You Can't Always Get What You Want
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft, ft/ft, Consensual, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Interracial, Black Female, White Male, Oriental Female, Cream Pie, First, Oral Sex, Petting, Safe Sex, Size, Small Breasts, Prostitution, Slow,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - We meet up with our hapless hero, Uncle George again. The plot and characters are completely different, and not connected to other Uncle George stories. In this story, horny younger girls see older men, including Uncle George, as the cure to their perpetually aroused condition. Uncle George has to deal with a whole different set of issues and problems. As usual, he digs a deep hole for himself. Will Uncle George overcome the problems he's made for himself? Will the girls find satisfaction?
I never thought of myself as a pedophile or even a pervert. I always felt like a normal, average married guy. I had never been attracted to teen girls, once I stopped being a teen myself, and I totally ignored any girl younger than sixteen even when I was a teen. My ideal woman was a Dallas Cowboy’s Cheerleader. I lusted after a twenty-something gal about five feet, eight inches tall, long blonde hair, a pretty face like, Meg Ryan when she was young, or Kate Hudson; with a 36DD-24-36 figure. Of course I never found anyone even resembling my dream girl, let alone any kind sexy girl who liked me.
When I retired from my job teaching middle school kids, I was pretty proud that there had never been even a hint of scandal my entire career. In thirty years of teaching pubescent little girls with cute faces, budding breasts, and impossibly tight little butts, I’d never once been tempted. The little darlings had been as safe with me as with their own mama.
I had plenty of opportunity if I’d wanted to groom a girl so I could make a move on her. My students were the kids who were always getting in trouble. Heck, they couldn’t even go to the lunchroom without pissing someone off. I would lead my charges down to the cafeteria five minutes before the lunch ladies were ready to start serving. My kids would get their trays, and we would march back to my classroom to eat.
All the broken kids in school who weren’t in special programs found out about my room and came to hang out in my safe space rather than risk the savage cafeteria; most from time to time, and a few visited me every day.
One of my regulars was a seventh grade girl who got kicked out of the house by her mom for being “uncontrollable.”
According to Sara, that meant she masturbated too much to suit her mom. She told me she tried really hard not to touch herself after she went to bed, but her clitoris itched so badly she couldn’t stand it, and finally she had to give in and stroke her pussy until it was all wet and slippery, then rub her clit like crazy, until she came. Sara said she tried gagging herself with a pair of cotton granny panties, and then when that didn’t work, a rolled up pair of socks; but she always came so hard that she made too much noise, her mom heard her, and came storming into her room to beat her butt for being such a sinful little slut.
Now if there ever was a girl putting an offer out there, it was this poor girl, rejected by her own mom, and so hungry for parental attention and approval that she was any pedophile’s dream girl. Giving me all that very personal information about herself undoubtedly was an invitation for me to help her physically so she wouldn’t feel so horny.
What did I do? I got her counseling and by the time she went to high school, she had the tools to deal with the fact that life usually sucks. Sara was successful at taking care of herself, graduated, and then disappeared from my radar, the way graduating students almost always do.
I’d always been the good guy. I was a real straight arrow. I was the prototypical Boy Scout that girls claim they want to take home to show off to their mom.
As I said before, life usually sucks, and if you bend over, you’ll probably get screwed without even getting kissed. That was certainly my experience. I was three times divorced. All of the marriages lasted around ten years, and all of my marriages ended because a nice guy just isn’t very exciting.
Add in the low pay a public school teacher makes, and it’s a recipe for relationship disaster. I was always a responsible guy and I worked one or two extra jobs to keep the bills paid. I also tried to make sure my wife didn’t have to buy her clothes at K-Mart by picking up extra construction and painting jobs before her birthday or other gift-giving holidays. Somehow it was never enough, and all three bailed on me.
Now I had to admit that I was partly to blame for picking broken girls to marry. I guess my desire to save the world and fix all the little birds with a broken wing, carried over from teaching, into my personal life. After the last divorce I was determined not to get into a relationship ever again. I would just budget for a hooker, once every two weeks, and I’d be fine.
Now that I was retired, I didn’t have to worry about the “moral turpitude” clause any more, and “Escorts” were the easiest way to keep my pipes clean. Dating, relationships, and especially marriage, always turned out to be way more expensive than just renting a pussy for an hour or two.
Pussy isn’t like real estate. Since it is hardly ever possible to truly own a woman, trying to own pussy just isn’t cost effective. I know you can find submissives or go to some country where there are de facto slaves, but I really didn’t want to work as hard as is necessary to keep even a true submissive psychologically enslaved, let alone make every decision every day for a slave.
I retired at sixty-two because the kids I was getting in my class were no longer little birds with broken wings. They were hard-core gang bangers. Some of them were sixteen years old, and most of them were a foot taller than I was. Their standardized tests said their achievement level was grade six, so they were dumped into my class.
I had been proud of the way I was able to help quite a few kids learn the tricks of “the game of school,” and get them caught up and back in regular classes in a year or two.
With bangers, the only thing they wanted to learn was gang knowledge, drug sales strategy, and the best ways not to get caught by the cops. There was no education going on in my classroom any more, and I was tired of being a prison guard. I turned in my paperwork on my birthday, and I didn’t even wait for the end of the current school year to resign.
I was trying to decide what to do. I was in good health, no mobility problems, I had all my teeth, the B-52 had wiped out some of my hearing, but I was pretty good at lip reading. I wasn’t ready for the rocking chair yet.
My “PLAN A” had been to bum around the Caribbean on the forty-one foot sloop I bought with my 401K savings, but she sank in a hurricane that crossed back and forth across Florida three or four times before finally deciding to go check out New Orleans. My plastic classic was uninsured, so I lost my boat and my savings at the same time. I also had to pay to have the wreck salvaged so the Federal and Florida EPA didn’t fine me for the nasty battery acid, diesel fuel, and engine oil still in the hulk.
I was taking my time trying to come up with “PLAN B.” While I was thinking, I made an appointment with an escort who turned out to be a freshman, working her way through college.
Patty was taller than I am, I’m guessing about six feet two inches, and a little chunky. She had great C cup tits that defied gravity and stuck straight out from her chest. Patty was a sweetie, and she let me do pretty much anything I wanted except anal, or kiss her on the lips. I saw her a few times and my only complaint was that when I went down on her, there was a little too much odor coming from her back door.
I’m an old white guy, and I’d never in my entire life even been remotely attracted to a black girl. Patty was as black as it’s possible to be. It really was a good lesson for me, because I found out her skin was silky smooth and her pussy was very wet, tasted sweet as honey, and was incredibly tight.
The last time I made an appointment with her, she was lying with her head on my chest after I finished, and she said, “You know you are not like my other customers. You go down on me, and make me cum as hard as any guy I was in love with ever did, and when you fuck me, you make me cum even harder.
“I know you are on a budget and can only see me every other week, but I’m betting you could totally take care of me and give me everything I need in and out of bed.
“I’d really like it if you were my only customer, because then I wouldn’t have to treat you like a customer. I’m really hungry to kiss you and I ache for you to fuck me bareback. If you weren’t exactly a customer, I wouldn’t need to treat you like one.” Patty said.
“I wish I could, because I really need you more than every other Friday. I really like your tight little pussy Patty, and I’d love to feel your silky pussy on my cock, not the inside of a rubber. I love the way you shave your pubic hair so you are bare and smooth as a baby’s bottom. You have the most fantastic tits I’ve ever had the pleasure to touch, kiss, lick and suck. You are definitely smart, and you are always really sweet to me. I wish I could come up with the cash, but I couldn’t afford to send my daughter to college, and I can’t do it for you either,” I said
“That’s really too bad. I can’t believe your wife ran out on you after twelve years of marriage, and you raising her three kids. She must be a real bitch. I mean you fuck me as good as any twenty year-old guy, and you are a lot nicer to me in bed, because you think of my pleasure and make me cum first. You are careful to play with my tits the way I like it done, and best of all, you go down on me and totally drive me crazy. I just don’t get why your wife would give up a nice thick cock attached to a nicer man,” Patty said
“Can I ask you a really stupid question Patty? It probably is going to make you think I’m a racist or at least an idiot, but I have to ask,” I said.
“Yeah, since I’m the only black girl you’ve ever been with, and since you made me cum ten times tonight, you get one free pass for a stupid question,” Patty said, giving me a big grin.
“Well, she wanted to do the swinging thing, and because she was a lot younger, I didn’t want to act like I was Mr. Know It All or telling her what to do, so I went along with it for a while. One guy she did it with was a minor league ball player. His cock was as big around as a baseball bat, and nearly a foot long. Afterwards, she said his size didn’t make it any better, but in your experience, do you think size matters?” I asked.
“OK, I get why you needed to ask the question. I’m not pissed at you. It’s complicated honey, because I like white boys. I think you guys are yummy as can be. In high school, I was raiding the white chocolate candy dish every chance I got. I haven’t had very much dark chocolate, so I’m not the best girl to ask. Of the five black guys that I let myself fall for their line, they were the whole range size wise. One was really big, and it hurt more than it pleased me. Three were about your size in length, but you are thicker than two of those and about equal to the other one, and one was smaller.
“From my point of view, you are just the right size to make a girl feel good, honey. You are big enough to make me feel nice and full, but not big enough to hurt, although your cock is pretty fat and it might hurt a virgin or a really little girl. Now maybe some old broad who had her coochie all stretched out from having kids might be into being a size queen, but when I’m thinking about what’s gonna rock my world, you have all the right equipment. For me though, it’s your attitude that makes you a good lover, and that’s why I suggested we try being exclusive for a while. It sucks that money has to get in the way, because I think we could both have big fun together,” Patty told me.
I got dressed and as Patty was walking me to her door, she grabbed me and kissed me on the lips. Her tongue slipped between my lips, and our tongues caressed each other. It was warm and friendly, not at all like a duel.
“Sugar, let’s sit down and actually look at a real budget and see if we can’t work things out. If we were sharing a place, it would be something you are already paying for, along with the electricity. I know I’m a big gal, but I really don’t eat that much. The main thing is, I’m sure you can keep my kitty really, really happy. I’ve never felt like begging a man before, but you can see I feel different about you,” Patty said.
“Patty, I truly wish there was a way, because you are just as sweet as can be and addictive as hell. Unfortunately, I was paying for my ex to go to school before she took off, so I know exactly how much it costs. Your tuition alone would break my piggy bank. I can’t even pay for community college, and you need to go to the state school to get a degree that means something in your field,” I told her.
She kissed me hard and grabbed my cock, trying to get me hard again. She’d already got me off twice, so my cock continued its limp noodle impersonation.
“I like you too much to make a romantic gesture that is doomed to fail Patty. I think about how wet your pussy gets, the way it is such a pretty dark, dark shade of pink inside. I’d love to find out how good it feels for my cock to slide into your incredible tightness, with no rubber in the way, the first thing every morning, when I wake up. I’d love for us to fuck each other to sleep every night. I’d like to find out if I had more practice, I could make you cum so hard it makes you scream or squirt. If I had the money, I’d sure as hell want to see if I could keep you happy. I’m just too poor, and I don’t want you to end up having to drop out because we were thinking with our genitals and counted on a wishful thinking budget,” I declared.
Patty kissed me again and pushed my hands against her tits. Her nipples were hard and thrust out from her breasts like two chunks of a big Tootsie Roll. I knew she wanted me to lose my self-control and take her nipples in my mouth and suck them and lick them until she was able to get me hard again, fuck me senseless, and make my stupefied brain agree to be her sugar daddy.
My father often told me that I had absolutely no self-control, but I surprised myself and kissed Patty goodbye and walked out her door.
When I got home, there was a curious email in the account I’d had since 1989. It was a little strange, but I read it again and figured out that it was from Von, the guy who was the Electronic Warfare Officer or EWO on the B-52 crew I served on as the Navigator.
Von and I had run wild in Thailand while we were stationed there, but I hadn’t heard from him since I got out of the Air Force in 1975, to get my Master’s degree and pick up the requirements for a teaching certificate.
The email was trying to find out if I was the right George, without giving away too much information.
I wrote back to Von that yes indeed, the account belonged to the infamous Captain Easy.
My crew liked to give everyone a nickname. Mine came from two sources. The crew commander told me it was my job to figure out how we could do things like bag drags the easiest way possible. A bag drag is what we called moving all our crew and personal equipment from one place to another, for example from a transport aircraft to our quarters or from quarters to a B-52. I’d made a few suggestions about how to get things done with the least work, and I’d been lucky enough to be right almost all the time. The second was that I could never say no to a pretty Thai girl, and any time we were allowed off base, I was hooking up with a Thai girl. I was damn easy back then. At the time, there was a newspaper comic strip named “Captain Easy,” so I got that nickname instead of Captain Lazy or Horn Dog.
Ten minutes later I was talking to Von on Skype. I had been thinking about moving to Thailand so I could afford more pussy by keeping my food and housing costs lower. Since we had such a good time chasing the girls in 1973, I wondered if he was cooking up a similar plan.
“Hey George. Are you a lazy bastard like me and retired at sixty-two?” Von asked.
“Sure am. I had to get out of that place before my students killed me for asking them to do a worksheet or two,” I replied.
“I see you’re still an animal,” Von said with a laugh, referring to the Animals song I’d referenced.
“Yeah, the last ex says I’m still “insatiable,” I admitted.
“So here’s the deal, I’ve been thinking about going back to Thailand, but guys who have been there lately say it is more expensive and not as much fun as when you and I chased LBFMs. (The guys who did tours in Thailand in the 1960s started calling Thai bar girls Little Brown Fucking Machines.)
You know because we were on BUFFs (We called B-52s BUFFs, which stood for Big Ugly Fat Fucker) we never got to go to the Philippines, but the tanker guys and the trash haulers (cargo plane crews) all loved that place. Since Clark and Subic Bay closed, it isn’t the den of iniquity it once was, but the girls are still pretty, and the cost of living is still pretty cheap. One good thing is that many more people in The Philippines can speak or at least understand English than the people in Thailand. I was thinking of making a scouting trip to see if it met my depraved and very, very low standards,” Von explained.
“So did you want to make this a joint operation?” I asked.
“That’s why I was trying to find you. You do better at getting out of trouble than any asshole I’ve ever known. You were on your way to jail son, never to see the light of day, or America the Beautiful again. Then that Thai Army judge let your sorry butt go and lectured the girl for pulling a machete on you. Just fucking unbelievable man! So if I’m going to an exotic port, I figured it would be good to have you and your unique skill set along,” Von said.
“It really was self defense, Von. I wasn’t going to let her cut my face and make little girls and babies cry when I had to go to Wal-Mart or something. I really didn’t mean to crack her head open with that Jack Daniels bottle. I was just trying to block the machete. That Thai Army Lt. Colonel understood that sometimes in a combat situation there can be collateral damage. He was wise enough to see that the initial aggressor has to expect some kind of defense. Expecting me to just stand there and let her cut me was totally unrealistic,” I said.
We organized our trip, and at midnight, three months later, our flight from Hong Kong was touching down in Manila. We got through Customs and took a cab to the Holiday Inn. Fortunately, since it was 2AM, the Manila traffic was as light as it ever gets, and it only took an hour to get from the International Terminal to Ortigas, where the Holiday Inn was located.
We were worn out after twenty-five hours from JFK to Hong Kong, a two-hour layover, and a two-hour flight to Manila, so we crashed on our separate beds and slept until housekeeping woke us up the next day.
Manila is hot, so we cleaned up and went out that night to explore. The taxi drivers didn’t want to use their meter and demanded a ridiculous fare to go to the sin district in Makati, but eventually we found one guy who wanted to get a fare enough to agree to take us for 500php instead of the 1000php the other drivers were asking. He took us to P. Burgos Street, and dropped us off in front of the Makati Palace Hotel.
Von and I walked to all the bars and clubs along the street. There were some cute girls, but almost all of them looked the worse for wear. We gave up in the wee hours and got a taxi back to the Holiday Inn.
We got online and started checking for less expensive hotels. We found several in the P. Burgos area of Makati that were much cheaper. We planned to move the next day.
Von thought of looking on Craigslist to see if any girls were advertising. He found several ads for girls he liked. I found an ad for an Escort Service, so I went to their web page and checked them out. I found two girls in their gallery who looked cute, so I called and made a date with one of them for Wednesday at 7PM.
Tracy knocked on my hotel room door a few minutes after 7PM. I gave her the envelope with the monetary gift for her time, and after she confirmed it was all there, she asked me to undress and take a shower with her. Fortunately the shower was big enough for two and there was hot water. After she soaped me up and rinsed me off, I was hard and ready to go.
Tracy let me go down on her, and she had three small orgasms before she asked me to move on to the main event.
She seemed like she was in her twenties. She was about four feet ten inches tall and weighed maybe eighty pounds. She had firm natural A cup breasts that didn’t sag, and they were nice full little cones that stood straight out from her chest, not floppy, empty bags.
She insisted I use a condom, which was a lot smarter than how we did things in Thailand back in 1973. Back then, bareback was the norm.
The “Full Service” was nice, and she was cooperative and enthusiastic. Even though it always takes me a long time to cum when wearing a condom, she didn’t have another orgasm by the time I blasted off. She cuddled with me in bed and told me what was going on in a Tagalog language TV show that was on. We were kissing, touching, and generally having a good time.
A week later, I made an appointment with Tracy, and she brought her girlfriend Sunshine along. I enjoyed the idea of a threesome more than the actual thing. Sunshine was younger than Tracy, maybe nineteen years old. She was taller, about five feet six inches, which is pretty tall for a Filipina. She was very slim, and when I slipped my condom-covered cock in her pussy, she was incredibly tight. It was difficult for me to penetrate her, and I got a little embarrassed because I wasn’t harder. I lost my erection, and we all took a break. When I got hard again, Tracy wanted me to fuck Sunshine, and I really wanted to feel her incredibly tight pussy squeezing my cock again, but I felt an emotional connection with Tracy and I had absolutely no feelings for Sunshine. Even when I was a teenager, I couldn’t fuck a girl who didn’t have a two-way emotional connection with me.
I could feel that Tracy was crushing on me a little, so I got a fresh condom, put the petite girl on her back and guided my cock into her pussy instead. I fucked her through two hard orgasms before I filled the condom with my semen.
Tracy sent Sunshine home, and Tracy and I lay in bed with our arms wrapped around each other, kissing, touching, and smiling at each other.
We ended up moving into a condo together. Tracy had a degree in Hotel and Restaurant Management. I paid the bribe to get her a job, and Tracy went to work as the night manager at a small hotel in Makati. The hotel had a 24-hour coffee shop. It wasn’t a dump, and was a place where she could be proud to work.
Our condo was walking distance from the hotel, and we spent our days making love as often as we could, then sleeping, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Tracy wasn’t as tight as Sunshine, but she was tighter than any of my wives; she kept really clean so she smelled and tasted yummy, she kissed me passionately on the lips, she let me fuck her bareback, and she realized that sucking my cock was the best way to get me hard. She didn’t ask for too much money for her mom, and I didn’t mind me putting a 500php a month limit on money for mama. I don’t think there is much more a guy can ask for in a girlfriend.
Tracy introduced me to some of her friends. Most of them were women who had been escorts and quit when they accomplished their goals or the market decided they were too old to continue in the oldest profession. Most of Tracy’s friends were single mothers.
I haven’t figured out why parents in The Philippines name their kids some of the things they do. For example, Tracy has one friend named, “Pretty,” who had never been beautiful, even as a baby. Another friend was named, “Princess,” but she was born to one of the poorest families you can imagine, so she never dressed or acted like a princess.
Pretty lived in the same building with Tracy and me. She worked at least eighteen hours a day to afford to send her daughter to a private school. Jan was ten years old when I met her. She was as beautiful as her mother wasn’t. She was intelligent, polite, and for some unknown reason, she liked me right away.
One night when Tracy was at work, Pretty knocked on our door. She was frantic because her regular babysitter was sick and couldn’t watch Jan that night. Pretty begged me to watch Jan. Pretty pointed out that it was already Jan’s bedtime, and she would just be asleep. Pretty would be done with work and home before Jan needed to get up to get ready for school.
I agreed, and Pretty ran off to get to work at her second job.
I got out my iPad, took the elevator down to Pretty’s condo, got settled in an upholstered chair, and started reading one of my Kindle books. After a couple of hours, I got bored and started searching the Internet for porn stories.
I don’t know if anyone who is acknowledged to be wise ever said this, but a person should be careful what he or she reads. Ideas you may not be able to get rid of can come into your mind through your books, stories, or Internet content.
Why was I searching for porn stories? I grew up before the VHS tape was invented, so my porn of choice in my formative years was the porn novelette, or “one hander.” Of course they don’t exist now in what used to be called “Adult Bookstores” because no one reads any more.
I don’t know why I started reading that story. It was about a fourteen year-old girl named Krissy, who was able to see into the bathroom in her house through a gap in the doorframe. One day she watched her father masturbating while he was sitting on the toilet. Krissy got so horny she decided she wanted to seduce her father.
Krissy’s mom didn’t give her husband sex very often, so he gave in to Krissy’s desires quickly. Her dad was a good guy, and they had a great love affair going. I had been in three similar marriages and considered myself the prototypical good guy, so I really identified with Krissy’s dad.
I agreed with the story’s idea that at fourteen, Krissy was old enough to decide for herself if she wanted to have sex.
I bought the story’s argument that the incest taboo is obsolete. If both people wanted to have sex, no one was being tricked, manipulated, coerced, or hurt; then what harm was there in a daughter making love with her father?
I sure as hell wished I had a fourteen year-old daughter crushing on me! I’d definitely give her everything she wanted I thought to myself.
Right after I finished reading the story, Jan woke up. She came out to the living room, grinned at me and ran to jump on my lap. “Uncle George! I’m so happy to see you. What are you doing here?” Jan asked.
“Ate Jukie got sick and she couldn’t stay with you, so your mom asked me to stay here to make sure you are OK,” I told her. (Ate is a Tagalog word that means ‘sister’ or ‘auntie’ when you are using it as an honorary title for a nanny or housekeeper. It does not imply the person is a family member. Jukie is a common female first name in The Philippines.)
“I’m not sleepy right now. Can you read one of those silly books by Doctor Seuss to me? Please Uncle George,” Jan asked.
“OK Jan. I’ll read just one, then you have to go back to bed,” I said.
“Oh alright Uncle George. I promise I’ll go back to bed after one book,” Jan agreed.
I had “Fox in Sox” on my iPad for some crazy reason. Jan giggled at all the silly rhymes and she was laughing so hard when I read the part about Tweetle Beetles, I thought she was going to fall off my lap.
When I finished reading, Jan threw her arms around my neck. She said, “Thank you Uncle George!” and she kissed me on the cheek.
Jan ran to the bathroom, and then she went back to bed. I couldn’t believe what had happened to me as soon as the little girl sat on my lap. I got harder than I did with 100mg of Viagra and sexy Tracy naked and spread wide on the bed waiting for me to fill her little cunt. Why? After all, Jan was cute, but she was only four feet tall, her chest was totally flat, and she was definitely a little girl. I didn’t understand it. Did that story about the girl hot for her father have that much impact on me?
I became Jan’s emergency baby sitter. Over the next two years, I watched her around once every month. Just about every time I watched her, Jan would “wake up” and come to sit on my lap. We graduated from Dr. Seuss to Harry Potter, The Hobbit, and the Lord of the Rings Trilogy and then she asked me to read Twilight to her. Jan still sat on my lap. I still got a hard-on the second her little butt settled onto my lap.
Shortly after Jan’s twelfth birthday, I was watching her one night. Jan came out to see me. This time she settled gently on my lap and cuddled up against me, kissing my cheek. She whispered, “Do you think I’m pretty Uncle George?”
“No honey, you aren’t pretty, you are beautiful,” I said.
Jan smiled and kissed my lips. “Do you think I’m sexy? I think you do because you get hard every time I sit on your lap,” She said.
“Honey, you are much too young to worry about being sexy. You should think about doing well in school and getting a good education so you can get a good job someday,” I told her.
“Did you know that Philippine law says a girl is old enough to give her consent to have sex when she’s twelve?” Jan asked.
“That may be what’s written in the law, but I’ll bet the police would throw me in jail if they found out I had sex with a twelve year old girl even if she gave me permission,” I said.
“How would they find out? If a girl wants to have sex with you, why would she tell anyone if it could get you in trouble?” Jan asked.
“Well honey, sometimes a girl likes sex a lot and wants to tell her best friend how good it felt. Her friend forgets it’s a secret and tells someone else, then it gets out, goes viral, and a teacher or a parent hears about it, and then I’m on my way to jail. You see almost all countries think a girl is too young to give consent until she is at least sixteen to eighteen years old, depending on the country. Most governments say they want to protect girls, and so they say if you are younger than some magic age, for example eighteen in many countries, you aren’t competent to give your consent, so if anyone has sex with you, even if you asked them to make love with you, it’s the same as them raping you,” I explained.
“That’s not fair. I know when I’m horny, and I know who might be someone I want to have sex with. It should only be up to me to decide,” Jan asserted, loudly.
“I agree with you Jan, but there are bad people who hurt children, and it seems like a good idea to try to protect children who can’t protect themselves from bad people. It is complicated to figure out if a law protects children, and whether that is more important than taking away the right of a girl, who gets horny younger than most girls, to choose a partner and have sex.
“Lots of people have different ideas about what is the right age. In some countries, the age to vote, drink, and have sex are all the same. If there is an indigenous culture that has a tradition that establishes a different age of consent, the government may recognize that tradition, but only for members of the indigenous group, and only if they live in the ancestral location as part of a tribe or community.
“There are some practical considerations too. Mohammed thought a girl should be able to marry and have sex when she was nine years old. Now back then, her husband might be twelve or fourteen. The penis of a boy that age is almost always smaller than the penis of an adult man. If her husband was twelve, his cock probably wouldn’t hurt her. A twelve year-old boy probably wouldn’t push hard enough to hurt his nine year-old bride that his parents had picked for him. Today rich old men might use ideas from long ago to justify having a child bride. If that adult man has sex with his nine year-old bride, his penis might make her vagina tear and bleed, especially if he isn’t careful and pushes into her hard. It will hurt her and it might damage her vagina permanently. Sometimes child brides even bleed to death.
“Some countries say if there is only one or two years difference between teenagers’ ages, they are exempt from the age of consent law and won’t be charged with a crime if they get caught having sex.
“I disagree with most people about how capable teenagers are to understand complicated things and make decisions based on what they learn and understand. I’ve met lots of teenagers who live on farms and ranches who can make adult decisions at a much younger age than city kids because they have had more responsibility and chances to make decisions that matter from the time they first became teenagers. To me that proves that if teens have a chance to get adult information they are able to make adult decisions,” I said.
“It sounds like you think a girl needs to be at least thirteen to make her own decisions about having sex,” Jan said.
“Like I said, it is really complicated to decide what age to put in a law to protect kids. A number of cultures and religions made the age of consent thirteen back in ancient times, but I was talking about the big majority of girls. There are always a few people who are smarter than the average person and develop the ability to make decisions about their lives a lot earlier than most people,” I explained.
“Well, it’s time to stop talking in generalities Uncle George. The reason I asked what you think is because I’m horny all the time. I don’t trust boys my age, and I don’t trust older teenage boys even more.
“I’ve had a crush on you for over a year, Uncle George, and I want you to be the man to love me and help me not feel horny all the time. I want you to teach me and have sex with me. That’s why I want to know if you think I’m sexy,” Jan said.
“Wow Jan, I’m so proud that you think I’m the man you can trust. From talking with you tonight, I’m sure you understand things and are competent to make your own decisions.
“I do think you are sexy, and you’ve noticed that I get hard when you sit on my lap, so there is no reason for me to lie to you about it. If it was simple and just about feeling love and thinking you are sexy, I’d make love with you right now. The problem is, it’s a lot more complicated.
“First, like I said a little bit ago, my adult penis could be too big for your pre-teen body. It might do permanent damage to your body or it could hurt so badly that you’d never like sex for the rest of your life. I think that’s really the most important thing to think about, because I never want to hurt you.
“It’s possible to do sexual things that can help you have orgasms and that will help you not feel like you are going crazy from being horny, without putting a penis into your vagina. The problem is that once a couple starts doing sexual things, they usually want to do more and more and more until they finally have done everything two people can do together. Once you are a couple doing sexual things, it gets harder and harder to wait to do everything. For most people, oral sex and rubbing each other with fingers, will give both people orgasms, but it just isn’t as satisfying as penis in vagina sexual intercourse for many, many women and a whole lot of men,” I told her.
“So if we love each other and we start kissing and petting and going down on each other, it will pretty quickly become impossible for us not to have intercourse?” Jan asked.
“I like how you ask questions to make sure you understand things. You understood exactly what I was saying. If we said we would just do things that feel good but don’t require my penis to penetrate your vagina, we would be fooling ourselves and I would be making you a promise I couldn’t keep. It wouldn’t be just me either. You would want to feel me inside you so badly that you’d beg me to make love to you. You’d tell me that you are big enough so we could do it without hurting you. We’d start out being careful, but then both of us would get excited and we’d probably rush putting my cock inside you and I’d end up hurting you.
“I’m not saying we can never make love, but I think we need to wait until you are fourteen before we try. We should both feel like we are in love with each other before we make love too. Just because I’m the man you know best and you trust me doesn’t mean I’m the right guy to make love to you; especially if we aren’t really in love,” I said.
“Is there a way we can do things to stretch my vagina with your fingers so your penis will fit inside me sooner?” Jan asked.
“I wish there was honey, but I don’t think we could do anything effective before we both wanted to make love so badly we couldn’t wait any longer. Sometimes oral sex or fingering just make a girl hornier and want intercourse even more.
“We also need to think about how what you and I do will affect other people. Tracy counts on me to take care of her. We make love, and we feel love for each other. If you and I start a love affair, I can’t stay with Tracy. I can only love one woman at a time. If I tell her I’m in love with you so much that I can’t love her any more, it will really hurt her.
“If we are in love, and we are making love, you couldn’t live with your mom any more. We would need to live together, just like we were married, but it wouldn’t be legal for us to be married until you are twenty-one. That would hurt your mom, because she would worry about you. She would be afraid that I wouldn’t take care of you, and that she wouldn’t be able to protect you if I turned out to be a bad man.
“There is another great big thing I’m sure you’ve thought about, but I kind of have to beat you over the head with it, because I love you and I don’t want you to be hurt. I’m sixty-three years old. That’s fifty-one years older than you are. I might expect to live as long as my grandfather. He died when he was ninety-seven. If I live that long, that gives me thirty-four more years. That sounds like a long time for us to be a couple and to love each other. The scary thing for me is that you’d be forty-six when I died. For most women, it takes a couple of years to get over the death of their partner and to be ready to find another person to be her partner for the rest of her life. That means you would be nearly fifty years old, and many women find it’s almost impossible to find a good partner at that age.
“If you are a woman who doesn’t get over becoming a widow and you don’t want to look for a new partner, that means you would be all alone, with no one to make love to you, for fifty years or more.
“However, I’ve already had two kinds of cancer and I had to have a kidney removed. My grandfather didn’t have those medical problems. There is no way to know how long I’ll live. The idea that I’m going to live as long as my grandfather did is probably wishful thinking.
“Another way I could hurt you is if we fall in love, start making love, and then I get sick. I might get better, but maybe not a complete recovery and then you might have to take care of me, like I was a baby. I might have to wear diapers, and you’d have to change them and clean me up. We wouldn’t get to go places and do fun things together. Worst of all, I might not be able to make love with you and keep you satisfied. There are several reasons why you and me falling in love is a huge risk and probably a terrible idea,” I explained.
“I understand that you want to be the good guy. You always do. My heart says that I love you already and I want you too much to worry about other people. You’ve taken care of Tracy for over two years. You paid her bribe and got her a good job. She is doing a good job at work, and she is about to get promoted. She will be the daytime assistant manager at the hotel, and she’ll be in charge of the coffee shop, the fancy restaurant, room service, and event catering. She is going to be making more money than your pensions pay you. She will be able to afford a nice place to live. She doesn’t have a kid that you promised to take care of and you guys didn’t make a baby together, so while it might make her feel bad, it isn’t doing anything really mean to tell her your feelings have changed, if you decide you love me and want me for your woman.
“My mom has always had to work two or three jobs to pay for my school. She has never been home the whole time I was a kid. I really don’t have an emotional bond with her. I mean I’m grateful for everything she’s done for me and how hard she worked, and the sacrifices she made, but she’s been going around being all proud of herself and telling everybody all about her sacrifices, like she’s some martyr, for years. It makes me feel like that should be reward enough for her because to me, it always felt like she was doing it for her ego more than for me.
“I want to live with you. You can afford my school, and then she would be able to just work one job. We can get to know each other, like we are engaged, and when you think I’m old enough so it won’t hurt me, we can start making love. I promise I won’t rush you to make love to me if you don’t think my pussy is big enough yet. I’ll be really careful never to talk to my friends about us being together. I’m a good cook, and I like taking care of you. Have you noticed how happy I get when you are sick and I make chicken soup for you, or tomato soup and the grilled cheese sandwiches you taught me to make?” Jan said.
“I agree that it would be a lot of fun to be engaged and to play house together. The problem is that if we are living together, it will be just the same as starting to do sexual things with each other. You’ll want to sleep in the same bed. I’ll cuddle you and be gentle, like you were my little girl. You’ll press your sexy little body against me, and your brain will go, OH DAMN, I need more than cuddling! At the same time, the feel of you pressed tight against me will make my cock get hard, and you’ll feel it, and your brain will go, OH, THAT’S what I NEED! I need that inside me NOW!. Neither of us will be able to resist Mother Nature’s plan. We are wired to want to make love so babies can get made, whether we want babies or not.
“Even if we decided you should sleep in your own bed, it still wouldn’t stop us from getting caught in Mother Nature’s web. I’d see you every day, and my erections would happen every day instead of just every month or so. The memory of how you feel with your little bottom wiggling on my lap wouldn’t have a chance to go away. I’d see you in something like one of my old Tee shirts that you took to sleep in, and a pair of panties. The shirt being too big would let the neck sag down and I’d see the top of your pretty breasts. You’d bend over or reach for something on a high shelf in the kitchen, and I’d see your sexy little bottom with your panties stretched tight over those beautiful curves, and I’d get hard.
“Then one day you’d forget that you were just wearing a bra and panties and you’d come to get something, and I’d see how you were growing, and so much sexier than when you were the little girl I first started falling in love with, and I’d NEED to be making love with you. You’d be just as much in love. It would make you feel proud that I wanted YOU more than a grownup woman, and so you would either want to make love too, or you would do it to give me what I wanted because you love me. Either way, it wouldn’t be very long at all before we were making love.
“At the beginning, we’d be sure that nothing was going to happen, so we wouldn’t put you on birth control. We wouldn’t be prepared when our self-control broke down. When that happened, it would be like a dam bursting and we would end up running for the bedroom and we’d be making love without thinking of the consequences. You’d probably get pregnant, and if the police didn’t throw me in jail, it might ruin your body and your life by having a baby when you are too young,” I said.
“So let’s not be stupid. Let’s put me on birth control right away, knowing that eventually we won’t be able to wait any more, and we WILL start making love. That way, we’ll be prepared, and I won’t get pregnant.
“All the other risks you talked about are your insecure brain trying to come up with worst case scenarios to try to scare me out of doing what both of us really want,” Jan said, defiantly.
“I think we need to wait until you are fourteen, talk things over again, and see if you still feel the same way,” I told her.
“You sure are stubborn, and in some ways, incredibly dumb. I guarantee that this is one of the decisions you are going to kick yourself for when you are an old man. You’ll think, DAMN, Jan would have fucked me when she was twelve, and I let her hot little body, and even hotter little pussy, slip away because I was too chicken to take her up on her offer. One of these days you’ll cry over not being brave enough to make love to me today, Uncle George,” Jan said.
I tried to ignore the fat tears in the corner of her big, black, almond shaped eyes. I told myself she was probably acting to try to melt my heart and get her way. I told myself that I was the adult in the room, and knew what was best.
Jan’s mom decided her daughter was old enough to be alone in the condo while she was working, so Pretty stopped calling me to babysit. It evolved into a, “Jan has your number and will call you if she needs help,” arrangement.
Every once in a while Tracy would want us to drop by Pretty’s condo to chat. Those infrequent visits let me see how Jan was growing, blossoming, becoming a hot, sexy teenager. I saw her hips getting a little wider, and although she was still twelve, her body began to look more like a young woman’s, capable of breeding, than a little girl’s. As Jan predicted, I started kicking myself. I was a complete idiot, and I stubbornly stuck by my decision, convinced I was doing it because that was what was best for Jan.
We were invited to Jan’s thirteenth birthday party. Tracy did get promoted to day shift, so she was able to attend. I asked my friend Von to come to the party. He was still content to rent rather than buy, and was still enjoying having a different girl every time. He never did have the need to feel some kind of fondness for a girl before he fucked her. If she was pretty, shapely, and willing, he was good to go.
On the way up to our condo for a beer and a chat Von poked his elbow in my ribs and whispered, “That gorgeous little vixen totally wants your sorry, ancient ass!”
Tracy went to bed so she’d be ready for work the next day. I closed the bedroom door, and Von and I moved to the far corner of the living room. Sipping icy Cerveza Negras, we quietly continued the conversation.
“Yes, she made me a plain as day offer when she was only twelve. I’ve been trying to put off the inevitable as long as possible so she won’t totally hate me for the pain when I pop her cherry,” I admitted.
“You are a total and complete idiot. You are going to kick yourself when she falls in love with some Pinoy and all you are left with is bitter memories of what might have been,” Von said.
“That’s what Jan told me, although she likes me, so she left out the part about the Pinoy,” I said.
“Well, you should listen to her. You ought to take her seriously. There’s a woman’s brain with all of a woman’s thoughts, desires, and needs inside that little body. You are the worst kind of idiot for not giving that sweet girl what she needs.
“I’ll bet you are lying to yourself and telling yourself you are not making love to her for her own good.
“Don’t you know that when a lovely little female risks everything to tell you her little pussy needs you, that you have an obligation to take care of her and at least kiss her owie and make the itchy feeling go away?
“You always claimed to know and love Heinlein, but it’s obvious you never understood “Glory Road.” As a hero wayfaring in a strange land, you have certain responsibilities. The least of these is to give succor to a maiden in distress, especially when your ugly mug is what’s causing or at least exacerbating her distress, to the point where masturbating isn’t helping her any more. You really need to brush up on your understanding of “Noblesse Oblige,” although I’m well aware you ain’t got a noble bone in your ancient carcass!” Von scolded.
“I’ve never been a hero. I just took a big aluminum tube from point A to point B, killed jungle bugs and made bamboo toothpicks with a shitload of 500lb bombs,” I protested.
“Quit avoiding the real issue. You were hero enough to risk getting shot out of the sky. You did things a bunch of other people were too chicken to do,” Von said.
“Actually I was doing it so my dad didn’t kick my ass. I was fighting a war because I was too much of a damn coward to stand up to my father, even after I knew for sure that stupid war had no purpose except to use up war stuff and make the billionaires who own the companies that make the bombs and shit, even richer,” I admitted.
“So did your little love tell you that you are a big chicken and that you ought to act like a big boy and do what you know you should?” Von asked.
“She did mention that very thing, and she is 100% correct. I’m scared as hell of jail, hurting the precious child, and most of all being hopelessly in love with a goddess who is so far out of my league that Aphrodite herself seems more on my level than Jan does,” I confessed.
“I get it. You are three times burned. You have to come to grips with the real issue, which is NOT that you don’t trust HER to have the integrity to stay in love with you and stick with you even if you are sick or pooping your pants. It’s that you don’t believe YOU have the right stuff to keep her in love with you over the long haul.
“You have to remember that she fell in love with you when her sense of romance and her idealism were at their peak. More importantly, she’s a Filipina, and she totally believes in true love lasting forever, and that your ages are just numbers with no particular significance. If you have the guts to love her as totally and completely as she deserves, she’ll love you forever, if not longer. So tell me punk, do you have the guts to be the luckiest fucking man on the face of the earth, or are you a big clucking chicken?” Von challenged me.
“If I wasn’t so afraid of jail, I could do it. Did you know that my grandfather had me make a delivery at the Polk County Jail when I was in about eighth grade, and he asked the jailer to “accidentally” lock me in the padded cell to scare me straight? I hadn’t even J-walked at that point. After four hours in that cell, I’ve been petrified of jail ever since. I don’t have enough money to keep a blackmailer happy, so I’m terrified that if she ever slipped up or her mom got mad at me, or Tracy was pissed at me for falling in love with a teenager, that I’d be some bad man’s bitch with a seriously stretched anal sphincter,” I said.
“It’s all bullshit. You remember Patty, back in Florida? She was basically a hooker, but she liked the way you did her well enough to offer to go out of business and take care of you exclusively. Same deal with Tracy. That means you know what the hell you are doing when you get a girl in bed, and even if you are paying for it, she wants to find an excuse to give it to you for free.
“Think about a girl who NEEDS you so badly she’s brave enough to tell a man old enough to be her grandfather that she wants him, not just tonight, but every night from now until forever. You work the same magic on her, and she’ll be yours until the end of time, you big ugly moron. You really do have a way of ignoring very important facts,” Von told me.
We drank up all the beer in the fridge and Von headed home around midnight.
Jan called me around 1AM.
“Come see me, Uncle George. We need to talk again,” The newly minted teenager said.
I went down to Pretty’s condo, and Jan was waiting for me with the door open. She was wearing a robe that covered up her freshly showered body, and she had a towel wrapped around her just washed hair. She grabbed my hand, pulled me inside the condo, and locked the door. She led me to the couch and asked me to sit down.
“Get comfy Uncle George. You might want to hold on to the arm of the couch or something,” She said with a little giggle.
Jan dropped her robe, and she was standing in front of me wearing only a tiny white bra and matching bikini panties. The fabric of the bra cups was nearly transparent. The tiny triangles covered her light brown nipples, and not much more. Although the bra covered her breasts and nipples, I could see every detail quite clearly through the filmy cloth. The edges of her bra were trimmed in baby blue ribbon, and the same satin ribbon decorated the shoulder straps.
The panties were trimmed in the same baby blue satin ribbon around the waistband and around the leg openings. There was a small bow made of the same ribbon at the center of the front panel, just below the waistband.
Even though her panties had a double gusset, I could see every detail of her mound and her fat, puffy labia. The wet spot on the gusset was quite large, and I could smell her natural sex perfume quite clearly.
While my mind took in the details of her pretty lingerie’, my eyes were riveted to her pussy, and her scent had already turned my brain to jelly.
“Does this look like a little girl’s body Uncle George? Are you really going to tell me that you can resist me now that you’ve seen me almost naked?” Jan asked.
“I’m an idiot Jan. I’m a coward, and not brave enough to be worthy of a sexy girl like you. I’m just so afraid of going to jail; I can’t get myself to do what I know I should do. Everything else I’ve said was just an excuse, trying to cover up for being too afraid to let you love me the way you want to and keeping myself from loving you the way you need and deserve,” I said.
“Well, I can’t do anything about your irrational fears. At least you were honest with me,” Jan said, with a heavy note of sadness in her voice.
She reached behind her back and opened the hooks of her bra. She leaned forward, and let the filmy garment fall to the floor. She pulled the waistband of her panties down over her hips and let them fall to her ankles. She stepped out of her panties with her left foot and then flicked them across the room with a kick of her long, shapely right leg.
Jan came to stand right in front of me; her naked body less than six inches from my nose. Her flawless, flat tummy was immediately in front of my eyes, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her swollen, puffy labia. Her pussy lips looked dewy with her lubricating juices, and her scent surrounded me like a velvet cloud, setting both my brain and my body on fire with desire for her.
“I know you are a man of integrity who never once molested one of your students. You are stupidly proud of it. I know you think you are doing what’s right, and what’s best for me. I know you aren’t going to give in and give me what I NEED. So I’m going to show you in detail what you could have this very second.
“When you think I’m old enough, I may have already fallen for someone brave enough to go from desire to action. I may not be waiting for you when you finally overcome your fear. Then you can cry and remember everything I tried and tried to give you,” Jan said in a breathy, near-whisper.
Standing there in front of me, so close I could feel the heat of her body on my face, Jan was a totally lovely teenage girl. She was tall for a Filipina, at least five feet six inches already. Her skin was dark tan or light brown, depending on how the light danced off of her. She looked silky smooth all over.
Jan had never been plagued with the acne that torments lots of teens in the Philippines, scarring their faces forever. Her face was flawless, beautiful, and perfect in every way. Her mouth was proportioned to fit her face. Her lips were full but not plump. I realized Jan’s lips were meant to kiss and be kissed.
Why couldn’t I just give in and use her lips for what they were meant for? Why couldn’t I just kiss her? Jan’s body was meant for a man to make love to and ultimately to father children on. Why couldn’t I just accept the gift Jan was trying to give me and make love to her? What the hell was wrong with me?
Maybe my little part of the war was too easy. Flying over the fighting in the jungle, in a B-52 wasn’t really the same as combat on the ground. Maybe if I’d had to slog through the jungles and rice paddies, conquering my fear as I fought in the mud and the blood, when I was a young man, I would have become an Oscar Gordon kind of hero. Maybe I would feel worthy to win my very own goddess. Maybe having to fight for her would be easier than Jan wanting to give herself to me. I’m an idiot. I know nothing.
Jan cupped her breasts and said, “I’m already a B cup, and that’s a whole cup size bigger that Tracy. My body is built for sex, Uncle George. I can give myself an orgasm just by playing with my nipples. It’s nice when I do it myself, but I’ll bet it would be so much better if you were the one rolling my hard nipples between your thumb and finger. Want to try?”
I fought to keep my fingers from darting across the scant inches between our bodies to caress her beautiful, full mammary cones and the brown nipples crowning them. The light brown nipples looked so hard, I thought they must be painful. I wanted to kiss her delicious looking mounds of tit flesh and lash those fat nipples with my tongue. It took almost super human effort not to imprison her nipples between my lips, lave them with my tongue, and suck them into my hungry mouth. Fool that I am, I didn’t touch her hot teenage body at all.
Jan lifted her right leg and put her foot on the seat of the couch, touching my right thigh with her foot. She opened her labia and showed me how wet her inner lips were. She got some of her lubricating liquid on her finger, and she teased and stroked her clitoris to full erection. When her bud of nerves was hard and her clitoral hood was fully retracted, she said, “I can cum over and over Uncle George. My pussy is incredibly wet and hot when I put my fingers inside myself. My body and my vagina have never been touched by a man, Uncle George. My pussy has only been penetrated by my own little fingers. Think about how tight my hot, wet little pussy must be. Can you imagine how much like heaven it would be for you if your cock were inside me right now, where I want it, and where it was meant to be? I’m so wet, Uncle George, I’ll bet you would just slide right inside me, easy as can be. I’ll bet it wouldn’t hurt a bit, and all I’d feel was pleasure at finally having you inside me, giving me what I need.
“Look at everything about this teenage girl right in front of your face, and know for a fact she wants to give everything, every bit of herself, every delicious part of her hot little body, to you and only you. She wants to love you with every part of this body every day and every night for the rest of eternity.
“Oh I can see in your eyes that you want me. I can see you know what you should do. But I can also see you are still afraid. How sad it must be to be you, never brave enough to take what you really want. How sad not to be brave enough to accept the gift I ache to give you,” Jan whispered.
Jan reached out and took my right hand. She pressed it tightly against her right breast.
“I want to give myself to you Uncle George. Just take me and love me the way you know you should,” Jan demanded.
At that moment, her mother walked in the door. “What are you doing to my daughter?” Pretty screamed.
“Oh mom, he isn’t doing anything, damn him. I want to give myself to Uncle George to love forever. He’s so worried about what’s legal, he won’t do what’s right and take me!” Jan yelled in frustration.
“Go to your room NOW Jan!” Pretty barked.
“You interrupted and ruined my attempted seduction of this big idiot. I hope you are happy with ruining my only chance for happiness and destroying my life, mother.” Jan said in a biting tone.
She scooped up her bra, panties, and robe and stomped off to her room. She banged her door shut with a monumental crash that shook the condo.
Pretty decided not to call the police, but forbid me to ever come to the condo unless she was there.
Pretty must have told Tracy about finding Jan and me together with Jan totally naked, because our love life started to evaporate, and our relationship became more than frosty. It was damn Antarctic cold on her side of the bed, and I was suffering from frostbite of the soul.
I went to Boracay alone to get warm. I got picked up by an eighteen year old French girl with a thing for adorable, teddy bear, grandpa looking guys. She wore me out and loved me into a much needed attitude adjustment. When I went back to Manila, I was able to smile again.
I didn’t know what I’d find when I opened the door to the condo. Tracy took all her stuff and left, but she didn’t take anything of mine. We never had joint bank accounts, so I still had my little medical savings account and what was left of this month’s pension checks. I was sad to see her go, but it was probably time for a change for both of us anyway.
I didn’t get invited to Jan’s fourteenth birthday party. Her cell number didn’t work. I thought her mom had confiscated her cell phone. Maybe she couldn’t figure out a way to call me and offer to take Tracy’s place; but more likely, she didn’t want to talk to me ever again. I just didn’t know.
At the end of the school year, I got a call from Jan’s school. She was getting a medal for academic achievement at her promotion assembly. She was being promoted from grade nine to grade ten. As always, her mom had to work, and couldn’t attend. Jan had asked for me to present the medal to her. A whole year had gone by, and Jan would have her fifteenth birthday shortly after her promotion assembly.
Since I first met her, I’d been buying her school supplies and her school shoes, because her mom could barely afford Jan’s tuition and fees. Even though Pretty forbid me to see Jan, she still expected me to buy the school supplies.
You know how schools organize things. The kids getting promoted from grade ten to Senior High School had their assembly first, but the ninth grade students were required to be in the staging area before the start of the tenth grade assembly.
I arrived at the staging area on time. I dressed as nicely as I could. I’d bought new kakis and a new polo shirt for the occasion. Because Manila is so hot all the time, the dress code is much more relaxed than it is in the United States.
Jan was a Cadet Captain in a Philippine Army training program. Apparently she was good at it, because she was a Company Commander, even as a ninth grader.
Her dress uniform made me catch my breath. The jacket was similar to the blouse of the West Point dress uniform, but the Philippine version was Kelly Green. The jacket was tight, and did nothing to conceal the lovely breasts under it. I don’t think Jan had grown any since she showed off her naked body to me. Her tits didn’t look like they were C cup. Still, on her super slim body, B cup is plenty big enough to look dramatically sexy.
The skirt of her dress uniform was so short the expression “invitation to rape” came to my mind. I know that’s not the way things are. I don’t think that way. I always want consent and a girl’s full and enthusiastic cooperation. Still, the skirt was so damn short, I wanted to bend her over something and consummate our long simmering lust that very second.
Jan took my arm and introduced me to all her friends. They all laughed and said something like, “So this is the famous Uncle George. We’ve been hearing about you since Jan was ten. So happy to finally meet you.”
Jan seemed reluctant for us to be alone, but there finally was a chance for us to sit down.
I took her hand and said, “Jan, I’ve been ready since I came back from Boracay a year ago, but I couldn’t get in touch with you. If you still feel the way you did, I’m ready to do my best to love you the way you deserve.”
“Oh Uncle George, if you had really been ready, and if you really loved me enough, you would have waited in the hall and watched my mom leave for work. Then you would have knocked on my door and got on your knees and asked me to forgive you.
“Because you didn’t come for me right after you got back, I decided you are never going to have me. Even if I’m in love with someone else in the future and I get dumped so my heart is broken in a billion pieces, I won’t come to you for comfort.
“I know that seems harsh, but you’ll never learn if you don’t have to live with the natural consequences of your decisions,” Jan said.
I could see from the laugh hiding at the corners of her eyes that she was giving me the kind of parental lecture I might have given her once upon a time.
“I have to go talk to my Company Officers now and make sure they are ready for the presentation of the colors and the Philippine National Anthem. I’ll come get you when it’s time for us to move to our seats in the auditorium,” Jan said
Jan crossed the ready room and I kicked myself in the balls instead of in the ass, as I usually do, for letting this vision of loveliness and the sexiest girl in the universe, slip away from me.
Jan started talking to one of the Platoon leaders. I knew the girl was Jan’s best friend Shane. While Jan was long and lean, Shane was tiny in every way. She was only four feet seven inches tall, but perfectly proportioned, so that her legs didn’t look too short on her lithe body. I was debating whether she was AA or A cup from the sweet swell of her breasts under her dress uniform jacket. I was about to beat myself up over lusting after another young girl, but Jan had made it clear I shouldn’t even hope she would change her mind, so I told myself it was fine to appreciate the beauty of nature, wherever I might find it.
Did I mention that the skirt of the dress uniform was short? Shane was talking to the members of her platoon who were sitting at a table behind a low partition. Shane bent over the wall to make a point and I was praying for her skirt to slip up high enough in back to give me a view of her perfectly formed bottom with her panties stretched tight over her perfect hemispheres. I told myself I was bound for hell because I was wondering what color her panties might be. I was hoping for pink. I cursed silently when I didn’t get the panty flash I was hoping for.
Shane was the daughter of a single mom. She had a twelve year-old sister, I remembered Jan telling me. I was smiling because the tiny beauty kept looking at me, while trying to hide that she was checking me out. Finally she finished with her Platoon, and looked directly at me for a few minutes.
She was so adorable in her beret and dress uniform. She was so sexy with that tiny skirt barely covering her bottom.
Shane nodded, like she had just made a decision, and she walked over to where I was sitting. She shocked the hell out of me by sitting on my lap.
“I think you’re cute Uncle George. I’d like you for my big teddy bear. I think that little cleft in your chin makes you look like a movie star. I’m not as sexy as Jan, but do you think you could like me?” The miniscule girl asked.
“Oh, you’re totally adorable Shane. If you really like me, I’m sure I’ll really like you, once we get to know each other,” I said and gave the tiny beauty a big smile.
“So you don’t plan to go chasing after Jan and trying to get her un-mad at you?” Shane asked.
“No, she’s told me since she was twelve that she was mature enough to make her own decisions. It’s long past time for me to start respecting her, treating her like an adult, and taking what she tells me at face value. Besides, I’m afraid she feels so hurt it would be impossible to ever fix tings between us. From your comments, it sounds like you know the whole long, sad story,” I said.
“Most of it. Because of that I’m a little afraid to say this to you Uncle George; especially since I don’t know all the words to use, the way Jan does.
“I may not look really hot, and I may not need sex three times a day or more like Jan, but you give me fluttery feelings in my tummy I’ve never had before, and I want to get my body as close to yours as is physically possible. If you want me to, I want to take off all my clothes and hug your naked body for the rest of my life.
“Oh good! I’m not a little coward,” Shane said to herself.
“Wow, I’m so honored that you feel that way and especially that you were so brave and told me about how you feel. You are so pretty, I am sure if we like each other as people I could fall for you really hard. I know in my heart, I have this fire from you sitting on my lap, and that fire makes me want to give you anything and everything you want,” I said
“Don’t forget I gave you a hard-on when I sat on your lap. I’m sure that is contributing to that fire, Uncle George,” Shane said. She blushed through her light tan Asian skin, and giggled as she squirmed her bottom against my stiff dick.
“Is my hard cock included in the things you want from me Shane?” I asked her with a big, naughty grin.
“Well my mom is so strict, I have absolutely no experience at all, but from what Jan’s told me, you’ve got all the right boy parts to fix everything that seems to be wrong with all my girl parts. There seems to be a lot wrong, most of the time, so I’m hoping we can get together and you can do some major maintenance on all my girl parts,” Shane said with a matching naughty grin.
“That sounds like an excellent plan Shane. I’ve noticed some of my parts need a tune-up, and it looks like you might be the perfect girl to fix up what’s wrong with me,” I said with a laugh.
“I really like that you don’t mind that I don’t know anything,” Shane said and cuddled her head against my shoulder.
“You know sweetheart, I’m a retired teacher, and I’d love to teach you everything you’d like to learn,” I whispered.
“So after this nonsense is over Uncle George, I’m telling my mom I’m staying at Jan’s tonight, but I’m going home with you so we can find out if American tools can fix what’s wrong with a Filipina girl. Is that fine with you?” Shane told me.
“Yes dear, it’s better than fine,” I told her.
Shane got up and walked over to her platoon. She gave me a little butt wiggle as she walked away.
Jan brought her unit smoothly through their part of the program. Shane seemed to have a little extra strut in her step as she marched. I smiled to myself at just how adorable Shane looked.
Finally it was time to go on stage and present the medal to Jan. She took my arm, and squeezed it a little possessively as we followed the line of students and parents climbing the steps, and finally walking across the stage to the Principal. The administrator handed me the medal and I carefully guided the ribbon over Jan’s beret and down to her neck, making sure my hand didn’t accidentally bump against one of her breasts. Jan shook hands with the Principal, and then took my arm again. We stopped in the designated spot for the official photographs, then we crossed the stage and went down the steps on the other side.
I had to admit that just having Jan take my arm made me want her as much as ever, but I never was one to chase after a girl I couldn’t have. I always figured a girl who was a 9 and wanted me was much superior to a girl who was a 10, but wasn’t crazy about me. Now in this situation, both Jan and Shane were 11s, so I wasn’t going to lose a thing. There might be an upside too, because Shane might be a normally horny teenage girl, not like Jan, who was so sexually needy, I thought trying to keep her satisfied might kill me. I liked the way Shane and I kind of joked and bantered too. It seemed like it might grow into a fun relationship that was warm, emotionally satisfying, and sexy too.
After the program was over and the colors were retired, Jan and Shane each took one of my arms and we walked to my car. Filipino parents stared at me and gave me the evil eye for having a teenage beauty on each arm. I didn’t care.
I took the girls out to dinner. Shane’s mom had wanted her to celebrate her Science Medal with her family, but I could tell Shane never had any trouble getting what she wanted because she was so tiny and cute. She was also sweet, because she told her mom that the place she wanted to go for dinner was closed today, and she hoped her mom had time to go tomorrow, when it was open.
When we got to the condo, I parked the car and opened the car door for Shane who sat in front, and Jan who sat in the second row of seats. We walked to the elevator and got in when the door opened. Jan punched 11, while I pressed 22. As the elevator rushed upward, Jan said, “Thanks for helping me with my school expenses Uncle George. I probably wouldn’t have been able to go to a good school without your help.”
“It’s been my pleasure Jan. You know I think better education is the solution to most of the world’s problems, so I was glad I could help an intelligent young woman work toward some of her goals,” I said.
The elevator decelerated suddenly and the 11 light flashed on as the doors began to open.
Jan shocked me by kissing me on the lips, and then she ran out of the elevator. I thought I saw tears streaming down her face.
The door closed and the elevator launched itself upward again.
Shane looked up at me and whispered, “Aren’t you going after her Uncle George? She was crying you know.”
I pulled Shane’s little body close to me and said, “I’m afraid too much has happened for Jan and me to have a relationship that’s happy and emotionally clean. I think her hurt and disappointment over me being too much of a coward to make love to her when she needed me would always be there, like a dark shadow that could come up and ruin things for us if there was any little stress in our life.
“Sometimes things seem promising for two people, but the timing just isn’t right. If that happens, it is better to just smile about the things that were good, but don’t go chasing after things that might have never been meant to be, I said.”
“Are you sure? I think you should go after her George. If I give my heart to you and then Jan comes and takes you back, I’ll be broken for a long, long time, so I want you to be sure before I give my heart to you,” Shane said.
“Yes, I’m sure. I liked the way we were together in the ready room. I think it was more fun and natural than Jan and I ever interacted.
“You already know I’m an idiot, so you don’t have any hero worship going on or any big expectations I can’t live up to. We were just like equal partners, joking and chatting together. I liked it. It felt good. But then when you looked up at me with your big dark chocolate eyes, I could feel there was the potential for really deep emotions that lead to an epic love story for us. When you walked away, I was much more aware of what a sexy girl you are, and I think if you feel the fire too, we may really enjoy each other,” I said.
The elevator gave us a two G stop, the doors opened, and I took her hand as we walked to my condo. I unlocked the door, reached in to turn on the light, and then led Shane inside. She pulled the door closed behind her, and I smiled as she locked the door.
“Honey, I don’t want to rush you or make it seem like a cheap, cheesy date. I think we are off to a very good start being honest with each other, so please tell me what you want and what you need. I’ll do my very best to give you anything I can,” I told her.
“I like that idea Uncle George. If you don’t ask for what you want, you have no reason to expect somebody to read your mind and give you what you need.
“This is a little thing, but it would mean a lot to me. I don’t remember having a daddy to love me. I’d like it a lot if I could call you daddy. I hope you don’t think it’s twisted, but when I touch myself at night, what I’m thinking is, “Make love to me daddy. Fill up your little girl with your big daddy cock. Fuck me daddy and make me cum so much you drive me crazy.” Is that sick and twisted daddy?” Shane asked.
“No honey, it’s not twisted. The heart wants what the heart wants. I read this story once about a daughter who wanted her daddy to make love to her, and it stuck in my memory and wouldn’t go away. I’d love to be your daddy and your lover at the same time. I can’t think of anything sexier or more exciting that we could do together,” I told her.