I Was the Child Lost

by Charlie for now

Copyright© 2022 by Charlie for now

Romantic Sex Story: If you've read 'The Lost Child' this will make more sense, since it's Robin's story, from her point of view of being found by Charlie on the lake's rock bank two days after the boat crash. It will make sense if read first, however. Enjoy, please.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Fiction   Fairy Tale   Rags To Riches   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   .

I was getting tired of him leering at me, the arguing with Susan, and the constant demands for kisses and hugs, and touching me. I was going to be turning fifteen in only a few months, and using that for my reasoning, it made sense to me, at the time. I was old enough to know what he was really working toward. Yuckkkk.

I enjoyed being with Susan, though, when he was at work, or out of town, and we were together. She was nice to me. We’d dress up, letting me feel a little more like an adult, her helping me with a little makeup, showing me how to put stockings on and walk in high heels, and with one of my skirts and blouses, she said I looked nice. It was fun. I liked it. I did feel grown up.

They had taken me in as foster parents just before I turned thirteen. Although I had a feeling about Gary, they were nice and I thought things could definitely be worse, and had been, quite a lot, actually. Even the administrator and the head of security at the orphanage were worse. I’d been pretty careful, and stayed away from them, but a couple of the girls, a lot older than me, had actually been with them, in exchange for special favors and such. I had the same bad feeling about Gary as I did with them. I seemed to be able to tell if people were good or bad when I first met them or heard them speak. I had no idea how or why, but in my short life, since I’d been thinking about it, I was right, every time. If I thought someone might be a jerk, they always turned out to be one.

Anyway, lately, Gary had been looking at me with more of a hungry look. I like to read romance novels, so I’ve read the words, understood the ideas, the way people look at each other, touch, titillate, that’s a funny word, and arouse each other. I think Gary was going there. I didn’t want that. He wasn’t anyone or anything I’d want to get involved with, in the first place. I was just putting up with it, for now, hoping Susan would make him stop, and anytime I thought it was happening, I just withdrew into my room, or found Susan and used her to protect me.

School had just started, a few days before Labor Day, but with the three-day weekend, Gary packed up his boat and took us down to Long Branch Lake for the long weekend. He thought that since it was so hot and muggy, a couple of days of skiing and playing in the water would be fun. I agreed, of course, since Susan would be close the whole time. It was only about forty miles away, but we wound up spending two nights down there, eating at restaurants and calling it a vacation.

Late on Monday afternoon, before we were going to go home, we went out one more time. I was standing on the back of the boat, just getting my life jacket on and getting ready to ski. Gary was looking at me like I was lunch or something and Susan told him to stop.

“Nice legs, sweetheart.”

“She’s just a kid, Gary. Knock it off.”

“That’s not a kid, Susan. That’s a young woman in a young woman’s body.”

“You’re terrible. Stop it.”

“It’s hard, trust me. Really hard.” He chuckled at his own little joke. Gross.

“Asshole!” she yelled.

Susan lunged at him and slapped him, losing her balance and falling into him. He fell backwards by his seat and the boat jumped out from under me. I hit the water, going in backwards and headfirst, and when I came up, I turned and watched as the boat kept going, full blast, right into the rocks and exploded. I was in shock. I had no idea what to do. It was sunset, going to start getting dark, and I was on the other side of the lake, at least a mile from the blazing fire and only a little way from the shore on the other side of the lake. The side with no activity, no boats, no anything. I turned, crying, hoping Susan lived through all that, and swam to the edge of the lake.

We were miles up into the lake, a really long one, with two big channels of it splitting and going way up north. We were on the part that didn’t have any people around. The one away from town. ‘No one was going to ever find me,’ was all I could think at the time.

The first night, I was sitting on my life jacket, crying, wondering what the heck was going to happen to me. I heard something growling in the trees, and there was just enough moonlight to make the thing’s eyes turn bright green, like little reflectors by the road. I picked up a handful of gravel by my feet and threw it as hard as I could at whatever it was. I still don’t know for sure what it was.

All day, the next day, I sat there, crying. I needed to go to the bathroom and that just made me cry worse. Oh, Jesus, what was I going to do. I knew it was miles and miles to anywhere. I waited.

It was starting to get dark again, and I couldn’t put it off any longer. I went over toward the trees, got some leaves, pulled my suit down, and squatted, pooping on the ground, then peeing. Gross. It splashed on my ankles. I had some leaves in my hand and used those as good as I could to clean up a bit. They were a bit rough. I stood and pulled my suit up, then went carefully to the lake. Just as I got there, something was in the water. Just a head was out of the water as it wiggled by. I ran up to my life preserver and sat back down, watching out on the water for anything.

I guess I fell asleep with my head in my hands. Yelling wasn’t helping, there was no one to hear me, and my throat was starting to get mad at me for doing so much of it. I was out of tears, my ears were burning, and I was so scared. So afraid.

Everything was different. For the better, I hoped. I had hope. A new feeling for me after the last day or so. A man in a fishing boat was approaching me slowly, throwing his line out and bringing it back, over and over. He looked up at me. I looked down, and my life changed. He ran his boat up on the ground, came up to me and when I saw him, I knew I was OK. I held my arms out to him and he picked me up, holding me to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and as safe as I felt, I didn’t let go.

He really was a nice guy. Young, handsome, and between my tears, he made me feel better. All the fear, after he spoke, disappeared.

“Honey, what’s your name?”

“Robin.” I noticed my voice was a bit rough and my throat was scratchy. He gave me a bottle of water. It was about then that I realized how thirsty and hungry I was. I almost drank all of it at once.

He put his hand up to keep me from downing the whole thing and asked me if I was hungry. I could have eaten a life jacket right then.

“Yes.”

He gave me a sandwich and asked me what I was doing out there.

I asked him if they were gone. He looked at me, kind of asking what I meant. I told him I was lost, once again. I almost finished the little sandwich, setting a bit of it down, then wrapped my arms around his neck and just started crying again. After a few minutes, and catching my breath, I told him the whole story. Not anything specific about what caused it, but I told him Gary said something mean, Susan slapped him and fell, he fell, the boat took off, leaving me falling back into the water and all. I started crying again as I told him I saw the fire and the explosion and about swimming over to where we were.

“Robin,” he said, “I need to take you to the police and get you home.”

He didn’t understand yet. I pulled him tighter to me, took the other little sandwich he was handing me and told him, “No.” After another bite or two, between sobs, tears, and crying, “No,” I said then asked him, “What’s your name?”

“Charles,” he said. “Charles Allen Jackson.” Then he said, “You can call me Charlie. Just Charlie, for now.” He looked at me with a sincere smile. I knew already, but that clinched it. He was a good person. The smile broadened as he looked at me. “OK?”

I nodded and explained my whole situation to him.

“Charlie, I don’t want to go back.” I told him about them getting me as a foster a couple years ago. I mentioned how Susan had even mentioned the possibility of them adopting me. Then I told him how the system works for kids my age. For the most part they wind up being maids, babysitters, and even worse, for foster home parents just looking for help and trading a bit of guidance for free labor and a bunch of state money. “Will you please stay with me if you take me in? They’ll call children’s services and...” Just the thought of that had me breaking down again. Another run through the system. I just don’t think I could handle that anymore. “Why am I...” He interrupted me with a tight cuddle and rocked me. He just held me. It felt so good, I just relaxed in his arms.

He pulled his phone out and started making phone calls. One was to a guy named George. I think he worked for Charlie. After Charlie explained to him that he found me and asked for a bit of advice, they hung up. He asked me about whether I had any family at all, and about my belongings.

“No, Mr. Charlie, They were it. I have things at their house, my clothes. My books. A picture of my mother. She died when I was four, they said.”

“Let go of my neck for a minute.”

I shook. I was scared. “Promise not to leave me.”

He told me to hold his phone and handed it to me. “I won’t leave without that.” He started looking around the boat and glanced at me a couple of times while I was playing with his phone. I just rummaged through the contacts and the apps to see if he had any girls in there. I was just curious.

He found a raincoat and talked to me about cleaning off a bit while hiding in it. Yes, this was a nice guy. He was worried about my privacy and modesty. I had another idea, a better one in my young mind, so I handed him his phone, went to the back of the boat, pulled my suit off, grabbed a rope, and jumped in the water. He laughed. It was shallow enough that I could stand, with the water up to my shoulders.

“Charlie, can you throw me the rag, please.” He did, and I used it. All over, noticing that I had a few spots on my body that didn’t really want that. I remembered last night after I went poop, and was going to wash off and that snake or turtle or whatever went by. Bad choice. I should have thrown rocks at it and went in anyway. “Owww.” I got a bit noisy and explained to him that I was a bit sore and asked him to hold the jacket for me and I’d just climb up into it. It worked perfectly. Like I said, he was a nice guy. He didn’t peek, he didn’t perv on me, he didn’t say anything gross, he just held me when I climbed back into his lap. “Phone.” He handed it back to me, so I kept looking. It scared me when it vibrated, then it rang, so I handed it to him.

“Jackson,” he said, and listened for a while. He answered someone then told them how he’d found me. He answered a few questions or something, then handed me the phone. “Here, Robin. It’s a judge from down where I live.”

“Yes. This is Robin.”

“Hi, Robin. My name is Mathilda Matthews. I’m a family court judge down in St. Charles County. Are you OK, physically, and has he given you anything?”

“Yes, ma’am. Water and a sandwich.”

“What are you wearing?”

“His raincoat.”

“What were you wearing?”

“A little swimsuit, but it was dirty and rubbing my ... Between my legs and stuff.”

“Has he touched you inappropriately?”

“God, no!”

“He hasn’t said or done anything to make you afraid?”

“No.”

“So, he’s being a gentleman?”

“He seems to be.”

“Do you feel safe enough to stay with him until we get this sorted out?”

“So far, yes.”

“If that changes, Robin, have him call me immediately and I’ll have you picked up and brought into protective custody. The man he talked to earlier, George, works for Mr. Jackson, and is my nephew. Keep that between us for now. Let me talk to him.”

“OK.” I handed him the phone. “Here, she wants to talk to you.”

He talked to her for a bit, then hung up. All he said was, “Wow.” I guess he was having problems forming complete thoughts. He looked at me like I was a piece of crystal, and he was afraid I’d break. His hold on me got gently firmer.

I giggled. “She asked me if you had touched me and if you were nice.”

“But I have touched you.”

“Not what she meant. You really are a good guy, aren’t you? Hold me, please. I’m so scared.” I went from a giggle to almost crying again in just a few seconds. I shouldn’t make fun of him. I’m an emotional scramble.

He gave a bit more of the sandwich. He said he had some more, and it was OK, if I wanted it. It was really hitting the spot, and as I ate it, I stared at the engine on the boat and thinking about Susan and Gary, and what was going to happen now. Was anyone even looking for me yet? Did the school call anyone after only a day or two? Did they read the papers about the accident? I had no idea. Does anyone care if an orphan gets lost in the woods? If there is no one there to hear her, does she make a noise. STOP Robin, you’re talking crazy.

“Who are you?” I asked him.

“Just a guy,” he said, and went on to tell me about himself, going to school, the Air Force, going back to school, and all that. He lost his parents not too long ago, so he left the Air Force and came back to run his family’s company. We had a lot in common. We were both orphans. I might build on that if he stays nice and treats me like a person and not like Gary was thinking of doing.

“Oh, are you married? Kids? Other family?” I already knew he wasn’t. He had no idea how to act around a girl. He was as frightened of me as I was of being lost.

“No. To all that.”

Here’s my chance. “Want some?” I could do a lot worse. He had money, he was a gentleman, he had a judge helping me already. This was not a bad place to be in, considering the last fourteen years. I needed to be careful what I did with this information and also my words, because I’m a bit young, but he was tall, big, and really, really easy to look at. Patrick Swayze easy. Mankind lost one there, I thought. I watched Dirty Dancing with Susan a couple of weeks ago, and I guess he kind of stuck in my mind.

“We’ll see, Robin. First, we need to make sure you’re OK and get people to know you’re OK. Someone has to be looking for you.”

“Who knows? My flip flops were on the boat, but I was sitting here thinking. They were the same size as Susan’s. There is nothing else on the boat to indicate I was even there, and they ... I don’t know. Maybe.”

His phone vibrated, shaking my thoughts again, then it rang. I answered it.

“Charles Jackson’s phone. May I help you?”

“Are you still OK with him there?”

“Yes, ma’am. We were just talking.”

“Well, here’s the deal, and I’ll go over it and see what you think. If you want to, we can stick you with him until one of you gets tired of the other, he doesn’t want the responsibility, or he gets stupid. I don’t think that’s going to happen. George is convinced he’s a great guy. If I do this the way it sounds you may want, I can have him keep you for the time being. Interested?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be so talkative.” We both giggled a bit at that. I was being kinda quiet, but it wasn’t because I was being a jerk, I just wanted to listen. “OK. I’m having him take you to an ambulance crew, and a policeman, but they are just going to check you out and see that you are OK. The police are going to ask you some questions about the accident, then let you go with Mr. Jackson. You have a little time to think it over, until they all call me back, to make sure you want this.”

“Please.”

“OK, let’s work on it. This could be a great benefit for you, Robin. You’ll save the state a lot of money and be well taken care of. Just make sure that’s the case. Let’s do this.”

“Thank you. Here he is.” This is going to be so cool. I handed him the phone.

They talked about me for a while, and he answered a couple of questions. He told her that when he cuddled me, I stopped crying. It was true. I did. He answered something then she ended the call.

“Robin, we’re leaving. You have two choices, either move and sit next to me, or learn to drive a boat.”

I didn’t move. Driving a boat is fun. His boat is fast, too. The engine thing is huge, as big an easy chair, and takes up all kinds of room back there. Fun, fun. It was hard, though, and the faster we went, the harder it was to turn the wheel, so after a bit, I asked him to do it and just held on to his neck again. I laid my head on his shoulder and could feel myself melt. That felt good. Really good.

We came around the big, long pile of rocks to where the docks and ramps were. There was a big ambulance there. He held me up to his chest with one arm, like I was a toddler, tying the boat up, then walked with me in his arm up to the back of the ambulance. He set me down, so I was standing in the truck, then let me go.

“Charlie, can you sit in the doorway and watch your boat, please?” I pulled on his collar to get him closer, sitting inside instead of leaning against the truck. “Back up. Closer. Thanks. Just watch the boat. Good boy.” I had to laugh. It was so cute. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, Robin. You need to smile, too. You’ll be OK.” I think it was then, when he said that. The way he said it. His tone of voice. He cared how I felt. Really cared how I felt. I think I didn’t want him as my foster parent anymore. I wanted him to be more. Much more.

The ambulance lady gave me a gown and helped me off with the jacket. She helped me tie the gown in the front but told me normally those tie in the back. They didn’t use them very often, but she said it didn’t matter for what we were doing. She did all the medical stuff, took my temperature and put the blood pressure thing on my arm.

When she laid me back on the sheet and had me lift my knees back, she said, “Whoa. That needs some help.” She put some cream on it, rubbing it all around my butthole, then told me what to use, Desitin would be best, most likely, and to be careful with it. She said it would work for the rash on my neck and my legs, too. After about a million and a half questions and her touching me everywhere, squeezing every bone in my body with her hands to make sure they were all in one piece, she told me to hang on and pulled her phone out.

“No obvious problems, ma’am. I’m turning her over to him on your orders to take her home.” She listened for a bit, then said, “Yes, ma’am, you’re welcome.” She looked at me and smiled, then held up her fingers, one at a time. One, two, three, then said, “Mr. Jackson, congratulations ... It’s a girl.” We both cracked up giggling. She hugged me, wished me luck, had me put some little slippers on, and helped Charlie get me out of the back of the ambulance.

Right then a big police car showed up and a policeman with a bunch of stripes on his sleeve showed up. He must’ve been a bit more than a street cop. ‘Macon County Sheriff’ is what the car said. Charlie introduced me to him as Robin Rappaport, the child lost after the boat wreck on Monday evening.

He asked me what happened, and I told him, pretty much exactly, including the part about Gary being rude. He handed me a card with a few numbers on it and told us to take care. He looked at me funny, a fourteen-year-old girl being held up under her butt by a big guy. I really looked like an old baby up there. It felt good, actually.

Now that all that was over, Charlie asked if he could put me down long enough to back his truck in and get the boat on the trailer. I watched as he did all that, then when he put me in the truck, I noticed it had one of those flip up boxes in the middle. Another person could sit there. I was that other person that day. I belted myself in and snuggled up next to him.

“Robin, call George for me, please.”

I did, and when he answered, I said, “George, Robin. Charlie would like to speak to you.” He laughed. I had the phone on speaker.

“Wow, you finally worked in a PA. I’ll let HR know.”

“Stuff it, George.” George and I laughed. “Who is Mathilda, exactly? Your job depends on you being honest.”

“My mother’s sister. My aunt Mattie.”

They traded jabs back and forth, keeping me in stitches. Then he said something that made my day.

“Thank you. I’m staying here through the weekend. Robin needs clothes and her status is up in the air. Your aunt wants us in her office Wednesday at two. You help me make sure that happens.”

“Yes, sir. Do you need any help?”

They were still kidding each other, I think. Charlie said, “Robin, George wants to know if I need any help.” I shook my head, smiling almost enough to crack my face. He did not need any help with me, at least. We were going to be just fine! I’m pretty sure my tears were gone.

They chatted for a bit then hung up and Charlie decided to check into the hotel first, laughing about lying to George, as if it was a big deal, then we’d go shopping and let me lose the little hospital gown and cardboard slippers. I was looking forward to it, but this thing was pretty easy on the rashes and stuff.

Up in the rooms, I was kind of amazed. Where Gary had a room with two queen beds in it, Charlie got two rooms with a door between them, each with a king-sized bed and a big tub with waterspouts in it, out by the bed. There was a tub and a shower in the bathroom. It was pretty neat. For then, he had me take a shower, clean up a bit, then I put the gown back on and we headed out.

He let me pick out all kinds of neat things, clothing, underwear, and personal stuff, then I grabbed the Desitin like the ambulance lady told me to, hit the shoe department up for some ... Neat. High heeled sandals. Those will look cute. I was able to find a bra with the convertible straps. With the rash around my shoulders from the life preserver, I needed it. I could use it for other stuff, too. He took some stuff up front, paid for it, showed the lady at the changing rooms the receipt so she wouldn’t have us arrested for shoplifting, then when I came back out, I saw Mr. Charlie Jackson smile. Really, really smile. I think he thinks I don’t look that terrible. Goody.

He asked if I was OK, and if the rash on my shoulders was hurting. I explained that I’d need to use the Desitin pretty soon, “different issue. We’ll talk.” He nodded. He’s pretty quick.

He asked if I was hungry, and when I didn’t answer right away, he more or less provided me with a little speech. If I was going to be with him, I had to help make decisions and tell him what I wanted. I’m pretty sure what he was getting at was honesty. He wanted me to be honest with him and tell him how I really felt. I could tell in his voice it was because he wanted to take care of me and couldn’t if we didn’t talk.

I stared him down. “Mexican.” I’d seen a Mexican restaurant as we drove over to Wal-Mart, so I knew there was one in town. He made a pretty big deal out of my selection.

“I know we just met, but honey, I love you.” He grinned.

“Feed me Mexican and it’ll be a two-way street.” I giggled, letting him know I wasn’t upset about our little talk. He grinned and we ran around Wal-Mart getting what we needed, then headed back to the room. He picked up some beer, and we had some snacks and sodas. He put some stuff in the little refrigerator under the coffee maker while I went next door. I shucked the shorts and my panties and spent about three whole minutes rubbing the Desitin on, and in. It felt good. It felt very good. It almost got me horny. If there wasn’t a rash there, and I was alone in my room, I would have finished myself off. I made myself a bit wet, so I went into the bathroom, and wet part of a washrag, then cleaned up a bit without messing with the Desitin and put a mini pad in my undies. ‘Hello, Kitty’, I said, not necessarily looking at the little cartoon animal on my panties. I am not all that good of a girl, I guess.

When I was done, he was ready, so we headed for that little Mexican place. I love Mexican food and got a combo with some things I like. He got a combo with some other things I like. This would be fun. He also got a margarita, a frozen lime one, and I snuck more of that than I drank of my Mountain Dew, I think. I should have fun tonight. Caffeine laced with alcohol, or vice versa.

We talked about the different foods I liked, and I wound up explaining to him how foster kids generally learn how to serve others and fend for themselves, cooking being one of the first things learned.

He was happy about the fact that I liked Mexican food, so I told him we could start our relationship there.

“Robin,” he said, “I think we are going to have fun together if Mathilda lets you keep me.” The way he said it was so cute, I just broke out giggling again. That made him smile. My giggling makes him smile. Note to self.

Judge Matthews called twice to check on me. I told her I was being well taken care of, felt very safe, and was happy. I told her, “Judge, if you’ll let me keep him, I think I can train him. He’s nice and likes outdoors stuff and we’re having fun together. Honest.”

“I just need to make sure it stays that way, Robin. We’re taking quite a chance here, but I’ve talked to George and done some checking, so I think all will be well. You be good, and if you need anything, let me know.” I told her I would, and we signed off.

I was getting around a bit easier, having less trouble walking and sitting down. Charlie noticed and asked me about it. He knew it was a diaper rash on my bottom from being dirty in the woods and was concerned about me. It was clearing up nicely, but I went to him, hugged him, and kissed him on his cheek, thanking him for caring enough about me to ask. It was truly a sweet thing to do.

We packed everything up, my new clothes and personal stuff still in bags, and headed out Sunday afternoon. We had a lot to do, he said. The biggest thing was school. We needed to get my books, just all kinds of stuff needed to be done. The judge called that night and asked about my things up in Kirksville. I told her about the books, school supplies, the picture, and the small amount of clothes I had. No one wants to spoil a kid that may be gone the next month. They kept clothes on my back, but it’s not like there was a lot or anything. I really wanted the picture of Mom, though, and I needed all my identification papers. I had a passport and a birth certificate in an envelope in the top drawer of my little dresser.

The judge asked a woman deputy up there to help gather my stuff, take the schoolbooks back to the school and stick everything in a box and send it to me. At least I’d have a little of my familiar life back. That was something.

Sunday evening we were talking about the future. I’d never thought about it. Finish high school, try somehow to go to college. Get a job, conquer the world. He laughed.

“Call the judge back. She said to call her anytime.”

“She told me the same thing.”

“Good. We’ll be in double trouble.”

He wound up asking her if he could put me into a private school. There was one right here in the neighborhood, he said, but she warned him it might be a bit hard.

I wanted to laugh, but I held it back. I whispered in Charlie’s ear, “Tell her I’ll explain on Wednesday, but I’ll be fine.” I wasn’t the dullest knife in the drawer. I was basically coasting through school with perfect grades but didn’t have the resources yet to help me with AP courses for college credits and all that. It takes money to turn those into something besides a grade. I’d talk to Charlie about it later.

He told her and she agreed. She was on speaker, so I could hear when she said to tell me ‘Hi’ and to take care of him. I yelled, “I will, ma’am,” and could hear her laughing when she hung up. She was a neat lady. I could tell.

That night, we put all of my things in the back bedroom, not the guestroom, but a different one. It had a bathroom between it and a gym room. He explained to me what everything was, and a couple of times called it his parents’ this or his parents’ that. It wasn’t long ago that he lost them, and I could tell it still weighed pretty heavily on him at times. I did my best to cheer him up.

I put one of his tee shirts on and went back out to say goodnight. He’d been letting me wear one in the hotel, and I liked it, so I never got around to getting pajamas, or giving the tee shirts back. Anyway, I went out, hugged him, wished him goodnight, kissed his cheek again, and went back to the room. I will say this; his house was grand.

I laid down in the bed, looked up at the ceiling, and thought about the last four or five days. The day before that time period, the accident, and the time before the trip down to the lake the last time. The ceiling started staring back. Not good. I was never going to sleep at this rate, so I got up and went to his room. The door was open. I think he sensed me being there.

“What’s up, punkin?”

“Can’t sleep,” I told him. “Can I lay down here and listen to the news for a bit? I’ll probably get tired. It’s getting close to mid-term election time.” I made a funny, I hope. He was watching the news, and politics, to me, anyway, is boring, so I wound up giggling at my own joke.

He said, “Sure, doll.” I felt myself chill a bit when he said it. Shivers, whatever. Just calling me ‘doll’ affected me. He pulled the blankets and sheets up over himself and let me in under the bedspread. There was an empty pillow there. I don’t remember anything else until I woke up. On him. Naked him. I somehow wound up under the sheet and was all over him. He snuck out from under me and ran to the bathroom.

 
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