Thursday, April 25, 2013


WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age; PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW! _________________________________________ >

by Renpet

I don't know if you believe in love at first sight, in the thunderbolt that slams into you when it happens and the indelible imprint on your memory, one that lasts forever and shades how you perceive everything, but I do. It happened to me. Love at first sight transcends race, creed or colour. It is blind to social or economic barriers. It pays no heed to anything at all. It just happens.

It happened to me in Colombia when I was twenty-six.

She was eight years old when an understanding was reached and I handed an envelope full of cash to her father; real money out of my pocket.

Perhaps I should explain. It's not what you're thinking.

She was one of nine children in the Jaramillo family. They were dirt poor, scraping by on a couple of acres of lush land in Yopal in the shadows of lowland hills. I'd been visiting the area to photograph local life for a new on-line travel magazine that I thought had no chance of success. But the editor paid me, so I was happy.

I met Carlos at the local bar. He was a stocky man carrying no fat, sitting at a small round table outside a bar sipping a beer. The bar, with mustard-colored plastered walls and hand-painted beer signs, was small and, in my mind, quintessentially South American, full of charm. We struck up a conversation as I asked about local sights I was being paid to photograph. He was an interesting man. His face was a study in the harsh life he lived. His face was clean shaven and dark brown from exposure to the sun and elements, with creases in odd places giving him the appearance of a man much older than the forty-two he claimed. It had such character, weathered, kind, strong.

His bare forearms were nut brown and hard, musculature well defined but sleek. The scars and calluses on his hands spoke to manual labour, his fingernails cracked but scrupulously clean. He was polite to a fault and, because of his skin colour, his ready smile showed brilliant white teeth.

My personal hobby was portraiture. I love capturing the character in faces. It was rare, though. Unless you looked through the lens of a camera, you'd never know how bland many peoples' features are; a fast-food, McDonalds visage, common, prolific, unmemorable. Carlos' face was an encyclopedia of personality, so I took the opportunity to ask him if I could photograph him and his family, offering to pay, of course.

Thus, the first time I saw Francisca was as I approached their undressed brick abode. It was perfectly square, one step up from a shack with a tin roof covered in dried vegetation for insulation, protecting the interior from the heat of the sun. Windows were open squares with no glass, just curtains hanging limp in the still heat.

The sound of our engines died away, Carlos' ancient truck ticking over as if refusing to die. A deaf-like silence slowly filled with the sounds of crickets, muffled voices, a girl's voice shouting with annoyance from inside the home.

Francisca was standing on the rickety porch next to the front door. It took one look. Thunder clapped, the ground shook and, for a split second, the earth stood still. Well perhaps not but that's what it felt like. Like many Colombians she had scraggly dark brown hair that hung limp and long to her chest. It was almost straight, only slight waves. Sun had streaked her hair with lightened strands and it was a bit of an unruly mess. She was small and slim, straight sides with no curves visible under her multi-coloured, flower print T-shirt and dusty flared jeans with small embroidered flowers over the pockets. Her feet were bare showing dainty toes covered in brown dust. She looked like a typical seven year old.

It was Francisca's face though. Dark eyebrows, thick and perfectly natural, curved on her brow over deep brown eyes that glinted in the sunlight, framed by thick, long lashes. Her petite, straight nose led my eyes to her generous mouth. She had dark red lips with a natural curve at the ends that gave her the appearance of being on the cusp of smiling, holding it back, enjoying a private joke not to be shared. Thunder rolled again when the smile broke out. Francisca was a deeply attractive girl. In a flash I saw the woman she was going to be and it was stunningly beautiful.

That was it. One look. My goose was cooked. I knew it as surely as I knew I had two feet. I was in love.

On-and-off I spent four days with the Jaramillo family taking photographs, with a bias for Francisca. Carlos seemed to be exceptionally easy going with his children. Francisca was the second youngest, her sister Juanita was six. His other children, three boys aged twelve, thirteen, and sixteen, and four girls aged ten, eleven, fifteen, and seventeen seemed to do all the work around the house. Carlos had lost his wife in childbirth. I wasn't surprised given how fruitful she'd been.

Their home consisted of one main room, sparsely furnished with rundown furniture that looked as though it might collapse at any point, a kitchen always bustling, a small bedroom for Carlos, two for the boys and another two for the girls. The toilet was a shed-like outhouse in the back yard. It amazed me that they all could live in such a small home. Beds were thin mattresses on the floor leaving no room for furniture. Cardboard boxes stored clothes. Yet despite its sparseness and the evident poverty the home was clean.

Every day I would photograph the family as they went about their daily lives. I followed Carlos and the boys out into the fields to photograph them manually hoeing with their donkey, and watched them plant in the rich dark soil. This area of Colombia was lush, green and quite productive. Over many end-of-day conversations with Carlos as we sipped beer I understood just how meagre the crops of maize were. If the Jaramillo's were lucky, the income from two crops each year would just feed and clothe them. Many years they were not so lucky and the sons and eldest daughters would have to seek other menial jobs.

I paid an inordinate amount of attention to Francisca. At seven years old she had that playfulness, openness and carefree personality only children can have. I spent time talking to her and found myself completely enamoured. She was upbeat and funny yet did her share of the chores. She muttered incessantly while doing them, "It's Antonio's turn, he's a lazy pig, a big fat ready-to-cook pig, with a big fat bum, and he snores." But somehow it was funny how she complained. There didn't seem to be any malice, her smile too quick to follow.

When she laughed, which she did a lot, it made me smile every time. I was completely taken with her, utterly charmed.

In four days I was hooked. I had no doubt Francisca was going to be mine. I knew deep down she was going to be my wife someday. Don't ask me how. I don't know how I knew. I just did, with absolute certainty.

It was when I was sitting at the airport in Bogotá, ready to head home after finishing the photo assignment, that I reached a decision. Francisca had been on my mind for the last couple of weeks. I just couldn't get her out of my mind. Everything I looked at, every photograph I took, and every time I looked through the lens I saw her. I felt like I did when I was twelve and had my first crush on Pamela, the girl who kept hitting me.

Cancelling my flight, I drove back to Yopal not believing what I was about to do. But it was a compulsion in me. I sat outside of the local bar where I'd first met Carlos, with a cool beer in hand, wondering just how I might explain my outrageous proposition.

"Alejandro, estás de vuelta."

"Si. I'm back. Let me buy you una cerveza," I said.

"Gracias. So what brings you back to Yopal? Still more fotographia?"

"Cheers, Saludo." We clinked bottles. "Uh, Carlos, I don't know how to explain this. Uh, it seems that I have fallen in love with your daughter."

"Si? De verdad? Really? Gabriella is beautiful."

"No, Carlos, not Gabriella." She was his eldest. "No. Francisca."

"Chica?" Carlos asked in surprise. "Alejandro, she is only seven!"

I blushed. "Yes, I know, Carlos. There wasn't anything I could do. It just happened."

"Pero Alejandro, she's only seven." Carlos didn't look angry, just confused. I tried to explain.

"Carlos, por favour, don't misunderstand me. I don't want her as a wife now. But I want her as my wife when she grows up."

Carlos laughed. "You are crazy, amigo. How can you know that?"

"I know, Carlos. I know."

"So come back later, when she's a woman," he suggested waving the beer bottle in the air.

"Carlos, she's taken my heart. I don't want to be away from her. Would you consider letting her stay with me? She'd get an education and be well looked after."

There was a long silence, Carlos' eyes studying me, assessing me, trying to perceive any ulterior motive. Finally, he shrugged. "It would be one less mouth to feed. But Alejandro, it's not my decision, it's Chica's."

"What if I asked her, what if she agreed?"

"She makes up her own mind, that one. If she wants to, es posible. I'd have to think about it."

I spent the next week in Yopal. Every day I'd visit the Jaramillos. Finally I built up the courage to ask Francisca. My nerves were on edge at the preposterousness of my request.

"You what?" she asked in astonishment.

"I'd like you to come live with me, Chica." I liked her laugh, although it didn't sound promising.

"You're crazy, Alejandro! Why?"

"Francisca, one day we are going to be married." I had the distinct impression she didn't believe me. Her hard giggles might have been the give-away.

It turned out she didn't believe me. She promptly told me she didn't love me, didn't want to leave her family, and that I was crazy. But as I completed other assignments, one in Sierra Leone and another in Peru, I could not get Francisca out of my mind. She followed me, haunting and distracting me and draining the usual pleasure I'd had in my work. Three months later I was back in Yopal. I spent a week there talking to Francisca and left on my own, again refused with a laugh and beguiling, twinkling dark eyes. I was back twice more over the following six months. On the last visit Francisca had turned eight. I brought her a dress, a present, nothing too ostentatious that would create problems within the family, and she gave me a wonderful hug of thanks, her eyes shining with pleasure.

But my heart tripped when she finally accepted. Francisca would come live with me and I'd get to watch her every day, be with her, and bask in her personality and presence.

"Why Chica? I'm delighted, but tell me, why this time?" I asked.

"We lost another crop. Papa's worried about feeding us. If I'm with you, it will be easier for the family." She paused and added, "And Gabriella told me I'd be safe. She likes you. But Alejandro, you have to bring me back if I don't like it. Gabriella told me to make you promise."

I'd have agreed to anything, anything in the world. Francisca was coming with me! "I promise," I said. Francisca studied my face very hard before gracing me with a smile.

"Señor Alejandro," Carlos was saying quietly to me, "you must promise me to wait for Chica to become a woman before you marry." He stared at me with his penetrating dark eyes and added, "And treat her well. Remember, she's a child. You understand what I'm saying?"

"Of course, Carlos. Here." I handed him a thick package.

He opened it and his eyes turned flinty. "Que es? Why are you giving me money? You think you are buying Francisca?"

He probably thought so since he was holding 7.2 million Colombian Pesos. But I wasn't. "No Carlos. Please don't misunderstand. It is a custom for the man to give a gift to the new wife's family. Please, it's our custom." It wasn't and it was only about 4,000 US Dollars. Never-the-less, in essence I bought my future wife. My real motivation was to make sure they could feed and clothe themselves. I knew I'd be bringing Francisca back to visit her family and I didn't want her hurt in any way.


"Alejandro," she said breathlessly, "you live down there?"

Francisca had been awed at the plane ride, never having been on one before. She had this big grin the whole flight with her face stuck to the window, except for takeoff, when she'd screeched and grabbed my hand and the armrest in fear at the sudden roar and acceleration.

"Chica, call me Alex. Yes, I live down there." Francisca was staring in fascination, her finger pointing at the British Virgin Islands, a spray of tropical islands in a turquoise sea.

She didn't know she was in for a boat ride as well; another new experience.

It had taken me two months to get her papers and be assigned as her guardian. I'd taken the opportunity to redecorate my home into something less obvious than the slothful single male abode that it was.

Deplaned, we made our way over to the marina lugging Francisca's one suitcase and my smaller one. Even though it wasn't heavy I sweated in the close, humid heat of the Islands, the back of my shirt sticking to me uncomfortably.

"Thanks Julius. I appreciate it," I said, tossing our luggage into the back of the boat. Julius, the marina manager, had kept an eye on the Fountain for me while it was docked in Trelis Bay. It was our usual arrangement for my frequent travels.

"No problem. Who's the girl?" he asked, nodding at Francisca as she stood staring at the bay.

"Francisca," I answered, adding when he raised a questioning eyebrow, "I'm her guardian. Did you fill her up?"

"Yeah. Her tank's full. Pretty girl. Have a safe trip, Alex."

"Thanks." When I reached for Francisca's hand to help her she frowned and backed away.

"No, Alejandro!" she said, refusing to get into the boat, eying it warily as it moved and bumped against the dock.

"Chica, it's okay. You'll enjoy it."

"No. It does not look safe. How does stay the right way up? It might turn over and I can't swim."

I appreciated her logical assessment but had no idea how to explain the physics of design, weight distribution, ballast, and water density to her.

"Julius, would you watch Francisca for a minute?"

"Sure," he responded with a soft, friendly smile to Francisca.

"Francisca, I'm going to show you. Watch, okay?" She nodded unconvinced as I climbed aboard and released the lines. Using the lowest possible power I cruised around in a wide circle and returned to the dock, twin engines burbling sweet love to my ears.

"See? It's safe."

It took another ten minutes answering all her questions before she agreed to get in. The adult life jacket looked huge on her, or she was exceptionally small for it. Either way it was funny. Her hesitancy and squeak when the boat rolled slightly was worth a grin. The way she froze with her arms out was funny, like a spider caught on a white wall. I strapped her into the passenger seat and stowed our luggage.

We were up to cruising speed by the time we left Trellis Bay and Francisca was screaming in delight as I hit forty knots, the Caribbean Sea spraying up over the bow. She was laughing hard by the time we hit two-thirds speed at sixty-five knots, the twin Murcury power plants singing in excitement to me. With a twenty kilometre trip ahead we'd be home in half an hour or so.

"Alejandro! Faster!" Francisca yelled leaning forward in her seat.

I smiled broadly, ear-to-ear. It seemed her fears of the boat turning over and her inability to swim had been completely forgotten. A long curving white wake trailed behind us as we neared home and I finally slowed as we approached the private dock on Mosquito Island, the prow dipping, the silence sounding loud after the thundering roar of the engines. Guiding my 42' Fountain Lightning with a short burst of reverse thrust, we bumped gently against rubber protectors. Jumping out, I tied her up, grinning at Francisca. Her hair was wild and messy from the ride, but she had this shit-eating grin on her pretty little face. Beautiful. Just gorgeous. I was going to have this angel living with me and get to bask in her personality every day. How lucky could I get?

"Come on, I'll get the bags later. Let me show you your new home." Taking her small hand and helping her out of the boat, after removing the huge lifejacket and mentally reminding myself to buy a smaller one, I led her I led her up the path.

"Alejandro, this is yours? Is big!" she exclaimed, inspecting it from the path.

It wasn't. It was a comfortable 2,450 sq ft ranch style house built forty-odd years ago, constructed mostly of glass and wood with a red tile roof. But to Francisca, compared to what she'd lived in, it must have looked huge.

I let her explore after pointing out her room while I prepared dinner. She kept me entertained with a flow of commentary as she wandered around, "Alejandro, look, big windows with glass," "Alejandro, look a bath tub!" "Alejandro, look a real bed," "Oh Alejandro, you have a television . . . is big!" and on and on. I was smiling rather broadly as she let me know what I had as if I was new to the house, too. I adored her awed pleasure.

"Chica," I yelled, "stop calling me Alejandro. Call me Alex for goodness sake."

"Aleeex, you have two toilets!"

I chuckled. "Not Aleeex. Alex."

"That's what I said, Aleeex," echoed back at me.

"No. Alex, not Aleeeeeex! And they're not both toilets."

"What are they?"

"One's a bidet."

"A what?"

"Bidet," I yelled, smiling broadly.

Francisca ate with surprising gusto. I'd expected her to eat daintily, hesitant in the unfamiliar surroundings of her new home, but nope. She grinned and gulped with bits of the macaroni slipping down her chin and a milk moustache as she finished her second glass of milk. I found it completely and utterly charming. I also felt an ache in my chest, that uncontrollable, overwhelming feeling of love.

"What's a bidet, Alex?" she asked after gulping milk.

"It's to wash your bum."

"Really?" Big dark eyes grew even bigger. "Can you show me?"

She squealed in laughter when I showed her after dinner, the fountain of water spraying up.

"How do you use it?" she asked with curiosity and a smile, peering at it.

"You sit on it."

She shoved me out of the bathroom and slammed the door. "I've got to try this!"

Her peal of laughter from behind the closed door was too much. It had me chuckling then laughing when she yelled out, "It tickles, Alejandro!"

But that first night she knocked on my open door at just after midnight in a nightshirt looking sad.

"Alejandro, I don't like my bed. It's big and lonely. The room is quiet, too."

"Come," I suggested, lifting the covers at my side. "Sleep here with me."

And with that I felt completely at peace when Francisca scurried under the covers and cuddled into my side. It was the last time I slept alone.


While I had made a promise to Carlos and had every intention of holding myself to it, over the next six months I found increasingly difficult to keep it. Francisca was intensely attractive to me despite her age. It wasn't that Francisca was wild and shameless. She was quite the opposite. It was her modesty that tugged at me, that made me appreciate her daily. She'd sleep with me every night but I hadn't put a hand on her inappropriately. She'd squeak and run if I saw her in her undies, giggling as she ran. She'd snuggle close on the couch and pull my arm around her for comfort when we'd watch a movie or television. Each little action touched me deeply and made me more certain than ever that she the one for me.

I discovered Francisca was fearless, except when it came to water. She was game to try anything and everything except water related stuff. Being unable to swim made her very nervous. But with anything else, when she decided to do something, she gave it her entire focus. She was also nosey as hell, constantly asking questions and even going through my clothes, studying my underwear and socks as though there were hidden secrets in them. I was utterly charmed by her. However, when she started messing with my camera and photography equipment I laid down the law.

It took seven months but I finally coaxed her into the water deeper than her knees. Teaching her how to swim was almost painful. Her one-piece bathing suit might have seemed modest to most but somehow the way it accentuated her attractive skinny little bottom forming a bum crack and the way it hugged her little pubis was so arousing to me. Seeing her little camel toe had me almost in a trance. Her laughter and smiling, and her pretty, pretty face only made it worse. I discovered a strong sexual attraction in me for her slender young body which was intensified by my love for her.

But a promise is a promise. Besides, I wanted her to love me; she was going to be my wife eventually, if I could convince her.

Life was fairly settled. She took to water like a seal once she learned the basics, her fear dissipating. She hated school until she made some friends and then loved it. I absolutely adored shopping for the first time in my life. Shopping with Francisca was a completely alien experience. That first time . . .

"Alex, look. Let's try it!"

The can of Chef Boyardee looked horrendous, but how could I say no?

"Alex, ice cream, we need more ice cream!"

We bought ice cream.

"Alex, look! Hot dog! How do you eat it?"

We bought hot dogs and buns.

"Alex, Alex, look. Count Chocula. Chocolate for breakfast! Let's try!"

We bought Count Chocula, too. She was enthralled with everything she found, and the unhealthier it was the more excited she was. I'd never tried so many bad foods, even though I was a single male. Yet her pure, unadulterated enthusiasm was addictive. I'd bend to whatever she wanted.

Clothes shopping with Francisca proved beyond a doubt that there was a shopping gene unique to females. At first she wouldn't try anything on, refusing to spend my money. But that first purchase I coaxed and begged her into opened up a shopping monster. She'd drag me from store-to-store in Road Town, Tortola, to look. To look! "Does this look nice, Alex? Do you like this blue, Alex?" After three exhausting hours, she'd have a new T-shirt. That's it, one new T-shirt. Damn, it was crazy, and I loved every minute with her.

Things changed after about eleven months, just after her ninth birthday.

Francisca had accompanied me on my assignments, one to Togo and one to Peru. I found I so enjoyed her company I couldn't imagine being without her. I was truly smitten, head over heels in love. Francisca had a voracious appetite for knowledge, asking about everything we'd see, and I started seeing the world through her eyes; the magnificence of the Andes, the dark green forests of Togo, the colourful clothes African women wore and how they carried goods on their heads. As time went on, as I counted my lucky stars to have her with me, Francisca lost her initial shyness. Part of that may have been to do with us sharing a hotel room all the time. But even though I always booked rooms with twin beds for appearances sake, Francisca always, always slept in my bed. She no longer tried to hide when changing, although I never saw her naked; she'd long since given up worrying about me seeing her in her panties.

But it seemed nine years old was a water-shed age. Things changed quite a lot and for the better.

I woke up in the middle of the night on my back with an erection. Now that was not an unusual occurrence. But the small hand gently exploring and feeling it was. I pretended to be asleep as Francisca gently traced it over my underwear, her fingers probing and pushing gently. Eventually, after no more than two or three agonizing minutes, she stopped. It took me a long, long time to fall back asleep.

In the morning I saw her looking at my crotch every so often and wondered what thoughts were going through that pretty head, because clearly she was pondering something. That night she did it again, the same routine, a gentle exploration. Her soft touch was wonderful. It took me longer to go back to sleep.

Like anything Francisca would do, she'd do it with zest, with zeal, fully committed. And so she did, walking naked into the shower while I was occupying it one fine morning.

"Chica! What . . . You're . . .!"

"Alejandro, I'm going to shower with you!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, her eyes taking in my nakedness.

And she did, with gusto. I don't think there was anything sexual in it for her. But me? Goodness gracious. I had a full up erection before I could say Halleluiah.

"Yours is bigger than Pedro's," she decided, staring at me as she soaped my legs. There didn't seem to be any embarrassment in her tone nor sexual innuendo either.

"How do you know that Chica?" I asked. Pedro was her oldest brother.

"I saw him when he was washing himself. We all saw each other."

"Do you know why it's like that, Chica?"

"No. But it is big, si?"

I grabbed her wrists as she made to wash my proud peter. There was no way I could let her touch it, being on a hair trigger so to speak. The result would could have been traumatic for a nine-year-old.

"Here, wash your hair," I suggested, handing her the bottle of shampoo before rinsing myself and stepping out of the shower as quickly as I could. It might have seemed crazy not to stay in the shower and study her nakedness, but not really. The shower was a glass enclosure. So while I dried myself I took the opportunity to appreciate Francisca's naked body. It was the first time I'd had time to study her nude and my God she had my pulse racing.

She had two curves on her petite body, both of them profoundly sexy. The first was her bottom, a marvel of musculature, sweet buttocks gently rounded, hugging each other with indents in the side and sculpted by God; gorgeous swells that one wished to kiss just to feel her soft skin and a chasm bisecting them that made one want to play Columbus and explore new territory. Her second sexy curve was on the exact opposite side. I'd admired the shape when inside a bathing suit or stretching rather chaste cotton panties, but let me tell you, it's nothing compared to the real thing, undressed, unhidden, and proudly on display. Francisca's pudendum was stunning, a prominent, perfectly hairless mons that curved out from her tummy into an incredible plump v-shape nestled between narrow hips and slender legs. Her cleft seemed tiny, firmly closed, but it swept down magnificently between slim thighs. Her vulva looked so big it was almost like it was hanging down in the center of the gap at her groin.

Francisca was all straight lines except for those two places. And they were sexy enough for me to cum into the bath towel as my mind teased me with a 'what if' game; what if I could caress that spectacular little rump and slip my finger between them, what if I could explore that gorgeous little cleft, what if I could kiss that plump little mons. I had to admit the release of all the tension that had built up felt very good.

However, while I appreciated the temporary relief and the sexy display Francisca had provided, I was slightly confused. Why had she suddenly done this? And thinking selfishly, how could I encourage it? I wondered if there was any wiggle room in my promise to Carlos.

"Chica, why did you decide to shower with me?" I asked. We were eating breakfast, her with Count Chocula, me a bran muffin and coffee, and coffee, and coffee.

"I wanted to see your thing."

"My penis? Well you did. Are you satisfied?" Her grin was charming.

That night Francisca climbed into bed in just cotton panties, no t-shirt, pajamas or night shirt, and for the first time I slept with her warm silky skin against mine. But her newfound casualness created a problem, and a rather satisfying, if unexpected, solution. Francisca started showering with me every morning. I appreciated it greatly, but showers had been my one place where I could release the tensions of having a highly desirable girl around me all the time.

I tried showering at night but she simply showered with me even if she'd showered in the morning. Thus, by the fourth day, with pressure from a constant state of arousal and lack of release, I finally let her lather me up in the shower, her small hands wrapping partially around my straining erection. A look of concentration appeared on her pretty face, hair damp tendrils pressed to her small body. She stroked my soapy erection not knowing what her actions were doing and I came rather forcibly, ejecting rope after rope of cum into her hair, her amazed face, her upper lip, her chin and eventually her chest. It was an intense climax, partly from the build-up over several days, but mostly because it was Francisca, a gorgeous little naked girl stroking my erection.

I was pretty sure she hadn't expected that reaction to her washing my erection as she asked in amazement, "Alejandro! What happened?"

After I rinsed all the semen from her, dried, dressed and sat down to breakfast, I had a chat about the facts of life. Perhaps I was naive because I'd always assumed by eight or nine-year-old kids knew everything there was to know about sex. But Francisca didn't. Because of that she showed no embarrassment, no giggling, shyness or blushing. To her it was as fascinating as the Inca ruins had been, or the strange weaving techniques she'd seen women using in Togo.

"So Alejandro, married people do that? Make love?"

"Yes, that's about it Chica."

"And people who are not married do it too?"


She grinned at me. "And it goes in there?" she asked looking down at her lap.

"Yes, but only when you're grown up, remember?"

"Si. Does it feel good?"

"Does what feel good?"

"When it spits like that?" She grinned again, completely at ease, completely curious.

I smiled. "Yup, real good. It's an orgasm. That's what I was talking about, one of the best feelings in the world."

"Good. So we do it again!"

And that was that. I didn't resist in the slightest. Francisca had made up her mind. I liked it, it felt good, she liked it, she liked me, and therefore it was good. And, my-oh-my, it was. Francisca's commitment was amazing.

I became a bit like a Pavlovian dog. Every morning I'd have a proud erection before even entering the shower. I had started washing her hair for her, a uniquely pleasurable activity. Francisca would face away from me, tilt her head back slightly and let me wash. It gave me the opportunity to study the sensual swell of her little bum from above, and the twin little buttocks and sensual valley that funneled water and suds. Inevitably the tip of my erection would touch her back and Francisca would lean back pressing against it, driving my arousal even higher. The sight of my adult erection and her small bum below was very sexy indeed.

With her hair washed, Francisca would wash me and inevitably she'd turn her attention to my erection, studying it, caressing, squeezing and exploring it. The first few times I came far too fast, spraying semen like a water hose, gasping and seeing stars, my body wracked with pleasure. But within two weeks Francisca had discovered even more semen, "white stuff" according to her, would shoot out if she took her time.

There were several notable stages in her exploration and I was delighted with each . . . except the first. The first stage was when she tried to stop me ejaculating by squeezing my erection hard using both fists. While she succeeded and grinned at the extremely forceful blast of cum it caused, flying right over her head, it was excruciatingly painful. "Please, Chica, don't do that, it hurts," I begged.

She discovered through feel and observation she could anticipate my climax. "It gets bigger Alejandro," she stated proudly, squeezing my aching shaft.

She discovered the difference between teasing, using a finger to poke, prod and stroke and full out two-fisted stroking. She also discovered my testicles could have a big impact on my climax and, by mistake, could also deflate my penis rather fast when mishandled.

And one memorable morning she accidently discovered what semen tasted like. She'd being teasing me for an inordinately long time, giggling when my erection would strain up and swell at her light touch. I was in a hair trigger when she suddenly gripped the shaft, "It's very big toda . . ." and I exploded right into her open mouth. Surprisingly, she didn't scream or let go. She didn't seem that shocked as a matter of fact. She calmly swallowed with a puzzled expression on her cute face, followed by a big smile. Shit I was in love with her, not just for her actions though, but because of her, her calm openness, her innocent enjoyment of something so adult.

Now, I wasn't unaware of how one-sided this was. While I very much wanted to reciprocate I had held back, only chastely washing her privates in the shower which in itself was a thrill. It wasn't a lack of desire on my part. No. I was due to take Francisca back to see her family in a couple of months. I could just imagine her telling daddy all about how I touched her.

For her tenth birthday I took her to a small restaurant in Kingstown, Tortola. We spent the day shopping for a new dress, and I mean the day, all day. Eventually she settled on a modest yellow dress. We dined and chatted. I was taking her to a movie afterwards. When I mentioned that our showering together might not be information for her dad to know, she smiled.

"I know Alex. But you and I, si? Since we're going to be married, it's okay."

Her simple comment was astounding to me. It made me feel like I was on cloud nine. It had nothing to do with our showers, but everything to do with her calm statement that we were going to be married. It was the first time I'd heard her say it. Since her arrival almost two years ago I had not discussed it with her.

"Francisca, when did you decide that?"


"That it was okay to marry me?"

"Alejandro, I love you, you love me, we get married. What's the big deal?"

"But when? When did you decide?" I was curious to say the least. With the amazing logic of a child she clarified it for me.

"When I decided I love you, Alejandro." And then she grinned.

Francisca screamed in delight when I opened up my Fountain Lightning all the way on the return trip, creeping up on 110 mph, the boat crashing down hard over the swells, Francisca bouncing in her seat. When we arrived home in the dark, dock lights guiding me, she didn't even care her new dress was soaking wet.

"That was fun, Alejandro! Can it go faster?"

"A bit. Let's shower off the salt water." I'd said it while tying up the boat. When I turned, all I saw was a ten-year-old girl disappearing up the path, running like mad.

In the shower she looked at me inquiringly when I deftly dodged her reaching hands, warm water spraying down on us. She looked like a sexy drowned rat, all naked and petite and desirable. Knowing she understood what we did wasn't something to share with her father sort of released me. Kneeling, I moved her out of the direct spray and smiled as I lathered her petite body up. I had a plan. It was time to reciprocate for the pure joy she'd brought me.

The first thing I noticed was slight swelling under her areolae. This was a very interesting development, so I spent some time being interested. As I caressed them gently with soapy hands I noticed a few other things. First was her dusky dark areolae crinkled up nicely with tiny little bumps. The second was her areolae rose, almost inflating. The third was her nipples; well her nipples grew amazingly, not just becoming hard but engorging and thickening. It was quite incredible and very sexy.

I paid an inordinate amount of attention to these discoveries before caressing Francisca's tummy and finally her pudendum. Instead of a chaste washing, I carefully caressed her. I let my fingers trace the deep sensual crevasse at each side. Francisca held herself up with hands on my shoulder and spread her slender legs apart. Magnificent is the only appropriate description for her hairless pussy. It looked so prominent on her slim, small body, her vulva curving so seductively down, a prominent sexy mound between her legs. Gently I traced her closed short cleft, all three inches of it, letting my finger slip slightly between rounded labia. My erection bobbed when I felt her long clitoral hood slide across the pad of my finger. It bobbed again when I felt the bump protecting her clitoris.

Francisca's cleft was silky soft, smooth and warm and unbelievably sexy. I gently caressed her hardening clit and couldn't get over how her labia bulge out around my finger. The size difference was stunning, my finger so large, her cleft so small. It was perhaps the most erotic sight I'd ever experienced. Francisca sighed. Steadying herself with hands on my shoulders, her little hips started moving in time with my gentle stroke, pushing her pussy against my soapy finger, moving her hips back and forth faster and faster.

"Dios!" she cried out, her hips jerking wildly. She would have collapsed if I hadn't been holding her sexy little bum with my other hand. I took care to caress her through her first orgasm, lightening my touch as she came, removing my finger as she turned to jelly, her knees failing, and collecting my sensual little girl in my arms, holding her tight as her face found my neck.

"Alejandro" she finally whispered, "you were right! It feels so good, muy bueno."

Eventually she managed to stand unassisted but I could tell she was in that post orgasmic state, listless with a satisfied smile curving her lovely lips.

That night we went to bed naked for the first time. It was exciting and agonizing at the same time. Francisca scooted back against me and the tip of my erection poked her right between her compact little buttocks. She calmly reached between her legs, pulled it through and closed her legs, murmuring as she hugged my arms around her.

It was exciting having my erection snugly held between soft small thighs and resting against her pussy. The feeling and my imagination made me pulse in arousal. But it was agonizing not to stroke, especially when I felt precum leaking. Unfortunately, Francisca was asleep before I could suggest a new game, her soft regular breath moving the hair on my arm. Eventually, to the feeling of her warm, naked sexy body and the scent of damp shampoo drying, I fell asleep. It took a long time, though.


"She looks happy, Alejandro, and well fed. You are taking care of her well."

Carlos seemed pleased as we watched Francisca hugging and yakking with her siblings. She did look good, amazingly so. She was wearing her yellow dress, her dark brown hair cascading down her slim back. Somehow the dress, cinched at the waist and flaring to mid thigh made her bottom look sexy, well to me at least, probably not to Carlos.

"She's exceptionally smart, Carlos. You should be proud."

"I am. She tells me she's going to marry you. She says you are her hero. I think it is amor, si?"

I smiled feeling good, really, really good. It was head over heels love for me.

"Yes, I think it is amor. Chica's amazing, Carlos. When she makes up her mind, that's it, you cannot change it."

Carlos grinned. "Si. She's always been stubborn that one."

He turned serious, looking at me intently. "Alejandro, remember your promise. No marriage until she matures, okay?"

"Of cour . . ." It hit me. My promise! I squirmed on the chair as my penis reacted rather inappropriately in the circumstances. I'd promised not to marry Francisca until she started menstruating; I hadn't promised anything else. Bloody hell. It was time to go home, I decided.

We didn't. We spent three days there and Francisca glowed with happiness and chatted about every experience. At one point she asked me if her family could come and see our home, 'our home'! Her family was doing well, wearing new clothes. Gabriella was to be married in six months for which Francisca elicited a promise we'd return, and by the third day Francisca was muttering under her breath, "Pig. He eats everything. He's a puerco!" when her brother stole a taco from her plate, grinning.

We said out goodbyes with Carlos taking me aside and reminding me of my promise, Gabriella making us promise to come back for the wedding, and headed to Santa Cruz de la Sierra for another photo shoot.

"Alex, why would anyone want to come here? It is dirty."

Potosí was. Mining in Bolivia was ugly. And why my clients wanted photographs of the mines was beyond me. The town was pretty enough but that wasn't what my client wanted, so we spent five days driving around in the dust and dirt of Bolivian mines.

It was with great relief when I stepped into the Lightning in Tortola. Francisca was leaping about, struggling to put on her adult life jacket, muttering about stupid designs and uncooperative buckles. But with a familiar scream of delight, dark brown hair flowing behind her and a shit-eating grin on her sweet face, we blasted out of the bay and hit top speed, 110 mph, engines thundering as we smashed into the swells, salt water spray sparkling in the late afternoon sun. It was a hoot.

I may not have mentioned how open Francisca was with sex. She seemed to regard it as perfectly normal, even though it was with me, a twenty-seven year old and her, a lovely ten-year-old. But she had no social taboos restricting her and an inquisitiveness that constantly amazed me.

Thus, while it should not have been a surprise, it was. I was hard, very hard from feeling the tiny little opening of Francisca's vagina against my finger while I brought her to a climax in the shower. But Francisca managed to surprise me yet again. It was my turn and she'd started stroking me gently, almost a feather light touch with no soap. With the shower pounding my back, she first discovered precum when she slipped her fingers over my straining crown.

"It's different, Alejandro," she said as she tasted the clear liquid on her finger. The sight and action had me dangerously close to cumming.

With her typical dedication and concentration, she started to stroke my shaft while rubbing the palm of her hand on the tip. I felt pressure build and my climax stir from her teasing stimulation. But I came hard, harder than I ever had when Francisca felt my climax and aimed the first spurt of semen into her open mouth. I exploded again and again watching each rope shoot and collect in on her tongue in her mouth, agonizing pleasure tearing through me. Cum started dribbling down her chin, her mouth wide open and filled with thick semen. Gorgeous dark eyes looked up at me through long ashes. I groaned loudly when she closed her mouth, smiled and swallowed, residual pulses of my climax pushing the last dribbles of cum out. I groaned again when she grinned and opened her mouth.

"All gone" she said quite happy.

Sweeping Francisca up in my arms I held her tight. God I was so blessed, I thought. I tasted semen when we kissed. Believe it or not, I felt a stir of excitement when I touched her lips with my tongue for the first time. While I may not have had an erection I was mentally as horny as hell.

It only got worse when, at the touch of my tongue, her eyes opened wide, she paused, her lips curled against mine in a smile and a small tongue touched mine, delight twinkling in her beautiful eyes.

In no time flat I had her dried off and in bed where I proceeded to teach her the fine art of kissing. Francisca was an enthusiastic pupil. She tilted her head to the side and chased my tongue into my mouth, grinning against my mouth when I sucked her small slippery tongue. I was erect again when she tried sucking my tongue. My God, having a ten year old suck my tongue was so erotic. We kissed and writhed against each other, Francisca a small form in my arms. She moaned when I kissed and sucked gently on her almost nonexistent breasts, pushing her chest up to my mouth.

I was almost blind with excitement. She was so, so sexy and such an eager participant. I kissed her again, tongues touching and caressing. I cupped her spectacular hairless little pussy, Francisca spreading her legs wide for me. Groaning at the waves of arousal hitting me, I felt her moisture, slick and warm on my fingertip. Incredibly, I felt a heightened sexual need inside me, pressure, the harbinger of another climax! Without thought I broke the kiss and shuffled down between her small legs. With my butt resting on my heels I carefully lifted Francisca's small legs over my thighs. She was watching me intently with those dark eyes full of mystery, her lips slightly swollen from our passionate kissing.

Groaning and without saying a word, I caressed her inflamed clitoris with my thumb, drawing up her own slippery moisture from below. Grasping my erection I slid the crown through her labia, soft and smooth against me. Francisca began to breathe harder and her pelvis started moving in a familiar rhythm, her eyes closing. My crown slipped over her clitoris. I could feel her pelvic bone when stroking down. Excitement took over. It was such an outrageous sight to see my adult erection nestled to Francisca's hairless, immature pussy. Without thinking I lodged my large crown to the dimple of her vagina and started stroking my shaft, fascinated at how her thick labia hugged the tip in a warm embrace. My mind was on fire imagining what it must feel like to actually penetrate her tiny vagina.

When I resumed caressing her reddened little clit, stroking my shaft with my other hand, Francisca's pelvis surged up off the bed. She climaxed, catching me by surprise, small fists gripping the bed sheet, little grunts emitted, eyes closed and her face frowning so beautifully. It took me over the edge. Moaning, I felt a surge of cum power up and explode against her tiny vagina, white semen oozing around my crown. Knowing my semen was squirting into her vagina made my climax even more intense. Another huge load burned up and exploded into her, cum spraying out, my body shaking from ecstasy. I stroked and another blinding pulse of pleasure pounded my body and I exploded viciously, another load of semen pulsing out. I lost control of my orgasm, heaving and blasting against her tiny vagina again and again, cum spraying out over her pussy as I chased the incredible bliss all the way, heaving and spurting until I had nothing left.

Panting heavily, finally released from the exquisite agony of my orgasm, I looked at Francisca. She was smiling at me, sweat on her brow.

"I felt it Alejandro. This one was really good."

Looking down, oh how I wished I could go again. The sight of my semen leaking from her tiny vagina and dripping between small buttocks was without a doubt the sexiest thing I'd ever seen.


I was thrilled when her first pubic hairs appeared at ten and a half years old. It happened before her boobs really began to develop. Silky soft, uncurled black hairs sprouted on her labia first and over a period of six months, spread rather erotically up to sprinkle her plump mound. It was a very sexy sight.

I laid claim to the discovery of that first pubic hair. It happened one sunny and warm afternoon as we frolicked in the ocean.

I couldn't keep my eyes off the camel toe of her new bikini, the one she'd spent four hours shopping for. Something about the warmth of the sun, smell of salt water, the gentle slap of waves on the beach, and a sexy little minx playfully splashing around and grinning at me when she'd see where I was looking, brought out my amorous side.

Francisca's face radiated happiness. She was gorgeous and so sexy. She had this look of mischief in her eyes that was so damn attractive. Her boobs were small but definite bumps inside her top. And her bottom, God, her bottom was a sculpted marvel the way it swept out from her slim back, curved sexily, offered arousing little creases where it met alluring thighs, and Lordy did it wiggle and bounce beautifully. She knew how much she attracted me, too. I was sure she was putting an extra wiggle in.

When she'd turn to me, water dripping from her vulva between her legs, the bikini bottom plastered to her pussy with her camel toe arching down, I felt pure lust, nothing else, just pure lust.

She knew it, too. I could see it. She'd grin, crouch down into the water and rise thrusting her hips out, giggle and dive away. She knew the effect it had on me and I couldn't get over how much I loved her for it. Every day her personality became more attractive.

But at that point, a desperate urge to kiss that pouting mound drew my mind away from love. Charging through the surf, water spraying in all directions I grabbed my little minx and carried her squirming, squealing and giggling body under one arm up to the secluded deck. Dropping her on the foam sun bed I grasped her bikini bottoms before she could scramble away. We fought together, me holding the sides desperately trying to pull them down, Francisca grasping the waist at the front holding them up with peals of sweet laughter. With a particularly hard tug I managed to expose her beautiful bum which only made her laugh harder, tears appearing in her gorgeous dark eyes.

When I growled at her and tugged harder, she screamed in laughter forgetting to hold on tightly. One swift tug and I had those pesky bottoms flying though the air.

God, I wanted Francisca so badly. Her small body before me, naked from the waist down, her plump pubis so, so sexy, and her light, childish laughter and sparkle of glee in her eyes almost had me changing my mind. Suddenly I felt a strong urge to have intercourse, ten years old or not.

She saw the heat of my expression and gradually her laughter died. But her smile remained as she spread her legs.

"This?" she asked.

Bloody hell! That, yes that!

Laying down between her spread legs and admiring her barely pubescent pussy, I wondered if it would taste different from what I had tasted on my fingers previously. In the bright sunlight I could appreciate her fully. Her pussy was quite remarkable. Francisca had a very thick pad for a mons and rounded plump labia tightly closed forming a deep cleft that curved down so seductively. Her labia, at ten years old, merged beautifully with her buttocks. Prying her legs further apart her cleft magically flowered open revealing a long clitoral hood that took up almost half the length of her slit. It had a peak at the end hiding her clit, below two small inner labia. Inside her cleft she was pink, a contrast to her olive skin, moisture glistened in the sunshine and, for the first time I could see the tiny sexy dark hole of her vagina looking impossibly small. But what caught my eye was a lone black pubic hair on her left labia. Just one. It was long, jet black and straight. My Francisca was starting puberty. It was thrilling.

I bent to her, inhaling her light, slightly musky scent before tasting her from bottom to top. Soft, smooth and warm ran through my mind. I tasted salt first then another flavour emerged; a savory, not quite bitter taste with almost a perfume flavour. Absolutely delicious, delicious enough I went back for more, gently probing the source, a tiny opening against the tip of my tongue. I felt Francisca's hands hold my head as I explored the shape of undeveloped inner labia and the firmness of her clitoral hood. Gently I caressed her adding pressure, moving my tongue around until I was rewarded, her tiny clitoris hardening.

Francisca's legs relaxed. She murmured and pushed her pussy against my mouth when I nibbled lightly with my lips. She moaned when I sucked gently trying to draw ambrosia from her pussy. Gradually she rewarded me with sweet moisture as her arousal built, her hips undulating sensuously, and with my mouth open widely I sucked her moisture eagerly, probed her entrance with the tip of my tongue and then teased her clitoris with a kiss and gentle suck. She cried out thrusting her small hips up as she climaxed. I stayed with her, caressing her, building her climax until she cried out again, her thighs rising and snapping against my head and her pelvis churning up and down before she collapsed back exhausted.

She was breathing heavily with eyes closed when I cuddled her to me. My erection was exceptionally rigid.


Francisca's eleventh birthday was another milestone. We were up in Muskoka on another assignment at the time. Midsummer in Muskoka is quite stunning. The quiet is disturbing at first, but when you hear Loons start calling, their haunting sound echoing across the lake, it's quite magical.

Francisca had finally learned that my camera equipment was serious business. With the inquisitiveness and determination I had come to expect she set about learning everything she could about photography. In the process she became my assistant, knowing what I'd need before I'd even ask.

Our assignment was to photograph a multi-million dollar cottage on Lake Muskoka, Canada in case you're wondering. We had the place to ourselves for three days. I'd taken far too many shots; it was so hard to resist. Everywhere you looked was stunning, inside and out.

But it was the second day there when I took Francisca to a small lakeside restaurant at Muskoka Beach to celebrate her eleventh birthday. She was radiant in a new pleated white skirt and royal blue blouse, her hair braided into a pony tail making her dark eyes and beautiful face the centre of attention. I quite drowned in her loveliness and again thanked God for gracing me with her company.

Francisca had matured over the last couple of years. She was now the proud owner of two small breasts and a very slim but shapely body that showed off her growth spurt to perfection. She was the perfect example of preteen pubescence in first bloom. I was so in love with her . . . and in lust.

Emotionally she had flourished, behaving and thinking more maturely than her peers. I attributed it to her inexhaustible curiosity that drove her to read and research anything that caught her attention and, in a small way, to my treating her like an adult when conversing with her. It wasn't deliberate on my part. I simply knew no other way.

Our sexual exploration had settled down; exploration of new activities was muted. I was entirely satisfied with her caressing me, utterly addicted to her letting me shoot into her open mouth when in the shower and madly addicted to cumming against her tiny sexy vagina or eating her out to powerful climaxes. Between her ministrations and my continued oral exploration of her body, my fascinated observation of pubic hair growth and total appreciation of her developing breasts, we'd not needed anything more advanced, both satisfied, or so I thought.

I knew Francisca loved me. She told me in countless ways; cuddled to my side, "I love you Alejandro" in response to a hug or kiss, cuddling to me tightly after an orgasm, her small smiles when she'd look at me, the occasional flush of love in her cheeks, and simple signs like resting her hand in mine, resting her cheek against my side as we'd sit together, and the occasional fierce hug at odd times. Yes, I knew she loved me. And I loved her rather fiercely.

But that eleventh birthday dinner she got angry at me, perhaps for the first time. We'd had spats, funny disagreements, me forcing her to study, her muttering, "slave driver, I should report you", and other small disagreements. But at that dinner she got angry.

"Alex," she said in a low voice, "I want us to do it, have sex."

"Chica, we do," I reassured with a small smile.

"No Alex. Properly."

"You're still too young, Chica. It could hurt you and I won't take that risk. Besides, I made a promise to your dad."

"But Alex, can't we try? Maybe it wouldn't hurt. And it is my birthday," she added with a smile.

I might have reacted too sternly, probably driven by frustration I, too, felt at the restraints of the promise. "No Chica. We can't. I told you, I won't take that risk. End of discussion, okay?"

"No Alejandro! We finish talking when I say, not you! I want to try."

Things sort of devolved from there. Not the most successful birthday dinner. She was mute and angry in the car on the way back to the cottage. Her shoulder was very cold when we arrived. When she didn't come to bed right away I went in search of her. It took a while; this 'cottage' was over 15,000 sq ft. Eventually I found her sitting the dock. She was crying softly and, since I'd never seen her cry, it broke my heart.

Without saying a word, I sat next to her, feet hanging over the dock dipping into the warm lake water and put my arm around her. After an initial shrug, she cuddled against me. We sat for quite a while watching moonlight ripple on the surface of the lake and listening to Loons calling in their unique way; haunting and lonely.

"I'm sorry you got angry at me," she said softly. "I don't like arguing. It's not nice."

With a gentle squeeze of her small shoulder, I admitted, "I don't like you mad at me, Francisca."

A comfortable silence ensued. Eventually she broke it.

"When Alex?" she asked softly.

"Chica, when you have your period, then we'll try. I made that promise to your father."

"He's not here. I'd never tell," she tried hopefully.

I turned her face up to me and caressed her cheek with my thumb. "Look at me Chica. Look into my eyes. Can you see how much I love you? Can't you see how much I want to make love with you?"

Her eyes were very dark at night, almost black. She stared at me intently, studied my eyes moving from one to the other. Her gaze was far too mature for an eleven-year-old. I quite drowned in her long lashes and deep eyes and pretty, pretty face. Her small lips appeared darker red in the night and very kissable. Just a child, yet I wanted her so badly.

"Okay, Alejandro."

She blessed me with a weak smile and cuddled back against me.

But that event wasn't the milestone I was talking about. No. It was later that night when I'd finally got her to come to bed. We kissed and cuddled, touched and caressed, and let our passion build slowly. Francisca was a wonderful little bundle of exciting sensuality. She cried out gently when I brought her to orgasm with my mouth and cuddled tightly to me after, something I'd never tire of experiencing.

While we lay together she played with my erection, light touches, more fascinated than trying to tease. She surprised me again when she rose to her knees at my side, moved down to my waist and gently took my penis in between her fingers, raising it to point up. With a small smile to me, she bent over and kissed my crown. As amazing as it may sound, given everything we'd done together, Francisca had never touched my penis with her mouth. It was deeply thrilling.

She looked up and smiled gently, almost shyly, before turning back. Bending I watched her kiss my crown and throbbed when her small lips parted. Watching and feeling her small mouth slide over the flared head was so erotic. But the feel of her warm moist mouth encompassing me and the seductive caress of her tongue was amazing. Where she had figured this out I had no idea. But she proceeded to slip her mouth further down, her lips tight to my shaft. When she sucked gently, her cheeks indenting, I almost came from the vacuum-like sensation.

She pulled up and off with a plop and looked at me with a small smile. "Si? Did I do it right?"

I could only nod.

Taking a firm grip on my shaft, Francisca again enveloped me, her beautiful lips spreading around the bulbous head. Very slowly she started stroking my shaft, sucking gently, tongue exploring my crown and sinking lower, rising, sinking lower. It was exquisite torture. She kept taking more and more into her mouth until I felt the back of her mouth press against me. She gagged slightly. I felt her swallow. She then started playing my erection like a musical instrument, hand stroking my shaft, head moving up and down, up far enough that just her lips kissed me, then holding her lips tight, slipping my erection back into warmth, all the way to the back.

I'd like to say I made her work for hours, but the truth of the matter was I was in serious trouble. My climax was surging up towards me. An eleven year old goddess was giving me a blow job for Christ sake. I wanted to warn her I was there, but froze, my body rigid as cum stormed up my shaft and exploded into her mouth. Before I could breathe another surge burned up and exploded into her mouth, pleasure punishing me. I watched in amazement as her cheeks puffed out slightly. It was outrageously erotic. My erection swelled and strained. Another massive pulse of cum blasted out and semen squirted out between her lips. Jesus! I hunched and ejaculated again, cheeks expanding, semen leaking. Darkness edged my vision as I came and came into Francisca's mouth, ecstasy punishing me. I had no control. I couldn't breathe. I was dizzy from my climax, shooting into her small mouth again and again. I finally gasped. My hips heaved up. I heard her gag and watched her pull her mouth off as I fired cum up into the air, thrusting and spurting until pain wracked my body and finally released me, weak pulses and dribbles all that was left.

My eyes were closed when I heard the bathroom tap turned off. I felt Francisca cuddle into my side. We fell asleep, me into one of the best sleeps I had had.


"Alejandro! Alejandro!"

I looked up from rinsing down the Fountain Lightning. Francisca was running at me. At twelve and a half, she'd filled out beautifully with very small, firm breasts that rode high and bounced gently showing their youthful glory. She had the beginning of a lovely waist and a subtle flare to her narrow hips, a gorgeous tight small bottom I was forever in lust with and coltish legs that had developed a rather remarkable gap between her gently curved thighs. Her hair had darkened with the onset of puberty, now a glossy black mane cascading long down her back to brush against her buttocks. But her face, while losing all remaining traces of childhood, had gained elegance and youthful beauty that took my breath away.

"Alejandro," she gasped with a big grin. "Guess what?"

"What?" I smiled; couldn't help it. Her enthusiasm and delight, whatever it was for was contagious.

With great pride she announced, "I got my period!"

I was gob-smacked. I thought that happened at thirteen or fourteen, not twelve. I was so surprised I think I just stood there with my mouth open.

"Now we can be married, Alejandro," she said with great excitement then added with a twinkle, "and we can make love too!"

I stared at her.

"Alejandro? Alex? Say something."

Say something? What? My mind was quite blank. Then it hit me, married, married to Francisca. Oh yes!

When I smiled and reached for her she squealed and threw herself at me, kissing me passionately, head tilted, tongue thrusting. I had quite an erection as I kissed her back, petite boobs pressed against me and two sexy small buttocks in my hand, her legs wrapped around my waist. Finally we came up for air.

"Now Alejandro, come, now," she said tugging my wrist.

"Nuh-uh, Honey," I said. "Married first." It was probably one of the harder things I'd done in my life. But a promise had been made. Anticipation thrummed through my veins like electricity.

Two weeks later we were in Yopal standing in a small chapel with a centenarian priest intoning something or other. My blushing bride was not blushing. But her eyes sparkled with excitement and seemed a bit dreamy. She was stunning in a pure white dress next to me, her father smiling and brothers and sisters handsomely turned out in the new clothes I had insisted we buy.

Half an hour later I kissed my twelve-year-old wife, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears of joy, mine too possibly, and a hint of excitement I recognized as naughtiness. With a sneaky smile Francisca let me know she was thinking of what we could now do and it gave me an erection.

An hour later we were celebrating at her home, Carlos puffed up with pride and plying me with cognac, Francisca's sisters fussing over her. Two hours later I was passed out, drunk as a skunk. I wasn't a big drinker. It was four-thirty in the afternoon.

Francisca didn't seem upset when she gently shook my shoulder the next morning. But I was.

"Jesus, Francisca, why didn't you warn me your dad drank like that?" My head was pounding. My tongue had grown moss. I could taste stale cognac and I felt like shit; bad from a hangover and bad for ruining Francisca's wedding. She didn't seem to understand as she let out a tinkle of laughter.

"Get up esposo. We leave soon."

"Leave where? Why?" Esposo? Oh. Husband. How good that felt.

"Carlos changed our flight. We're flying back today."

"Where?" I asked, still a bit under the weather.

"Home. Get up!"

Her insistent tug on my arm finally got me moving. After hugs and kisses on both cheeks from the entire family we were off, Francisca buzzing with excitement, me hauling a hangover behind me.

In the air midway over the Caribbean I couldn't help but feel an inordinately strong pulse of love. Francisca positively glowed, her eyes shiny with excitement, her smile so, so happy. She was bubbling with constant commentary on anything and everything. I was the luckiest man on earth. Thinking back to the very first time I saw her in front of their small home and the thunder bolt that hit me, how I just knew she was going to be my partner in life, I decided I believed in fate.

"How fast can you make her go, Alex?"

We were gently pulling away from the dock. Francisca had an unusual look in her eyes I hadn't seen before and couldn't quite place. "About 115 mph when it's calm."

"Good. Fast, Alejandro. Make it go fast."

I got no shrieks of joy or laughter when I opened the Fountain up. She leaned forward as if urging it on, staring intently ahead.

"Go faster!" she instructed with a yell over the roaring engines, eyes staring ahead intently.

At 85 mph I held steady. We were thumping down into large swells as if we were hitting hardened concrete and almost achieving clear air as we crested the waves.

"Faster!" she yelled.

"I can't Chica. It's too rough." It was jarring my spine.

"It's not, Alex. Go faster!" she ordered.

When we finally nudged into the dock, Francisca scrambled out with remarkable agility, her long hair a wild mess where wind had pulled it from where it had been tied at the nape of her neck. I tossed the line to empty space, expecting her to help. She was fleeing up the path. Must need the bathroom, I assumed.

"Chica? Where are you?"

"Aqui, Alejandro."

'Aqui' turned out to be the bedroom. Francisca was stretched out on the bed like a royal queen, a big pleased smile on her face, wearing a sexy bra and panties with a garter on her thigh. Where did she get that? With dark hair loose and wavy and one knee bent over her leg, she held up her arms towards me.

"Married querido! Ven aqui!"

Well blow me down with a feather. Like the meek, obedient lamb that I was, I did just that, slipping into her arms and nuzzling her sexy neck. She wore perfume! Chanel 19! Nice.

Her hands guided my head away from her neck. I saw her pretty face, dark exotic eyes twinkling with excitement. I understood that look. Arousal. Nice. She kissed me, a quick peck on my lips and shoved my chest. "Get undressed, Alejandro. Your clothes are wet."

Well yes they were. I'd better take them off. Much better.

She was a warm bundle of amorous joy in my arms, moving and murmuring and making me all horny as our kiss deepened. I caressed her slender back as we lay side by side then paid attention to sweet, satin-clad buttocks. Her petite globes of sensual delight, firm and curvaceous under my hand, moved with sexy flexing, changing shape, indents appearing as she clenched, spreading wonderfully into exquisite pear-shapes as her leg hooked over mine, satin slipping between a valley of adventure. There was nothing as sexy as a twelve-year-old panty-clad bum.

Our kiss deepened as I traced her valley all the way down to the gap below. Our kiss intensified when I felt the rise of her plump little vulva under silky loveliness and dampness, my Francisca very aroused. Our kiss deepened again as I traced her cleft, pausing where I though her clit might be to rub gently.

She broke the kiss suddenly, breathing hard and pushing me back. God, but she wiggled and contorted in the sexiest way, her lacy bra falling aside to reveal small, adolescent breasts that shook and jiggled seductively when she struggled, wiggled and slipped her satin panties down, kicking them off her feet with gusto.

Francisca finally stopped, grinned at me as if she'd won the Derby, and literally threw herself at me. I can't tell express how erotic it was to be assaulted by a sexy naked preteen. Poor Francisca was all over me, kissing, caressing and panting and murmuring. It was delightful and very exciting, but not what I had in mind. We had a lifetime to experience a rambunctious fuck. But it wasn't right for the first time, no matter how enthusiastic she was.

"Francisca. Chica!" I grabbed her by the arms and rolled her onto her back rising over her.

"Alejandro, hurry," she panted, eyes slightly glazed with arousal.

"No. Slowly, Francisca, lento. It's much better, trust me." I watched the fever in her eyes ebb, watched her calm down. When her breathing quieted I bent down and kissed her gently on her soft sensual little lips.

We kissed gently, her arms circling my neck. As she tilted her head to the side, tongues touched, teased and played. She opened her mouth slowly inviting me in and sucked my tongue sensuously, murmuring, her body undulating, and then followed my tongue back into my mouth. She was a masterful kisser. My erection pushed against her thigh as I sucked her small tongue. I caressed a perfect petite breast while sucking her lower lip. She moaned thrusting her tongue back into my mouth.

The kiss broke with a gasp for air and I moved down slightly to find and kiss her gorgeous new breasts. They were engorged, her areolae slightly raised and nipples thick and hard. I kissed down her flat tummy and kissed the beginning of her sensual mound that I loved so dearly. I kissed her thin pubic bush, straight glossy black hairs soft against my lips, so youthful and desirable, and I kissed the beginning of her cleft, her scent strong and exciting. I kissed her small hip bone, her tummy, each of her nipples, her chin, and finally, after looking deep into her eyes, I kissed her mouth passionately, my erection aching, feeling thick and heavy.

We moaned in unison as we kissed. Then she broke the kiss, pushed me on my back and rose. Smiling, my twelve-year-old bride looked down at me with so much love. She leaned over me and, imitating me, kissed my chin, kissed my chest, and kissed my navel with a small touch of her tongue. She kissed my abdomen. I was trembling when she kissed the crown of my straining erection, kissed the shaft lovingly, and held my testicles gently to kiss them, she kissed my thigh, my stomach, my chest, my chin, and looked into my eyes.

"Te amo," she whispered almost shyly. It was deeply attractive.

I felt my heart swell. I felt a hot flush. "Chica, I love you too. Forever," I whispered as I gathered her in my arms, so petite and young.

Rolling over I lay her small body on her back. She smiled as she parted her legs, her hand at my waist pushing and encouraging me to move between her legs, my erection rigid and pulsing. Francisca, such a small beautiful young girl in the first beautiful flush of pubescence, was laid out under me in naked perfection as I held myself up on straight arms. She smiled and I felt her legs rise, calves on my buttocks. Her pelvis curled up off the bed, her labia flowering open, clitoris inflamed, moisture glistening. Blood was roaring in my ears as I contemplated finally penetrating her, finally feeling her tiny vagina gripping my erection.

Staring down at our groins my erection looked so large, too large. Francisca reached down and held my shaft below the flared ridge with her thumbs and fingertips. She guided me with gentle pressure. I looked way too big. Suddenly I had doubts. Beads of sweat popped onto my brow as she slowly rubbed the tip of my crown up and down her cleft then nestled it deep down, right at her opening, her impossibly small opening. Lord it felt so good.

She urged me forward. I watched her labia flatten refusing to yield, my crown flattening. Too big. I was much too big. But slowly, amazed, I watched her plump labia spread in slow motion and slip around my crown as if welcoming me. I pressed forward gently. Francisca inhaled sharply, almost a gasp. Looking up I saw her beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears, but she smiled at me, her fingertips urged me on.

When I looked back down I saw a small ring of blood around my crown, half way down. She was so small, too small. I would never get in. Her fingers pulled, urging me on. Easing off, pressure abating, I pressed forward gently, guided by her fingers. Suddenly I was in, the crown held in an incredibly tight grip. Oh God, I was inside her, penetrating her little pussy! My erection swelled in excitement. I saw her poor cleft stretched hugely, labia thin and pale, her vagina feeling impossibly tight. I tried to stop myself and couldn't. Cum surged up, my crown swelled and I exploded into her. My body jerked. I gasped. Bliss hit. My erection swelled again and another harder spurt of cum jetted into her little pussy.

"I can feel it," she whispered, her head raised and staring at where we were joined.

My arms shook. I swelled and came, swelled and came, hot semen pulsing into Francisca in an explosion of utter pleasure, her twelve-year-old vagina holding me in an impossibly tight grip, sealing my semen inside her. I shook through my climax, dizzy from the exquisite pleasure of cumming in her, collapsing half off her as it passed, sweating and panting.

Resting on Francisca, my partially softening penis was still gripped in her tight vagina. Her legs spread wide under the weight of my hips. Her fingers combed through my hair and caressed my sweaty back.

She whispered to me, "I felt you cum."

Finally, as she caressed my back, I recovered from an incredible orgasm. Rising to my elbows I lay fully over her, looking down at her gorgeous face.

"Chica . . ."

She smiled. "It was amazing, Alejandro." Then she giggled, mischief flitting through her expressive eyes. "We have a lifetime for you to get better," she said cheekily.

I chuckled. Minx. What a lucky man I was.

We kissed again, her hands caressing my back. Our kiss deepened, her legs curling, feet caressed my legs. Tongues touched lightly and Francisca tilted her head, her mouth once again opening slowly, inviting me. Incredibly I felt my penis respond! I'd never recovered this fast.

Francisca felt it too, moaning and moving her pelvis in small hunches. As we kissed I caressed her petite breasts and tweaked her hard nipples. She moaned into my mouth. My erection slowly returned, lengthening, her vagina tightening on me. She made tiny pelvic movements and I felt the stunningly rousing sensation of my penis slowly slip deeper into her velvet grip, its path eased by slippery semen. Francisca's kiss became more urgent as I hardened into a full erection. Slowly I joined her movement, my penis slipping out and sliding in, with increasingly longer strokes. Her vagina held me in a velvety hot grip, slick and smooth and exciting.

Slowly our pace increased, kiss forgotten as she held my chest tightly, straining her pelvis up to meet my strokes. I penetrated her deeper and deeper until I was completely sheathed in her young pussy on each stroke. Our pace increased, now smooth full strokes in, smooth strokes out, breathing harder.

Francisca succumbed.

"Alex!" she gasped, her body heaving off the bed. She came, an explosive climax, her body shuddering as she thrust her pelvis up at me almost desperately making little mewing sounds as her orgasm washed over her. I slowed my strokes, matching her slowing thrusts, slowing gradually until she came to rest holding me tightly to her.

Incredibly I was still erect. I felt small clasps of her vagina on my shaft as the remnants of her orgasm shook her body. Despite being erect, I had no urge for release, no need to cum. I loved this, I adored being erect inside Francisca; it was beautiful and sensual.

"You're still big," she observed quietly with a squeeze.

Slowly and very reluctantly I pulled out. My erection made a loud, sloppy pop as it withdrew from the vacuum of her vagina. Francisca giggled in embarrassment.

"It hurt, but it was much better than I thought it would be," she said, rolling and snuggling back.

Yes, yes it was.

As we spooned, exhausted from a long trip and making love, Francisca reached behind her and held my erection. "Put it in Alex, please."

I experienced the delicious feel of her vagina yielding again, slipping down my erection, a hot moist sleeve enveloping me. With my penis lodged deep in her we slept.


For the next two years our life became hectic. Suddenly I had more assignments than I could handle and I could, within reason, be picky. Francisca and I travelled extensively. We traveled well. Yes she loved me and I worshipped her, but we liked each other too.

Francisca, as to be expected, was insatiably curious about intercourse and gave it her full attention. It led to some wildly exciting sex and occasionally to some very funny sex. But her determination to explore was fascinating and rewarding.

She'd decided that making love was fine, but, "Alejandro, what if I'm just horny?" She wouldn't accept an explanation of sex for fun. I had to show her, at breakfast, in the kitchen. Life was wonderful at times.

Sitting astride my lap, Francisca wasted no time in fishing for my penis. I hadn't been erect, but I sure was by the time she finished fumbling inside my shorts. With pure glee, she raised herself, reached down between us pulling her undies aside and slipped my erection through her cleft a few times. When she was satisfied - my eyes almost crossed - she slowly sat down on me. Before you could shake a stick she was moving, trying back and forth movements, then stunningly arousing circular movements, and finally up and down movements, muttering to herself, "good, good, better, yes much better," as she discovered what pleased her. I adored her selfishness and determination. Her complete abandon, shameless exploration and enthusiasm was almost as important as the feel of her tight vagina erotically massaging my erection. I quite drowned in her pleasure and, as her climax slammed into her while she bounced in my lap, I came with wild abandon, grabbing the sexy little girl and shoving her down on my erupting penis, pleasure making me gasp out loud.

I still remember her blush and how she held her crotch afterwards to stop semen leaking while running to the bathroom.

Her adventurous nature showed through when I was trying to teach her how to pilot the Lightning, how to control the throttle to match the condition of the ocean.

We'd been shopping on Tortola. Pulling out of the marina, twin Murcury power plants burbling with restrained power, I noticed another Fountain Lightning entering. It was a 35-footer, smaller than mine. Piloting the boat was a guy who, rumour had it, was the author Chet Stevens, living on Peter Island. What caught my attention was the young girl with him, about ten or eleven. She was slender, petite and really quite pretty with long dark brown hair and bangs and a simply stunning smile. In passing I wondered who she was and nodded at the author as our boats slipped by each other.

Once clear of the marina I opened the throttle wide, the bow rose majestically, engines roared with pure unrestrained pleasure, and the bow thumped down sending a cascading spray of salt water up in the air. With a hit of wonderful g-force we were off to the races, Francisca laughing with delight next to me. Mid way home Francisca suggested I teach her how pilot the boat and, before I could move aside, she jumped into my lap facing me. It was not the position one piloted a boat from.

Before any I could suggest she turn around, Francisca grinned, her face full of pure impishness, reached behind her and expertly hauled back on the throttles. We came to a complete stop, the boat rolling in the swells. Leaning in, eyes twinkling playfully, she whispered to me. Oh my! When I agreed to try, as what fool wouldn't, she stripped of her bikini bottoms, yanked my trunks down and proceeded to fondle me into an erection. It didn't take long once I'd confirmed we were alone in the ocean. When she was satisfied with my condition, she calmly climbed into my lap facing forward. She reached down and grasped my erection, slid the aching tip through her cleft until she was satisfied with its position and proceeded to gently work herself onto it. God it was amazing. But once she was seated and my erection was clasped in her tight warmth, holding her around the waist with one arm, I dialled up the twin Murcury power plants again and headed into the swells. At a modest thirty knots Francisca was squealing and laughing as we bounced through the waves, Francisca rising and falling in my lap from the motion. I'm not sure when she climaxed as the boat's motion was quite vigorous but holy shit did I cum. She felt so petite on me. Her snug pussy seemed to caress my haft, sometimes rising almost all the way off and crashing down so the crown thumped into her cervix and other times undulating as if massaging me deep inside her firm grasp. And on a couple of suddenly large consecutive waves her sexy snug pussy took me over the top. My erection strained painfully. I gasped and exploded into her over and over. When we finally stopped, our crotches were soaked in semen.

Francisca decided she wanted to try doggy style on a business trip to Botswana. "Look Alex," she'd said, "let's try that,"' as she pointed out zebras mating. And indeed we did, just not how I'd expected. I'd had more modest thoughts of Francisca on all fours on the bed, looking back over her shoulder at me and grinning in anticipation of a sexy frolic. No. Francisca had a completely different idea. She wanted us to try it while she leaned over the railing of our porch. We were staying at a cabana, part of a safari hotel I was photographing. So, to views of Acacia trees and wide open veldts, with the risk of being seen, Francisca bent to rest her arms on the railing wiggling her luscious little butt at me and I moved in, slowly lifting the back of her dress, caressing and groping with growing excitement before sliding a slinky pair of panties over a sumptuous little butt and down to mid thighs. Moving in, I glanced around to make sure we were unobserved before unzipping my pan ts and releasing a rather painful and demanding erection.

Francisca had her arms on the railing, seemingly relaxed and enjoying the view while I gently nestled my erection between soft little buttocks, slid my crown through her crease and down to her vulva peeking out between two delectable thighs. She was already moist; I felt it on the tip of my erection. But with her legs together it was incredibly hard to penetrate her.

"Ouch," she muttered when I pushed rather hard driven by erotic excitement and need. However, her plump labia parted, her vagina dilated slowly and, with a distinct popping sensation, my crown was nestled inside her. It felt wonderful. Glancing down it looked outrageously erotic; my large erection penetrating her still small body, gorgeous buttocks spread. In this position she was exceptionally tight. Looking around again, I held her slim hips and with micro-movements gradually worked my way deeper and deeper, feeling her vaginal walls part against my crown. When I was fully sheathed and her sexy little buttocks pressed to my groin she started squeezing her vagina.

"It feels even bigger like this, Alejandro," she whispered. And, with slow and exciting deep strokes we let our climaxes build. It wasn't hard. The combination of the risk of being seen, the feel of sexy, firm little buttocks slapping against my groin and a tight warm sheath caressing my shaft while small grunts of pleasure floated back to me was intense and very, very sexy. To the sound of Francisca's gorgeous grunts I came, cock swelling and hot semen flooding into her in a blissful pulse. She moaned. I thrust deep and pulsed repeatedly, semen spurting into Francisca in a gentle and intensely satisfying climax.

But the real surprise, the unexpected surprise was shortly before her fifteenth birthday. She came tearing out of the bathroom into the living room.

"Alejandro! Alejandro!"

"What?" I asked, amused at her excitement.

"Querido, I'm pregnant!" she shouted waving a little stick in the air, a big shit-eating grin on her face.

Good God in Heaven. Francisca pregnant? Wasn't she too young to have a child? To bear a child?

Despite my concerns over her health I was secretly delighted. It never occurred to me to ask how, since she'd been on the pill. Me a dad! I swept her up into my arms swinging her around and hugged her.

"Chica, wonderful!"

And it was. She glowed, she ate, she grew. She looked so, so happy. Our return to her family that year was a massive celebration, everyone fussing over her.

"You did good, Alejandro" Carlos said with a proud smile as he watched Francisca helping in the kitchen. "It's a boy, I can tell. Bueno, muy bueno."

A local midwife helped Francisca with the birth. We had a beautiful baby girl, Juana, meaning God is gracious; he was.

Francisca was a wonderful mother despite her youth. Within six months she lost all the weight she'd acquired through pregnancy and was once more slim-hipped, slight of body and sexy as hell. We had, well I had a great time with her newly engorged boobs. She'd never grown past a b-cup, but maternity gave me full c-cups to play with; and I did. "Stop Alex!" she'd tell me forcefully, muttering "incorrigible lout." But her grin said continue so I did. Eventually they too returned to their previous size, not that I was complaining, though. One side effect of breast feeding was her nipples became even larger. I tried to explain that chewing on them was an inalienable right of a husband when she'd shove my head away. But her laughter drew me back and, as long as I wasn't quite so enthusiastic, she tolerated my attentions.

Our life was wonderful. The only downside was having to travel alone, Francisca staying home with Juana. As Juana grew and her personality developed, she proved to be a little Francisca, just as stubborn and mischievous, just as inquisitive and determined and just as accomplished at stealing my heart. The only difference was the sapphire eyes she'd inherited from me. It was stunning to say the least with her dark, dark brown hair. It made her eyes look bigger. I adored her and spoiled her rotten much to her mother's angst.

"Alex! Count Chocula is not a proper breakfast. Stop buying it!"

"Dad, don't worry, Mom's grinning," Juana said, smiling and shoving another spoonful into her mouth, milk dripping down her chin.

Our relative isolation made us a very close family. Francisca's personality shaped our lives, she was the centre of my universe and I deferred to her in all things except photography and finance. But it led to an unusual family, one I was not familiar with from my childhood.

Initially it didn't bother me when Juana would run around naked or climb into our bed in the mornings. I didn't mind her sitting on the toilet seat chatting about her day, school or TV while I showered. But I laid down the law when, at eight years old, she walked in on Francisca and I being frisky in the shower, as we had wont to do almost every morning.

"Chica, please explain to Juana it's not appropriate."

"Why Alex? Are you now ashamed?" Francisca asked.

"No! Never! But Francisca honey, she's eight! She shouldn't be seeing this stuff. She's too young."

"Alejandro, how quickly you forget," she said with a warm smile. "When did you and I first take showers? Wasn't I eight?"

"Oh. Right. Um . . ." I tried another approach. "Chica that was different, you were my wife."

"No querido, I wasn't."

"Well, we were in love!" I protested.

My wife's eyes opened wide in surprise. "Juana doesn't love you?"

"That's different, she's my daughter. Of course she loves me."

"Then all is well, si?"

No it wasn't.


"Really?" Juana's eyes were wide with wonder.

Francisca smiled gently at the wonderful memories. "Yes. He was wonderful, Juana. Your father is the best man I've ever known."

"But the shower, Mom?"

Francisca laughed. "I felt it one night when he was cuddled up to me. It was hard and poking me in my rear. I knew it was his penis but wondered why it was so hard. I'd seen my brothers' penises when they'd wash, but theirs were always soft.

"Anyway, the next night I decided to see except he was wearing underwear so I could only feel it. It felt huge; then again I was eight so it would feel big."

"So when did you see it?"

"Well I tried to see it the next night but couldn't. I decided since I couldn't see it at night, I'd see it in the shower. Juana, you should have seen the shock on your fathers face when I got into the shower with him. It was quite funny."

"But weren't you embarrassed? I would have been."

"Why? Are you ashamed of your body, Juana?"

"No Mom. But getting into a shower with a grown-up would be hard. I think I'd be too shy."

"Juana, you need to understand what a good man your father is. We'd lived together for nine months and he'd never done anything to make me nervous. In fact, he was kind and funny. Besides, even when he thought he was being tough and telling me what I could and couldn't do, all I had to do was stamp a foot, yell at him and he'd agree. He's a lamb, Juana."

"And he did nothing to you?"

"No. Not once. I had to start everything. He was too careful with me."

"So when did you know you loved Dad?"

Francisca's eyes lost focus as she thought back over fifteen years ago, she smiled at the memory. "Oh I knew it the very first time I saw him," she said with soft conviction.


"Hmmm. Yes. Your grandpa brought him home. I was standing in front of the house waiting for your grandpa to complain about your Uncle Pedro."

"And?" Juana urged, eyes wide, her attention completely focused on Mom.

"This handsome young man got out of the car turned and looked at me. He had the most amazing blue eyes I'd ever seen. But, Juana, when he smiled at me . . ."

A pause followed.

"Mom! Go on. Tell me."

"Well, when he smiled at me his eyes twinkled and his smile was so . . ."

"Come on Mom! What?"

Francisca gave herself a mental shake and smiled at the eagerness in her daughter's blue eyes."Sorry. When your father smiled at me he took all the air away. I couldn't breathe. There was no air."

"So you knew then?"

"Yes. Right at that moment I knew I loved him and he'd be mi esposo one day."

Juana watched her mother's face. Mom seemed blissfully happy as she remembered.

"Mom, if you knew it then, how come you refused to go with Dad when he asked you the first time?"

"Ah, well," Francisca said, perking up. "First I was stubborn. No one tells me what is going to happen. But I was so sure he was going to be my husband one day I decided to have some fun with him. He's a lamb, Juana. It's hard not to tease him.

"Anyway, when I said no and he accepted it I thought he'd try again the next day. But he didn't come back. I cried so much that night. Lucky for me he came back two weeks later. But Juana, by then I was mad at him for not trying so I said no again in anger. It was stupid.

"I dreamed of your father every night after. Eventually he came back and asked again. When he did, I wanted to say yes, but we were having trouble with the crops and your grandpa needed me." Francisca's voice trailed off, consumed with memories.



"How did it feel? Love, I mean. Does it feel like you have a tightness inside? Sort of an ache?"

Francisca looked sharply at her ten year old daughter. She was just starting puberty, tiny bumps for breasts, her slender body sprouting vertically, and childhood features on her pretty face were subtly altering, beginning to reveal some maturity, a peek at how she might turn out.

"Si. It does"

"Does it make you warm, Mom? I get this tingling feeling and sometimes my heart beats so fast."

"Talk to me, Honey. Who are you talking about?" But she knew. She knew who Jauna was talking about.


"He's your father, querida. Of course you love him." But Francisca knew it was more than that. She could understand and sympathise.


"It's not appropriate, Chica!"

We were having one of our few real disagreements. I was angry with her. She should not have brought Juana into the shower this morning.

"Querido, you know as well as I that nudists have no problems. Why do you?"

"Francisca, she's growing and maturing. You've seen her. It's not good for her to be exposed to me naked at her age."

"Why? Are you ashamed that you had an erection?"

"Francisca! That had nothing to do with Juana! What's gotten into you?"

She smiled. Juana had come to her so many times with questions. She'd talked to her daughter and dissuaded her from exploring her developing feelings. Juana had asked countless questions about her father, how their relationship had grown, what their sex life was like. She chuckled when she remembered telling Juana about the shower episodes, Juana's eyes opening wide as she described male orgasms.

"She loves you, esposo. She's curious. What harm is there in that? Since when did you decide she should be raised in ignorance?"

"Ignorance? Francisca, she's my daughter! Show her a movie or give her a book for goodness sake!"

"Si. And that will teach her about sex. She knows about sex. What about love? Who teaches her about love?"

"You do!"

"Alejandro! Stop! Enough! She loves you and you WILL teach her anything she wants to know. Do you understand me?"

"No! I most certainly will NOT!"

I felt like a shit. It was both of their faults. Somehow they were accusing me of failing them every time they looked at me. Having two stubborn, opinionated women in my home was enough to drive me to drink. So I did. Lots. I sat in my Lightning and drank, letting the gentle motion of the boat rock me as I contemplated the stars and drank, and drank.

What in the name of God had gotten into them? And Francisca! What was wrong with her?


I turned at her soft whisper. God I loved Francisca. She was so, so beautiful. She still made my heart ache. This was hurting me deeply. I couldn't remember feeling her displeasure like this, ever.

"What? Are you here to punish me more Chica?"

The boat rocked as she climbed aboard and moved back to sit next to me, taking my hand with both of hers and holding it softly.

"Alex," she said quietly, "do you remember our marriage?"

How could I forget - Francisca so pretty, the feeling that this angel was going to spend the rest of her life with me. How lucky I felt. "You were beautiful, Chica. Still are. The most beautiful woman in the world."

She rested her head on my shoulder, thick dark hair tickling my neck, Chanel 19 perfuming the air. "Do you remember, querido, our first night back here?"

Every tiny detail was still etched in my memory. Making love to my new wife was wonderful, thrilling and exciting. It had started a new chapter in our lives; an amazing journey. Francisca's adventurousness and curiosity and her determination had led to some spectacular sex. Yes, I remembered. "Mmm-hmm," I nodded.

"Alejandro, you were the gentlest of lovers. You made me want so much more. You made love feel so good, so right."

"No, Chica. That was all you. You were determined." I smiled and chuckled lightly. "You were the adventurous one if I remember."

"Querido, you're wrong you know. I was scared."

That surprised me. "But you hounded me! It was you pushing."

"Si. If I did nothing, I might still be a virgin. You were too careful, so I had to."

"Hmmm. I'm glad you did."

"Alex, do you like our love life?"

"I adore it Chica."

"Even now?"

"Of course. Even more I think."


I knew why. Francisca was so uninhibited, she was carefree and showed the pure joy she had for sex, be it a quickie, or long love-making. We were so in tune with each other that even when one or the other didn't climax we'd still have fun; no demands, perfect, a perfect partner.

"We fit, Chica."

"Do you know why, Alex?"

"I've never really thought about it."

"I'll tell you then. We fit because we love each other, we love loving each other. Because you made my introduction to sex so special, I wanted more. Every day I wanted more. You never hurt me, you never complained and you cared so deeply for my pleasure.

"You made sex something to celebrate. Can you imagine if it had been less than what it is? Can you imagine what it would be like if we didn't enjoy it as much as we do?"

I didn't want to. It was as important to us as breathing or eating; an affirmation of love every time.


"Does it make you happy?"

"Very much so, Chica."

"So, why is it so wrong to show your daughter how good it should be? Give her the gift you gave to me? Why should it only be mine?"

"Chica, esposa. It's wrong. You're talking about incest. It's forbidden."

"So, querido, we shall let fate decide, let fate teach her, the back of a car, some fumbling child teach her? Would you deny your daughter the gift you gave to me? The gift of love? Of celebration?"

"Chica. It's not fair. You shouldn't ask this of me."

"But I do. Your daughter loves you. She wants you to teach her, querido. I want you to teach her. I want her to share the gift you gave me."


Francisca had always been stubborn. I found out she was sneaky too. She guided Juana, educated her, abetted in wearing down my defences. Lying in bed after making love she turned to me, looking at me intensely.

"Alejandro, Juana has had her first period. It's time for you to share."

"Chica, she's only twelve."

"Si. So was I. It's time Alex. It's what she wants. It's what I want. Share, querido. Tomorrow you will give her your gift of love."


I watched my wife lead our twelve-year-old daughter into the bedroom by the hand. Watched as she gently helped Juana onto our bed and gave her a motherly kiss on her forehead, caressing her cheek softly and whispering to her.

Straightening, she looked at me and smiled softly. "Here she is Alex. Just like we agreed. All yours. Be gentle, querido. Remember."

I nodded, still not quite comfortable and didn't think I'd really agreed to anything.

Looking over at the bed, I studied Juana. She had thick dark brown hair just like her mother, the same nose and wide mouth. She'd taken my eyes, sapphirine offset sharply by her olive skin and dark eyebrows. As she smiled at me lovingly, excitement glistening in her eyes, it brought back memories of her mother.



"I really do, you know."

My daughter was just as slight a girl as Francisca had been. Petite breasts mounded an oversized t-shirt that fell to her knees, narrow hips, slim legs; a petite girl. My daughter. Dark hair that had turned almost black with the onset of puberty glinted in the evening light, loose and wavy on the pillow, one knee bent over her leg.

I watched my daughter hold up her arms towards me. It looked familiar, brought back memories, Francisca after our wedding.

I slipped into her arms, nuzzling her neck and smelled perfume, Chanel 19. Francisca was Machiavellian, I decided.

"Dad?" my little girl whispered.

Rising I looked into sapphire eyes.

"Mom said you'd remember."

She sat up on the bed and pulled her t-shirt off. Juana was wearing a sexy bra and panties with a garter on her thigh! I recognized them! I knew them! I'd never forget them. Francisca on our bed, arms outstretched towards me.

I inhaled sharply when I saw Juana's smile and the look in her eyes. I knew that look, too.

"Dad, you should take your clothes off."

As she lay back down, I blindly undressed. Juana, with the exception of sapphire eyes was a splitting image of my wife.

Juana welcomed me with her arms and a shy, happy smile. She was delicate and small in my arms, moving and murmuring in an all too familiar way as I kissed her soft lips, my body shuddering in unexpected excitement. I felt the touch of a tongue as I caressed her back, my hand slipping down to caress her petite satin-clad bottom. Our tongues touched. Juana kissed me harder. I caressed a perfect firm, sensuous buttock. My world narrowed to my daughter, nothing else, just my daughter.

I kissed her with more passion when she tilted her head and slowly opened her mouth, chasing her tongue. My hand felt the arousing curve of her young buttock and traced the sweet valley between them, slipping lower. She raised her leg at my caress, resting it over my thigh, opening herself to her father's intimate touch. God, my daughter was so sensual.

Carefully, I traced the rise of her young vulva and followed her cleft, feeling the little bump where her clitoral hood peeked out. stroked it I gently, my penis hard and poking her thigh.

Juana gasped and pulled back. Staring at me intently, heat and arousal in her eyes, she wiggled and contorted, bra falling, panties slipping down, legs kicking them into the air. Smiling softly she lay back.

"Dad," she whispered in invitation.

My little girl was beautiful, gorgeous. Pubescence had graced her with sexy petite breasts that rose proudly from her chest, dark, dusky areolae raised and crinkled, and firm nipples. I saw Francisca in her. Juana's tummy was flat and sculpted from a life of swimming, a gentle swell just under her navel, and a thick, plump, achingly sexy pussy graced with a fine coating of silky black pubic hairs, straight hairs, new hairs. Her mound rose and plunged, a deep seductive vee between her legs. God, my daughter.

The tug she exerted on me was magnetic and powerful. I couldn't stop myself from leaning over her small body and kissing her nipple. I couldn't help myself from caressing her perfect pubescent breasts, shuddering at the touch, at her murmurs.

Juana took my hand in hers.

"Here, daddy," she whispered as she guided my hand down. My body trembled when I held a perfect young pussy, rounded and plump, yet small in my palm. Her silky pubic hair tickled and excited. My erection strained when she spread her legs. Gently, carefully, I traced a beautiful, tightly closed cleft and felt my finger bump into her clitoral hood where it nestled between sweet labia. Juana murmured. Her body twitched at the touch. Gliding down, I groaned when I discovered her moisture. My little girl was slick and slippery at the base of her cleft. Moisture went even lower between tight buttocks.

Juana pulled my face to hers, kissing me hard, tongue probing as I collected her moisture, drawing it up to her clitoris. I kissed my daughter passionately when she lifted her pelvis up off the bed pushing her little pussy at me, my finger slipping between her silken lips. She was moist, warm and smooth, her clit hard.

Juana pulled my lips away, breaking the kiss and stared into my eyes. "I love you, Daddy," she whispered, her hand slipping down my side, legs parting wider, her hand urging me to move over her, guiding me.

"I love you too, Sweetheart," I replied, moving between her legs, my erection hard and pulsing, my daughter a small beautiful young girl laid out before me. I held myself over her on straight arms. She smiled and I felt her legs rise, calves on my thighs. Her pelvis curled up off the bed, her labia flowering open, clitoris inflamed, moisture glistening. She looked so desirable, so petite and young and innocent. My erection poised at her pussy looked huge, too large.

Just as doubts flitted into my feverishly aroused mind, Juana reached down and took my erection, fingers holding it below the flared ridge. I recognised that hold! She guided me with gentle pressure. I looked way too big. It excited and scared me. Beads of sweat popped onto my brow as my little girl imitated her mother by slowly slipping the tip of my crown up and down her sexy cleft, labia pooching out before oozing apart around my crown. She guided and nestled the tip deep down, right at her opening, her impossibly small twelve-year-old opening.

Urging me forward by curling her legs, I saw her labia stretch, my crown flatten. Too big. She was too small, too tight. But slowly her labia spread and slip over my crown. I heard my child inhale sharply. Looking up, I saw her beautiful eyes glistening with pain, but she smiled at me, her fingertips urged me on. I recognised that look, too! Like mother like daughter.

When I looked down I was presented with a ring of blood around my crown. Her fingers pulled. Pressure built. Suddenly I slipped into her, the crown held in an incredibly tight grip. Oh God. I was inside my daughter! I was penetrating my little girl's pussy! My erection swelled from a surge of excited arousal, her vagina feeling impossibly tighter. I recognised thet feeling! I knew it, I remembered it! Francisca!

Looking at my daughter, sapphire eyes glistening, I lay over her, elbows holding my weight off.

"Juana . . ."

"Daddy," she sighed, her arms reaching to hug me.

We held still, gazing at each other, my daughter, I had taken my daughter's virginity. Bending, I kissed soft lips gently, lovingly. Juana murmured sweetly.

She was so tight inside, even tighter when my erection flexed. Juana felt it too, moaning and moving her pelvis slightly. I kissed her, caressed her petite breasts with one hand, tweaked her hard nipples, and she moaned and curled her little pussy up at me. She started making tiny pelvic movements, little fucking movements, and I felt my penis slip deeper into her velvety grip, vaginal walls parting erotically around my crown. Juana's kiss became steadily more urgent the deeper I penetrated her tight sheath. Gradually the urge became too strong and I joined her pelvic movements, fucking my little girl, my erection slipping out and sliding in in increasingly longer strokes. Her vagina held me in a velvety hot grip, slick and smooth, her arms hugging me tight.

Gradually our pace increased, kiss forgotten, arousal building. She began to breathe deeply, mouth open, straining her pelvis up to meet my strokes in ever harder and faster motions, her heels tugging. Our pace increased, now smooth full strokes in, smooth strokes out, heart racing. My groin started hitting her clitoris every time I buried myself in her exquisite little pussy.

Juana's eyes closed. She breathed deep and held her breath, her body pausing.

"Daddy!" she gasped, her body suddenly released and heaving off the bed. My little girl came with an explosive climax, her body shuddering and arching as she thrust her pelvis up at me making sexy little mewing sounds. Her orgasm washed over her and the eroticism of seeing and feeling my child climax was enough to take me over the edge. I came in my little girl hard, hard, semen exploding deep into my daughters clenching vagina in a blindingly pleasurable eruption. Pulling out, I thrust again, burying my swelling erection as it pulsed painfully, cum jetting deep in to her pussy. My orgasm took control. Juana and I writhed together, pelvic thrusts, cumming, erupting, cumming, cumming in exquisite pleasure, every beautiful spurt felt.

Orgasms passed. Bodies stilled. Breathing slowed. My little girl was perspiring. So was I.

The bed dipped. I heard Francisca's soft voice and felt her hand on my back. "Juana, baby, how was it?"

I heard her reply.

"Mom, it was just like you said. Incredible!"

Rolling off my daughter, groaning, sated, and for some reason thrilled by what we had just done. I saw Francisca sitting on the bed, nude, nipples hard and engorged. She smiled at me.

"Querido, I think you did well. But there's still so much she wants to learn."

She bent and kissed me. My wife, my love, Francisca.

No comments:

Post a Comment