She considered it for a moment before saying "No, today would be okay. Better, even, 'cause Gail's still at school, and Mom won't be home until later, so it's just you and me."
"Okay, if you want to do it today, we can. I think it'd be easier and more comfortable if you were laying down, and I sat next to you. How about if I spread a blanket on the floor? You can use one of the pillows, here, if you want, too."
She smiled at me before answering "Yeah, that sounds good…". When she turned to select one of the throw pillows on the couch, I got up and dug out the old, soft blanket I kept handy. After I'd spread it out on the floor so she'd have a comfortable place to lay down, she dropped the pillow she'd chosen at one edge before waling out onto it, then laying down. As I stood there looking at her, I couldn't help but be delighted that I was starting to reap the results of my efforts of the past several months — I was finally going to get my hands on her delectable little body. I wasn't going to get to do anything more than that (I didn't consider the kissing I figured we'd be doing to count for anything), but it was still well ahead of where I'd started from…
Still, I took a few moments to really look at her — the blond hair, cute face, developing curves, and all the rest. As I treasured the sight of her, she looked up at me in complete confidence and trust; she knew that I wasn't going to do anything to hurt her, and had every reason in the world to think that I was going to help her.
Although I didn't want to, I remained dressed. I was ostensibly there to help Emma find out what an orgasm was like, and me getting naked with her would probably ruin things — something I sure didn't want at that point!
Maintaining my guise of calm acceptance, I sat next to her before telling her "Em, I know that this is the first time you've done anything like this, so I want to make sure you know that I'm not going to hurt you. Because I'm older, I know that there are things that I can do that will help make you excited enough to have an orgasm, and I'm going to do them — unless you decide that you don't like them. If you do, TELL ME, and I'll stop, okay?"
Interested, but not afraid, she asked "What things?"
Smiling, I told her "Things like kissing, and touching you different ways and on different places.
Kissing your boobs. Stuff that really hurts a lot.", teasing.
Page 13 of 68
A Good Neighbor — Copyright © 2009 — Dorsai
http://www.asstr.org/~Dorsai
She grinned at my description, knowing that I wouldn't hurt her, before nodding her head in understanding.
"Now, if I start to do something you're not sure about, I'm going to ask that you at least give it a try before you decide you don't like it. Like I said, I'll stop if you want me to — just what I'm doing then, or completely, if that's what you want, any time you say. But like I said, some of those things are stuff that I think you'll like if you give them a chance, too. You've never had an orgasm before, so we are going to help you have one by finding out if there's something new or different that will help, okay?"
"I understand, Gary. I won't tell you to stop unless I'm really sure."
Next, I told her "Emma, there's something that I want you to know."
As she looked up at me in curiosity, I continued "There are probably girls at school that you hear people talking about." She nodded, and I went on "To those girls, the things they do with boys…
it just doesn't mean anything to them. Oh, it probably feels good, but they don't think of it as anything special. So because it isn't anything special to them, they aren't very careful about what guys they're with — and because what they do isn't special to the girl, then the girls isn't special to the guys. So because the girl isn't special to them, the guys tell each other about what happened, and it isn't long before everybody is hearing about it. What I want you to know is that I think you're special, and that it really means a lot to me that you trust me to do this with you.
What I feel about you is more than just liking you; you could even say that I love you. Not like your mom and dad do, or that I want us to be married or anything like that — but what I feel is still love. I hope you understand that I'm willing to stuff like this with you because of that love, and that you'll be careful and picky about any guy that you're with. I love you too much, and think you're too special, and I care about you and want you to be happy."
"But I do think this is special, Gary, and I… I love you, too, like you said — caring about you, and wanting you to be happy, too. If you weren't already somebody special to me, I never would have asked you to help me like this, or even started talking to you about all that other stuff. I loved you, and knew that you loved me, and that's why we're like this, now. But it was still nice to hear you say it."
After giving her a smile in answer, I got myself stretched out next to her, and propped up on my elbow. I could see that she was a trifle nervous, so the first thing I did was to reach out so I could softly cup her face in my hand — something that I could see surprised her a little bit. Lowering my head, I briefly touched my lips to hers as softly and chastely as I could. When I pulled back, I could see in her eyes how much that small, simple gesture meant to her. When I kissed her again, it was just as tender and innocent, but lasted longer when she started kissing me back.
She was a little hesitant at first; it took a couple of times before I realized that at her age, she was likely nervous about getting it "right". After a few more kisses (and my non-verbal encouragement) she seemed to realize that there wasn't really any way to get it wrong, and was soon returning my kisses easily and comfortably.
When we'd reached that point, I gently caressed her face for a little bit before slowly drawing my hand down her throat, then between her breasts, and finally coming to a halt with my hand splayed just below her navel. She looked into my eyes and smiled up at me as I did, my fingertips making only grazing contact with the smooth surface of her skin. When we started kissing again, I slowly curled my fingers several times so that my fingertips drew little lines on her soft flesh before finally beginning to move my hand. I kept my touch to the area bounded by her sternum and a couple of inches above her mons, and her sides — at least, at first. When she didn't exhibit any anxiety or nervousness, I gradually expanded my touch to include her hips and waist, then the outsides and tops of her thighs.
She continued returning my kisses with enthusiasm, and even began using her hand to touch and caress my body; with that to let me know she was still comfortable with what I was doing, I began easing my touch closer and closer to the mounds of her developing mammaries at the top, and more and more toward the insides of her thighs at the bottom of my reach.
My caresses had reached perhaps halfway between the top and insides of her thighs when she surprised me by spreading her legs so that I could reach their inner surfaces. With that to encourage me, I finally made contact with one of her breasts after softly drawing my hand up her young woman's body. That first touch was simply to cup my hand over the warm mass of her breast. I felt her press it into my hand, and didn't hesitate to investigate it further. Slightly firmer than a fresh marshmallow, it barely filled my cupped hand; it was warm and smooth, and I could feel the small pebble of her nipple pressing into the palm of my hand. As I tenderly squeezed and mapped its surface with my fingertips, Emma's kisses slowly began to reveal the arousal and desire that she was starting to feel.