Genesis

It was a beautiful late September afternoon in San Francisco. The Powell Street cable car plaza was free of tourists. The street bands were still holding their usual spots, but their music was muted, relaxed, as if the musicians needed some catalyst from an audience to really come alive. I had left my office early, intending to go to the Golden Gate Street "Y" for a jazzercise work out.

There are moments in our lives when the world disappears, the sun warms, sights and sounds fade, our inner spirits seem to hover outside our bodies. That was my state when a very young woman interrupted with, "Wanna date?"

Flustered, popped so sharply back to reality, I could only stare at her, my mouth hanging open. She was short, plump, a sweet faced late teens with long flowing, light brown hair. She smiled and arched her back, displaying firm breasts under her tight Tee shirt. When I lifted my eyes to hers, I felt an immediate, strong connection with her. I became aware of sad desperation, a yearning for something lost, never to be found again. I could only mumble, "Sorry," and turn away.

It's been years since that event, but I've never forgotten her face, nor the feelings she shared in that brief moment. So let's go exploring.

What might happen if two empaths joined together? Empathy may be more an awareness of body language and facial expressions than a 'mental' connection, but what would happen if... ?

Discovery

Summer in San Francisco is pleasantly cool. Tourists standout because they wear shorts and tee shirts and shiver a lot. But today was that odd day in June when the weather turned around and the wind carried the heat from the central valleys to The City By the Bay.

I'm walking down Market Street on this beautiful afternoon, crunching the last of an ice cream cone and returning smiles. Turning onto Turk Street, I see a young woman come out of 'A Dark and Dirty Place for Books'. She looks like a high school kid, wearing a red tube top under an extra large red and gold Niner's jacket over baggy black jeans. I stared at her small, round bare belly as she approached. Her pale tummy had my total concentration, oddly.

As we passed I heard a soft mumble, "Wanna date?"

I took about two steps further before it stopped me.

"Whaat?" I said, spinning around almost tripping over my own feet.

The girl was still walking away, but smiling over her shoulder, one eye hidden behind her light brown, almost golden in the sunlight, long hair.

As I approached her, she reversed her direction, grinning as if delighted. I noticed tension in her eyes.

"You heard me, didn't you?" Her eyes sparkled and danced over a wicked little grin.

"Yes, but you look a little young to be 'dating'." Using her euphemism.

A fearful look flashed across her pretty face.

"You a cop?"

"Are you?" I said, shaking my head.

She giggled, very cute, "No, of course not."

"Flash me."

"What do you mean, flash you?"

"Show me your tits so I know you're not a decoy. What's your name, girl?" I knew she wasn't a decoy, she didn't have that detached look behind her eyes, or that 100 yard stare street sex workers seem to have.

Glancing quickly around, she put her thumbs under the tube top and lifted it to briefly display a cute pair of pink nippled pointy cupcakes.

"Marla. What's yours?"

"Just call me 'Higgins'," I smiled a friendly face at her. God, she is the one and she's cute! I felt a momentary fluster within my excitement. This young woman was the source of the stress I'd been feeling for the past few days.

"So?" she smirked, her eyebrows waggling. "You wanna a date, or not?"

"Come with me," I said, taking her arm to steer her between parked cars, waving to a taxi turning the far corner.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, nervous now, reluctant, holding back.

"My place. Don't worry. You are perfectly safe with me."

"How do I know that for sure?" she said tightly, frowning, pulling a half step away.

"Look, little girl! If you have the balls to offer strangers 'dates', you must know how to take care of yourself. Right?"

"Yeah, I can take care of myself," she said with heated defiance, a bit of a glare in her eye.

The taxi stopped. I opened the back door, gesturing for her to enter.

She took a deep breath and blew out through pursed lips. She gave me a calculating look before bending herself into the back seat.

God, she's delicious! My eyes fondled her curvy little ass.

"Potrero Hill. 17th St. park," I yelled at the driver, a turbaned Sikh.

He was staring intently at us, his eyes bouncing from the girl to me and back again in his rear view mirror.

"Okay, little sister. I will not tell Mom you cut school. We'll get your problem sorted out." I reached over and patted her shoulder.

The taxi lurched forward.

Marla looked at me with big, questioning eyes. Her mouth opened as if she would ask something. I waved a flat hand over my knee and pointed my forefinger at the driver.

She blinked, nodded, scrunching her lips tightly shut.

The taxi made a hard left onto Polk St. throwing her body over onto mine. I could smell her rancid hair. Another fact cataloged. As I helped her straighten up, she pressed her hand on my leg. Her fingernails were ragged, chewed short, half her pink fingernail polish chipped off and there was a raw hangnail patch on her ring finger. Cataloged.

I looked at her pretty face closely. Clear skin, lightly tanned. A wide mouth with full lips framing even teeth.

"Howya doin' in school, Sis? Still aceing Math and History?"

That surprised her. She made big eyes at me then nodded her head and started to speak, but I cut her off.

"I'm psychic," I said with no expression.

We got a green at Market Street. We rode in silence as 10th Street changed to Potrero. Traffic was light and we had a green at 17th Street. A moment later I was throwing a ten at the driver as we scrambled out.

"Keep the change. Thanks."

I turned to face Marla. She looked at me sharply with hard eyes.

"Let's go sit on the bleachers. We need to have a little chat."

The sun felt pleasantly warm, it was too early in the day for a breeze. As we walked towards the bleachers, Marla took off her jacket and twirled it over her shoulder.

"You like the 'Niners?"

She gave me a 'Duh' look.

"Where do you live?"

"The Avenues. Do you live around here?" she said, looking directly at me for the first time in a while.

"Yup." I gestured up the hill with my chin.

"Nice. It's warm in this part of The City. I like the fog swirling around out in the Avenues though. Unless I'm down."

We sat ourselves on the first row of the bleachers. I straddling the bench for the pleasure of facing her.

"Tell me your story."

She slumped, pushing her fists between her knees, her long hair hiding her face. The back of her arm was speckled with little red dots from elbow to armpit. Cataloged.

She turned her head, one blue eye peeped at me. She lifted her hair and hooked it behind her ear.

"You're the psychic, you tell me." Her sweet faced grin charmed. "And tell me your name again."

"Higgins. You don't want to marry your boyfriend."

She shook her head and scrunched her lips.

"Right. Not this one. I hang with him 'cause he eats me good."

She looked for my reaction and seemed surprised that I just nodded.

"That important?"

"Sometimes I get horny, I guess."

"Sometimes?"

"A couple of times a month I get so horny that I wear out my vibrator. Almost."

She chuckled and sat up straight. She tilted her head back and scanned the sky, not seeing anything.

"If it wasn't rechargeable, I'd go broke buying batteries."

I laughed with her.

"Tell me what happened. Why were you hooking today?"

She pivoted her butt around, throwing a leg over the bleacher's aluminum plank seat. She took another deep breath, the little pillows on her chest very enticing.

"Well, yesterday, Jed and me, that's my boyfriend, were doin' it in my bedroom." She shuddered and closed her eyes.

"One minute after Jed left, my step dad walks in. He didn't bother knocking, he just walks in like he owns the place." She barked a little laugh. "Well, he does own the place but..."

She made her face look annoyed. "It's my room and..."

"Stepfather?" I interrupted, wanting the heart of the scene.

"Paul is a really great guy and all, but I just don't feel good fucking my mother's husband. That's too weird. Even for me. You know?"

"Mm, hm." I agreed.

"I'm sitting Indian like on my bed, still naked, he just walks up to me and whips out the biggest dong I've ever seen in my life." She gave me a wide eyed look, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Well, to cut to the chase, he stuck that whopper in my face and told me to suck it." She wrapped her arms around herself and laughed softly, twisting her body slowly.

"So I did. Sort of," she mused. "Only that baby fist head would fit. He held my head and started jacking off really fast." She gulped. "That really scared me. I didn't want a mouthful of his... You know." She stopped, her mouth twisting like she was remembering the feel and didn't like the memory.

I didn't say a word.

"He was panting and moaning, telling me how good it felt, how he'd wanted to do this to me for such a long time. That scared me even more, like he'd been lurking around with a hot rod in his pants for me. God, his face was so red, and he had spit bubbling in the corners of his mouth."

She slumped again, almost curling into a fetal position, her hair a cascade of highlights around her knees.

"Actually, you know, it feels good to tell somebody about this." She tilted her head to look at my face. "It's been feeling like a turd stuck sideways." She put a soft smile on under sad eyes.

"Yeah, there's a little dark spot inside you, Marla. It seems to be fading."

I spoke softly with much warmth. Her little face, framed by her hair, broke out in a bigger, more relaxed smile.

"Keep talking."

"Okay. After a minute he yanks my hair really hard and flips me onto my back. He grabs my ankles, jams my legs up wide and tells me to 'Put it in'. He keeps begging me, 'Put it in.' 'Put it in.' I felt like he had control of my brain. I grabbed that fat pecker and aimed it for him." She shuddered and gave a tiny grunt. She seemed to be breathing faster than a moment before.

"Higgins, I swear to you, when he jammed his cock into me, I felt like my fairy godmother had granted me a wish. For the first time, I felt filled. One minute I was empty, the next I was full. My boy friend had just preheated the oven and I was ready to bake some cake." She started rocking back and forth, shaking her head in wonderment.

"He pulled out and jammed me hard. He let out a big grunt when he bottomed out. He'd hold still for a moment then he'd pull almost all the way out and jam in again." She was quiet for a long minute.

"After a minute or so, it seemed, he did something I've never done before. He pulled my legs down and got his legs outside of mine. He starts humping on me real fast. His cock is rubbing my clit up and down and..." She took a slow breath. "I started coming on his cock. That's never happened before." She shook her head slowly back and forth, her eyes big.

"I've got to get away from him. He wants more, and, to be honest, so do I." She took a deep breath and sat up straight. She made a very determined face.

"He's beautiful, you know," she said wistfully, "I know he'll want to knock me up. I kinda want him to, but that'd be a really, really bad thing."

"Why's that, Marla."

"'Cause Momma would know. As soon as she saw the baby, she'd know and it would kill her. She loves him truly. Shit, if I went home tonight she'd see it in my face when I looked at him."

"Is he black, Marla?"

She nodded. "I can't go back," she whispered.

"Where can you go, then?"

"My sister's. She lives in Tahoe City," She'd let me stay. She's got room."

"So you need money for?"

"Bus."

"My name's Gavin." I held out my hand. She gave me a startled look, her arm lifting slowly. I wrapped my big hand around her tiny fingers and stood.

"Marlene. Marly." She rose and shuffled up to me. We wrapped each other in a tight hug. I turned my face away from her stinky hair.

"You're gonna be good to me, aren't you." she didn't make it a question.

"Yes, I am. Very good."

"Why? How?"

"Don't exactly know yet, but I think some good stuff will be happening soon. For both of us. Let's go."

We walked slowly, enjoying the sun's warmth, hand in hand. We smiled into each others faces. Her expressive little face open and happy.

"Where are you taking me, Gavin?"

"Home. To my condo up there in the Mews."

She looked around, wide eyed, as we stepped through the door.

"Hey, this is pretty fancy," she exclaimed.

She darted over to a painting to peer closely at it.

"Wow, French impressionist. Is it real?"

She bent to read the brass label.

"Hungry, Marly?" I swatted her butt lightly. She swiveled her hips, offering the other cheek. I obliged her.

"Whatcha got?" she grinned, putting a sparkly eyed, lascivious expression on her face.

"Bread and cheese, at least."

She gave me a pout. Faux, but very cute.

"God, you're cute, pretty girl!"

"That's redundant," she said smartly.

"No, not at all. You are very pretty and you can be ever so cute sometimes."

"Thank you, sir. I like the way you said that."

"Mm?"

"So sincere, so honest. Like I totally believe you. You like me, don't you." She made it a statement of fact.

"Don't let it go to your head. You are a little ragged around the edges."

That killed her smile so I softened the impact by cupping her cheek in my hand for a moment.

"Time for you to slice some bread, little girl." I pulled her arm towards the kitchen. As she danced in front of me. I ogled her sweet little ass. Don't think I'll ever get tired of that.

"There's a bread knife in the rack. There's a baguette in that basket." I waved vaguely at the counter next to the sink.

"Hey, there's a pool down there," she exclaimed. "Tennis courts, too." She was standing on tiptoes at the sink, leaning forward to look out the window, her arms braced on the counter top.

I rummaged in the fridge looking for lunch fixings. I carried last night's leftover salad and half a round of Brie to the counter alongside Marly, couldn't help but stare at her delicious profile. Her ass was a little bubble of joy. Her slouch made it stick out and her bare, rounded belly stick out in front. Her breasts were looking very tasty too. Slice the tops off jumbo muffins and stick 'em under a tight shirt. That's the picture.

"How old are you, Marlene?"

She flashed me a tight eyed look. "Sixteen," she said after a moment.

I tilted my head.

"Okay, fourteen, but I'm a sophomore." She blinked and looked away. "I'll be fifteen in August." Her eyes darted back to mine. "I skipped second grade," she said proudly as if guessing my next question.

I tossed her the Brie, and tonged salad onto two plates.

"Slice that into thin strips. It's too cold to smear."

"Don't you have a girl friend, Gavin?" Her tone hopeful. "You live in a fancy place, and you aren't ugly or anything."

I gave her my best 'Gee, thanks' look.

"My girl friend transferred to L. A. a while ago." I felt a small twinge. "I miss her, but her parents are not well. She wants to help take care of them. Can't get in the way of that." I made a big sigh that I regretted sharing.

"Do you miss her a lot? You seemed really sad."

"Yeah, but it's better this way. We had some serious issues that probably couldn't be resolved."

"Like?"

"She wasn't that much fun in bed."

"Maybe that was your fault."

I looked at her hard, but she just raised her eyebrows.

"I've had to play teacher with three boys so far. I dumped the first two 'cause they wouldn't do what I wanted."

"Eat you out?" I felt like being crass with her.

"Eat me out with enthusiasm. They didn't get into it, and I didn't get off on it." She was very matter of fact.

A sudden realization. "Ah, that's why your step dad is so dangerous. It's not that he's big, and gets you off with his cock. He hit you with intense enthusiasm. True?"

"Lots and lots of enthusiasm." Her tinkling laughter seemed to fill the kitchen.

"What do you want to drink?"

"Got some beer?"

"Becks or Coors?"

"Coors." She pronounced it curs.

We ate in silence. She forked her salad, chewing noisily with her mouth open. I decided to keep mine shut. For the moment, anyway.

"What's your name, Marlene?"

"I don't like my name. It's Finklestein. Until I started beatin' 'em up, kids called me Tinklestein."

"Piss pot, so to speak."

"I didn't think of that," she laughed. "That's funny. Sort of."

"You seem like you're pretty smart. Are you?"

She nodded her head. "Yeah, I read a lot." She held my eyes for a moment as if debating how much she should reveal. "And I get good grades."

"Good. I think you've got four options. Want to hear what I think?"