Thanks to Lubrican and Three Sheets for editing and guiding me.
Special thanks to Old Fart for the kick in the pants that got me writing again.
"Hold still, Maggie" said my best friend Sara, laughing as she captured a stray mahogany lock and pinned it with the rest of my hair piled on top of my head. "Or we won't ever get to the party."
The Halloween costume gala Mama and Daddy have held for the past ten years in the ballroom of the Grand Moon Hotel was underway. You have to be sixteen to attend and this was the first year Sara and I were joining in the fun. We had taken some of the younger neighborhood kids trick-or-treating earlier and ended up getting to the hotel later than expected.
Dreaming about the party and the forbidden pleasures I'd planned for this evening had caused me to goof-up in all my classes at school. Now we were running half an hour late and I was fidgeting while Sara worked with my hair in the powder room.
"There!" She smiled at me in the mirror. "You're so lucky. My mom would have a fit if I wanted to wear that outfit."
The red taffeta dress had me looking like one of the girls who work at Miss Kitty's on Gunsmoke. The ruffles on top barely concealed anything and the ruffles on bottom fell just below my knees, clad in fish-net stockings. As I slipped on the matching red ankle boots I said, "I would be more comfortable being your Dr. Watson. Least I wouldn't have to wear these heels. I'm tall enough as it is."
She was Sherlock Holmes and I'd planned on being Dr. Watson until the package containing the dress arrived at the house the previous morning. There had also been a handwritten note from my godfather, Ben Rogers, daring me to wear the outfit. While I wasn't certain about exposing myself in this manner, I could not resist the issued challenge.
As for Mama, she simply told me I was now woman enough to make my own decision on what I chose to wear. I hoped she would be as understanding about the choice I'd made about my virginity -- among other things.
"I'm having more fun with you dressed like this," Sara replied, giggling. "So will everyone else. And stop worrying about how tall you are. Nobody cares, but you."
I'm five foot ten inches in flats and I inherited a big bone structure from Daddy's side of the family. I was a good basketball player, but felt awkward and unattractive most of the time.
When we joined the party I forgot all about being the tallest Dance Hall girl in town and enjoyed the good natured teasing about my costume. And, to my surprise, the downright lecherous scrutiny from some of the male guests did not make me in the least bit uncomfortable. If anything, it emboldened me and I found myself flirting with Elvis and Houdini.
Elvis was John Phillips, the sixteen year-old nephew of my father's law partner Ben Rogers, who is also my godfather. The other man was the town's self-proclaimed bon vivante, Anderson Tate. I put them both off for dances until after I'd had my first dance with Daddy, whom I had just spotted across the room. Dressed like the tramp from Red Skeleton, he was talking with Alice in Wonderland. When I approached them, I recognized his younger sister Rachel.
"Now ain't you a sight," Rachel said, giggling and hugging me. "You're a knock-out kiddo."
"Lord," Daddy mumbled. He was looking kind of stunned. "You're all grown-up."
Rachel guffawed and patted his shoulder. "Now, now. It's only a costume. She'll be back to normal tomorrow."
"I'm not so sure about that," he replied, shaking his head, as his gray eyes looked me up and down.
Kissing his cheek, I took his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. When we'd taken several steps he chuckled and said, "So much for knowing my own kid."
"Oh, Daddy. Outside of Mama and Ben you know me better than anyone."
"Not like I thought I did. I bet Ben you wouldn't wear this outfit in a million years."
"You did?" I giggled.
He nodded and grinned. "I owe that bum seventy-five bucks."
"Well, it was a sure thing."
"What was a sure thing?" Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz asked, walking up behind him.
"Hey, Mama," I said, hugging her. "He and Ben are betting, again."
"How much have you lost this time?" she asked, punching him gently on the arm.
He told her and she laughed. "You should know by now, she'll do anything Ben dares her to do."
"Yeah. Well." He shrugged.
"Too bad he's missing all the fun, he's managed to stir up," she said, pulling Daddy away to dance.
Ben had called last night to say he wouldn't be home until next week. The family business he'd gone to take care of in Atlanta wasn't getting resolved as quickly as planned and he couldn't leave until things were settled.
I turned to walk off the floor and bumped into John who was walking up behind me. Cheeks flushed, he apologized and said, "I thought maybe it could be my turn, now."
I consented and his green eyes sparkled with pleasure as he took me in his arms and hesitantly placed his right hand in the small of my back. As we danced, his gaze kept straying to my cleavage and his cheeks grew pinker by the moment. Thinking I ought to distract him, I asked him about how his classes were going. We were in the middle of discussing his faltering grades in math when I spotted Zorro leaning casually against the frame of the door leading out into the courtyard.
The masked hero is a prominent figure in my fantasies and I immediately felt my nipples harden and my clit began throbbing as juices flooded my pussy.
Zorro deliberately licked his lips and smiled at me.
My pussy spasmed and I caught my breath.
"You okay?" John asked.
My face burning, I nodded. "My ankle twinged. I'm not used to these boots."
"I don't know how you're even walking in them," he said.
I giggled and said, "Me, either."
Ignoring Zorro by maintaining eye-contact with John, I managed to get through the rest of the dance without having any further mishaps. However, the fact of simply being watched by the man I'd fantasized about so long, maintained the steady flow of juices between my thighs; thus, when the dance ended I promised John another later on and fled to the bathroom. Fortunately, the other stalls were empty when I wiped my saturated pussy with the wet paper towel. The sensations were so incredible; I was unable to keep from crying out. The next instant, my fingers were stroking my engorged clit, and I became so caught up in my pleasure, I didn't know anyone was in the room with me until I heard the gentle but stern command, "Senorita, stop!"
Startled, I bumped my head against the stall door and lost interest in my pussy as stars of a different sort temporarily filled my eyes.
"Are you all right, Little One?"
His Spanish accent was flawless.
"No. Yes." I sank down on the toilet seat and rubbed the top of my head.
"My deepest apologies for frightening you, Chica." He sounded amused. "I thought you would hear my entrance. The door of this sanctuary squeaks so."
"What do you want, Senor?" I asked.
I could hardly believe the sensuality he managed to project into one simple word.
"Please, Senor," I begged, gasping as my pussy twitched.
"Please what, Little One?"
"Bring you some lemonade?"
"No, thank you."
"A cookie, perhaps?"
I shook my head. And bit my lip to keep from moaning.
"No, Senor. No, cookie."
I sighed. "No."
"Frustrating is it not, Little One?"
"So tell me what you want."
"I want you to kiss me. Okay?"
"Kiss you where?"
"Where? Here. There. What difference does it make?"
"Unlatch the door, Senorita."
I slid the lock back and he stepped inside the stall. Cupping my cheek in his gloved right hand, looked directly into my eyes for several seconds. He then kissed my forehead and reminded me I had a safe word.
"I don't want to use it, Senor" I said.
He smiled and said, "That's my chica," and ordered me to give him my panties.
I slid the white laced silk underwear the rest of the way off and placed them in his outstretched gloved-hand. He brushed the wet cloth against his cheek and sniffed. "Your perfume is magnificent, Little One," he commented as he stuffed them in a concealed pocket of his cape. "Now tell me what you want."
I frowned. "I told you already."
"You weren't completely honest with me were you, Chica."
"No, Senor," I looked down at my lap.
Using his fingers to lift my chin, he brought his face close to mine and whispered, "What do you want?"
"I want you."
"To stand on my head?"
I shook my head.
"To rob a bank?"
"What then?" He kissed my left hand. "What do you want?"
I bit my lip.
"If you don't tell me in the next five seconds, I'm leaving and will call everything off until you're twenty-one."
He held up his hand and was down to three fingers when I blurted, "I want you to make love to me, Senor."
"Gracious, Little One," he responded, kissing my cheek. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Yes." I shook my head. "No."
Chuckling, he pulled me to my feet and held my trembling body against him for several minutes before ushering me to the sink to wash my hands and face. When I was dried off, he said, "Lift your skirt, Senorita, and spread your thighs."
When I obeyed he stepped up behind me and studied the reflection of my pussy, which I'd shaved as he'd instructed -- bare other than a heart shape above my clit. The dark curly hair was wet and clinging to my skin. Smiling, he pressed his left hand over my mouth and licked the back of my neck, sending sparks shooting through me. As my body jerked, and I moaned into the soft leather of his glove, he said, "The hacienda in an hour, Senorita. Don't be late. Understood?"
"Yes, Senor," I replied softly.
When I returned to the ballroom, I munched on a pumpkin shaped cookie and drank a cup of lemonade before accepting a dance from Jerry Morris a guy in my English class. He was dressed as a mummy and the only thing not covered in bandages was his face. His mother runs a dance studio and he's one of the best dancers in school, but he was a bit clumsy in the outfit he was wearing. Combined with my own inept moves due to Zorro's teasing from afar and the material of the skirt brushing against my bare bottom, we were like two toddlers learning to walk.
We were having such a good time he kept his claim on me for three more dances. And I wouldn't have minded dancing the rest of the hour with him, but John was waiting for my promised dance with him.
"Would you like to go out tomorrow night?" Jerry asked before we parted. His blue eyes gazed steadily into mine. He knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to go for it.
I nodded. "I'll have to get permission, though."
"I'll call with you more details in the morning," he promised and escorted me over to John.
The second dance with John wasn't as enjoyable as the first. He kept looking at my cleavage and wasn't paying attention to much else. When it was over, he asked me out for the next night. He wasn't happy when I told him I already had a date, but cheered up when I said I'd go out the next Saturday, provided I got permission. He then wanted as many dances in a row as I'd given Jerry, but Zorro motioned with his head for me, and I told him I needed to give another dance I'd promised. His response was interrupted by Cinderella who asked him if she could have this dance. He accepted Debra Meyers gracefully and I told him I'd talk with him later.
When I crossed the floor to Zorro, he gave me an exaggerated bow, kissed my hand, and said softly, "May I have the pleasure of dancing with you, Chica?"
I accepted and then, with every nerve in my body trembling, I walked into his arms.
"My sweet, sexy, Chica," he murmured, his breath brushing my ear. "You have ignited many male passions, this evening."
"I'm only interested in yours, Senor," I mumbled.
Chuckling, he began speaking in Spanish and though I couldn't understand a word, his tone was so sensuous, my entire body felt as though it was melting. When I gasped and tightened my grip on his hand, he said, "One half hour, Senorita," and escorted me off the floor to the refreshment table where a group of girls, including Sara, were gathered.
"You lucky dog," Sara commented, giggling, when Zorro kissed my hand and walked away. "Who is he?"
Shrugging, I said, "I'm not sure. He's using a Spanish accent."
Her reply was interrupted by the announcement of the scavenger hunt beginning in fifteen minutes.
"Hope you don't mind," Sara said, "but I promised Ricky I'd be his partner."
Grinning, I told her to have fun and then made my way over to Daddy who was holding the lists for the game. "You have a buddy, Sunshine?" he asked.
I shook my head. "I feel kind of tired. Think I'm gonna' head out."
He studied me for a moment and said, "Has anyone bothered you?"
"Of course not, Daddy." I kissed his cheek. "Everyone here is a perfect gentleman. I just feel like going home and propping my feet up. There's a twenty-four hour Lucy marathon on."
Hugging me, he said, "I'd go with you, if your mother wouldn't kill me."
I giggled and turned to leave.
"Be sure the doors are locked and the alarm is set," he called after me.
I was puppy sitting for Ben and heard the same thing from him every night when he called Ben's house to check on me. Ben has the same alarm system as we do, but Daddy still worries.
I grinned and waved.
The split level brick and cedar house, which Ben designed himself, sits on five acres outside of town. The drive took all of ten minutes and when I stepped inside the front door I had ten minutes to spare. I went out to the kitchen where the golden retriever pup was secured inside a fence on the other side of the back door. He was sleeping with a stuffed teddy bear and when I scratched his ear he whimpered, but didn't open his eyes.
"G'nite, Luke," I whispered. "Sweet dreams."
A few minutes later, having checked everything as promised, I went up stairs and saw him propped against the door of his room. The man who'd taught me to fly fish, to carve wood and build whatever I wanted, to work on cars, and to ride a motorcycle, was now going to teach me to embrace being the woman I'd become.
Like Daddy, Ben married his high school sweetheart, but she died during a bad storm five years ago when their car skidded off Clancy Creek Bridge and into the rising waters. Thrown from the car, Ben lost consciousness and floated down river where he was rescued by a farmer who was checking on a cow due to have a calf. Penny's neck was broken and she never regained consciousness. A childless widower with rugged good-looks, curly black hair, and blue-green eyes, he was the prize for all the eligible ladies around, but they were left disappointed year after year when Ben chose to remain single.
Three months ago, on the eve of my grandmother's funeral, I'd confessed how I felt for him when he arrived at the house to pay his respects to Dad. Out of town, on vacation, he hadn't arrived back in time to be at the funeral home. I was outside standing under my favorite oak tree when he joined me.
"You doing okay, Sweetness?" he asked, resting his hands on my shoulders and kissing the top of my head. When I didn't respond he said, "It's okay, Maggie. You can lean on me."
Tears streaming down my cheeks, I turned and fell into his arms. "It just hurts so much," I moaned into his chest.
"I know, Sweetness," he murmured, squeezing me and stroking my hair. "I know."
The next instant I was spilling out how much I loved him, and wanted him and needed him and promising I would do anything for him. "Please don't ever leave me," I begged him, pressing my lips against his.
Moaning he tightened his grip on me and briefly responded to my kiss. He then gently pushed me away.
Cheeks burning, I stammered an apology and started to run away, but he caught me and wrapped me in his arms again, saying, "Maggie, I need you to listen to me. Are you listening?"
I nodded and mumbled, "Yes, Sir."
He kissed the top of my head. "Sweetness, your feelings for me are not wrong and you have nothing to be ashamed of. Okay?"
"And I stopped the kiss because now isn't the right time. But I promise, we will eventually talk things over."
He'd kept his promise a month later and began pulling me out of the shell I'd placed around myself because of being uncomfortable with my developing sexuality. As I shared with him, he shared with me and as the bond between us took a new direction, I reached the point of wanting to meet his needs as well as my own. Tonight was the first time we would be together as lovers.
Other than the trousers and shirt, he was no longer wearing the costume. As I neared him I could see the delight and desire the mask had shadowed. Stepping back for me to enter the room, he told me to sit in one of the chairs placed in front of the windows. The curtains were drawn, one lamp was on, and the TV was on I Love Lucy. I could see the screen from where I was sitting and I giggled as Lucy began stomping grapes.
A few moments later I was concentrating on Ben who pulled the other chair across from me and lifted my feet into his lap. "I knew you would be beautiful in this dress," he said softly, as he untied the boot on my left foot. "You need to start wearing dresses more often."
"I'll only wear them when you make me," I replied.
"Is that so?" He grinned and dropped the boot on the floor.
"Plan to go shopping with me tomorrow," he said.
"You're not supposed to be home," I reminded him.
He laughed softly. "Things got resolved unexpectedly and I drove home during the night."
I mentioned my date with Jerry and John and asked if it was okay if I went out with them.
"As long as your parents approve, you may go out with anyone you choose," he said, reaching for the other boot. "I want you to explore and experience as much as you desire -- you have lots of growing to do and I won't keep you from that." He kissed my right ankle and placed my feet back on the floor. "I've drawn you a bath. Go soak for ten minutes. Don't do anything but soak. When you're done put on the robe hanging on the back of the door and call me."
The white silky robe was lined with soft cotton and when I pulled the tie, the top remained slightly opened, revealing more skin than I usually exposed. Turning to view myself in the full length mirror on the wall behind the door, I saw the tail of the wrap brushed the back of my calves.
When I called Ben to join me, he smiled his approval and told me to go wait for him. Another episode of Lucy was on, and I settled in the chair and watched Lucy milking a cow. Not more than ten minutes went by before Ben re-joined me. He was wearing the gray plaid robe I'd made for him in sewing class two years earlier. In his hand was a hair-brush.
I moved to the ottoman as he requested and he took the chair behind me. He then released my hair from the combs and pins and began brushing out the shoulder length strands. He worked slowly and deliberately, as if making love to my hair.
Tingles radiating from the top of my head to my toes, I gasped and squirmed on the leather seat.
"Did you enjoy our game this evening?" he asked, his breath tickled my neck.
I giggled and said, "Yes."
"How did you feel when you saw me?"
"I was turned-on."
"And not before?"
"Do you think you were reacting to your fantasy or to me?"
I thought for a moment and said, "The fantasy was exciting, but I don't think I would have reacted the same if I hadn't known it was you. I've never felt anything like I felt tonight. It was kind of scary."
"You're afraid of losing control."
"But you understand not being in control rouses your passions."
"You know that. We talked about it when I was afraid I was crazy for getting off on those fantasies I told you about."
"Yes," he responded. "I just want to make sure you're truly comprehending yourself."
Giving my hair a couple of more strokes, he kissed the back of my head and moved over to the antique iron bed covered in a crazy quilt from his grandmother. Pulling the covers back, he removed his robe, revealing his black silk boxers, and then slid between the white cotton sheets.
I'd seen him in swimming trunks and wasn't uncomfortable with having him in only his shorts. I had, however, become a bit nervous about my own nudity beneath the robe.
As though reading my mind he said, "Leave your robe on and come lie with me."
Climbing under the covers with him, I rested my head on his chest and he wrapped his arm around me.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked.
I nodded and he turned up the volume on the TV. As we watched the familiar antics of Lucy, an intense warmth surrounded my body. I felt safe and secure. Desire was also building inside me. It was something different than what I'd felt earlier, though I wasn't sure how to explain how it differed.