Chapter 1: Deanna Plays

Deanna had been teasing me for weeks apparently not knowing what it was she was doing to me. I would find out that she knew exactly what she was doing. It was all part of her "diabolical" plan.

She would chuckle at the lump in my pants that she had created with her skimpy dress and brush her hand up against it every chance she got.

Hey, I'm human and she is a beautiful young lady.

She would look up at me with her "puppy dog eyes" sparkling like diamonds and give me a smile, big, wide and innocent, as her hand would gently cop a feel thinking I would think it was just an accident.

Once or twice, ok, accident. Two or three times before you leave for school everyday, don't think so. There were times she was so blatant and obvious that she apologized for the bump, but that smirk on her face told me it had a purpose in her mind.

She has been staying with me while her mom was in Asia doing some work and she'd be gone for the better part of a year, so this was going to be a long-term situation.

I wasn't sure how I was going to handle a year or more of this teasing, but then I might just succumb. There were already some things that had happened and had been said as "mom" was leaving that leave me wondering what the whole thing is all about. I had a sense of being set up, but what the hell, she's a certifiable knock out so what will be will be.

With all the options that should have been available, why would one of my old bedtime buddies leave her 15-year-old daughter with me for a year? Don't mind me, I just thought it rather strange, but I wasn't going to argue with Tara; I felt like I owed her big time. She always said that I didn't, but she did pick me up, more than once, when I was down. Dee is beautiful and so is her mother. I'll have to talk about Tara a bit later, but first to Deanna.

At 15, nearly 16, Deanna was about 5'3" tall, fairly slender but certainly not skinny. Her hips were rounding nicely and you could definitely see the woman in her coming out slowly. While her hips were rounding nicely so was her scrumptious bubble butt. Her body was filling out with a gorgeous pair of B-cup breasts. Girls sure didn't look like that when I was 15.

Well maybe they did, and I just didn't notice. How the hell would I miss that? At 15 I knew what the ladies were hiding in those panties, because I'd already been in a few pairs.

I hoped that those breasts would stop growing right where they are. In my mind, they couldn't be more perfect just the way they are. They were a sultry handful each, pert, firm and proud.

Her light brown hair, when down would reach midway down her back but was always pulled back, sometimes in pig tails, some times in a pony tail, and those gorgeous light powder blue eyes could penetrate even the best hard-ass look you could give her. I gave up on that early in this whole experience. The "look" didn't work.

A big problem I seem to have with Dee is that she could be her mother's twin sister, about 14 years older than she really is. All the neighborhood boys are drooling profusely all over themselves and undoubtedly creaming their jeans over her.

She just politely declines any advances, telling them she has a boyfriend and wasn't going to be playing around on him and then just to be typical would sometimes add, "especially with you". Somehow I got the feeling that she likes to turn the knife.

Boyfriend? That was news to me. Tara didn't mention anything about a boyfriend. Shit, That's all I need with all the other bullshit.

I just hoped it was her way of getting rid of the roamin' hands. I think every guy around tried to put their hands on those luscious tits she was sprouting. She was very adept at avoiding stray feelie attempts and could throw you on the ground with her eyes if she meant to.

As I said, there were some things said at the airport that kind of had me wondering just what it is that was going on. After a couple more weeks of the provocative clothes she'd put on after school, the constant sideways looks and "accidental" feels, I decided to see if I could find out what was on her mind.

One Friday evening I told her to get cleaned up and dress up really nice so I could take her out to a nice dinner. We'll run this up the flagpole and see if there's a breeze blowing and in which direction.

She gave me a surprised look, but those eyes started to sparkle as she disappeared up the stairs into her room and shower. I called one of the local "high class" restaurants that I knew of, made reservations for 7:30, and set about getting myself ready. I wasn't quite sure how to interpret that look she gave me, but I guess I'd find out.

I put on a nice pair of slacks, dress shirt, tie and a sport coat that were almost a suit. I figured a suit would be a little much, but when I saw Dee come down the stairs I suddenly felt grossly under dressed. I should have been in a tuxedo!

She had put on a beautiful royale blue formal gown that was low cut in front exhibiting her beautiful breasts appropriately, well maybe not for a 15 year old but she certainly didn't look 15. It plunged all the way down to her butt in the back. It was obvious she was not wearing a bra, as it wouldn't go with the dresses spaghetti straps. For the most part she didn't need a bra most of the time anyway, at least not from my perspective.

I was about blow my cookies just watching her walk down the stairs. She slowly stepped down and stepped in front of me doing a quick spin so that I could catch the whole Deanna.

Holy shit. I'd never seen anything quite so beautiful in my life, that dress enhanced her natural beauty perfectly, and with the light powder blue eyes, the deep royale blue of the dress was dazzling.

Her hair was shining and loose for a change instead of tied up, and she had a smile on her face that would melt diamond.

"Oh my god Dee, You are absolutely stunning. I'm going to be the envy of the club tonight," I whispered. Now whom the fuck was drooling?

With another incredible smile, she said softly, "I'm glad you like it Tommy. It is all for you! I'd never dress like this for anyone else, because you always make me feel so special. I want you to be proud of me."

"Oh Dee. Proud isn't the word. I'm honored to have you as my date this evening. You ready to go?"

"Yep, Let's go. I'm famished."

It was nearly impossible to keep my eyes off of her as we drove the 10 minutes to the club restaurant, and as we drove I saw her looking over at me out of the corner of her eye. I was sprouting a boner already and it certainly didn't escape her notice. She squirmed a little but firmly put her hand on my thigh and began a slow gentle caress.

This was going to be a long night!

Little did I know?

When we arrived at the club and got the car parked, with a sensuous smile her sparkling eyes met mine, and I couldn't help but marvel at the depth of her look. It felt like she could see right through me.

After unhooking her seatbelt, she leaned across to me and put her lips to mine very softly kissing me. It wasn't one of those "little girl" kisses, but one of the most sensual, sexy kisses I'd ever had. But what startled me was when she put her hand directly on my stiffy and rubbed it gently for a moment while she finished her kiss.

Those beautiful eyes sparkled and danced furiously. With a sly smile, she whispered to me, "Is this for me Tommy?"

After the shock and awe of the activity, "It's yours if you want it my love. It's yours if you want it," I whispered back to her as I leaned my head towards hers and kissed her ever so gently.

She squeezed my boner lightly and gave me a mysterious glance that looked half lust and half apprehension.

I'd called her bluff and I think she was not only a bit surprised, but didn't quite know how to deal with it. But the die had been cast so we'd see what was in the mold later. She was a walking wet dream; I certainly couldn't escape that reality.

She had a real offer on the table and she was pleased, but she'd realistically never expected it. Not from "the old guy" who'd been trying to ignore her for the past couple months. Well yeah! Not ignoring what she was doing could lead to some severe trouble, but I think the ignoring is over. Time will tell.

We got out of the car and walked hand in hand slowly toward the door. She kept looking at me with those beautiful eyes and every time I'd meet hers with mine, she'd blush a little, smile shyly, and look away. I wondered what was going on inside that beautiful little head.

I looked at her again all dressed up and knew that she was going to be able to pass for "legal age" in the club which is kind of scary when you consider she is only 15. Yeah, she's almost 16, but still only 15.

The maitre d' smiled as we entered and she took his arm like she does it every night while he led us to our table. I had requested a small booth in the rear of the club in a more private area.

As we sat down, he looked at her and asked, "A drink for M'lady?"

Deanna turned to me with an almost panicked look, not really knowing what to say, so I told him that we'd start with a couple of Cuba Libre's please.

Without batting an eye he turned and moved off to let our table service know the drink order, and also to let them know that we were "VIP's" and to provide extra special service. As if they needed to be reminded.

Deanna looked at me with wide eyes and asked, "What's a Cuba Libre?"

I focused my gaze on her and sighed slightly. "It's just a fancy name for a Rum and Coke angel. I think you'll like it, but don't drink it too quickly – you're not used to alcohol, and I don't want you getting drunk."

She smiled at me sweetly and cuddled up next to me closer and held my arm in her hands, and let out a heavy sigh.

We talked a bit waiting for the waitress to come with our drinks, menu and bread.

"Tommy. I've never been in a place this fancy, I'm afraid I'm going to do something stupid and embarrass you."

I looked at her in surprise, "Don't worry about it sweetheart, you'll do just fine. Just act like the lady I know you are and everything will be perfect. I want you to enjoy the evening out, but I can't wait to get you home later."

I got an excited look of trepidation from her. We hadn't really talked about "later" so I left it to her mind to calculate. There was going to be no pressure and there was no hurry, so whatever she decided was ok with me, but I was definitely calling the bluff she's been pushing for the past few months.

I was keeping in mind what her mother had said at the airport when she left. If it was intimacy that she wanted, intimacy is what she's going to have, but it'll be slow, passionate and tender. It's hard for me to fathom my feelings for Dee. Shit. She's only 15, yeah, almost 16, but acts like she's much older. That's a testament to the way Tara has raised her, but she's 15 nonetheless. Before Tara left her with me, if you'd have said I'd be lusting after a 15 year old I'd have said you were bug assed crazy. But here it is.

I just have this funny feeling that there's something here that I've missed. Something between Dee and Tara that I've never been privy to. I guess I'll find out sooner or later because I'm completely lost. She's got me wrapped, hook, line and sinker. My biggest problem is that she knows it!

As if it were planned, with perfect timing, the waitress showed up with our drinks, a basket of bread and the menus. She went through her list of the specials for this evening and said she'd be back in a few minutes to take our orders.

Deanna nervously leaned in to me and kissed me gently, but this time I felt her tongue touch my lips and immediately opened mine so she could play. As her tongue entered my mouth, mine found it and we played tag for a short time. I felt her breathing become a bit more rapid as she let out a small moan. She was "probing". Let's see how far the "old guy" will go in public. She just didn't understand that she didn't look her age and that anyone observing would just think that the old guy was fuckin'-a lucky, which he is.

This was going to be a most interesting evening; I could feel it in my bones. No not that one! Well ... Maybe that one too.

She clung to me like a magnet all evening, as we had our meal, which was absolutely excellent as usual at the club. We both had sautéed fresh ocean scallops with asparagus tips, baked potato with all the fixin's and a glass of wine each.

As we finished up with our meals and kind of kicked back to let things start to digest, I asked Dee if she wanted to go next door, listen to some music and perhaps dance.

Getting an excited look and a positive response, she looked at me questioningly, "How are you going to get me in a bar Tommy? I'm not old enough and I don't have fake ID."

I smiled at her, "You let me worry about that sweets. Nobody can tell your true age, and the staff here wouldn't think I'd bring someone so young to the club."

We stood up and slowly made our way to the other side of the club where the bar and dance hall is located.

The bouncer at the door gave Dee a close look trying to figure out whether or not to ask for ID. I'm sure he also noticed a couple other attributes that would not betray her true age. Especially in that dress, but seeing that she was with me let her pass without a second glance. Well, except to watch her walk away as we proceeded through the door.

I was pretty sure there wouldn't be a problem at the door.

I guess I should admit here that I am one of the founding members of the club, which as it turns out, had become the most exclusive in town. Having been on the board of directors since day one, everyone here knows me but discretely and professionally keeps that familiarity to themselves. They also know that I tend to tip very well!

At present I'm the president of the board and have been for 8 years. It's something I enjoy a lot, though at times it can be quite a challenge. I'm a pretty progressive thinker and have what I consider to be good ideas on improving our offerings, but there are some curmudgeons on the board that try to rain on the parade at every turn. Thus far they haven't prevailed on any issue they've presented, so you'd think they'd just give up.

I suppose we could just vote them off of the board, but their inputs tend to keep the rest of us on an even keel. They just don't see the value added in progress or at least what the rest of us consider progress. They're the old stuffed shirts that will sit in the corner smoking cigars and make snide comments about anything and everything they see come in the door.

The staff knows me and is very familiar with my attitude towards things that make their world happen so they tend to take very good care of me. By the same token, they try to move the old geezers out as quickly as possible because they always try to make a scene alluding to their importance so they can stroke themselves. Being on the board of such an exclusive establishment is like the proverbial notch on the gun handle. They are of the opinion that the world owes them a life because they have a few dollars in the bank, and they're used to having their asses kissed and their boots licked.

I take it upon myself to ensure that when their asses are kissed there are teeth involved, and their boots are very scuffed before they reach the door. They try to make trouble at the board meetings, but I've got about 85% of the rest of the members "with me" so they rarely make any dent in the overall makeup of the board, and though they do rain on the parades we try to run, they do act as the conscience and temper our enthusiasm. It seems like a necessary evil.

I think every eye in the place was on us as we found our way into a darkish corner booth the house kept "reserved" for just such a guest. I could see a bunch of the fellows wince as their dates gave them elbows in the ribs for lustfully staring. I'm also guessing that there was a significant bit of blood migrating southward in more than a few of them as well. The little guy was trying to take control, but "mama" was there to keep 'em honest.

Why is it that women always seem to be in competition with each other, and if a guy looks at a pretty girl it somehow means the lady he's with has been moved down a notch. Not true ladies. Just as you admire a tight buff body walking by, so do we. We know who we're with, and we intend to go home with you! If you looked like that, you probably wouldn't be with me. Deal with it.

Deanna is an eyeful, I wouldn't argue with that for an instant. Definitely sweet eye candy and as I said before, an absolute walking wet dream. And for Christ sake, she's fifteen!

As we sat down, the bar girl came over to get our drink orders. "Hi Tommy. The usual?"

"You know it Carol, thanks," I answered immediately.

She would have normally taken Dee's order first, but she was being friendly with a regular, so as she looked at Deanna she apologized, and asked her what she was going to have.

"It's no problem. I know Tommy's here a lot. I'd like a Cuba Libre', please" she said with all the confidence of her looks rather than her true age.