(For the Love of Clarissa)

I was about to retire from my job and was none too happy about it. At sixty-four years old, healthy, vigorous, and suddenly alone due to the passing of my wife a year earlier, I was in no way ready to continue my lonely existence without the distractions of work.

My business was sales, and I traveled quite a bit. As the month of my forced retirement approached, I eagerly took any opportunity to go on these road trips. My route was fairly confined and I usually took a Greyhound to make my rounds.

It was on the last trip slotted for me that I met Clarissa. She was traveling alone and just happened to have the seat next to mine on this, for her, long trip from Tampa to somewhere in Rhode Island. I too was going to Rhode Island. I was going home.

I saw her as I ambled down the passageway, a singular spot of light in the rear of a dim, crowded vehicle. Seated in the very back row, her head was leaned against the window and she drew circles in the condensation that had gathered on the glass. It was humid and raining outside and the air was damp. She was strikingly beautiful with long, sleek, nearly black hair, and a dark complexion. She wore a blue jean skirt, a cropped orange t-shirt, and Birkenstock sandals. The contrast of bright orange against her dark skin made her positively glow.

As I seated myself, she turned, her brown eyes luminescent in the growing darkness, and gave me a smile. I returned the gesture and settled down in the aisle seat, leaving the middle one empty.

Silence reigned. I stole glances at her, noting her sad eyes, the slump of her posture, the glow of her skin. It was impossible to judge her age. She could be a youthful twenty, or a grown up twelve, but her appearance was so provocative that I found it difficult to tear my eyes away. I suppose she felt my glances because once, after watching her thigh become even more exposed as she twisted into a comfortable position, I shifted my eyes up and found myself looking into hers. She wore a small knowing smile and met my look head on. Blushing, I returned to my magazine and tried to ignore her.

"Do you have a wife?" Her question came out of the blue.

"No, not anymore," I answered, still looking at the magazine in my lap.

"Did she leave you?"

"No, she died."

"I'm sorry, that was a rude question wasn't it?"

At last, I looked at her. She was sitting slightly askew, facing me with one ankle tucked under the opposite thigh, her legs slightly spread. I couldn't help it because I knew what I would see; my eyes dropped down and there were her panties peeking out from underneath the blue of her skirt. It was difficult to tell in the obscure atmosphere, but I thought they were white cotton. At once, my penis twitched and rose to attention.

"No, it wasn't rude," I managed to say, drawn to that secret spot between her legs, "it was just honest." I stared, yes I stared, and the girl shifted again, slipping her buttocks down and allowing the skirt to ride higher. Again, a glance at her face revealed that amused, knowing smile. I gulped.

"So, are you all alone then?" She asked.

"I have two grown children. What's your name?" My question followed a bit too eagerly on the tail of my reply, but she only laughed a little and continued to eye me.

"Clarissa. What's yours?"

"Thomas, but you can call me Tom." It sounded stupid to me, but the words were just tumbling out of their own accord at that point. I was uncomfortably aware of my erection, hoping she couldn't see it, but guessing that she could if she chose to look. Something about her eyes held my gaze when all I really wanted to do was stare at her golden legs again and perhaps have another peek at those little panties.

"Pleased to meet you Tom." And she held out a small tan hand with a large opal shimmering on the third finger.

I took her hand and quite before I could stop myself, I raised it to my lips and kissed it, instantly feeling a fool. "The pleasure is all mine Clarissa."

She put her hand back in her lap making no effort to close her legs or otherwise hide herself from my stares. And stare I did, I lingered on her crotch, that tight feeling in my pants growing proportionately to the amount of time I spent looking at her. It was subtle, but I was sure she once again shifted in order to afford me an even better view.

I was extremely aroused by then. Again, I wondered about Clarissa's age but dared not ask for fear of what she might tell me. I didn't want to know, I wanted only to continue to feast my eyes on her and enjoy the low whispers in which she spoke.

"I asked if your wife left you because that's what my mother did. She ran off and left Daddy and me when I was four and moved to Rhode Island. I'm going to see her now; it will be the first time in many years," She hung her head for a moment, something dark haunting her eyes. "She doesn't know I'm coming."

I sympathized even while I was unsure what that really meant. Was she a runaway? A criminal perhaps? She seemed far too sweet to be the latter, but the runaway image inflamed me for some reason. Without thinking, I placed my hand on her leg and patted, assuring her that it would probably be all right. I was hard, so hard, and her smooth skin under my palm only worsened my condition. I stroked for a moment, lingering above her knee. She merely looked at me until I reluctantly pulled my hand away.

"It must be hard being all alone Tom."

"Yes, sometimes it's lonely. My daughters have married and moved away so I don't get to see them or my grandchildren very often. But I manage."

She turned and stared out the window, lost in thought and far away from that small bus. Worried that I'd upset her, I left her in peace and returned to my magazine, but I still felt her nearness, and my erection refused to go away.

It must have been close to a half hour later that I looked up again. Maybe it was her gaze pulling me, or just my own inner conscious reminding myself that I had a lovely girl sitting right beside me and that I should take full advantage of her beauty while I could. My breath caught in my throat when I saw her again. She was resting quietly, her head against the backrest, her angelic eyes open and fixed on me, her face in peaceful repose framed by all that glorious, silky hair. Moist lips parted, she took shallow breaths, each inhalation somehow resounding in my head with the force of a hurricane. As my eyes traveled lower, I caught sight of her tummy, the muscles refined and striking and calling out for a touch. Her thighs were parted, those panties finally revealed in detail with little blue flowers decorating them. At her sides her hands rested, palms up, open, relaxed.

I licked my lips and allowed emotion to wash over me. I ached to touch this girl, this creature of openness and sexuality. It was as if I were a youth again, excited by the presence of a female, yet it was deeper than that also. Somehow, I felt her affection for me, though I had no idea why or how it manifested itself inside one so young and alluring. My penis responded with a surge and at once my pants grew tight. Involuntarily, my hands twitched, wanting to reach out and trail a finger across those snug white panties. To touch her would be paradise.

"Tom?" her whisper interrupted my enchantment, "Please Tom. Do it. Touch me."

The amazement I felt over her having read my thoughts soon gave way to the base need within me and I stretched out a trembling hand. It hovered just over her knee for a moment, already absorbing the warmth of her skin, then it descended as a hang glider, slowly, gently, touching down on that coveted flesh and stroking her knee softly.

Moving a tiny bit closer, Clarissa sighed her contentment. Her face shone with pleasure as she accepted my touch. She shifted her body down, the movement bringing her right leg across the middle seat and sending my palm higher along her thigh. Those panties were within easy reach, the leg elastic just touching my finger.

I heard my breath quicken, oh God, she was so soft, and my senses were alive in a way they had not been for a long time. Her exquisite scent drifted up to engage me further and I inhaled quickly so as not to miss even a hint of her smell. Growing bold, I stroked, drawing circles on her skin much like the ones Clarissa had drawn on the window, each swipe contacting the fabric of her panties and pressing a little higher.

She opened her mouth slowly, extended her tongue, and drew it across her lips. They glittered in the soft light and a small moan escaped her. At that sound, the hurricane in my head grew louder and I felt blood rush through my temples leaving a slow pounding roar in its wake. My cock was leaking steadily and I was certain that one touch would have me releasing even more right inside my pants.

"Higher Tom. Please?"

Again with that husky voice, imploring me, urging me simply to touch her, to enjoy the softness of her skin. I gulped and moved my fingers up the length of her thigh until her panties filled the palm of my hand. She was so hot; her heat enveloped me, turning me on, making me crave her pleasure more than my own.

"Oh yes," she hissed, her voice a sibilant caress upon my tortured nerve endings.

Aroused beyond belief, I touched this young girl's mound, stroking insistently, my middle finger strong and firm across the unbelievably pliant flesh that was merely a fabric's width away.

I felt her clitoris harden under my fingers as Clarissa spread her legs wider. Reaching up a shaking hand, I switched off the reading lamp above us and turned all my attention onto the beautiful girl beside me. I could not believe this was happening to me and my soul was filled with gratitude. Clarissa was perfect in every way, at least to my inflamed mind, and I wanted to please her more than I had ever wanted anything in my life.

It felt like hours, but at the same time I was aware that time was passing swiftly. I made no effort to take her all the way to orgasm, but simply kept on touching her, exploring her softness through her panties. Filled with awe, I was so afraid that I would frighten her away and I wanted to avoid that at all costs. Although I felt I needed to cum badly, I was prepared to leave things just as they were if that's what she wanted from me. Simply put, I was hers and would do as she willed.

"Where are you traveling to Tom?" She asked, still in that arousing, husky voice.

Confused, I ceased my movements at once thinking she was done with me and wished to talk once more.

"Don't stop Tom. Please?" Although she smiled, I saw her dreamy eyes take on a tortured look.

I thought it would be impossible to answer her question with my soul so enraptured, but I found the composure I needed, resumed my strokes on her damp panties, and located my voice. My answer came out stronger than I thought it would as I whispered that I was going to my home in Newport.

Clarissa sighed and I felt her legs begin to tremble under my touch.

"That's where I'm going. What a coincidence," she said, "faster, please."

The last syllable she spoke was raised a decibel and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. Freezing in that tight position for seconds that felt like minutes, Clarissa held still, then used her thighs to grind down hard onto my fingers. She clenched her body once more and in the very pale light, I saw her tummy tighten as a wave of pleasure rolled up her lithe body. Was she cumming? Oh dear God, what a sexy sight before me; my hand caught between her beautiful legs as she almost stealthily found pleasure in my touch.

I would never know for sure if she climaxed, but her body released a fresh flow of heady, thick juice that caused her panties to cling to the skin of her body. If I pressed the fabric between my fingers, a little moisture would seep out to coat them. I was so excited that I could barely restrain my own pleasure as my shaft throbbed and my balls ached.

Clarissa smiled at me and reached down, covering my hand with hers. She stopped my movements and let her fingertips tickle the back of my hand as she leaned over and kissed my cheek. She raised my damp fingers and kissed each one gently.

"Sweet Tom." She whispered, then excused herself to go the bathroom, which was just a step or two away from us.

While she was gone, I let out a heavy sigh and tentatively reached for my hard penis. I squeezed gently and took a deep breath as every nerve in my body cried out for attention. My mind floated, caught up in her youth and beauty, and I felt I wanted to keep Clarissa with me forever. When she returned a few moments later, I was in a reasonably calm state, but overjoyed to see her again.

"Clarissa? Are you all right honey?" My question was valid. I was afraid I'd hurt her self-esteem by allowing passion to overcome good sense. This girl didn't know me and I should not have taken advantage of her sweetness.

She fumbled in a bag at her feet and removed a bottle of water from which she drank deeply, before offering it to me. I accepted surprised by my boyish desire to place my lips where hers had just touched. What spell had this girl cast on me?

"Tom, don't worry. I'm fine. Please don't feel guilty. I wanted you to touch me; I even asked you to. Remember?"

I took a drink and looked into her eyes, trying not to notice the way they glittered in the absence of real light. A passing semi's headlights washed over her and I could see her smile more clearly, as well as the look on her face. It was serene and happy. My soul rejoiced.

"I do remember, Clarissa, but I've never done a thing like this before," I whispered. "You're so sweet and trusting. I don't want to hurt you in any way."

"You haven't and you won't. I can tell you're a decent man Tom, otherwise this would never have happened. Please don't feel bad. I want you to feel as good as I do. Okay?"

I met her concerned glance and gave her a smile. She returned it and moved to the middle seat laying her head on my shoulder. Her lilac smell drifted up to me and I closed my eyes as a feeling of such good will filled my mind.

"Okay." I said, "And I do feel good, honey."

"How long do you think it will be before we get to Newport?" She asked.

"Oh, less than an hour for sure."

"Good. I'm so tired Tom. What time is it?"

"It's nearly eleven o'clock."

"So tired." Her whisper was the last thing I heard as sleep took her.

Even though I had not gotten any relief, I was blissfully happy sitting there with Clarissa's head on my shoulder. I stroked her skin and smoothed the hair from her face as she slumbered against me. My mind created all sorts of interesting scenarios that featured the sexy young girl and though I knew it was foolish to do so, I made up my mind to ask for her telephone number. Perhaps then, if she were indeed underage, she would tell me so.

She woke as we pulled into the bus station and a moment of sharp regret coursed through my heart. I might never see her again, and I realized that I wanted to with all my heart. I almost cried as I saw her gathering her things and stuffing them into her bag. Plucking up a little courage, I called to her.

"Clarissa?"

Her eyes met mine as the driver turned on the overhead lights. I blinked as she was presented to me more completely than ever and I thought again how lovely she really was.

"What?"

"Well, I was thinking that if you got lonely, or bored, or anything like that while you're here in Newport... well... I dunno, maybe I could take you out or something. You could give me a telephone number... or I-I could give you mine... and then, well, maybe we could go out..."

I trailed off, embarrassed and uncomfortable, but Clarissa only smiled and squeezed my hand.

"I'd love that Tom, I really would. But..."

"Yes? What is it?"

"The truth is, I have no idea where I'm going, so I have no number to give you. I came here ready to see my mother, but I have to find her first, and in the meantime, I guess I'm sort of homeless. I had thought maybe there was a shelter or some place free where I could stay until I figure out what I'm going to do. Do you know of a place like that?"

Her explanation came out innocently, but the affect it had on me was dramatic. I was horrified at the thought of this sweet girl left out for the predators. Visions of her terribly molested body filled my mind, and I made up my mind right then and there; I was taking her home with me.

"Clarissa, please don't take this wrong, but I can't bear the thought of you with no place to go. I'd consider it an honor and a personal favor if you'd come to my house and take a guestroom until you find your mother, or until you find more suitable arrangements. It's not safe out there. Please say you will."

I heard everything I said rush out of me, and I thought how stupid I sounded, but it was from the heart and I prayed she would agree. She regarded me seriously, and then nodded her head.

"One condition though, Tom."

"Of course my dear. Anything."

"You have to let me make you breakfast in the morning."

I laughed, nodded, and took her arm. We walked in single file down the narrow passageway and finally departed the bus.

It took a little while to collect our bags and hail a cab. Clarissa had only a single backpack and a small shoulder bag. What I guessed were her only possessions in the world could be contained in so small a space; that realization humbled me.

The ride home was quiet. Clarissa was thoughtful and leaned against me for support as she stared out the window watching the city lights speed by. When we pulled up to my house in the suburbs, she expressed her pleasure in a drawn out exclamation. It really was a beautiful place. My late wife had taken such care of our home, and I had tried to keep her gardens as she left them. I smiled and led Clarissa into my home.

She looked around as I put our things away. Out of all three empty bedrooms, Clarissa chose the starkest. It truly was a guest room and neither of my two daughters had ever occupied it except for the odd occasions when our house filled with visiting guests. I marveled at the girl's intuitive perceptions. I also admired that she respected my family so much that she tried to keep her presence minimal.

We were both exhausted, so we had a nice, friendly conversation over a glass of milk and went upstairs where we parted company for the night. After my shower, I hit the bed and fell asleep immediately, feeling good that I had helped a nice young lady out that day.

I thought I was dreaming; indeed I had great difficulty distinguishing real life from the wispy dream like feel of a soft warm body snuggling next to mine. When I opened my eyes, however, there she was. Sweet little Clarissa, naked save for a small white t-shirt and fresh panties. She smelled of Zest soap and I realized her hair was damp. She'd taken a shower then come to me in my bed.

I shook my head at her and tried to look stern.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to do this. I expect nothing from you. Please, go back to your room now."

The bulge in my pajamas tried to argue with me, but I remained in control, aware of the fragile nature of this soft young body beside me. But Clarissa only smiled.

"You didn't really believe I wasn't going to come to you, did you, Tom? I could hardly wait until I got the water dried off to come in here and get into bed with you. I want you. Please, say you want me too. Please?"

All I could do was stare at her. My God, she was so lovely, and the tenderness I felt for her was unreal. I could be her father for Christ's sake. Maybe even her grandfather. It was then that I knew I had to ask. I had to find out how old she was because I wanted to make love to her right there in my bed.

"Clarissa, I have to ask, sweetheart. How old are you?"

"How old should I be? What age is all right Tom?" Her brown eyes revealed the depth of her emotion as they bored into mine. "I think I'm in love with you. Please, make love to me. Please Tom."

I groaned and threw the covers back. Sitting up, I reached out and drew my hand down her beautiful face.

"Tell me, Clarissa."

She sighed. "Okay, I turned eighteen two weeks ago. I'm sorry I'm not older. I'm sorry I'm not the woman you need."

Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked at me, her face mirroring the pain she felt. I crushed her body to mine and held her head close to me as she cried. I whispered how sorry I was, how incredibly sorry. I tried to explain that I had children older than her and even though she was eighteen and not the child I feared she was, I just couldn't reconcile the age difference, but she only cried harder. I left her in my bed after she fell asleep, hesitant to disturb her, but I moved far away and thought about her for a long time before sleep claimed my tired body.

Ham. Yes, the wonderful smell of frying ham woke me. I realized that I was very hungry so I dressed and went downstairs. Clarissa stood in the kitchen whisking eggs in a large stainless steel bowl and tending the frying pan. She was still wearing only the skimpy t-shirt and panties that she'd slept in the night before, but the warm smile on her face lifted my spirits.

She handed me a cup of coffee and told me to sit down and talk to her while she cooked. I was glad to see that she felt better, but I could not help allowing my gaze to roam her body. She was small, very small. Standing about five feet tall, I guessed she couldn't weigh much over one hundred pounds, if that. As she moved this way and that, scrambling eggs and making toast, I observed her quiet grace and found myself once more enraptured by her nearness. Her breasts were small, I could see that well under the thin top that covered them, but her nipples stood out tall, pressing enticingly against her shirt.

Once more, my cock began to swell and lust flowed through my veins, invigorating me. She barely took notice of me as she was caught up in her work. She rummaged through my cabinets, searching for this spice or that ingredient. It was clear she was at home in the kitchen, which almost belied her other persona of a worldly young lady, but it made me happy to have her there.

I retrieved the Saturday paper from the porch, sat back down and began to read as Clarissa cooked for me. At some point, she began to sing a folksy, Celtic-sounding song. Her voice was sweet, clearly ringing in each note perfectly and dropping to that husky sexual sound for the low notes. She was quite enchanting and I found myself humming along under my breath. Every now and then I felt her look at me and we spent the time before our meal smiling at each other like a couple of high school sweethearts.

At last, the tantalizing smells became real food and I ate heartily of the meal that Clarissa had provided me. I couldn't believe how delicious everything tasted and I enjoyed her look of pleasure as I told her over and over how great a cook she was.

"Well, I did go to chef school in Tampa, but I've cooked nearly all my life. After my mother left us, Daddy taught me what he knew, which wasn't much, and the rest I just picked up over the years. I hope to open my own restaurant one day; it's my dream, and Daddy always said if anyone could do it, I could."

Her eyes glowed with passion as she talked about her love of cooking, but I was more intrigued about her father. It was obvious that she loved him a great deal and I found it hard to believe she would just leave him and travel so far away.

"Can you tell me about your father, Clarissa?" I asked gently.

Tears filled her eyes and I regretted my question. Apologies spilled from my lips as I held her hand and tried to comfort her.

"No Tom, it's alright. It's just that Daddy died last month right before my birthday and I miss him so much." She said. "He was a poor man, though he worked hard all his life. After he died, I lived in our apartment until most of the money was gone. I used what was left to buy my bus ticket and I left everything else behind with our neighbor. She said she'd try to sell what she could and mail me a check as soon as I give her an address."

Once more the courage of this young lady touched my heart. I gave her a hug, relieved when she offered me a smile in return. I rose from the table and began cleaning the kitchen against her vehement protests, but I managed to convince her to go and get dressed so I could show her a little of the city.

I was just putting the last dish in the cupboard when Clarissa joined me again. This time she wore a pretty blue sundress and we left the house to spend a quiet Saturday out on the town. To my surprise about the only things she was interested in were the old churches and their lovely stained glass windows, the parks, and the restaurants downtown. I laughed and told her we couldn't possibly eat at them all in just one day, and she giggled back at me and told me she just wanted to look at them.

When lunchtime came, I took her to a very quiet bistro that served delicious and interesting foods and enjoyed watching her devour everything on her plate. Somehow I was proud that my dining choice had impressed her and I let those feelings fill my heart as she put her arm in mine for our walk back home.

Home. I was beginning to think of it as her home too, which was silly and dangerous to my heart, but I didn't care enough to stop myself. Clarissa was a delightful woman and I found myself wishing she could stay with me and make my home into hers as well.

It was late afternoon when we arrived at the house, and we decided to watch a movie. She snuggled close and laid her head on my shoulder just as she did on the bus. Smiling inside, and turned on once more, I allowed her to cuddle deeper into me and I let her put her hand on my chest and stroke me through my t-shirt. Something inside me told me to stop it, but I was helpless and she felt so good to me that all I could do was enjoy her attention.

We dozed off, lulled to sleep by the warmth of each other, and full bellies. Some hours later, the television showed only static when I opened my eyes to a dusk darkened living room. I craned my neck and managed to get a glance at my watch. It was after nine o'clock already; we must have been exhausted. I sat still, feeling every breath Clarissa took as she slept against me.

I believe I could have stayed there forever, her soft body cradled in my arms, her face pressing into my neck, her sweet breath against my throat. But she woke up not long after I did, yawning and stretching before giving me a dazzling smile. Her eyes were sleepy, soft, and incredibly sexy, and my reaction was all too predictable as my penis once more began to swell.

Of course, Clarissa noticed and leaned in, bringing her face to a fraction of an inch before mine. She placed her hand on the back of my neck and gently tugged me forward.

"Kiss me, Tom," she breathed, licking her lips.

I couldn't stop it, and I didn't want to. I let her pull me closer, once more afraid that if I moved she would run away like a scared fox. We kissed, our lips barely touching. My head began to throb again, but it was not unpleasant. Clarissa controlled the movement and I happily, eagerly, allowed her to have her way. She snaked out her tongue and brought it forward to trace the outline of my mouth, exploring me, her eyes open and smoky. I moaned and struggled for composure, but she only gave a throaty laugh and avoided my searching mouth.

"Shh," she whispered. "Do you want me?"

I hesitated. Like a fool, I hesitated. She sensed it at once and sadly drew away, her shoulders slumping with disappointment. I could only watch in agony as she began to withdraw.

"Clarissa, no!" I cried out suddenly, "Come here, please."

Shining with new life she turned back to me, her face expectant.

"Oh, I love you darling. I love you so much." I whispered, stroking her dark hair.

"I love you too, Tom. Let's be happy, okay?"

I drew her back to me and this time took her all the way into my arms. Her face was so close, so lovely, and her lips were damp and parted. I covered them with mine and kissed her deeply. Her response was something I'd never experienced before and it took my breath away. Hungry, and so alive, she accepted my shy tongue eagerly. She sucked it inside herself and teased its length with her own. Where I was tentative, she was bold, searching for joy without restraint. I felt her adjust her breathing, her passion coming to the surface with great vigor and before I even realized it, she had unfastened my trousers and was pushing them down my hips.

Dumbly, I lifted and let her take them off of me. At last, my cock was free and she stood looking at it for a moment. Her eyes were glittering from the soft glow of the kitchen light as it filtered through the doorway; there had never been a more beautiful or sexy creature in the world and I truly adored everything about her. She lifted her dress and took it off, at last giving me a look at her body almost totally nude.