Chapter 12: Harper Valley - Distant Princess

It is said one reaps what one sows. Given the amount of “sowing” of late and the detailed publicity ascribed these well-patronized fertility work-outs, it can be of no surprise that their fame has spread worldwide, with pretty much the same momentum as La Macarena to judge by unsolicited feedback.

DISTANT PRINCESS

She should never have sent me that photograph. A man can take just so much!

Surfing her laptop in bed one hormonally-charged night mid Fall, acutely pretty British teenager Sally Young, found exactly what she hadn’t been looking for. Sex stories on tap! Understand if you will, being just sixteen herself and coming across the sexplicitly described antics of girls her own age at the House of Harper ... what else was she to think but, “Oh God, if only!”

Avidly following the selfless community services being rendered by and upon Jenna, Kylie and Natalie, for sweet Sally, orgasm simply begat orgasm. It came eventually that she contacted me by email and freely declared her rampant addiction for each new episode. It was at this point she forwarded her own stunningly beautiful portrait above, together with others I should confess, that so far as any arousal-factor was concerned, it could only be said that they realistically delivered on all fronts (as it were!)

I wrote back to her, sensing even then, that she was something remarkably special. In hindsight, it wasn’t in what she wrote – she sounded in fact just another effervescent yet wholesomely innocent young cutie coming to grips with her own sexuality. Hell, I knew that species like the back of my hand, having here wall to wall clones running me ragged nights!

No, it was that photograph. Without claiming to have even a modicum of psychic ability, for some reason I pick up the ‘essence’ of a person from their photo. The eyes, poise, body-language reveal everything – I can only describe it as being sensorily akin to a computer print-out. The more I studied Sally’s picture, the more I knew about her – and the more I wanted to know.

I don’t view people as being sixteen or sixty ... that is the body date-stamp, little more value than an automobile chassis number. I recognise the inner-being and that my friends is ageless. There are many middle-aged people traipsing around this planet simply filling-in their three-score-years-and-ten (damn, why am I reminded of Warwick again?) Cruelly judgmental I acknowledge, but there is it seems, no purpose - no awareness. Another time, one can cross paths if only for an instant, with a mere child of eight or nine and the Geiger counter runs hot. The confronting auras have linked and recognition been established!

So I felt it to be with Sally.

Just over four years earlier, I had taken Natalie and Kylie on what was an eye-opening world-trip for both of them. Whilst in Britain showing them ‘my turf,’ we had in the course of touring the beautiful south-west counties, en route to such places as Bath and Stonehenge, been to Salisbury – Sally’s hometown. I had for years been promising that Jenna would accompany me the next time I went (she had been but eleven at the time), that being when funds might be available. Well it seemed to me, such a likelihood was never going to eventuate and thus I resolved to take her anyway. We would simply eat every second day! I had already realised we wouldn’t be needing separate rooms and that being father and daughter, this would raise no eyebrows among any Hotel staff, well unless they had a few spy-cams installed.

To say Jenna was excited would be to understate the obvious.

“Oh that’s just not fair dad,” muttered Kylie and Natalie when told of the trip. “Jenna will have you all to herself for nearly three weeks.”

In fact, the incomparably beautiful nights that we shared during that initial week away in the US would have formed the basis itself of a complete stand-alone documented work. That very first night in San Franciso, checked-in at the old Cecil Hotel on Sutter, was something I will never experience again. Far from the hot’n sexy little turns running their course at home, I really had the opportunity to make love to Jenna as a young woman alone that night for the first time. For her part, she gave to me a requited love that not one in a million will ever know. Make that one in a billion!

This is not the purpose of this recollection however and it must therefore take regrettably, a back seat to the tale at hand.

On the flight from New York to Paris, on impulse I showed Jenna a copy of Sally’s picture I had printed off. I say “on impulse,” the fact is, I had always planned to show her I suppose.

“She’s very pretty dad,” she replied after studying the pic closely. “Who is she? She soo reminds me of Brianna.”

I nodded, then kinda circumnavigated the truth – just a little.

“Actually Jen, she got to read a couple of my mystery stories I published on the Net a while back. (Luckily Jenna knew about them). I think she mentioned that her parents had either bought a book or downloaded a title ... I honestly can’t remember now - but anyway, she just really liked what she’d read and wrote to me about it.”

“She looks pretty young dad, “ Jenna had then asked. “How old is she?’

“Sally’s your age sweetheart,” I replied, “Just sixteen.” I couldn’t help but notice how prolonged a study she was making of the pic.

“Where does she live?”

“Salisbury in England,” I told her, “Pretty close to Stonehenge.”

“Would you like to meet her,” Jenna asked in all innocence.

“Well, she doesn’t even know we’re going to England Jenna.” I replied. “Why? Do you think I should?”

She looked up at me then, just as cheeky an expression as she could muster on that pretty little face.

“C’mon daddy, I know the kind of girls you really like ... and she has cute little boobies too.” She added, giggling hard.

“Well that she does, cheeky-face,” I responded, reminded suddenly of a couple of her other pics that fully highlighted that particular aspect of her existence.

‘Well maybe we might just call when we’re down her way and see if she want’s to meet up for an hour or so.” I volunteered.

“Sure dad,” she laughed, taking my hand, Why don’t we do that?”

Paris was beautiful – it always is. Whether you’re strolling along the Left Bank, trying to manoeuvre your shopping-trolley of a Citroen around the Arc de Triumph, gazing down from the deuxieme etage of the Eiffel Tower or just taking it easy in Le Louvre, life is but a kaleidoscope of new experiences in the Parisian capital. All I was thinking of though was Salisbury and the sights it had to offer.

The first week in Britain was spent in London showing Jenna so much of what she had heard me talk about during her childhood. My hometown in the flesh supplemented all those bedtime stories. She finally got to see what she had only been able to imagine. Don’t think she was too impressed with the meteorological attributes of the UK though.

“Dad,” she said that first day, “It’s not this cold at home mid-winter!” I pointed out that she should hang around for January.

“Thank you no,” she replied with little hesitation. “Nice for other things though,” she observed, looking up at me with that “Guess what I feel like?” look. We were late down for breakfast as I recall.

Having struck an uncommonly good deal with a local car rental company, obviously sympathetic to the Aussie cause, early that second week we loaded up our Vauxhall Zafira and struck out for Slough and the West. With fuel in England more than double the cost now of the average Sydney pump prices, it’s best to have a strategic geographic plan in place before you hit the road in the U.K. I had however, the added advantage of a lifetime’s familiarity with the British road-system. Hell, I had sat beside my father as he navigated his way from Land’s End to John O’Groats long before they built the first Motorway!

Following in her sisters’ footsteps, Jenna marvelled at the Roman influence in Bath, the antiquity of Stonehenge and Avebury, the splendour of Longleat. If only she had known what was to come!

I remember thinking as we pulled off the A36 right at the A345 roundabout and throwing a right into Castle Street, “What the hell am I doing here? She’s just sixteen!”

The Milford Hall Hotel was as I recalled it, no Dorchester come lately, but very comfortable and a major step-up from one of those sixty-nine-pound-a-night Granada motorway havens that would probably have seen Jenna the wished-for target of most every paedophile headed north that night.

I waited till she was in the shower and way out of hearing range, then called Sally’s cellphone number that I had gotten her to give me many weeks earlier.

“Hello?” came this plaintive but unmistakably west-county accented little voice.

“Sally, I presume?”

“Yes, who is it please?” she asked.

“Well sweetie,” I said, “You did once tell me that given the opportunity, you’d run a couple of miles to see my daughter having sex ... this is your big chance kiddo!”

Never was silence more deafening!

“Oh my God ... Oh my God!!,” she spluttered. “Its you Noel. Where are you? Don’t tell me you’re in England ... are the girls with you??”

I let her calm down momentarily. “Er, just which of those questions do you want answered first sweetheart?” I replied.

“Oh, don’t tease me,” she said. “Are you really here?”

“Well depending on your definition of “here” Sally, yeah, I guess I am. As “here” as you can get I suppose. Just how far is the Milford Hall from you? Think you can run that distance?”

She was making all sorts of disbelieving noises into the receiver. I figured I’d better take up the conversation.

“To answer your other question Sally ... Jenna is with me, the other two are back in Sydney ... misbehaving most likely.

“Can I talk to her Noel?,” she pleaded, “Does she know about me?’

“No, you can’t talk to her right now sweetie,” I replied. “She’s under the shower – I wanted to call you first. And yes, I showed her your pic and told her you’d contacted me after reading a couple of my stories on the Net. She doesn’t know anything about Harper Valley or even that you know what goes on. OK?”

“Its cool, I won’t mention it,” she promised. “What did she say about my pic?” How typically female I thought to myself!

“She said she thought you were very pretty actually.” I told her truthfully. I thought it prudent not to mention her other more personal observations.

“So,” I continued. “Any chance of us seeing you?”

“Oh my God, of course,” she gushed. “Just got to work out what I’m going to tell my parents and how I can arrange it.”

“Definitely not too much,” I told her candidly. “We’re only going to be here for just two more nights, that’s the other problem.” I added quickly.

“Well at least it’s the weekend from tonight,” she said, “So I haven’t got school to worry about.” Like I hadn’t already planned for that little eventuality!

Just then Jenna walked out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam and not much else.

“You want to say hello to Sally?” I asked her. Her eyes grew wide like saucers and quite honestly, you never saw anyone move so fast. Grabbing the phone off me, she sat down on my lap, knowing full-well the effect that would be having. As she chattered animatedly to Sally, I allowed myself the luxury of a grope either side. Jenna squeaked in surprise and with a deliberately provocative “dad!!” pushed my hands away.

Sally must have asked her what was going on because I heard Jenna say “Just dad ... being naughty!” What images must have been running through Sally’s mind I was thinking.

Talk about feeling superfluous! By the time Jenna had hung up, everything was organised apparently.

“I love her accent dad,” Jenna said, hopping off me, the bath-towel short enough to disclose just the cruellest hint of her curvy little bottom as she would have been only too well aware.

From what I could deduce, Sally was planning on telling her parents she was going to see Shyamalan’s The Village with a couple of schoolfriends – this being a not unusual event evidently and fully unlikely to arouse suspicion. A friend of hers could drop her over at the Milford Hall just after tea the following day.

Took a drive out to Bristol the next morning, but speaking for myself, it wasn’t the local architecture I was thinking about. I have a sneaking suspicion Jenna’s mind was on other things too. On our return, we had a cursory look around Salisbury Cathedral itself before we checking back in to the Milford for an early tea.

Jenna took so long doing herself up that night, anyone would think it was her first date. Fashionable little skirt and top and even some tasteful hot make-up. Cool as it was outside, the environment control ensured our rooms were maintained an optimum temperature.

“Jesus Christ girl,” I said, looking her over, don’t tell me Brad and Jerry are coming too? She was at her Harper’s best! She stuck her tongue out at me.

Around 7 p.m. we got a call from reception saying our “guest” had arrived.

“How’d I look?’ I asked her.

“Like my lovely sexy dad,” she said, giving me a beautiful kiss on the lips. Thinking back now, how lucky Sally was I even got as far as the foyer that night!

The picture hadn’t done the girl the justice it might have. Sally was just so absolutely stunning, I figured she must have taken every bit as much time as Jenna had. Wearing an all-black dress that clung to her in all the right places, she was a vision of youth, beauty and utter desirability. She too had applied just a hint of make-up – enough to highlight her near-perfect face-structure, yet without betraying her tender years. A delicate application of what appeared to be peach-colored mascara set off the natural sparkle to her pretty eyes and, like Jenna’s, the lip-gloss simply begged to be kissed-off at the first available opportunity. Her long blonde hair was swept back off her shoulders with just a few wayward locks teasing her cheeks and forehead. We’re talking here, God at his creative best!

The girls hit it off instantly and hand in hand accompanied me first to the bar. No way was anyone going to be asking to see id for those two. Besides, I was buying.

Fascinated by each other’s accent there was more giggling than anything else. Sally wanted to know all about Australia, school ... and Australian boys. Jenna wanted to know about life in England, school and English boys. I don’t know why I even bothered going!

Eventually though I got a word in edgeways and suggested maybe we went back to our room for a while. No one jacked up about that. First thing I did once the girls had made themselves comfy in the two easy-chairs by the window, was to ring down for a few sandwiches and a bottle of champagne. Wasn’t so sure about Sally, but after a couple of glasses of the sparkly-stuff, Jenna’s few remaining inhibitions invariably take a hike.

I just couldn’t take my eyes of Sally. Something inherently pleasurable in just watching young girls acting out their youths and effusive natural selves. Simply the way they talk excitedly, the delicate hand movements, self-conscious wriggles in the chair as they smooth their skirts or dresses down while talking. Little giggles and the occasional brief hand contact when emphasising a point. Regrettably, it’s all lost so soon in the maturing process.

Room service was remarkably efficient and the ordered refreshments were at the door in less than twenty minutes. Drawing a chair up myself and having poured them a glass each of the outrageously marked-up wine, I got finally to chat with Sally and learn a bit about her brief sixteen years on the planet. I think she’d already heard in complete detail, Jenna’s fifteen (being only a fortnight into her sixteenth) She had evidently, an older sister Jacqui to whom she looked up to and maintained a very close relationship with. Reflecting on the bond between my three, I had every reason to wonder just how close that might be? I recall thinking that if she was that enamoured with the Harper Valley recollections then maybe it was a sisterly love that Brad and Jerry for starters, would give their right-hand to see. Better make that their left hand – I think they would be having a desperate need later for the use of their right!

I recall at one stage just putting an arm around Jenna’s waist and seeing Sally’s pupils dilate – a combination I suspect of the wine, her pre-knowledge and her optimism.

Both girls, whether they knew it or not, had become just marginally flirty. Nothing overt, just louder giggles, hot little expressions and the occasional shoulder wriggle. It’s all in Nature’s wonderful blueprint for life.

At the point Jenna had to excuse herself for a toilet break, Sally whispered to me. “She is sooo intelligent and pretty, no wonder you love her so much.” I just leaned forward and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek. The champagne had done its work however – she turned her head fractionally and I had the option then of withdrawing or kissing her again on the lips. Wasn’t exactly much of a choice!

“Dad!” giggled Jenna, returning from the bathroom. “I leave you for a second and you’re being naughty.” Sally was visibly blushing.

“Yeah, I know sweetheart,” I smiled at her, “Doctors tell me there’s nothing they can do for me – completely untreatable, the last one said.”

“Why?” I added quickly, “You just a wee bit jealous sweetheart?” I grabbed her as she walked past and pulled her on to my lap.”

A little shocked I’d say, she just sat their looking at me with an arousingly half-open mouth. I had to kiss it. Didn’t that warm little bottom in my lap feel nice though!

“Dad!!!!” she gasped again...”We have company.” I let her get off and settle back in her own chair. Sally’s face was priceless. I know a hot and aroused young girl when I see one ... and I was seeing at least two.

“Anyone like to watch a movie?” I asked. Their response was a resounding vote in favor of the idea. The recently-released Day After Tomorrow was the preferred choice although we had all seen it earlier in the year. I figured a second bottle of champers wouldn’t go astray over the ensuing couple of hours either and rang down to have a bottle brought up.

Now the only place to properly watch a movie in a hotel suite is the bed and as far as that went, this one was the ants pants. King-size, if not custom-built for Hefner’s Playboy mansion, it was just a case of the girls slipping their shoes off and wriggling their way up to the headboard. Jenna settled herself between me and Sally, not that I was there for long as the buzzer sounded.