and just
as hot. I leaned in close, slowly, carefully, gently, and kissed her. The world
ceased around us. The walls vanished and her and I were just two creatures in
the sky. No longer were we the thirty and twelve, but just angelic cries of old
creatures enjoying a salvation reserved only for holy beasts.
 
Her breath tasted amazing. Her lips were so damn soft. Near the end of the
kiss, I dared my tongue across her teeth. Her breathing had intensified. As I
pulled back she moved forward, just long enough to express a want for more.
 
“That felt so good.” she said. She was making fists.
 
“Amazing.” I said.
 
After a moment to gather, she uncurled her hands and took the waist of her
pajama pants. They slid down her legs, those beautiful legs, and kicked off a
few feet away. Her underwear was simple white with a tiny red ribbon on the
front. She looked at me expectantly. I pushed up on my feet to get my pants
down my legs, kicking them on top of hers. It should be no surprise that all of
this, aside from the emotion, had left me as hard as a rock and it became
suddenly apparent without the cover of pants. Gloria became fixated on my
crotch and the head poking through the slit in my boxers. She didn’t ask
permission to touch it and I didn’t even care to give it.
 
She used two fingers first to touch the head of it. Her hand looked impossibly
small next to me. I wasn’t the biggest in the world, fair enough, but her youth
made her just tiny to the touch. An electric thrill of simple pleasure ran
through me when she made contact. Her finger slid around it and it turned
surely into a grip. She just had her hand around the very top of it, no
pressure applied by the friction against the glans making me breath heavy.
 
“Does it hurt?” she asked, looking up at me. Her eyes were so pretty.
 
“No way.” I said, “It feels really good.”
 
She moved her hand down the shaft. My muscles clenched in a hard attempt not to
come. As she began to ascend again I took her wrist.
 
“Stop.” I said.
 
“Why?” she asked. Her eyebrows curved upwards, “Don’t you want to come?”
 
Listening to her voice, her twelve-year-old voice, speak so candidly about the
subject almost made me bust without anything else. Still breathing hard, I
forced myself to look into her eyes. She smiled coyly.
 
“I told you I watched a porn.” she said. Her other hand joined in and both
moved up and down me until the dam could no longer contain the flow. A surge of
pure primal pleasure burned through me. My muscles went tight and a spurt of
white cum blew out over my legs and her arms. She flinched back, shielding
herself as though it could be corrosive. Then returned with interest, examining
the cum on her arm with her index finger, as though it were jelly. She
carefully put a bit on her tongue. The sour expression that came next made me
laugh out loud.
 
“That’s so gross!” she said, spitting, “How did that lady in the porn drink
it?!”
 
“Let me go get you a towel.” I said. Gloria stood at a firm attention, pushing
me with both hands and shaking her head furiously.
 
“No, it’s okay!” she said, “Let’s keep going.”
 
Just looking at her body, at her underwear and breasts, was enough to bring
about another erection.
 
“What do you want to do next?” I asked her.
 
“I…” Gloria looked around for my hands, then took them and lead them to her
crotch, “I want you to make me feel good now.”
 
When I hesitated, she again became coy, “You know, I’ve masturbated before.”
 
That was enough. My left hand snaked around to cup her butt, that soft, amazing
butt and my right first rest on her belly, then slid down into her panties.
There is no way to accurately describe how soft she was. The human body is a
thing made of skin and tissues, something inherently soft, but this girl, this
child, was beyond that. Her skin was angelic and warm, oh, so warm. She watched
my hands as I touched her. My fingers explored around her lips. I used my thumb
to trace out the slit, resting on her clitorius just long enough to give pause
in her breathing. I debated whether or not to ask permission for what I was to
do next, but when she looked up at me, her eyes heavy with desire, her cheeks
still bright red, I stayed quiet.
 
Thumb on her clit, pinky on her taint, my index finger pushed open her lips and
found its way in. She was so hot inside. Hotter than I could ever imagine. My
body seized in pleasure, my dick trembling with anticipation. She let out a
sharp breath which transitioned into hard breathing. My thumb kept rubbing her
clit, my index finger slid out to the tip, then returned back in. She gripped
around me like a vice and with each penetration became a little wetter. She put
her hands on my shoulders. My hand on her butt wandered around, up her back,
across her chest. Her nipples were beginning to get hard. I gently squeezed her
amazing breasts, each one only as big as my palm.
 
As she got wetter, I increased the speed. Soon she was full on panting. My
finger slid in and out of her, my thumb continued to work the outside. She
lurched forward, hunching against the pleasure. I wrapped an arm around her to
pull her close. Faster and faster I went, the sound becoming wetter and wetter.
It was when I curved my finger up to touch the deepest part of her did she let
out her first moan and with it, her body went hard. She fell onto me, fingers
clawing into me. She clamped down on my finger and I could feel her orgasm
explode through her.
 
She hung like that for some time, teeth clenched. When she looked back up at
me, it was with a smile I doubt has been so amazing. We kissed again, deeper
this time and with her tongue touching mine. There was a long silence. She
rested her head on my shoulder during it. Her body heat was just as pleasurable
as the rest of her. Eventually, god knows how long it was, she stood up again
to look at me.
 
“I want to have sex.” she said.
 
“So do I.” I told her.
 
Just like that she slipped out of her underwear. I pulled off mine. We looked
at each other’s naked bodies. She was the pinnacle of pre-teen beauty. Those
developing breasts, the round little belly, her knobby knees and amazingly
smooth skin. The way her pussy was so smooth, so perfect in shape and size.
 
“How do you want to do it?” I asked her. She considered the question, looking
me up and down. She didn’t say anything in response, she simply acted. She
straddled up onto me. The heat of her vagina radiated as it got close to my
dick. Excitement mounted and I could have cum then and there.
 
“Are you sure?” I asked her, “It might be harder like this.”
 
“I can put as much in as I want.” she said, “Don’t worry.”
 
She kissed me again and I didn’t worry at all. A little rational part of me
wondered if I should get a condom, but that thought was destroyed when the tip
of my dick met the softness of her lips. She had stabilized herself with her
hand on my shoulders. I gripped her butt with both hands. Exploring with my
fingers I could feel her butthole and how it tightened and relaxed. I almost
put a finger in, but decided not today.
 
She was concentrating on my dick. She looked at the space between it and
herself, eventually deciding the best course. She aligned the two with her
hands. A smile to me, another kiss, then she pushed me inside.
 
The universe is nothing but pleasure. I lost the ability to breath in this new
world. It’s a place devoid of anything human. Just a cosmos of ancient, primal
joy. Even though it was just the head that sat inside of her, the sheer
amazement of it made me cease to be me. Her insides were so hot, so bumpy and
wonderful. The expression on her face, the bright-red look of both pain and
wonderment was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen. How her stomach became
concave or her ribcage beneath her breasts, nipples fully erect.
 
I took a breast in my hand, let the nipple bump across my fingers. This brought
a squeal from her and I couldn’t help but do it again. Her hips were shaking.
She pushed down a little more, devouring me just that much. It took everything
I was not to come. Moisture slid down my cock. She pushed down again, wincing
and moaning at the same time. She’d gone to her limit. Her pussy was spread
wide around me. It was a pearly pink and heat-colored red. She turned up to
meet my eyes.
 
“We-We’re having sex.” she stammered.
 
“Does it feel good?” I asked.
 
“So good.” she said, “So much better than anything ever.”
 
Slowly, she rose. We both began to breath hard. I started to internally yell,
don’t you come. She moaned as she pushed back down, as did I. Her voice was
amazing. The sharp breathing, the moaning, the little squeaks and squeals of
joy as I explored her body with my hands. It didn’t take too long before we
found a comfort zone and she was sliding up and down with ease. She kept a slow
speed, slow to me, at least. To her it must have been piston-fast. She closed
her eyes to experience it and nearly screamed when I began to both suck on her
breasts and thumb her clit. The sound of wet squelching, moaning and heavy
breathing filled the apartment. It smelled like sweat and come.
 
“I’m coming soon.” she said and thank god. I was right at my limit and
literally digging wounds into my legs to keep myself from exploding before her.
I pulled her close to me and thrust up into her, an action just enough to make
her scream for real. Her body went taut, her teeth slammed together. Her nails
dug into my back and her toes stretched out. I was holding a twelve-year-old
girl as she had the biggest orgasm in her life. When it finished she sucked in
air like she’d been underwater and started panting hungrily for it.
 
“Can I come inside you?” I asked her. She put on a sour face when she looked at
me.
 
“Don’t you fucking take it out.” she said. I smiled, grabbed her by the hips
and with finality, lifted her to the top of my dick and slammed her down as far
as she could go. She opened her mouth in a silent scream and I came. I came for
what felt like years. The liquid pleasure poured into me, overflowing with hot
fire across every bit of my skin. I was no longer human, no longer alive, but
simply ecstasy incarnate.
 
She collapsed onto me, head on my shoulder. She was breathing just as hard as
I. She shifted her legs to wrap around me. During this, my dick slid out of
her. Cum flung to the ground and seeped out of her, down her legs. I can’t even
tell you how much time passed. Nor do I care.
 
“Let’s do that every day.” she said when words returned. We were both human
again. This beautiful twelve-year-old creature on my lap, naked, full of my
cum. She’d had two orgasms tonight.
 
“My legs are shaking.” she said.
 
“It’ll be okay.” I told her.
 
“I’ll have to tell my mom I went for a really long run.” she said. I laughed.
 
“You’re amazing.” I told her. She was still so red I couldn’t tell if she
blushed or not, “Do you want to take a shower?”
 
“I do.” she said. She kissed me again before climbing down. She gathered up her
clothes and headed for the bathroom. I sat for a while before following her.
Standing in the door, I watched her through the frosted glass, her tiny shape
standing under the water, hands busy cleaning. She stepped up a leg to put the
shower head against her crotch to wash out my mess inside.
 
“Can I stick my finger in your butt next time?” I asked her. She slid open the
shower door just enough to show me her skeptical expression.
 
“Only if I can put my finger in yours.” she said.
 
“Deal.” I told her and together we laughed.
***** The Second Night, Part One *****
Gloria would normally show up at my door around nine-thirty at night on my days
off. Her mother, she explained, worked the night shift and was gone until six
the next morning. Before meeting me, she was spending her summer vacation as a
couch potato or holed up in bed mindlessly watching YouTube or texting her
friends. Our meeting, fateful as it was, deviated her to my apartment where we
would play board games, watch television and crack jokes and as of yesterday
have amazing sex.
 
Today she showed up in a white tee and shorts. The kind of girl shorts that
stop mid-thigh. She smiled brightly when I answered and entered the apartment
as though she’d lived there all her life. She stepped out of her shoes before
entering the carpeted living room.
 
“I ordered a pizza.” I said. She gave me a concerned look over her shoulder.
 
“No onions.” I said, palms up. Another smile and she sat flop on the couch. I
sat next to her. She shifted around so her legs spread over my lap. Her socks
went up past her ankle and were bright blue with yellow flowers. I could see
her toes wiggle. She had her hands over her belly, her head propped up on the
armrest.
 
“Do you want to play a game?” I asked. No answer. Her expression was blank.
 
“How about a movie?” I offered. Nothing still.
 
“Do you like butt play?” she asked, breaking her nonchalance as though it had
been a loading screen. I coughed through a sudden laugh.
 
“Where did that come from?”
 
“Yesterday you asked if you could put your finger in my butt. I thought it was
kinda weird so I watched a porn video about it.”
 
“And?”
 
“The guy in the video seemed to like it. The girl didn’t really.”
 
“Do...do you like it?”
 
Gloria pursed up her lips, “I never put anything in my butt.”
 
“I see.”
 
“You didn’t answer my question.” said Gloria, “Do you like butt play?”
 
“Oh…I don’t know…” I hemmed. I was pretty ambivalent on it, not something I
ever strove for but something I didn’t really dislike, either. Gloria was
clearly unsatisfied with my middling. She huffed and flipped herself over,
tucking her knees and shaking her butt around.
 
“Do...you...like...this?” she asked in time to her rhythm. I smirked.
 
“I like your butt.” I said. I reached out and playfully slapped it. Her
movement ceased. For a moment I was worried I’d hurt her, but the look on her
face had changed to a serious contemplation. Her tongue worked around her lips.
 
“Take a look at it, then.” she said.
 
I hesitated, turning to look at the front door.
 
“Just until the pizza guy gets here.” she said.
 
I turned to face her butt. My fingertips tucked under the waistband of her
shorts. Both the fabric and skin were equally as soft. A thrill ran through my
body as both her shorts and underwear slid down to her knees, exposing her bare
butt before me. Her perfect little pussy was there too. Like examining a fine
stone, I moved my palm over each cheek, then with my thumbs inward, spread them
to reveal her actual hole. It was as clean and as perfect as the vagina that
neighbored it. It twitched a little as my hands approached it.
 
“Are you sure?” I asked her. She nodded.
 
A half-inch before penetration, I reeled back. I swished my finger around in my
mouth, glossing it over with saliva. It returned towards his butt with the same
determination. Her asshole was just as tight as her pussy, if not more. She
made a noise as I pushed my finger up to the first knuckle, then a small cry as
I went down to the base. When I leaned to look at her face, it was bright red
and her teeth were grit hard together. I carefully, and quickly, removed myself
from her.
 
“That wasn’t nice at all.” she said, gingerly touching her butthole, “It just
felt like a really bad poop. It hurt.”
 
“Maybe you just have to get used to it.” I said. She made a displeased sound,
“Try relaxing some more.”
 
“I was relaxed.”
 
“Relax more then.” I said, “Take a deep breath in and out.”
 
She did. The second time in lasted a few minutes and I’d moved my finger in and
out twice before she grunted in pain. As I withdrew, she sat up next to me,
squirming her butthole on the sofa.
 
“It felt a little good kinda.” she said.
 
I thought about it, striking a pose like a detective cluing together his big
case. The most obvious thing to come to the front of my mind was lubricant. I’d
tried with saliva but it didn’t seem to be enough so maybe in the future...it
was a shame I didn’t have any on-hand. I opened my eyes and was face-to-face
with Gloria, who’d parked herself close enough so I could smell the peppermint
on her breath. She kissed me. It was as amazing as always. As it intensified,
she crawled over onto my lap, legs akimbo around me.
 
She began to breathe erratically as my hands started exploring her body. I slid
up her shirt to grab her breasts and gently roll her nipples between my
fingers. I went between her legs and my middle finger found its way inside of
her. I had learned from yesterday. I hooked up the end of my finger to hit her
sweet spot, bringing out a wonderful reaction. She shivered with pleasure,
throwing back her head and letting growls of bundled joy from her nose and
between her teeth.
 
I kissed her neck, licked down to the hem of her shirt. I rolled it up over her
breasts, sucked on her nipples, hard in my mouth. I ventured forth, adding my
index finger alongside the middle. It was too much for her. Wrapping herself
around me, she buried herself into my chest to ride out her climax. Her juices
flooded across our legs. She moaned as I pulled my fingers out. It was just us
and our heavy breathing.
 
“You’re so good at it.” she panted.
 
“Not really.” I said, “You’re just really sensitive.”
 
There was a knock at the door. Both Gloria and I looked at one another. She
flew to her feet, pulling her shorts back around her hips and scurrying off to
the bathroom. I straightened up and went to get the pizza. I opened it on the
kitchen counter and called an all-clear for Gloria, who came back out looking
worried.
 
“My pants are all wet.” she said, “I think I peed a little when I came.”
 
“It happens.” I said, “Have some pizza.”
 
---
 
I set up a fan in the window, blinds closed around it, and hung both Gloria’s
shorts and underwear to dry on the back of a chair in front of it. She sat
bottomless, cross-legged in front of me on the floor as I sat on the couch.
We’d eaten our fill of pizza.
 
“Do you like things in your butt?” asked Gloria. I shook my head.
 
“No thank you.”
 
“But you like playing with butts?”
 
I shrugged, “Kinda-sorta.”
 
“What else do you like?”
 
Looking down at Gloria, this twelve-year-old beauty, half-naked and abundant
with hormones, the answer came pretty quickly.
 
“Blowjobs.” I said. Gloria stuck out her tongue.
 
“Yuck.” she said.
 
“You’ve never even tried doing it.”
 
“I’ve never eaten poop before either.” she said, “But I know I won’t like it.”
 
“Will you try it for...me?” I ask, putting on a saccharine smile. She rolled
her eyes. Hesitant, she pulled up onto her knees. She gave me a skeptical look
before waddling over. I jimmed my shorts to my ankles, letting loose the
tremendous hard-on I’d had since fingering her off. She looked at it like it
was an upcoming doctor’s shot. With a deep breath, she gripped the base and,
eyes shut, stuck the head in her mouth.
 
It was warm, sticky and wet. Not unlike her pussy. Her tongue added a whole
different dimension and the pleasure was sharp, like a surgical strike against
each varying vein, instead of the whole-body affair intercourse offered. I
rubbed the top of her head, breathing hard through my nose as she twisted her
head around to apply suction. I could feel my load start to rise, a bullet
chambered and the wick beginning to burn down. Near the apex, she pulled back,
flicking her tongue about like an upset snake.
 
“It’s gross!” she spat, “It tastes so bad! There’s this gross juice coming
out!”
 
“I’m...sorry.” I said, working by the sudden blue balls, “You don’t have to do
it anymore.”
 
She looked reproachfully at my dick, “But you’re not done yet.”
 
“Just use your hand.” I said.
 
So she did. Both hands on the shaft, up and down, working carefully near the
top and within two minutes I was done. She let out a shriek and side-stepped as
much of the blast as she could. Most of the cum landed on the carpet, but a
little bit spattered her cheek. She gagged, grabbing the hem of my shirt and
wiping it off.
 
“You know.” I said, “I came inside you yesterday. Why doesn’t that gross you
out?”
 
“I didn’t have to see it or smell it or anything!” she said, “I just washed it.
It’s so gross!”
 
I laughed, then stood to go get a towel. As I wiped it up she sat looking
thoughtfully at the back of her hand. With an expression I can only describe as
determination, she lowered her tongue onto the slick of it. A shiver passed
over her.
 
“You don’t have to force yourself.” I told her.
 
“I just want to be better at it.” she said, “You make me feel so good and I...I
get grossed out. It’s not fair.”
 
I kissed the top of her head, “All in good time, then.” I said.
 
“I guess.” she smiled, “Can I have a real kiss?”
 
“Of course.”
 
I leaned it to deliver and was met with the back of her hand. My tongue touched
the salty-slimy slick of cum. It tasted like rotten copper. I too gagged and as
I wretched, Gloria began to laugh. A long, hearty laugh that I couldn’t help
but join in as our night wore on.
***** The Second Night, Part Two *****
Our night went on as usual, a pleasant mix of video games, television and
conversation. Gloria had brought over course book she'd been given for her next
school term and it was a glossy, high-finance thing. She attended St.
Maydell's, a private school down on sixth and twelve. She was proud of her
education, not only because she as attentive to her future, but because it was
the result of her mother's life-long labors to be able to afford such a place.
 
“I'm thinking about try some AP classes.” she said, sitting casually with her
hands behind her head, “Probably just English and Chem.”
 
“Chemistry, huh.” I said, thumbing through the book. There were a lot of
courses, well over a hundred. Each heading had a variety of sub-sections. I
found chemistry under science and read off the prerequisites for the AP class.
Gloria smirked, waving a hand in fake modesty. She was sitting in my easy
chair, still half-nude. Her shorts and underwear were on the back of her chair.
 
“I got all A's in those classes already.” she said. I raised my eyebrows at her
and she blushed.
 
“Okay, one C. But that was because I missed some classes because I was sick.”
 
“You're a smart girl.” I said. Too smart maybe to be having such brazen sex
with a schmuck like me, “I didn't do nearly this well in middle school. I
didn't even take chemistry.”
 
“It's a lot of fun.” said Gloria, “I like learning about what makes what and
how stuff mixes.”
 
I couldn't help by smile. I kept reading through the course listings, checking
the descriptions of the ones that interested me.
 
“I have to pee.” said Gloria. She brushed my knees with her hand as she walked
by. A question sprouted up as I finished reading, and looking up lost track of
where Gloria had gone. I trailed her to the bathroom, leaning open the door.
She gasped as I stepped in, squeezing her knees together and covering her chest
needlessly with her arms. Common sense returned from the vacation my attention
to her book at afforded it and I turned sharply behind me.
 
“Sorry.” I said, “I, uh...I wasn't thinking.”
 
“You just surprised me, that's all.” said Gloria, “You don't have to look
away.”
 
I peered at her in my peripherals, then carefully turned to look. She was
sitting on the toilet with her knees together, feet apart. She was leaning on
her arms crossed over her lap. She was smiling coyly.
 
“What's your question?” she asked.
 
I popped my lips a few times, “I'll wait until you're done.”
“Wait.” said Gloria, catching me just as I stepped through the door. I leaned
my head back in.
 
“Do you wanna watch?” she asked.
 
“Watch what?” I asked.
 
“Watch me pee.” she said. Her smile grew bigger, “That's why you came in here,
right? Pretending to just want to ask a question.”
 
“That's not it at all.” I said, “I actually did want to ask you a question.”
 
Her playful smile resonated an aura that floated about like a butterfly. I
watched as it did a circle and landed on my nose, dissipating the minuscule bit
of annoyance I'd worked up. Good humor returned. I crossed my arms
authoritatively and stood sternly in front of Gloria.
 
“Since I'm here.” I said, “I might as well see.”
 
“I didn't even pee even a little yet.” she said, “You came in at the right
time.”
 
Slowly, Gloria parted her knees. Her vagina was just as smooth as the rest of
her, a peachy-pink slit with an round little clitoris at the top. Both me and
her watched it intently. A stream of clear urine appeared from the bottom,
pouring into the toilet. It went on for a lot longer than I'd expect, she must
have been holding it for a good while. When the stream ceased, I returned to
eye contact and found her blushing furiously.
 
“It's kind of embarrassing to have somebody watch me pee.” she said.
 
I was going to tell her that watching was her idea, but the redness in her
cheeks made me hold back. Shoulders hunched a bit, she unrolled a few squares
of toilet paper and cleaned herself.
 
“Do you...want to watch me pee?” I asked, “To make things even?”
 
She made a weird face, “Not really.”
 
“Then...” a sudden urge burst into thought, like a sudden hunger, “Then can I
eat you out?”
 
“Eat me?” asked Gloria. She'd closed her knees again.
 
“I want to lick your vagina.” I said.
 
“Oh!” Gloria clapped once, “Yeah! I watched somebody do that in that porn!
Okay!”
 
She started to get up, but I gently pushed her back into place. Her eyebrows
rose.
 
“I want to do it here.” I said. The location was a part of the allure, a part
of the urge.
 
“On the toilet?!” she asked.
 
“I really want to.” I said.
 
Gloria thought about it for a moment, “I...guess so...”
I dropped the booklet and knelt down before Gloria. I took her knees in my
hands, kissing her gently before pulling them apart. Her pussy called to me,
radiated a splendor that drew me in like a sunset would an artist. I hovered
over the toilet bowl as I pulled towards her. I wash of relief came over me as
my tongue met her skin. It was so damn soft, with a layer of peach fuzz so fine
it was undetectable by any other means. A little bit of the acrid taste of
urine remained, but was mostly overpowered by the taste of her skin. My hands
steadied myself on her thighs.
 
I started around her lips, going out as far to the pelvis and returning to the
clit. I kissed around, provided suction where I could and let my tongue do
everything else. I had to lower myself a little further to get it near her
hole, breaching her lips with my tongue. It was as hot as ever inside of her,
tasted as beautiful as she looked. Her breathing sped up, yet maintained a
steady pace. I worked around her entrance, teased inside and went up and down
her slit. I made a pattern and adhered to it.
 
“Let's have sex.” she said, suddenly. It was so blunt, it knocked me back from
her. I turned up to look. Her cheeks had returned to rosy. She had on her
serious expression, the cross from a child to an adult ready for what she
wanted. I swallowed, still tasting her.
 
“That feels good but I just want to have sex.” she said.
 
“Right here?” I asked. My hunger for her had been satiated. She nodded curtly.
I sat up straight and she stepped off the toilet. She spread out on the wall,
as though I was a police officer ready to give her the frisk. Her feet were
spread. Her butt cheeks pulled apart slightly and her pussy shimmered with
moisture from not only me, but her own ambitions. I had my dick out before even
getting to my feet. I grabbed her by the hips and pressed my head against her
butt. She took me with a hand and guided me inside. It was our second time
having sex. Unlike the first, I was in control here. I vowed quickly to not
betray that power. I pushed into her only as much a I did yesterday.
 
She took in a deep breath. On the exhale she moaned and dropped her head. As I
pulled out to ready another thrust, her hips followed me back, chasing the
source. I pushed hard, crossing the watermark and going deeper than ever. She
barked a half-scream, half-inhale. Her fingers clawed the walls.
 
“Was that too much?” I asked her.
 
“Too much.” she said. I withdrew, returning to a depth I knew acceptable. In
and out I went, each time getting tighter, wetter. She closed around me in a
way only a girl her age could. Her youth created a vacuum of sheer joy. She was
breathing hard, hard enough make her torso shake. Her head was down, arms still
up against the wall. She was up on her toes, both to match my height and to
combat the ecstasy coursing through her.
 
My hands found her breasts. They hung freely, despite their size. Her nipples
were hard, reactive to the touch. I squeezed them between my fingers, harder
than yesterday and got only pleasurable moans in response. My eyes wandered to
her butthole, tight now in the moment. I almost did it, but was stopped when
she began a scream and cut it short with the breathlessness of orgasm. I pulled
her off her feet to dig a littler deeper, hoping to curve into her sweet spot
and I must have because the scream returned. She slapped the walls. She kicked
back flat-footed, with the action just coarse enough to pull me from inside of
her. The timing was perfectly awful, as I came just as I exited and blasted
sticky cum all over her backside. It missed her shirt, thankfully. Her head
jerked up and she looked back at me.
 
“Oh, fucking gross!” she said. She waggled her butt angrily, “I can't believe
you did that!”
“It's not my fault!” I said, “You moved in weird way and pulled me out!”
 
“Gosh!” still bent over, she tugged off her shirt and did a strange half-bow
walk around me to the shower. She slid the door open and clambered inside,
turning on the water and letting it clean my mess off her back. I sat on the
toilet and watched. For a good ten minutes we sat in silence. She cleaned her
back and then the rest of her, taking a few moments in the heat of the shower.
 
“What was it you wanted to ask me?” she said, “I mean before.”
 
I looked at the course book still on the floor.
 
“I didn't know that St. Maydell’s went all the way to twelfth grade. I was just
wondering if you were going to go all the way there.”
 
“My mom says I am.” said Gloria, “I want to too.”
 
“That’s good.”
 
“Maybe one day I’ll wear my uniform to show you.” said Gloria. The offer really
did sound appetizing. I slipped the book under my arm and stood to pee. As soon
as I’d started, the shower door opened and Gloria peeked her head out to watch.
I gave her a smirk and side-stepped to give her a better view. I gripped my
dick by the base. It was still hard enough to be handled this way.
 
“Now we’re even.” I said to her. She rolled her eyes.
 
“Not until I cum on your back.” she said before returning to the shower. I
laughed. I finished up, washed my hands and sat flop on the couch. After she
was done, Gloria inspected her drying clothes and determined them wearable. She
hopped into them and joined me, snuggling close. It was only midnight.
Typically, Gloria would stay with me until about two or three, then return to
her upstairs apartment to either sleep or do whatever until her mother came
home. Tomorrow I had off, but the next day was work, so that meant that tonight
would be the last night for five days we’d be together. I sat in the silence,
the universe suddenly created for me and her and enjoyed the time. I took
pleasure in listening to her breath, to feeling her weight on me. Eventually
we’d fade into some other activity but for now we just floated along in a
beautiful silence and I couldn’t have been happier.
***** The First Look Back *****
Routine:
 
Wake up at seven in the morning, shower, deodorant, brush teeth then leave. On
my half-hour walk to work I stop by a local coffee shack and get a double
espresso and a bear claw, both of which are gone by the time I arrive. Then I
work for eight hours and after that I reverse the tape and walk back home.
Sometimes I stop by the also-local grocery, but more often than not I already
have something for dinner in the house. Lately, however, ever since a small
animal named Gloria has taken up residence in my home, my need to grocery shop
after work has increased.
 
After I get home, I dip around for a few hours and then typically go to sleep.
I much rather have a lot of extra sleep than a lot of extra fatigue. This is my
life. Before Gloria it was mundane. After Gloria, it remains mundane but much
more interesting.
 
Gloria.
 
The time now is three in the afternoon. Just an hour away from freedom. Even my
job isn’t anything beyond ‘boring’, just a matchstick of a man stuck behind a
video rental counter. One of the last in the country, management keeps saying,
a dying breed. Business seems to be pretty good, though. No matter the day of
the week there’s always a steady crowd just hungry for a DVD rental of Blues
Brothers. It’s Monday already, already three days since I last saw Gloria. Yes-
-working weekends is mandatory in the high-impact field of DVD rentals. She
knows my schedule too and we both play to it. I once asked if she had a cell
phone and almost got her number before, and god bless, her smarts kicked in and
reminded us that maybe evidential communication wouldn’t be that great an idea.
 
I find myself wondering if she misses me. I do miss her. It’s not just the sex,
either, though that turned out to be pretty amazing. We’d be hanging out for a
long while before that.
 
Oh, Gloria…
 
Doors closed, time circuits on: let’s go back a bit. Back about four months.
Just when Spring planted a flag in the corpse of Winter and shot summer some
signal flares. It was a night off for me, which without Gloria was a spectacle
of single-player games and falling asleep to infomercials. That and laundry.
Doing laundry at the god-knows-when hours was so much easier. Nobody was awake,
the machines were always empty and there wasn’t any rush to clear them or have
them cleared.
 
So, basket in hand, I traversed the long hall down to the laundry room. My
apartment, like the laundry room, was on the bottom floor. Damn near basement
level. I noticed the light was on already, a poor sign, and shouldered into it
anyway. A single washer was whirring away, twenty-two minutes left. Content
again that I’d not be rushed, I packed away my clothes into a washer and paid
it to start. When I turned to leave, I saw her. She was sitting cross-legged on
the big folding table behind swing of the door. In pajama pants and a tee shirt
with a shooting star on it, she had her hair pulled into a knotty tail and was
flipping through something on her phone.
 
There’s no such thing as love at first sight, I don’t think, but I couldn’t
help but feel something anyway. Much like feeling a cool breeze during a
sweltering day, seeing her sitting there in the laundry room was like
understanding something different in my life, but only for a second. I didn’t
stand and stare, though my quick look felt like I did. She looked up anyway,
simply glancing from the tops of her eyes. We exchanged the most polite of
smiles.
 
Speed ahead twenty-two minutes. Well, twenty-four if you factor in the walk to
the laundry room. She was still sitting on the folding table, this time with
her legs straight out in front of her. She was now stabbing at her phone with
her index fingers, the sounds coming from it indicating some sort of rhythm
game. I switched my laundry into a dryer, paid it up and left. She didn’t get a
chance to smile this time.
 
The dryer takes a little longer to get done, about an hour. Speed ahead to
that, past my sad-man snack of half a block of cheddar and to me back in the
laundry room. I make a line to the dryer and gather everything up in my arms,
moving slowly as I turn to avoid putting anything clean on the floor. Gloria
this time is sitting again cross-legged, dutifully folding her clothes out in
front of her. She’s holding up a pair of short-shorts when we make eye contact.
Once more, polite smiles and I head for the door.
 
“If you don’t fold them they get really wrinkly.” she says. I freeze at the
door, leaning backwards to peer around to her.
 
“Excuse me?” I say.
 
“Your clothes. If you just make a ball like that they stay all wrinkly. You
gotta fold ‘em.”
 
She squared up her shorts on a stack next to her and turned up a sweet smile my
way. My mouth, of course, went dry.
 
“I like my clothes wrinkly.” I said.
“If you say so.” she said, “You do kinda look like a weirdo that would like
that.”
 
“You’re a weirdo.” I shot back, acting on the instincts remaining from grade
school, “Folding laundry at this time of night. Don’t you have school
tomorrow?”
 
“It’s summer vacation.” she said smugly, shaking her head.
 
“So soon?”
 
“My school’s vacation is May to August.”
 
“Pretty lucky.”
 
She held up a pleated skirt and folded it over her lap, “Why are you doing
laundry so late?”
 
“No competition.” I said.
“Me too.” said Gloria, “I mean, I do it now for that reason too.”
 
“Cool.” I said, probably the least cool way to end a conversation, “Well, have
fun folding.”
 
“Have fun being wrinkly.” she said.
 
“I will, thank you.”
 
And that was it. I left her to her devices and returned to my apartment. I
threw my clothes on my bedroom floor, right in the spot designated for clean.
Arms crossed, I looked down at the pile, then shook my head and returned to
regularly scheduled programming. About half an hour later, there was a knock at
my door. I whipped around in my chair. It not only snapped me out of the
television haze I’d fallen into, but sent a thrill of worry through me. Who
would be knocking at my door at two-thirty in the morning? It knocked again as
I approached, a hurried little triple-beat, almost adorable if a knock could be
as such.
 
I didn’t know what I was expecting to see on the other side, but Laundry Room
Gloria wasn’t it. I didn’t know her name back then, she was just a blond little
girl with a cute smile. She stood in the door with her hands behind her back,
bobbing on her heels. Her demeanor was as if she knew full well I’d answer her
call.
 
“Can I help you?” I asked. With a grin, she presented me with a single long
sock. I recognized it as one of mine.
 
“You dropped this.” she said.
 
“T-thanks.” I reached out to take it, “How did you know it was mine?”
 
“I watched you walk down the hall.” she explained, “After you took your
wrinkle-ball from the dryer. I was worried you might drop something and you
did.”
 
“I see. Well, thank you very much.”
 
“You didn’t fold your clothes anyway, did you?” she asked. I shook my head. She
gave a reproachful smile. Spinning on her heel, she turned towards the nearby
stairwell door.
 
“Have a good wrinkle.” she said before vanishing through it.
 
Let’s take a break here and return to present time, present day. From my
daydreams I blink free. Head in my hands, hunched over the counter, I’m looking
through the big glassy storefront out to the highway. On the other side of the
street there’s a strip mall. Traffic is at a slow trickle this time of day.
Inside, there’s only two people browsing DVDs. I check my phone. It’s three-
thirty. The next guy on shift should be showing up soon.
 
As I stare out across the highway, I see a store that’s always been there but
under these specific circumstances of memorial daydreams and a new life with
Gloria, suddenly came into sharp focus. It was a sex store. They didn’t call it
that, of course. It was called ‘Sarah’s Lingerie and Novelties’, but everybody
knew what they meant. When I first moved into this part of town it was a laugh
that I was so close to such a place. I’d never even seen a sex shop before in
my life. I’d never been in there, of course, but looking at it now really
piqued interest.
 
Half-an-hour more, huh? Let’s go back in time again, then. From my initial
meeting with Gloria, let’s travel forward to the next night. Without any
laundry to do, I was just sat alone in my apartment watching infomercials and
occasionally checking my email. My life was pretty droll and still is outside
of you-know-who. The time was one-twenty-six in the morning. I remember it
because I looked at my phone just as the minute clicked over and when it did,
there was a knock at my door. The same adorable knock as the night prior.
 
I couldn’t see anything through the peephole--wait, if I stood on my tiptoes
and angled down I could see a fish-eyed head of yellow hair. I slowly opened
the deadbolt and revealed Gloria in the wait. She was wearing fleece pajama
pants and a simple green tee. Her hair was freed, long enough to just cover her
ears.
 
“Hi.” she said.
 
“Hello.”
 
“What’re you up to?” she asked. I shrugged.
 
“Just watching television.”
 
“Oh.” Gloria nodded through the awkwardness, “Do you wanna maybe hang out?”
 
“Me and you?” I asked.
 
“Y-yeah.”
 
“Is that okay? Also, it’s really late and…”
 
“My mom is at work.” said Gloria, “And I’m really awake.”
 
Doubt began to circle my waters of judgement. I squatted down to her level,
“Maybe it’s not okay to ask men twice your age to hang out really late at
night.”
 
“Twice?” she said, “How old are you?”
 
“How old are you?” I returned.
 
“Twelve.”
 
“I’m thirty.” I said.
 
“That’s not twice.” said Gloria, “That’s...uh...like one and a half.”
 
I stood, “You should probably just go home.”
 
“It’s so boring there!” she complained, “All my friends are either asleep or
too far away. I don’t have anything to do.”
 
She casually tilted herself to look past me and into the apartment.
 
“Are you watching commercials?” she asked. I didn’t answer.
 
“You must be as bored as me!” she said.
 
I scrutinized her. She was standing in her typical Gloria pose, though back
then I wouldn’t know what anything typical about her was. She had her hands
behind her back, her legs crossed at the knees. She was still looking in at my
TV. She was a real pretty kid, I couldn’t deny it. It wasn’t like I was
attracted to children or anything--but then again, looking at how things turned
out…
 
“Are you hungry?” I asked. I noticed how strikingly green her eyes were when
she looked up at me. They shimmered like water.
 
“Sorta.”
 
“I’m going to go to that Denny’s down the street. You want to--”
 
“Come with you!? Yes!” she clapped her hands together, “Let me go get ready.
I’ll be right back.”
“Wait!” She stopped in the doorway to look back.
 
Recalling this story four months later, I find it hard to believe that I waited
this long to ask what I asked next.
 
“What’s you name?” I asked.
 
“Gloria.” she said, “I’m Gloria. Who are you?”
 
I told her my name. She came back to me and stuck out a hand. I shook it. Her
grip was surprisingly tight.
 
“I’ll be right back.” she said again, “Don’t leave without me!”
 
Let’s fade back to the present-day again. Time travel is always possible, so we
can return to that night sometime in the future. Right now, let’s focus on me
being in Sarah’s sex shop. My shift had ended and I’d taken the perilous trip
across the highway on foot. Usually I’d go home the other way on a safe route
of side-streets and footpaths.
 
Sarah’s was a lot bigger than I’d thought. Like a showroom for deviance. There
was a wall of various dildos and strap-ons just a few feet after entering and
the shelves beneath them were stocked with lube. That was my first visit. I
browsed the various bottles and tubes with extreme scrutiny, reading
ingredients and weights. I settled on a bottle of warming lube and one of
regular, both water-based.
 
I walked through the lingerie fairly quickly, as I doubted they would sell any
neglige for twelve-year-olds. Past it was a selection of vibrators, which again
I took some time browsing. I settled on a simple pink facsimile of a penis,
complete with glans and veins, that had a black turn-dial on the base to adjust
speed. I looked up over the shelves to see one of the clerks stocking a shelf
in the next aisle. We made eye contact and only then did I feel the burn of
embarrassment. I forced a smile and hurried off to another section.
 
All told, I spent an hour inside. I got through payment fairly quick and
couldn’t help but wonder what those clerk-girl’s reactions would have been if
they’d known I was buying most of these very adult toys for a very twelve-year-
old girl. This notion made me smile, actually. I jammed my purchases into my
backpack, thank god I brought it today, and began the long walk home. The late-
day sun was sunflower yellow with the world’s shadows beginning to stretch away
from it. My next day off wasn’t for two days and already the anticipation was
killing me.
***** Dinner Date *****
Not much happened in two days. My routine wore on, a shuffling existence
between work and home. My days without Gloria are exactly as they were before I
knew her. Well, maybe except that I think about her. The mechanics are all the
same, even if the appearance is not. Before I even realize it, it’s Thursday
already. I sleep in pretty late, crawling out bed around noon--which again, is
typical of a non-work day.
 
I go for a walk around the city, listening to music and sticking to places
without much traffic. It invigorates me enough to stew up a fun idea for
tonight and in the last stretch I stop by a local grocery store for a single
bag of ingredients. After that it’s a haze of video game and whatever, all of
which vanish like smoke when I get that Gloria knock at my door.
 
She’s dressed in a purple shirt two sizes too big with a cartoon fish on the
front. She’s wearing black bloomer shorts underneath and is barefoot. She
smiles beautifully at me before marching in.
 
“Have you eaten?” I ask her.
 
“Nope.” she says, “Do you have food?”
 
“I was thinking we could...cook something? Together, I mean.”
 
“Like what?”
 
“Crab Cakes?” I make the offer without confidence, hands up. A defense just in
case she denies me. She makes a curious look.
 
“I’ve never had crabcakes.” she said.
 
“They’re fun to make. Come on.”
 
In the kitchen, she pulled up to sit on a counter, watching as I unpacked next
to her. She kicked her feet errantly.
 
“I cook sometimes at home.” she said, “Like burritos and stuff.”
 
“Frozen food?”
 
“Yeah. But I cook it in the stove! I don’t use the microwave.”
 
“Good job.” I say. She puffs out her cheeks.
 
“You think it’s lame, don’t you.”
 
“I didn’t say that. Come on, help me out. Panko, Crab, mayo, green onions,
lemon juice, salt and pepper and a shallot all go in here.” I pointed to a
bowl, “Then we mix until it’s like play-doh.”
 
“That’s it?”
 
“That’s it.”
 
Gloria slid off the counter, “Can I cut the onions?”
 
I took a knife from a nearby drawer. Before handing it to her I reeled back,
“Are you old enough to use this?”
 
Adorably, Gloria saluted with her heels together, “Yes, sir! I’m ready!”
 
She did a good job at it and was pretty proud when she scraped her pile of
diced scallions and shallots into the bowl. I piled in panko and she squeezed
in lemon juice. I added mayo as she mixed until it was moldable. I showed her
how to curl her hands to make a perfect cake, which was pleasant not only to
teach her, but to feel the warmth of her hands as I did so.
 
“You can eat it like this, too.” I said, putting my current cake in my mouth.
Hesitantly, Gloria did the same and her eyes lit up, hand on her cheek.
 
“This is delicious.” she said, “They’re going to be so good when they’re
cooked.”
 
Oil in a pan, frying hot. Both me and Gloria watched over our babies as they
turned golden brown. The smell was pretty intoxicating. While they were frying,
Gloria stood with her hands on her cheeks, her smile unwavering.
 
“I’m gonna make these for my mom.” she said.
 
We went through the batch, piling the cooked crabcakes onto a plate. As the
last ones went in, Gloria snuck around me to pinch a single cooked one into her
mouth. I didn’t notice until she’d swallowed and the expression she showed me
when I looked at her made my heart stop with how amazingly cute it was.
 
“This is so good I have to pee.” she said, spinning around and hurrying towards
the bathroom. A swell of pride followed the burst of excitement and I rode both
to finish the last cakes. I was putting the pan in the dishwasher when Gloria
yelled out at me.
 
“You’re out of toilet paper!”
 
“Under the sink!” I yelled back. With two cans of soda I put the crabcakes on
my temporary card-table dining room. I saved the easy chair for Gloria and took
the folding chair for myself. I heard the door open and the tank on the toilet
flushing. When Gloria returned to the living room, she had in one hand the bag
from Sarah’s sex shop and the pink penis vibrator in the other. It wobbled
slightly as she held it up for me to see.
 
“What is this?” she asked, head tilted.
 
Before I express how much joy her discovery brought me, I should tell you that
I had forgotten all about my purchases. I suppose two days of routine could do
that and I did put it in a place I hardly ever visited, mostly out of
nervousness of having them. Now, though, looking at Gloria and the almost-
confused look on her face as she stood with the items in her hands, nearly
killed me with laughter. Her confusion turned to infected laughter and when I
calmed down, I explained to her where I got them.
 
“So, this is for me?” she asked. I shrugged.
 
“For both of us.”
 
She slipped it back into the bag. She sat it on the floor next to her while we
ate. Her expression of joy wavered not once during the meal, with each fresh
crab cake pleasing her as much as the last. She looked almost hurt when the
plate was empty.
 
“Thank you.” she said, also finishing her soda, “That was so good.”
 
“You’re welcome.” I said. Gloria put her hands in her lap, content. They only
stayed there for a moment, as when she again noticed the Sarah’s bag at her
feet, she brought it up to the table. She gave me a look as if to ask
permission. I nodded.
 
“Let’s see.” she said, “We already know about Mr. Pink…” she put the vibrator
on the table, “Then there’s...a bottle of…”
 
Gloria squinted as she read the label, “Lubricant?”
 
“It makes this slippery.” I said, “You know...in case they’re dry.” I cleared
my throat. I hoped the inflection carried over. Gloria’s curt placement of the
lube on the table told me it did.
 
“What is this?” she asked. From the bag she removed a flat plastic container.
She looked it over then showed me its front side.
 
“That’s edible underwear.” I said. It was watermelon flavored. The texture was
not unlike a fruit roll-up and was sprinkled with sugar. Gloria gave me a
strange look as she pulled it open and removed the candy garment. Saying it was
underwear was being awful generous, as it had a triangular-shaped front and a
string back, with only what looked like a single horse-hair’s worth of candy
holding it all together.
 
“Do you want me to wear this?” asked Gloria, “It’s so scratchy.” she flecked
off some sugar with her fingernail.
 
“No, no, I just bought it to be funny.”
 
“Can I eat it?” Gloria asked this, holding the underwear in front of her with
the index finger and thumb of both hands. A foolish smirk worked across her
expression. I sat and enjoyed the moment as though I were looking at a picture,
an oil still-life a blond twelve-year-old holding edible underwear after
dinner.
 
“Tear some off for me.” I said.
 
“You can have the butt part.” said Gloria. She pulled the front from the back
and handed me the knot of ‘underwear’. We both held up our pieces in cheer
before eating.
 
It tasted less like the fruit roll-up it looked like and more like those
sugared gummy slices one would get at a candy store. Its cheapness was evident,
too. As I gnawed away at my bit, I watched Gloria bite into hers, gripping it
with both hands and wrenching back and forth to rip off a piece. It took her a
considerable amount of effort to do so and she was red in the face by the time
she started chewing. I nearly gagged with laughter.
 
“It’s not bad.” I said.
 
“It would take a year to eat this if somebody was wearing it.” she said, “It's
hard like beef jerky.”
 
She fought another bite and resumed rooting through the bag.
 
“More lube.” she said, placing it next to its brother, “And some…” she read the
package, “Butt plugs. You really do like butts.”
 
“I like your butt.” I corrected.
 
“You want to plug it up that’s how much you like it.”
 
“There’s two in there. One for me and you.”
 
Gloria nodded, “We can both have our butts plugged.”
 
“You don’t have to try it if you don’t want to.”
 
She gave me a skeptical look, then turned to look at the vibrator.
 
“I want to try Mr. Pink right now.” she said.
 
“Then let us try.”
 
We stood. I took the warming lube and she took Mr. Pink. She’d discovered how
to activate it inside the few steps to the bedroom. It buzzed joyfully in her
hands and she squealed with laughter.
 
“How do you wanna do this?” I asked.
 
Gloria peeled out of her shirts, folding it twice before resting it on my desk.
She climbed onto the bed and lay on her back, knees up. Mr. Pink still buzzed.
I sat at her feet, watching. She put her hand between her legs, then into her
bloomers. I could see her fingers working around her pussy, with one eventually
finding its way inside. She shut her eyes as she began to masturbate. Her
breathing began to quicken.
 
“What about Mr. Pink?” I asked. Not that I wasn’t enjoying watching.
 
“It’ll hurt if I just put him in right away.” she said, eyes still closed.
 
“Oh. Well...that’s what lube is for.”
 
Her eyes opened. I took Mr. Pink, shut him off, and with her watching, gave it
a glossy finish with lubricant. Holding it up like it was a lit torch, I leaned
over and pulled down Gloria’s bloomers to her ankles, which she kicked to fly
them off the bed. Even though I’d seen her naked before, it hadn’t been so many
times that the effect was lost on me. Her round belly, the shape of her hips
and chest. The pert roundness of her developing breasts. The smoothness of her
skin, especially her vagina. I couldn’t help but delicately run my fingers down
her body.
 
“I can smell that stuff.” said Gloria, pointing at the lube.
 
“It’s supposed to smell like strawberries.” I said.
 
“It doesn’t.”
 
It really didn’t. Best guess on the real smell was probably bad raspberries.
Regardless, I moved forward, lowering Mr. Pink towards Gloria. I pressed his
head against her. She squirmed from the touch. Like inserting a key, I slid the
toy inside of her. She squirmed again, huffing a little out her nose. I moved
it in and out a few times. With each one, she made a noise.
 
“How is it?” I asked.
 
“Feels good.” she said.
 
“Moment of truth, then.” I said. I turned the knob that activated Mr. Pink. He
began to buzz at full power. Gloria yelled, curling upwards, her hands slapping
around my wrist. She was breathing hard and it only got harder as I pulled the
device out of her. I got it to the head before putting it back it and she
flopped hard onto her back, arced up, hands over her face. I remembered her
sweet spot then, turning Mr. Pink in a way to points its natural curve into it.
I pressed down on it just enough and Gloria swore loudly as her whole body
convulsed.
 
“Take it out!” she shouted. I obliged. A puddle appeared beneath her, a mix of
her own mess and lube. She lay panting, hands over her face as though she’d
just been in a fight.
 
“Did it hurt?” I asked.
 
“It felt TOO good!” she said, probably not meaning to shout but raising her
voice anyway, “I thought I was gonna die!”
 
I smirked, “You want to try a butt plug?”
 
Slowly, Gloria sat up. She gave me a snide look before leaning to examine
herself. She spread her pussy lips and carefully checked inside. She took a
deep breath and let it out slowly. After a moment’s thought, she looked up at
me.
 
“How about YOU try the butt plug?” she asked.
 
I was in no place to argue, nor did I really want to. Silently, I stood up and
stripped. The excitement had already brought me to full mast, something Gloria
paid no attention to as I crawled into bed. She had scurried to the living room
to get the plugs and had torn them open before returning to bed. They were
shaped like bullets with rubber wings at the end to prevent any accidental
lossage. They turned on like Mr. Pink, who was now somewhere in the bed getting
the sheets wet. I handed her the bottle of lube.
 
“Show me your butt.” she said. I got on all fours and did so.
 
“This stuff smells so bad.” she continued, applying lube, “Okay, ready?”
 
Feeling her small hands handle my butt cheeks was a pleasure unto itself. The
warmth of them, the pressure she applied. Knowing that it was her doing it. She
put the tip of the plug against my hole, then without warning entered it in. It
felt like I was taking a shit and until motion stopped, I was worried I
actually was.
 
“It fits!” said Gloria. She sounded genuinely excited, “I was worried your
butthole was too small for it!”
 
“Turn it on.” I told her.
 
“Huh? They turn on?”
 
“Twist the bott--”
 
The vibration was sudden and strong. The thing rattled around inside me,
buzzing through my lower half the way a bell’s struck sound would an empty
church. I clenched hard and its tip lowered in a way to just scrape my
prostate. I looked up at the ceiling.
 
“Push it in a little more.” I said. Gloria obliged.
 
“That’s as far as it’ll go.” she said. It was enough. The sensation of it
massaging my prostate was a pure pleasure loosed within me. I shut my eyes to
enjoy it. In the darkness I felt Gloria’s hands wrap around my dick. I felt the
warmth of her body press against mine. Her breasts rubbed against the small of
my back. She began to jerk me off, up and down with both hands. It felt
amazing. In my mind’s eye I was floating through absolute freedom, a sky clear
and clean and perfect. I wanted it to last forever.
 
I couldn’t hold on for even a fraction of that. I grunted and grit my teeth as
I came, lurching forward and shooting my load all over the sheets. Gloria kept
going until the last of it. When it was done I shuffled around and lay on my
back, breathing hard. Gloria snuggled up next to me.
 
“That was really amazing.” I said, “Thanks.”
 
“It’s weird when you say thanks.” she said. I turned to look at her. Those
water-clear emerald eyes, the pale pink of her lips and perfect white teeth.
Her hair over her forehead and ears. I leaned in to kiss her. She tasted like
crabcake. My hands wandered, one to her right breast and the other to her
pussy, where my index and middle finger inserted themselves. We kept kissing as
Gloria twitched and shook with it, culminating in an orgasm that made her grip
my shoulders hard enough to leave marks.
 
“It stinks in here.” she said, pulling away from me, “I need to shower again.”
 
“Me too.” I said. With a laugh, I slid to the end of the bed. I stretched my
arms over my head. Behind me, I felt Gloria moving around. Then there was spray
of something warm and sticky all over my back, a lot of it. The whole room
suddenly began to smell like bad raspberries. I whirled to Gloria, who was in a
laughing fit on the bed. Once she was done, she sat up and wiped tears from her
eyes.
 
“NOW we’re even.” she said.
 
For the first time, we showered together. She stood in front, hanging close to
me as the water poured over us. The first order of business was to clean that
lube off, which was done with lots of soap and water. After that, Gloria
cleaned herself out and helped spray clean my butt. Then we just stood together
in the hot water. Gloria’s skin, shimmering wet, was so wonderful to the touch.
She rest her head on my chest and I held it in place, gently stroking her hair.
I looked up at the showerhead.
 
Truly, I thought, if there was a paradise in this world, this would be
somewhere damn near close to it.
***** Laundry Day *****
Friday night Gloria arrived annoyed. She was wearing a short blue dress that
had pink flowers around the hem. Under it she had on capri-length yoga pants
and sandals. It was the most everyday casual I’d seen her in a long time. She
was peering down the hallway, arms crossed and lips pursed up. When I first
opened the door, my heart sank a little, worried that it was me she was cross
with.
 
“Everything okay?” I asked.
 
“My mom wants me to do laundry.” she said.
 
“You don’t like doing laundry?”
 
“I want to hang out with you, not do laundry.”
 
I leaned back into the apartment to look at the pile of sheets from last
night’s adventures.
 
“How about we both do laundry?” I asked.
 
“It’s just not as fun.” she said.
 
“Come on, come on. It’ll be fine.”
 
Gloria showed me an expression that told me that this time it was my fault, “I
wanted you to say I didn’t have to do it.”
 
“Your mother told you to do it, I can’t go against that.”
 
With a huff, Gloria turned on her heel and started towards the nearby stairwell
door. I took a step after her.
 
“Do you need help carrying it?” I asked.
 
“No!” she barked before vanishing upstairs. I waited for her to reappear in the
hallway before gathering all the sheets and accumulated laundry up in my arms.
Together we walked to the laundry room. Gloria didn’t say anything as we worked
our separate machines. I filled one with bedding, then another with clothes.
Gloria did the same, but took extra steps to make sure whites and colors were
divided. Her sandals slapped across the floor as she used two crumpled pocket
bills to buy a box of detergent and slapped all the way back to the machines. I
hesitated on purchasing my own detergent in favor of enjoying the show.
 
“Stupid laundry.” said Gloria, once the machines were running. I kept quiet.
She crawled up onto the big folding table behind the door and sat cross-legged,
arms folded like an angry Indian chief. I went to sit in the single folding
chair at the opposite end.
 
“This reminds me of when we first met.” I said. I crossed my legs, looked
whimsically up at the ceiling, “Was a night much like tonight…”
 
“We should be doing fun stuff.” said Gloria, “We only get to be together two
days a week. I don’t want to do laundry during it.”
 
“I’m having fun.” I said.
 
Gloria rolled her eyes, “Shut up.”
 
“Do you want to play a word game?” I asked. Gloria didn’t respond. This was the
first time I’d seen her in a legit sour mood and while I was all for getting
her out of it, it was also an adorable state to witness. I looked over at the
washers. Twenty minutes left. Then an hour of drying. It wasn’t that much time,
really, but to a girl Gloria’s age I suppose time moved differently.
 
“It’s better than sitting here in silence.” I said, “Let’s play last letter,
first letter. You just make a word using the last letter of the word bef--”
 
“I know how to play.” Gloria interrupted.
 
“Alright. Tomato.”
 
“Orange.” said Gloria, begrudgingly.
 
“Eggplant.”
 
“Toenail.”
 
“Lime.”
 
“Elephant.”
 
“Tomahawk.”
 
Gloria made the k sound a few times, “Killer?”
 
“Rotary.” I said. Gloria puffed.
 
“That’s not a word.” she said.
 
“Yes it is. Like a rotary phone. In circles, it means.”
 
“What’s a ‘rotary’ phone?”
 
An arrow of old age flew from Gloria’s youth and pierced my heart. Was I that
old? I’m only thirty. But then again...I am far removed the youth of today.
Phones have changed a lot since I was a kid.
 
“It’s a phone that used a special kind of dial for numbers.” I spun my finger
around. I pat my pockets, “If I had my phone I could look it up.”
 
“I’ll look it up.” said Gloria. She reached into a pocket in her dress I didn’t
notice to remove her phone. It was in a pink case with a fat cartoon bird on
the backside. She thumbed it on.
 
“R-O-T…” she said, “I-R-Y?”
 
“A-R-Y.” I corrected. She looked intently as the phone loaded her query.
 
“How weird.” she said, “They look hard to use.”
 
“It was all we had.” I said, “My family didn’t get cool phones until I was
already in college.”
 
“My mom got this for me last year.” she said, flaunting her phone.
 
“Any good games on it?”
 
Gloria snapped her fingers, “Oh, we can play checkers! Me and my friend
Margaret play it a lot when we hang out.”
 
She put the phone on the table and tapped open the checkers app. It took a
moment to load. When it did, we were presented with a checker board shaped to
fit the rectangular phone. Gloria took the first move. I shuffled my chair
closer and played next.
 
“I asked my mom about crab cakes.” said Gloria, “She said next time we go
shopping we can get the stuff. I told her I got the recipe from the internet.”
 
“Save me one.” I said. Gloria nodded, then looked suddenly sad.
 
“It’s almost the end of summer vacation.” she said, “Soon I won’t be able to
stay up all night with you anymore.”
 
“Well…” I wasn’t sure what to say, “Your education is more important.”
 
“I’ll miss you, though.”
 
“I’m not going to die.” I said.
 
“But...when can I see you?”
 
“Weekends, I guess.” I said, “Friday nights.”
 
“One night a week, oh boy.” said Gloria.
 
“We only hang out two nights as it is.” I said.
 
“That’s sad too.” Gloria slowly took her turn, then leaned over the phone to
smile coyly at me, “I still haven’t let you put it in my butt.”
 
“There’s always time for that.” I said, “You still have to get used to it.”
 
“I’ve been practicing!” she said, “I forgot to tell you! Yup, every day in the
shower I practice putting my fingers in there. It doesn’t hurt anymore now that
I’m used to it.”
 
“Good job.” I said, “I’m proud of you.”
 
Gloria made her move, then turned to look back over her shoulder at the closed
laundry-room door. When I met her eyes after my play, she had extended her coy
little grin into a full smile.
 
“You should put your finger in my butt right now.”
 
“Here?” I asked.
 
She nodded. I looked at the door, listening now intently. I had this fear that
the instant I started anything it would fly open the game would be over. Still-
-the way Gloria was looking right now instilled a new kind of confidence in me.
I shrugged at her and she excitedly slid off the table and nestled her butt
against my crotch.
 
“I’ll keep watch.” she said.
 
I put a hand on her belly. She put her hands on top of it. My other hand snaked
up the back of her dress and burrowed into her pants. They were a tight fit
anyway, nevermind how they squeezed when I was in there. I felt down her crack,
going too far at first and meeting the incredible softness of her pussy. She
twitched a bit.
 
“I said butt.” she whispered.
 
“Sorry.” I glanced up at the door. The secrecy of it all was, admittedly, very
exciting. My index finger found her butthole. She squeezed my hand tighter as I
gently pushed into her. I made it to the first knuckle before she made a sound.
It was a loud enough grunt to warrant her hands over her mouth and a sudden
panicked look. We both shared that expression before turning to look at the
door.
 
“Nobody’s coming.” I said. A part of me, a little demonic jerk part, suddenly
worried what the fallout would be of anybody walking in to see me holding a
twelve-year-old girl in a way to insert my finger in her butt. I slowly pushed
up to the next joint. Gloria took in a long, hard breath, hand still over her
mouth. I realized only then I’d not even applied saliva to my finger. I gently
removed myself from her and she let out a breath I didn’t even know she was
holding.
 
“Put it back in.” she said.
 
“Hold on.” I told her. I listened for any signs of outside life again, then
coated my thumb and index finger in spit. Going back into her pants, I moved in
a way to avoid losing the lubrication. This time, I inserted my thumb into her
butt, all the way to the base. Her breath quickened, but not as much as when I
followed up with my index finger in her pussy. Holding her hostage with a large
pinch, she was doing her level best to stay quiet. I squeezed harder, which
made her belly concave. I focused more on moving through her pussy. She was
tight around my finger. I went as deep as I could, just enough to reach that
old sweet spot. The stretch made my thumb come out some, but based on her
reaction when I squeezed the pinch again, it didn’t matter.
 
She shouted something muffled into her hands. Her head threw back with a burst
of air. Her hands slapped my knees. I did it again and again, each time her
reaction the same. She was very good at keeping quiet.
 
“Do you want to go all the way?” I whispered. She gave me a look that said ‘of
course, idiot’.
 
So there, alone in the laundry room at ten-thirty at night, Gloria orgasmed in
my arms. She pressed her knees together as she came, gritting her teeth and
snorting her into hand over her mouth. After it was over, she staggered out of
my arms and sat on her knees on the floor.
 
“It was really kind of exciting having to stay quiet.” I said. Gloria shot me a
dark look.
 
“No it wasn’t! I just wanted to shout!” she collected herself and stood,
brushing flat the front of her dress. The washers all finished at the same time
and their buzzers made both her and I actually scream in surprise.
 
“Mission accomplished.” I said and together we laughed.
 
---
 
After laundry, we returned to my apartment and just sat around. Gloria was
already satisfied and I didn’t feel much like doing anything explicit anyway,
so we just sat. She curled up next to me, arm over my lap and my arm pulling
her in. Her body heat felt real nice.
 
“When do you start school again?” I asked.
“Two weeks.”
 
“I see.”
 
Silence for a while.
 
“Don’t do anything dirty until next week.” said Gloria, “They we can have sex
and feel super good.”
 
“Alright.” I said, “Nothing dirty.”
“I mean it. Don’t come even once.”
 
“You too.” I said.
 
Another peaceful lull. Gloria kissed the back of my hand, a warm sensation that
spread across the whole of me.
 
“Gloria.” I said.
 
“Hmm?”
 
“I’m going to miss you, too.”
 
It was the truest thing I’d ever said.
***** The Second Look Back *****
Sometimes, the morning after a night with Gloria, I spend a moment on the
street outside my building to try and search for her window. I have no way of
knowing what apartment she’s in, or if her window even faces the street. I have
this little hope that one day, she’ll be in that window and we’ll smile at each
other, just a little wishful injection to help my day along.
 
I don’t want to leave the impression that I’m obsessed with Gloria. Because I’m
not. Nor do I think that I love her, though I do care for her. At the very
least, I would call us really good friends, best friends, in my case, that also
tend to have sex. That last bit has been bothering me a little bit lately--not
in any moral sense, because Gloria seems alright with it. She’s who she is
either way, but with how it affects her vision of our relationship. It’s been a
point I’ve too scared to bring up with her.
 
Maybe someday.
 
Walking to work, I pass by the local Denny’s. I turn my head to watch it until
I pass. At the crosswalk, I stick my hands in my pockets and take in a deep
breath of late-summer air. Early Saturday morning isn’t ever too busy, both in
the streets or at work. I can afford a daydream or two. Let’s go back again.
Back four months, back to Gloria and I’s first date (though it wasn’t a date).
 
She came back to my apartment dressed in a olive tee and capri jeans, with low
top sneakers. She had on an old sweatshirt to accommodate the remaining chill.
I slipped into a windbreaker and we were off. We walked for a bit in silence,
Gloria keeping to the inside of the sidewalk. The city was aglow in orange
streetlights. Not a single star was visible. Only when she pulled up to walk
along a brick wall did she start speaking.
 
“Do you work nights?” she asked.
 
“Nope.” I said, “Days. Saturday through Wednesday.”
 
“Why are you up so late, then?”
 
“I just like to.” I said, “What about you? Aren’t you tired?”
 
Gloria shook her head. She was walking with her arms out to her sides, “I sleep
all day during summer. My mom works nights so I like to be alone at night in my
apartment.”
 
“Sounds kinda sad.” I said.
 
“No it’s not. Sometimes my friend Margaret comes over and we play games and
stuff.”
 
“I see.”
 
Gloria hopped off the end of the wall and hurried ahead to press the crosswalk
button. She playfully bobbed her head back and forth as we waited for our
light.
 
“Do you have any friends?” she asked on the other side.
 
“Not really.” I took a quick stock of my life, turning my attention to a big
semi truck passing by. The wind that followed it blew up the tails of my
jacket.
 
“That’s sad.” said Gloria.
 
“Sometimes adults just don’t make friends.” I said. Or, in my case, ever even
have them. Aside from the few family members kicking around the country, I
wasn’t in deep with anybody. Just a lonely star in the lonely sky, I suppose.
 
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” I asked.
 
“Nope.” said Gloria, popping the ‘P’ with her lips, “Just me. Sometimes my mom
says that’s enough.”
 
“I bet it is.” I said.
 
Gloria skipped ahead through the Denny’s lot and was holding the door for me
when I caught up. The college-girl waitress greeted us with a smile, stepping
away from whatever she was doing on her phone. We were led to a booth near the
back, next to one of the big windows.
 
“Coffee.” I ordered when prompted. The waitress looked at Gloria, who pulled
her nose from the menu to ask for an iced tea.
 
“Get whatever you want.” I said. Head in hand, I looked out at the street. It
was late enough that the roads looked near abandoned. There was no real foot
traffic, outside of the occasional drunkard and the cars were far and few
between.
 
“What are you getting?” asked Gloria. She peered around her menu.
 
“Probably just some pancakes.”
 
She made a small noise and returned to the browse.
 
“So, your mom’s at work right now, huh?”
 
“Until six.” she said.
 
“What about your dad?”
 
Gloria didn’t answer. I turned to look at the menu that obscured her face like
a castle wall.
 
“He’s...not around.” said Gloria. The tone in her voice changed.
 
“I’m sorry for bringing it up.” I said.
 
“It’s okay.”
 
“My dad’s gone too.” I said. I returned to observing the street. The gentle din
of the restaurant filled the space between us. Clattering dishes, ambient
conversation from the few other people sprinkled about and the sound of that
occasional car passing by outside.
 
“Do you have any sisters or brothers?” When she asked, Gloria’s tone had
reverted back. She looked around her menu at me with a serene kind of smile.
 
“One sister.” I held up a finger, “She lives in Indiana.”
 
“That’s far away.” said Gloria, “Do you ever visit?”
 
“Not really.”
 
“Oh.” Gloria studied her menu for a moment more, then closed it and neatly laid
it before her, “We’re just two lonely people.”
 
“I guess we are.” I said. I laughed, “Is this better than being bored at home,
really?”
 
“Yes!” said Gloria. Her honest passion warmed my heart. The waitress came
around soon after with our drinks and to take our order. I stuck with my simple
double-stack and Gloria went for the the breakfast slam combo--whatever that
was.
 
“I bet she thinks you’re my daughter.” I said to Gloria after the waitress
left, “Me and you here this late.”
 
“We should just tell her we’re friends.” Gloria clicked her teeth nervously,
“We are friends, right?”
 
This child, little twelve-year-old Gloria, sitting across from me, with her
sunflower-yellow hair, sparkling green eyes and smile yet untainted by the
cruelty of the world, managed to pluck a certain chord with me that night, that
moment. And despite to where it would lead sexually, there was no single
thought of that kind of relationship in that moment. I nodded at her.
 
“Yeah, Gloria. We’re friends.” I held up my drink, “Friends!”
 
She reached across the table and clinked her glass with mine. The sound
resonated across time and space. I still heard it when I drifted out of my
daydreams, standing behind the counter at work, four months later. Muscle
memory had carried me through however many transactions and I was in the middle
of bagging up a stack of DVDs for a middle-aged woman. She thanked me and left.
I stood, suddenly aware of my body. A deep breath in, hard exhale. I called for
my boss and went to take my break.
 
---
 
The months all unfold in one moment. There’s no point in itemizing them. My
time with Gloria between meeting her and our relationship turning sexual was
something I’ll carry to the grave. Two nights every week, I looked forward to
that little knock. To seeing her face look up at me, to see what she was
wearing that night. To hearing her jokes and about her days. To learning the
little bits of her that pieced together her humanity. To share myself in the
same way. To get close enough that physical affection became more and more
acceptable.
 
Early on, the accidental touches and movements were all met with hurried
apologies, but as the weeks forwarded, they were more welcome, wanted, even. By
the beginning of August, it wasn’t uncommon for her to lay against me as we
watched movies or to roughhouse around on the floor. Standing out back of my
work, I look up at the clear August sky. The perfect blue of it, not a single
cloud. Soon, the leaves will start to change. The wind will become again
bitter. Winter itself will regain control, wrest from Autumn.
 
My friend.
 
My friend, Gloria.
 
Time, life, demand--all of it would soon divide us. Move us apart. The notion
suddenly hurt. Almost to tears and I accosted myself for it. The better angels
of my nature hovered about, reminding me in the smallest of voices that this
was a child, that the line I had crossed wasn’t meant to be by the standards of
the society I was in and I knew it, I knew all of it--but in the end, she was
my friend.
 
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
 
I turn to go back inside.
 
My apartment door opens. There’s Gloria. She comes in and we kill time as
always. Sometime during the night, as I’m sitting on the couch, she approaches
and gives me a hug. A deep hug. When she pulls back, she stares into my eyes
for a long time. Hers are so beautiful. Clear, like water and as green as life
itself.
 
“I want to be with you forever.” she said.
 
“Me too.” I said back, “I mean, with you.”
 
For a long time, Gloria sat staring into my eyes. Her expression drifted
around, starting at concerned, heading into thoughtful and ending up at
determination. Her tongue hurried around her lips nervously before she spoke
and when she did, a cool adulthood settled upon her child’s frame.
 
“Do you want to see me naked?” she asked.
***** The Final Night, Part One *****
Just for clarification, and to further the anxious dread, I looked online when
Gloria’s school term started. St. Maydell’s academic calendar said the week of
September first--next week. That meant that tonight and tomorrow night were to
be our last nights together. It was a fatalistic way to look at it, but with
school I couldn’t see Gloria pulling all-nighters anymore and I doubt her
mother would allow it anyway if she were even half the parent that Gloria had
expressed to me that she was. The tiny trumpets of my better angels said to me
that it was probably better this way. I kind of knew it, too.
 
Thursday day I went for a walk. A long walk, the kind reserved for people whose
lives demand reorganization. I shuffled the blocks around, looked at the
aspects. I was happy with my life, with my silly job, with my apartment, with
who I was. In the end, it all boiled down to one thing: I was going to miss
Gloria. Forgetting age, she was my friend, my lover, a confidant. Our bells
rang together.
 
For the first time, when she knocked, I didn’t answer right away. I stood in my
living room and watched the door. I could see her already, standing behind it.
Fidgeting around in her cute little mannerisms as she waited. At the end of the
second knock, I pulled out of shadows and answered. She was wearing her fleece
pajama pants with a matching button-up top. She gave me an annoyed look when I
opened the door.
 
“I was in the bathroom, sorry.” I said.
 
She was carrying a bag with her. She held it in front of her as she entered the
apartment and made a show of it after I’d closed the door behind us.
 
“I brought crabcakes!” she said. I clapped my hands together.
 
“I can’t wait.” I said, “Let me go get something to drink.”
 
“Wait.” said Gloria, “I also brought something else, something I want to show
you.”
 
“What is it?”
 
Gloria looked at me, then at her bag. She considered something for a moment
before shaking her head, “Let’s eat first.”
 
From the bag she took a fairly large tupperware container. It was crammed full
of crabcakes and they tasted just as good as the ones we made together. I
savored them as much as I did the time spent eating them with Gloria. We talked
small about the weather and whatever new things had happened to us, which
wasn’t much. Gloria told me about a funny bird video she’d watched and ended up
showing it to me to prove how much it made he laugh.
 
“Did you mom like these?” I asked, holding up a crab cake.
 
“She say they were ‘delish’.” said Gloria, “She also ate like two dozen of
them.”
 
“I’m glad.”
 
Gloria pointedly wiped her hands and mouth clean with napkin when she was done,
then got to her feet and took up her bag. She showed me her palms.
 
“Don’t move.” she said before vanishing into the bathroom. I sat alone, looking
at the few remaining crab cakes. The atmosphere was tense. I hoped that it was
just affecting me. I didn’t want this last night to be marred for Gloria in
that way. I wanted this to end as peacefully as it began.
 
Five minutes later and Gloria returned. She looked nervous as she did and was
dressed now in her school uniform. It was a white blouse with the school’s
emblem on the breast tucked into a pleated grey skirt. She’d put on eggshell-
white leggings. The only thing missing was the shoes. Hands behind her back,
she looked at me for approval. I wasn’t sure what to say at first. Seeing her
in uniform shed a different light, a sudden spot of revealing glare that showed
her as a person outside our friendship, a human child still enrolled in the
world. This was Gloria completed.
 
“You look great.” I said. She smiled, obviously relieved.
 
“I really wanted to show this to you.” she said, “I just got it a few days ago
from the uniform place.”
 
She walked over to me and took my hand. Despite using very little strength, she
was able to pull me to my feet and lead to me to the easy chair, where I was
sat down. Not once did eye contact stray as she climbed onto my lap, her legs
on either side of me. She leaned in a kissed me. The tension bowed but didn’t
break, instead amplifying the emotion. I recalled my first kiss with her, only
a few weeks prior. I remembered all the times together, the sudden sound of her
voice. In that kiss, in the softness of her lips and taste of her breath, I
became a different person altogether.
 
“What’s wrong?” she asked, pulling away and using her thumbs to clear the tears
from my cheeks.
 
I shook my head, “I really don’t know anymore.”
 
This time I kissed her, but only because I couldn’t bare to see her swelling
tears break. My hands began to wander. Slowly down her back, thumbs under the
band of her skirt then around to sneak up under it. I cupped her butt, squeezed
her thighs and came back around to feel her belly and gently hold her breasts
under her shirt. She leaned into me, her hands moving just as much. She began
to heat up. She lurched back as my hand went down the front of her tights, my
fingers touching her pussy.
 
“Just put it in.” she said. She took my hand by the wrist and removed it from
herself. A sudden burst of passion made me grab her by the hips and carry her
to the floor. Her legs were kicking furiously around me as I pulled down her
tights. They hung limply off of one foot as I struggled my dick free. Her
panties must have gone with the tights, or maybe she’d not even wore any, as
she was bare under the skirt. Her legs went up over me as I pushed into her.
She soundlessly sucked in air, digging nails through my shirt and into my skin.
 
Last week she’d made a point to tell me not to do anything dirty. It was advice
she herself must have heeded, as she was as slippery as I’d ever felt her. Her
insides gripped my penis hard, sucked me into her and I pushed in almost to the
base. She was on her back, legs extended, arms around me and her head at my
sternum, In and out I went, each time creating another gasp of pleasure or a
gravely moan from her. Be it true passion, be it the atmosphere of finality or
just the heat of the moment, the need to go faster and harder started to
emerge.
 
“Can I go all the way?” I asked. She only nodded, eyes closed. I slammed into
her, skin slapping against skin and the wetness creating a suctioning ‘pop’. I
wanted to make it better for her, for me. I pumped into her again and again,
the sheer pleasure of it removing anything but basic instinct.
 
I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her with me as I sat flat of my ass,
legs crossed. She kept her own legs wrapped around me and put her head on my
shoulder. Like this, I gripped her butt and moved her myself up and down around
my dick. Like this, I was able to twist in a way to hit her sweet spot. She
began to vocally express herself. Almost screaming, her moans became alarmingly
loud. Caution to the wind, I slid a finger into her butthole. It clamped around
me just as hard.
 
I’d crossed my limit a long while back. It was a miracle I’d not come yet,
especially with how hard we were going. I turned my head slightly to whisper
into her ear, ‘I can’t hold on much longer’. We were just two rays of light
now, a shimmering beacon of paradise reflected in humanity. The hot fires of
ecstasy immolated me, poured across my skin like napalm. If the world had ended
outside of us, I wouldn’t have noticed nor even cared. Being here with Gloria,
feeling her body, her insides, her breath and hearing her voice--knowing her as
a person, remembering all the times we’ve had together...this was my friend,
this was...this was…
 
My eyes flew open as Gloria bit my shoulder. She clamped down hard with her
teeth, enough to draw blood. The pain mingled with the pleasure and together
created a new kind of joy. She held onto me as tight as ever as she came. I
could feel every muscle in her body go rigid. It was empty of anything but
absolute joy. She tightened around my dick so hard I saw stars when I came, a
whole universe of nothing but the immaculate pleasure that was being with
Gloria.
 
---
 
“Stop crying.” she said to me. She was still wrapped around me as I sat on the
floor. I’d slid out of her. I could feel the wetness and how it pooled. Blood
trickled down my shoulder, along with the tears that Gloria shed. I sniffled
like an idiot.
 
“I can’t help it.” I said.
 
Gloria rubbed her nose on my shirt. I put a hand on the back of her head.
 
“Why did you become friends with me?” I asked.
 
“I don’t know.” she said, “This is so stupid. This is so, so stupid. You’re not
dying, I can still see you so why...why…”
 
At that moment, I realized it. The point of it, the tip of the mountain. The
culmination of everything together. A realization as horrible as that of death
to the first sentient man.
 
“It’s not meant to be.” I said, “It has to end because it wasn’t ever meant to
be. Like a fleeting dream, this has only ever existed because...because….”
 
“Because why?” sobbed Gloria.
 
“Because we wanted it to.”
 
“So what?! Isn’t that enough? I want to be your friend! I want to feel your
body and feel good with it! I want to know you! Wh-why can’t that just b-b-be?”
 
I didn’t have an answer.
 
Probably….
 
Probably because there wasn’t one.
***** The Final Night, Part Two *****
My living room clock says it’s two-fifteen in the morning, but time has been
rendered meaningless. I’m sitting with crossed legs and Gloria is leaning her
back against mine. She’s holding my hand still. The pressure has subsided, yet
not vanished. The lighting in the room, the stiffness of the air, the white
noise of the distant bedroom fan and the gentle movement of our breathing
creates a small universe for just two creatures to inhabit: Gloria and me.
 
“My whole life.” said Gloria, her voice like a ringing bell, “I’ve been alone.
My dad died when I was...little. Drugs, I think. He died just when I just
started to know him.”
 
“That’s the worst time.” I said.
 
“My mom is always working for a better life for me. I love her for that, but
I’m always alone. I’m not…” Gloria sniffled, rubbed her nose with the back of
her hand, “I’m not good at making friends. M-Margaret is fun to hang out with
but I’m not super-close with her or anything.”
 
“Why me, then?” I asked.
 
“I don’t know.” said Gloria. She bubbled at the end, catching it into another
sniff and releasing a sharp exhale, “I just...I felt like we could be friends.”
 
“We are friends.” I said.
 
“Then why are we both so goddamn sad?”
 
Because we’re not supposed to be friends, I thought, because it’s against the
rules, because the world is very small in that way. Because we have different
lives, we’re two different people. Because a thousand reasons.
 
“The world is ending.” I said, “This little place we’ve made, it has to go
away.” I swallowed, my throat still dry, “Gloria...do you love me?”
 
I felt as light as air. Like I didn’t exist except as the concept of me. I
waited for her answer in a nervous bubble, eyes shut. There was no telling what
to expect or what I even wanted.
 
“No.” said Gloria, “I don’t think I do. But it’s something else. Something that
makes us so good together anyway. I want to be with you, past friendship, past
love.”
 
“You’re too smart for me.” I said.
 
“Do you love me?” asked Gloria.
 
“I’m sorry.” I said. I hated that I was crying through this, that I was just an
empty bit of existence during it, “I do.”
 
Gloria was crying now, full, hard sobbing. I squeezed her hand. I could feel
her back lurching against mine as she cried. I wanted both to be as far from
here as I could and at the same time somehow even closer. I accosted myself for
being so weak, for being such a slack of a man that I could fall in this deep
for not only a child, but for somebody I’ve only known for four months.
 
Who am I, I wondered. Have I ever even known? Does anybody know? Does my family
know, my sister and mother, my dad--wherever he ended up, do they know? Does my
boss know? The customers I see every day, do they know? Does the world know at
all?
 
No.
 
They don’t.
 
Only Gloria does. And that’s why I love her. I understood a single breath of
thought. Every time the door opened, I saw her. Every day, the door opened and
there she was. The same smile, the same girl, I could talk to her and she to
me. I shut my eyes, hard. I see Gloria sitting across from in a Denny’s booth.
 
“We’re just two lonely people.”
 
Gloria is a much better person than I am. At the precipice of the most
vulnerable part of her life so easily able to determine between love and
friendship.
 
“It wasn’t so hard, becoming friends with me.” I said, “You can do it again.
You’ll live a whole life without me. A much better existence.”
 
“Shut up.” said Gloria.
 
“I want you to.” I said.
 
“Shut up.” she said again. I slapped a hand against the carpet and whirled
around. She dropped into my arms and fought herself to her knees. Her
shimmering green eyes were puffy and red, her cheeks stained with tears. Her
lips were quivering. I’m sure I looked just as a mess.
 
“Thank you, Gloria.” I said, “For being my friend.”
 
I couldn’t even finish the sentence without breaking down.
 
The end of our universe was one constructed of sorrow. She wailed in my arms, I
cried into hers. Everything became a haze, a wash of sound and color and
emotion. Only when we were both on our feet again, when the world had started
to crack and crumble, did we speak with an semblance of normalcy.
 
“This is it.” I said, “You should probably head home.”
 
Gloria. She stood with her tights in one hand, her bag in the other. I walked
her to the door. She stood in the hallway, back to me. I watched as she took a
tremendous breath inward and exhaled cleanly. She turned to me with a smile
brighter than anything I’ll ever see or have ever seen. I opened my mouth to
say goodbye one last time, but couldn’t find it in me. So I smiled back, trying
my best to emulate her newborn star.
 
Then she left.
 
I turned, closed the door and looked at my apartment. Everything went back to
what it was four months ago and I had nothing to show for it except the
striking bloat in my heartspace. There were no pictures, no texts, nothing but
what I knew.
 
This was a new universe for me, exactly the same as the old one.
 
Well…
 
Just a little crueler.
***** The New Universe *****
Living a decent life is hard to do.
 
Being human dictates that you not only have to abide by the rules of society
around you, but by the rules you set for yourself. For example: I can drive a
car. A cheap little Subaru I bought off craigslist. Society dictates that I
drive in the right lane and at posted speeds. I dictate that I drive in the
right lane at appropriate speeds. Society dictates that I find a job and keep
it in order to maintain a quality of living. I dictate that I can change my job
whenever I want and quality is subjective. Society dictates that you don’t fall
in love with children. I dictate...well, the same thing, now. A much as it
hurts.
 
It took me the better part of a year to figure what to do next. I called my
sister and asked what Indiana was like this time of year, what the job market
was all about. I called my mother and asked the same thing, but for Miami. The
former won out, simply because I couldn’t stand the heat. I bought my car and
began getting rid of my stuff. It takes a long time to move properly. My
apartment became emptier and emptier. I threw out Mr. Pink and the rest of the
Sarah’s stuff. I deep-cleaned my carpets. I started working out at night at a
24-hour gym across town. I wasn’t shooting for results, just distraction.
 
Living a decent life…
 
I saw her just once in the six or so months between our departure and mine. It
was a cool October Saturday morning. I had just left the building for work and
turned towards the parking lot, rather than the street. A blond woman came out
of the building, her features strikingly familiar. I forced myself not to stare
as I passed, instead only giving a polite nod and hello. She returned the
pleasantry. When I got to my car, she said something. Not to me, but the sound
of a voice made me look up anyway. She was standing next to her own car and
calling towards the building.
 
Gloria came out of it. Dressed in a puffy blue coat and blue jeans, she was
grinning as she ran towards her mother. I looked down at my feet, pretending to
mess with my keys as I focused to try and hear their conversation. Something
about a restaurant and...well, whatever. Errant talk between family members. I
heard a car door close and looked up.
 
Gloria was standing at the back of the car, hand on the trunk. She was twenty
feet away yet her stare made it two. She was looking right at me. For only the
briefest of moments, we returned to our universe and in it, she smiled at me. I
heard a bell sounding. Then the moment ended. Gloria got into the car and drove
off. I did the same.
 
I quit my job a few months later. Everything I owned now was stowed into my
little Subaru. This was my whole world now, soon to be expanded outward in a
new home, a new job and a new life sixteen hours away. I couldn’t help but weep
nostalgic over where I was leaving. Over the trees outside my building, over
the building itself. Over the roads, the city and sky. This was not only a
place I’d lived in for many years but also where I lived through Gloria.
 
Gloria.
 
The world will never know. Only me and you.
 
Society dictates that I’m a monster. I dictate that...maybe, yeah, but also I
loved our time together. I loved the feeling of her body, of holding her, being
close to her. Knowing her intimately. At the city limits I couldn’t help but
pull over and look down the highway, just a stretch of road that curved into a
horizon full of buildings. I reached a hand up towards the sky holding an
invisible glass.
 
“Friends!” I shouted.
 
I could hear the sound of two glasses meeting and on that fading echo, I rode
off into my new universe.
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