Chapter 4: Wherein I Keep the Pot Simmering

Perhaps I'm going to hell. Who knows? Heck, with my luck there will be an entire level just for me, right next to people who talk at the theater (Pat yourself on the back if you get the reference). I knew what I was doing was wrong. I was manipulating a young girl who didn't know any better. Everything in my upbringing told me I should be ashamed of myself. But I wasn't. Not by a long shot. Nicole wasn't the only one who had jumped onto a moving train. I probably could have put the brakes on events, stop it before any real line was crossed. But I didn't want to. I was hoping virginal pussy was in my future, and I was doing everything in my power to make it happen.

After Nicole's little peep show, I held back for a week or so. I was still updating my journal, I didn't want to lose the progress I had made. But I also knew Nicole had taken a big step, and was very close to her limit. Honestly, I'm still amazed 20 years later that I was able to get her that far as quickly as I did. But I needed to keep the pot simmering, to borrow a phrase. I knew that if I asked for another show, or if I tried to advance her along, I stood a good chance of her pulling back. I'm not sure when, but somehow I had developed an innate sense of how far I could push her.

So I left well enough alone. In my journal entries I flattered the hell out of her. I figured she was probably regretting her boldness, and I needed to repaint her memory of the event with what I wanted her to remember. Say something enough times, and it will eventually become the truth. So I went into great detail of how much I enjoyed the show and how I was surprised by how much Nicole had matured in mind and body. On and on I went in an effort to overwrite any other feeling she might have had about letting me see her breasts. In short, were you to read my entries, you would have though the sun rose and set under her shirt.

Eventually, after about ten day of feeding her a steady diet of how wonderful the experience was for both of us, I felt the time was right to prod Nicole along. Any more praise and Nicole might have taken it upon herself to see if someone her own age could appreciate her like I was, since she was so great. That was most certainly not something I wanted. Steps would have to be taken to ensure that little hairless clam between her thighs remained fresh until I was able to convince her to offer it up to me. Those thoughts rushed through my head as I wrote my next entry.

I had a dream last night about Nicole again. Small wonder, as the glorious view I was able to sneak is burned into my brain. I still can't believe I was able to see that! I count myself insanely lucky and can now die a happy man.

But, about the dream, I was at the theater, working at the box office, and every ticket was soft. Soft and warm. In my dream I knew I should rip the tickets ... but I just couldn't. They felt so nice, like the best thing I had ever felt. So I would pocket the tickets and give the customer an old one. Eventually I noticed that every ticket I was taking ... and this sounds crazy, but every ticket that felt good had Nicole's name on it! I would just reach into my pocket and play with them, and it was ... well ... I was getting VERY happy.

When I took the tickets out ... they kinda merged together to form a boob. And not just any boob ... HER boob.

I just remember I kept caressing it, playing with it, stroking it, cupping it. In my dream the ticket-boob even had a hard nipple! It was crazy. I was going to lean in and suck on it, but I woke up before I could.

It's insane, I know. Who the hell dreams of a boob made out of theater tickets?? I think I need to spend less time at the theater. That, and I REALLY need to get a girlfriend.

But who am I kidding? I know who I wish I could go with, I've been dreaming about her for the past month or so. But she's too damn young! But still ... what I wouldn't give to feel her ... yeah ... feel her in real life like I felt her in the dream. I bet she's better than the dream. But, once again, she's too young. I can't approach her. But, oh how I wish I could compare real life to dream.

-D