The day was far from usual for various reasons. The weather, for one, was sunny and warm and looked like staying that way. Another was that I was walking rather than driving, an event that doesn't happen anywhere near often enough. The best reason was that I'd just signed a deal that had earned me more than all of last year's deals combined.

Why was I walking? The weather was part of the reason but it was mainly because Steve Maclaine, the man whose great decision it was to offer me the contract was a well-known 'Greenie'. He hated cars and all the pollution they kicked out and when I casually mentioned that I'd walked to our first meeting his eyes brightened and that little edge might have been the bit that swung the deal my way. I had also of course put in a powerful bid but every little helps,

I was, therefore, feeling quite smug as I approached the local school, whistling tunelessly one of those, irritating ditties that you can't get out of your head.

'Aren't you speaking then?'

I turned to look at who had spoken. I could only see a couple of schoolgirls close enough. They were standing looking at me, one frowning, the other smiling brightly. There was no instant recognition on my part, but the smiling girl had a vaguely familiar look about her. She stood; her smile still radiant, framed by her sun bleached blonde hair, waiting for my old brain cells to start working. Then click!

'Emma?' I asked tentatively.

'Who else?' She replied confirming my suspicions.

I looked over this young woman, who I now knew to be all of thirteen and liked what I saw. She was going to be a stunner when she grew up and very nearly had done that already. Of course I'd guessed as much when I used to go out with her mother five years previously. Had I not known her true age I would have thought her to be about sixteen with her already large breasts and well-developed figure. Some poor lad, correction, make that lads, were going to be in serious trouble around 'My little Em', which even after five years I instinctively thought of her as.

'Well you've certainly grown young lady, and made a bloody good job of it too.' I told her before adding, 'as I told you you would.'

Her smile, which even as a youngster was a killer, broadened.

'Do you think so?' she asked fishing for compliments as ever.

I shook my head. 'No! I don't think so, I know so.'

I held my arms out as I always used to and as before she jumped into them for her cuddle. Immediately I regreted my automatic response as my body told me that this was a woman's body in my arms not the child's one I'd last hugged half a decade ago. I still towered above her so I kissed her head and pushed her away.

'So how are you then Em? And your mum?' I enquired.

'We're fine.' Emma responded, seemingly unaware that I had pushed her away so quickly. 'Mum's still with Phil and I suppose I'm used to him now.'

Phil, I knew was the man who'd taken my place with Tracey, Emma's mum, when we'd finished. We'd both agreed that our year together had been good, but that extra special spark had never been there and so we'd parted good friends, always with the intention of still seeing each other platonically. Phil had been hovering in the wings, and had, in fact, been the catalyst in our break-up; but apparently had a bit of a jealous streak so stopped Tracey seeing me. She'd told me that she'd reluctantly agreed, hoping to give their new relationship every chance to bloom. Emma, I learnt did not take to Phil, mainly I think (conceitedly perhaps) because he was taking my place rather than anything inherently wrong with Phil.

For the next few minutes Emma was a whirlwind of questions and anecdotes.

I noticed her friend fidgeting, clearly bored with the proceedings, so I asked Emma to introduce us, simply to bring the other youngster into the conversation.

'Oh! Sorry Wolff. This is Emma too.' She said.

'Emma TWO?' I asked. 'Does that make you Emma ONE?' I deliberately misunderstood her.

'No silly.' She said with a giggle that betrayed her true age. 'I mean her name is Emma as well.'

The other Emma, knew immediately that my question was baited, looked at me and shook her head as if embarrassed by her friend being taken in by my words. My Emma then saw the look on her friend and finally cottoned on.

'Oh you! You haven't changed if I have.' She laughed and once again ran into my arms. 'I've missed you, you know.' She added seriously. Suddenly this was 'My little Em' back in my arms and the thought of her grown up body vanished, I just hugged her.

'What's this?' I heard a still familiar voice enquire.

I turned to see Tracey standing by her car. As she recognised me her puzzled look evaporated.

'Wolff! I might have known. She doesn't usually hug strange men. How are you?'

We then spent a good ten minutes just renewing old memories. One of the reasons we had not split earlier was because we did really get on as friends and could, and often did, talk about anything and everything, then anybody and everybody after that.

A couple of times I heard giggles and looked around to see the two Emmas locked in conspiratal conversation.

Eventually, when a natural pause in our reminiscing occurred, Emma asked her mother if they could go as she had homework to do. Tracey and I looked at her, then at each other before both saying simultaneously. 'I bet!'

We all, including Emma Two, burst out laughing, but agreed that we should part, promising to, this time, keep in touch.

I waved them away with Emma Two, as I had started to think of her, at my side.

'You still waiting for your lift?' I asked politely.

A nasty laugh was the initial response, followed by an explanation. 'You must be joking. My parents don't give a damn whether I even go to school. I'm sure they'd both prefer it if I wasn't around at all.'

'You walk then?' I asked, stating the obvious to try and change the story. 'Which way?'

She told me where she lived, which turned out to be about half a mile past my own house. I mentioned this and we both started walking together. Emma was in no mood to give up on what I recognised as a pet gripe.

'I mean, if they cared, then they might try to be home occasionally when I'm there.'

I wondered if her parents were as bad as she made out, or did they just need to work long hours to meet the bills. The latter was by no means unusual in this area of traditionally low paid work. It turned out to be a bit of both. Her mother worked hard to keep the family fed; in fact had two jobs, the second as cleaner started before school finished and didn't finish until gone nine o'clock each night. Her father worked behind a bar every evening managing to drink more than most of his customers. He was not a nasty drunk but was a thoughtless one. Her mother was very protective of him. Emma, then, was one of the latchkey kids I'd read about so often, those thought by many to be the next generation of criminals. From what Emma told me, I didn't think that this was true in her case, but who knew what the future held.

Trying to cheer her up a little (me too!) I asked what the two girls had been giggling about whilst Tracey and me had been talking. Emma went all shy and I saw her face redden. She was obviously too embarrassed to say anything and after a long stare I was about to give that up as a topic when she answered.

'You!'

'Me?' I asked, although thinking back it was not surprising as they'd both whisper then look at me before a giggle then another whisper.

'What about me?' I pushed.

The answer was along time coming but when it did it knocked the wind out of me.

'Emma was telling me that when you used to stay at her house.' She began nervously. 'That she would sneak into your bed.'

I recalled that too. Tracey and me always had the bed to ourselves when we went to sleep but Emma was nearly always there when we woke up. I smiled at the recollection, it had seemed like family bliss at the time and I suppose it had lost little of its appeal over the years. I was about to ask why this brought about any giggling when Emma continued.

'She says she used to look at your... willy.' I could hear embarrassment in her voice and as I looked at her, once more she blushed.

I could now see what caused the giggles and laughed in turn.

'Such a small thing to set you girls giggling.' I said with tongue in cheek.

'Emma said it was quite big... ' Emma started before realising my deliberate double entendre. She then tried to dig herself out of the hole, something that wise people never do. 'Oh! Is it big then?'

I laughed again. 'It depends who is measuring it I suppose and what you class as big.' I knew that I was only just above average, but I suppose to an eight-year-old my earlier morning erection was big, although I found it interesting that Emma not only remembered it but well enough to talk to her friend about it.

Emma Two looked straight ahead and we walked in silence for a while when she stepped in front of me and then turned to face me. I had no choice but to stop as well.

'What if I measured it?' she asked, very seriously.

That was a question my light-hearted banter had not expected. I had no problem talking about adult things to kids but this was now a bit too personal. Against my better judgement I found that I was assessing this Emma as I had the other earlier.

She was not as well endowed as the other girl; she was shorter, probably just over five feet tall and quite slender. Her most noticeable feature was her long mane of red hair. It was obviously her natural colour although she did not have the heavily freckled pale face that often accompanied this hue. She was carrying her school jacket so I could see that although she had breasts they appeared quite small. Her legs seemed to be the only fully developed part as they were very shapely indeed. She was not what I usually sought in a woman although there was certainly nothing objectionable about her.

Aware of my appraisal she asked directly. 'Like what you see?'

I answered honestly. 'Yes I do. In a few years you will be quite something.' I hoped my praise would boost her ego somewhat and get her mind away from my private parts.

I saw dejection appear immediately. 'In a few years!' she repeated angrily, 'what about now? I saw the way you looked at Em. I bet you didn't think "in a few years' about her. Did you?' she looked at me demanding I answer.

Feeling guilty about my initial thoughts when I saw her I decided to lie. 'I looked at Emma because she has grown. Don't forget she was only eight last time I saw her. I think of her as a daughter almost and nothing else.'

Again a bout of silence followed, in fact she still hadn't spoken by the time we reached my house.

'Well!' I said to her, 'this is where I live.'

Emma still looked sullen and I was beginning to feel glad that I was home; I had had enough of being embarrassed and teenage moods. I did feel sorry for her as I had vague recollection of her father, who, in my opinion, was a complete arsehole. I was therefore quite unprepared for her next question.

'Can I come in?'

The look I gave her obviously carried the question that was in my mind.

'I've nowt else to do. No one in at home and no friends about.' Then when I hesitated, she decided to answer for me. 'Doesn't matter! No reason why you should be any different.'

Before I could rationalise my motives and totally opposed to my thoughts a moment before I capitulated and invited her in.

As soon as I was through the door I was hit by forty pounds of canine excitement. My hands were automatically positioned to guard my precious manhood, that being the exact height of my dog's nose. I pushed her further into the hall and had just about calmed her down when she spotted Emma. Judy is a very affectionate animal but also quite boisterous and can often scare strangers. Where Emma was concerned I need not have worried though. She immediately stooped and was giving Judy the love and fuss she craves. As I smiled I noticed that Emma's expression and demeanour had changed dramatically, gone was the morose teenager and in her place a grinning, happy young girl. I suddenly had a real insight to this youngster, when she was given love and attention, even from a pet, she blossomed.

I also noticed that her school skirt had risen halfway up her thighs and was displaying her cute legs to perfection. I was also annoyed with myself for looking down her white blouse as she leaned forward. I couldn't see much other than the top of a lacy white bra, but I still was ogling this schoolgirl. I even felt a stirring in my trousers so decided to retreat to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

A minute or two later and Emma followed me in.

'She's gorgeous.' She said of her new friend. 'What's her name?'

'Judy.' I answered, 'and yes she is gorgeous and doesn't she just know it.' I added proudly. 'She also needs to go outside.' I said as I let my black and white collie out into the secure yard at the back. I turned my attention back to my young guest.

Emma then became the typical woman; by that I mean continuing a conversation of a while ago but doing so as if no time had elapsed at all and expecting us poor men to know exactly what they are talking about and remembering where we were in the conversation.

'Can I measure it then or at least see it?'

At first I was puzzled, assuming she was talking about something to do with Judy. It was only a few seconds before my mind recalled our earlier talk, but it was a few too many for Emma as she added, almost pleading.

'Please! I'm thirteen and I've never even seen a man's willy before. Everyone else at school has and I have to pretend that I have.'

The last bit made me smile as I thought that she was probably in the majority in not having seen a man's cock but not being prepared to admit it, that thought though was quickly replaced by how I should answer her. I swiftly decided that I should talk to her as I would an adult.