J. Wellington Thorpe

The Gardener's Daughter

I.

I decided to change gardeners. The man who had been doing my small property didn't want to do it my way, no matter what I told him. A couple of weeks had gone buy since his final visit and the grass was scraggly and the bushes going wild. And the weeds! Oh, the damn weeds!

Like most people who work the hours I do and who have no lawn care equipment, I needed help. A man and his family did a yard about six houses west of me and their yard always looked great. I caught him driving away from that job one day and asked him if he could possibly do my yards. Almost immediately that I approached his truck I had misgivings. He spoke limited English and was sharing a very crowded little half-ton Toyota truck with his wife, three kids and a baby of about two years. But he said he could do the yards right then, and I was a tad desperate. He walked around the property with me while I gave him an idea of what I wished. He said $40 and I agreed. His wife and oldest daughter got out of the truck, followed by a slightly younger sister, a younger boy and the two-year-old. They hit my place like a herd of ants. In about 40 minutes everything was done perfectly and the place had never looked so good! I gratefully paid him $50 instead and asked if he could possibly take care of the property on a weekly basis.

Over the next few months I paid more attention to Gilberto and his family. Gilberto and I talked some and I got to where I could more easily understand him, and I found that the daughters and son spoke English well and could translate anything Gilberto and I had difficulty with. This interaction caused me to more carefully notice the daughters, who were 14 and 11. Yurenka, the oldest, was a very nice looking early teen, as was her younger brother. Milla, the young one, was plainer looking, but was coming along. They lived about fifteen blocks south of me. Each week when they arrived to do the yards there was a little ritual performed: Gilberto got the heavier equipment out of the truck while the son got the lighter stuff out. Mrs. Gilberto took the clippers and started on the bushes. The baby ran errands and played in the grass. Gilberto began edging. And Yurenka opened the gate to the back yard to get the “green stuff” plastic barrel to take out front. Yet, she always looked in the blue recycle barrel on her way to the green one. Only the gray trash barrel was ignored, usually. Every now and again I put some old appliance or magazines in the blue one and she culled through them. One day I had put a couple of old Hustler magazines out there, mixed with the previous Sunday's paper and junk mail. I know she took one because I passed the window by the washer/dryer just as she lowered the blue lid and I immediately remembered the magazines in there. As soon as she went out front with the green barrel I went to retrieve them from harms way and one was missing. Probably on that day, at that time, the germ of an idea began percolating in my head.

My twisted passion plan, as it were…

II.

Let's jump forward, one year later.

I was sitting in front of my MacPro, browsing through some of the many offerings of the Persian Kitty web site, and the passion plan drifted back into my perverted noggin. As a somewhat older teen of fifteen, in a tightly controlled family, Yurenka probably would have a natural interest in her own sexuality with limited resources for inquiry. Where my involvement might lead was neither clear to me nor was I willing, at that specific time, to explore my long term motives and objectives. Using a graphics package by Adobe, I created a page of reduced pictures selected from various web sites. All of the pictures were in color and I managed to get seven of them on one page in readily viewable form.

They were: 1) a teenage girl holding an older man's erect cock while looking up at him with passion on her face; (2) a young woman masturbating with one hand and holding her left breast with the other, eyes closed in content concentration; 3) a “69” scene with the man clearly having his tongue inside his partner's vagina while she was clearly sucking his cock; 4) a teen masturbating while she's looking at a “nudie” magazine that we can clearly see; 5) a very young woman lying on her side, legs spread, with a large male cock clearly entering her pussy which she is holding open; 6) a picture of a woman with her tongue well into the upturned pussy of another woman; and, 7) a young girl happily sitting on the cock of the guy under her, while she is holding it inside her.

The color was okay. The distinctness of the pictures was sufficient as to leave no doubt about what each picture communicated.

The plan was to sort of crumble up the picture, making sure that an easily identifiable section was clearly visible and then place it strategically in the blue recycle can on Saturday when they came to do the lawns. A last minute addition to the plan was for me to set up my camera on the dryer, looking out of the window at the blue can, pre-focused, to record her holding the paper in her hand.

It was two more weeks before I was even home on a Saturday to try my plan. Of course, she wasn't the first one to the back yard that day, her brother was, and he opened the blue lid and I charged out of the back door to interrupt him. Which I did. I kept watch all the while they were here that day but Yurenka never opened the blue barrel. Then I was gone for the next three Saturdays. It took eleven weeks and five tries before Yurenka opened the blue lid, looked in the barrel, saw the “crumpled” pictures, and pulled the paper out to look at it closer.

I was so excited I was shaking. I got ready to push the cable release on the camera as she looked toward the front to see if anyone was watching her, and smoothed out the paper.

Yurenka looked at the paper for quite a while. Then she folded it up and put it in her jeans back pocket.

For the next two weeks she rushed to the back and looked in the barrel. On the third Saturday following her initial discovery there was a piece of paper there that said, Want to see more? If so, put this note in the gray trashcan, otherwise leave it in the blue can . That startled her and she looked toward the house, but I knew she couldn't see in through the reflection across the window. She put the paper back in the blue barrel and went about her work. At first I was disappointed. But about twenty minutes later she came back to the blue barrel. She opened it, took out the note and put it in the gray barrel. My bluff had been called.

Now I had to figure out what to do next.

III.

The following week I was sitting on the back porch when she opened the gate and went to the blue barrel. I greeted her, startling her, and she greeted me back. I asked her what she would like to see. When she feigned ignorance at first, gave in, and said that she would like to see more pictures.

“What kind?” I asked. “Yurenka, sex is millions of years old for humans and hundreds of millions of years old for animals. There is nothing new, except to young people like you. Sex is great, necessary, fun and part of life for everyone. Now would you like to see pictures of masturbation, intercourse, cunnilingus, fellatio, what?”

She just stared at me, then at the ground.

I said, “I'll tell you what. Next week you bring back the pictures you have and circle the ones you want to see more of. Put it in the gray trashcan. I'll get it and give you more pictures of those types.”

She said, quietly, “I have it with me.”

I took a pen out of my shirt pocket, laid it on the porch near where she was standing, and said, “If you decide you want to talk to someone about sex, Yurenka, and you can't talk to your parents, you can talk to me. Kids your age have the weirdest ideas about sex and they usually think that adults don't know much about sex. We all do. We were teens once, too. We had questions and wrong ideas. The lucky ones had someone they could talk to and trust. The unlucky ones got half of the story, half of that story was wrong, and they are still trying to figure out what went wrong with their lives. Of course, none of them will admit that. And that is the ultimate stupidity. Not knowing about their own sex, or the opposite sex, or about making love. So if you want to talk to someone, I promise you I will never lie to you.”

I turned and went into the house.

When they left, the paper was in the gray barrel. There were four circles. One around each of the masturbation pictures. One around the teen holding the older man's cock. And one around the whole paper. As they say, “In for a penny, in for a pound,” whoever the hell they are.

IV.

I gave her two pages, with pictures on both sides, folded up to go in her pocket. Many were female masturbation pictures, including some with orgasmic facial expressions. Two showed men jacking off, one of them ejaculating. One was a close-up of an open pussy with obvious honey-colored liquid strung out to a fingertip. Two lesbian shots, four more 69's, and the rest were various intercourse poses. She took them with obvious embarrassment and put them away. I said that the last four digits of my phone number were printed on one of the pages and that the first three numbers were the same as hers. I suggested that she might be more comfortable talking to me over the phone at first; that is, if she wanted to talk to someone about sex.

She nodded and walked away. I didn't know if she nodded because she was acknowledging she heard me, or if it was because she did want to talk to someone, or if she wanted to talk to me. Oh, well. I was getting quite used to waiting.

Monday at about 4:15 she called. She was at a friend's house and the friend's parents weren't home. The friend was there, but not listening. I asked her what she wanted to talk about. She hummed and hawed but never picked a subject. To help her out, I suggested I just start talking and she could interrupt me with questions. She said that was okay.

I talked about the differences between boys and girls. Not just physically, but emotionally. After emphasizing erogenous zones I started into masturbation. “Everyone masturbates, Yurenka. Some people say that they don't, but everyone does. Boys are more famous for it than girls are, but every boy and every girl masturbates. The reason is that it feels good. Men do it and women do it. And there are many reasons to do it. Curiosity is the first reason because we hear stories when we are young about sex and we want to find out if 'it' works for us. But there are also times when we know we need to relieve the nervous tension we feel in our bodies, and that does it. Of course we usually do it while imagining some sexy situation and try to time our imaginary sexual peak with our orgasm. People who don't know how to pleasure themselves don't know how they should be pleasured by a lover, so they miss a lot of satisfaction from sex. We sometimes masturbate when we are sexually frustrated. For example, some men get so excited that they either can't hold back or are too mentally lazy to hold back their orgasm. They come, but their lover or wife didn't come yet. The guy rolls over and falls asleep and the lover/wife lays there and quietly fingers herself to orgasm. How sad that is, if it happens very often, for both of them. He doesn't even understand the tremendous joy his woman will provide for him if he waits and really makes love to her for her benefit, and she gets no real sense of having participated in a joining that should have turned her every way but loose. She feels incomplete with a lover like that and he may be too stupid to know what he is causing both of them to miss.”

Very quietly Yurenka said, “I think that's how it is with my mom and dad.”

“We can talk about that more later, if you want, but I have one more example of why people masturbate. Sometimes people either masturbate each other or for each other. Either one is very exciting, very pleasurable, and can help avoid a bad situation like pregnancy. In fact, that's why oral sex is popular with many people. No babies. Lots of pleasure.”

“You use words I don't understand, Mr. Thorpe.”

“Just call me 'Jay', Yurenka. Like what?”

“Like 'oral sex' and 'cunn-something'”.

“I'm trying to use polite words. For every sex act there are tons of other terms that are far more popular than the words I'm using, but I don't know if you want to use that language. Do you happen to have the first pictures I gave you with you?”

“Yes, I have them all here.”

“Well, the top left picture of the girl holding the man's penis, or cock, may be a situation where she is going to masturbate him until he comes. Or you could say she is going to 'jack him off'. The picture just below that is oral sex. That specific one is called '69' or 'eating each other out'. He licks her vagina or pussy and sucks on her clitoris or 'clit' until she comes and she licks and sucks on his cock until he comes. Of course he could suck her off first and then she could suck him off, but some people like to do each other at the same time. And many people, like me, like to do it either way. The bottom picture on the left shows a woman licking and sucking off another woman. That is also oral sex and is considered a 'lesbian' act. Women who love other women are called lesbians. Men who love other men are called 'gay'. People who love people of their same sex are called 'homosexuals' if they don't also love people of the opposite sex. If a woman loves both men and women she is called 'bisexual' or two sexes. Same if a man loves both women and other men. There are more words and phrases for sexual things than anything else in the world because there is nothing else in the world that is so important to all people as sex is.”

Yurenka said, “I have to go now.”

“Next time you masturbate, Yurenka, don't feel guilty about it. Enjoy it. Love how it makes you feel. Love the touch of your hand on your sex and imagine it's someone else's hand touching you. And love how you feel after you come. Please call me again when you feel like it.”

The seeds were planted.

Seeds take time.

V.

She called again on Thursday, during the morning. She was not feeling well so her parents left her home from school when they went out to work on whatever lawns they do on Thursdays.

“Are you really not feeling well, Yurenka?” I asked her.

“I'm okay. I guess I just felt lazy.”

“So, are you really in bed, now?”

“Yes. I've been reading.”

“ Penthouse Letters, I wonder?”

A long pause.

“Yurenka? You there?”

She said, “How did you know? I mean, why did you ask me that?”

“Because if I was curious about sex, and if I found a magazine in the trash, and it had all kinds of sexy stories and pictures in it, I'd be in bed, naked or close to it, reading the stories and looking at the pictures, and wanting to come.”

She hesitated, and then: “That makes me feel like you can see me.”

“In my minds eye, I can. Even though I've never seen you without clothes on, I still sort of know what you look like. After all, there are over five billion people in the world. A little over half of them are women. All of them have breasts and vaginas. I've seen thousands of naked women in every possible pose; real or pictures, magazines, movies and the Internet, white, black, Asian, Hispanic, you name it. I know you have a slim build. You have dark hair on your head and a dusting of hair on your arms. Your eyebrows are lush. From that evidence I would presume that you have a healthy growth of pubic hair. Of course I don't know how far under you it extends, or if you shave it into a shape that you like, but I doubt that part. From the little difference in the color of your lips versus your facial skin I would guess that your nipples are not dark, nor are your labia. How am I doing so far?”

“What's a 'labia'?” she asked cautiously.

“Your vagina is made up of several parts, created the way they are for enjoyable sex, first, and then the passage of a baby from your womb. So your outer labia or vagina lips can stretch a lot, which is why they are puffy, especially when you are excited. Your inner labia extend from just below your clit to the base of your pussy. They also can stretch a lot but they are normally protected by your outer lips which keep water or dirt out of your pussy when you walked around without clothes for a million years.”

“Wow. You really know a lot. And, uh, umm, I don't shave down there. I didn't know anyone shaved there. And, and my hair goes down, um, both sides.”

“Now I can see you better in my mind. Do you use your left hand, your right, or both?”

“You mean, when I…my right, most of the time.”

“So you're using your right hand on your pussy now?” A shot in the dark, but a safe one, considering the situation from her perspective.

“I'm not…How do you know? How can you tell. I'm doing that? Are you psychic or something? How do you know?”

“I would be if I were you. I would like to see you touching yourself. I would really like to see you when you come. Or, since I can't see you, I'd like to hear you when you come.”

“I could never make any noise. Someone would hear me.”

“Maybe usually, but you're there all alone, today. No one would hear you and trying to keep quiet when you come sort of diminishes the feeling. When you come you should be able to let loose and say or mumble or moan at any volume you like. Don't you agree?”

“I guess so. Why would you like to see me?”

“You must know that guys like to see girls naked. Girls your age like to see guys, also. It's part of learning about each other. But after you're a grown woman you'll learn to hide feelings like that and become very practiced at controlling when a guy sees you doing various things to get or keep him excited about you.”

She paused, then said, “You never told me what 'cunn-something' meant.”

“Cunnilingus means the oral sex performed on a woman's vagina or pussy or cunt. Licking it and poking the tongue into the vaginal passage as if it were a little penis or cock or prick.”

“And does that feel good?”

“A tongue is soft or hard, is warm and wet, and can make little tiny movements or long, slow licks. It feels fantastic to either a woman or a man.”

“But if boys are supposed to put their, uh, things in a girl, why would they want to put their, umm, tongue there?”

“Because they want to make their girl feel really good, get her really excited, maybe even make her come on their mouth. And really smart guys know that the more excited they get their girl, the better the sex will be for them.”

At this point I clearly heard little sounds coming from Yurenka. She must be jacking herself off pretty well. I felt like doing it myself. I continued, “When you dip your finger just inside your cunt you feel the wetness there. That's your lubrication. When you are excited it starts accumulating there to make you slick for intercourse, or fucking. You can spread that nice pussy cream around your clit when you're rubbing it and it feels better. The same thing is true for a guy's cock. You make it slippery so that it is comfortable for both of you when you're fucking.”

“Tell me more.” Her voice was husky and I felt she was probably going to come soon.

When I didn't say anything for a while she said, “Please. Tell me more.”

“Okay, but you have to promise me something, Yurenka.”

“What?”

“Promise me that when you come you won't try to be quiet. Make sounds. Moan or cry out or say what ever you feel like saying.

Please?”

A simple, strained, “Okay", was good enough for me.

VI.

I was now the dirty; passion teacher.

“A man's come is like a thick cream, it's kind of salty, and leaves an after-taste in your mouth. It's not bad, and many women like it. Some like it a lot. It comes out of his cock in spurts because it is being pumped out. Altogether there is about a tablespoon full. When a guy comes he pushes his cock as far into his girl as he can so that his pumping come gets as close to her uterus as possible. That's where the baby will grow if she gets pregnant. His cock swells even larger than it was while they were just fucking when he comes. The girl can feel that swelling and the pumping of his come into her and that will often set off her own orgasm. More? Are you close to coming, Yurenka?”

“Yes, more.” Gasping sounds. “I've never… felt like this. I'm going to explode. Tell me more. I want to hear more…”

Here goes the planting of the long distance seed, I thought and said, “If I was there with you, Yurenka, I would be lying on my stomach with my face between your warm thighs. It wouldn't be your finger on your clit, it would be my tongue. Tasting you. Making little licks around your clit and over the tip.”

She was getting more verbal. Now I had my cock out and was stroking it as I listened to the effect my words were having on her.

“Once in a while I would stiffen my tongue and push it into your hole and fuck it in and out of you a bit. My arms would be around the outsides of your thighs so that my hands could reach your breasts and play with your nipples.”

She was talking now, not to me, but for herself. Damn, this was.

“Your pussy cream would be all over my tongue when I went back to licking your clit. You taste so good, Yurenka. Your pussy is so hot. I bring my hands back down, lift your ass up off of the bed so that I can eat your pussy better, and suck on you until you orgasm on my face.”

That did it. All of the sounds and crying any man could wish to hear from his woman issued from her young mouth. Gasping, crying, moaning and then, slowly, silence.

“Yurenka, are you still there?”

She was: “I never felt like that before. I didn't know. I thought I was going to die, explode!” A long pause, followed by a quiet, “Is it supposed to be like that? I mean, is every time supposed to be like that? I never believed I could feel that way.”

Her voice trailed off at the end.

“In my mind, Yurenka, I watched you through all of that. You were beautiful. I could feel your breasts and your nipples in my hands. I could feel the heat of your pussy on my face. I could almost taste your excitement as I licked your pussy and your clit. I enjoyed it, too.”

“Did you…were you, uh, touching yourself, too, Jay?”

“Not at first. But you were so exciting, and I could see you so clearly in my mind, that I finally began stroking my cock and I came when you did.”

“I think I'd better go, now.”

“Yurenka? I have lots more to tell you about. Call again, if you want to. Okay?”

“Yes.”

Click.

VII.

Yurenka didn't call again for a couple of weeks. When I saw her during lawn cutting days she was still shy, but would smile. I didn't have any more pictures prepared for her but I was collecting some. I did, however, have another Penthouse Letters that disappeared from the gray can in the back yard about a week before.

At about 6:30 on a Friday evening she called. “I can call another time if you're busy.”

“Now is fine. I've been thinking about you lately. You found the magazine?”

“Yes. I found it. Well, actually Milla found it. My sister. She looked because she found my other magazine in our bedroom and she wanted to know where I found it and wouldn't leave me alone until I told her and then she started running to the blue can before I could whenever we got there and last week it was there and she took it.”

Was I ever young enough to get that many words in one sentence?

“What did she think of the stuff she had found?”

“She was really interested and asked me all kinds of questions and stuff. She also said that she knew that I did 'stuff' at night in bed and wanted to know what it was. If Mom and Dad find out they'll kill me.”

“They won't 'kill' you, Yurenka, but there is a way you can make sure that Milla doesn't tell them.”

“How?”

“Let her in on it. Then it's her secret, too, and she won't want to tell anyone. And she is probably just as curious about sex as you were. You can help her understand what is right and what is just the bullshit that many kids come up with because they really don't know about sex, either.”

“Well, I did tell her some stuff. But I don't know how to explain the pictures you gave me.”

“Does she know about them?”

“Yes. She found everything under the mattress of my bed.”

“Just tell her that you found them in my trash, too. If I throw something away, and you find it, and you take it, it's not my fault even though I was careless about how I got rid of the stuff. See?”

“Okay, but that doesn't help with her wanting to know what I do after we go to bed! I can't show her that! I'm no les.. lesbian! I'm her sister.”

“You may not want to 'show' her on yourself, but you could show her on her. And even if you did show her on yourself, that doesn't mean that you're a lesbian.”

“I couldn't do that. Why wouldn't that make me a lesbian or weird or something?”

“Remember I said that homosexuals 'only' make love to their same sex. Guys with guys and girls with girls. Homosexual guys don't think of girls as sex mates and Homosexual girls don't think of guys as sex mates. Never. But 'bisexual' people (and there are a lot more of them than homosexual people) think of either as sex mates, though they normally have a preference for the opposite sex. See?”

“It would be really weird to talk to my sister about touching herself, and I could never show her.”

“Keep what you know to yourself and let Milla learn from other kids who don't give a shit about her and will just want to use her for their own pleasure without caring if she ever feels what you felt the last time we talked. Do you remember how that felt?”

Little voice: “Yes, I remember.”

“Well, although you found the things I was telling you exciting, and that's why it was so much better than when you touch yourself alone, everything I said to you was also the truth. Don't you want Milla to know the truth about sex instead of some stupid version her friends might tell her?”

“I could just tell her, not show her like a weirdo.”

“Yurenka. You have to decide what you want to do. You love your sister. She loves you. She obviously is intent on learning about sex. If you answer her questions, and you somehow show her how to please herself, which will be loving her. If you got to where you two masturbated together, it would be more exciting for each of you, because you would be sharing the pleasure. Just like it was so much better for you to share with me on the phone than to just do it by yourself. It hasn't been as good for you since that day, has it? Do you see what I mean?”

“Yeah, I see. But it's still good. I mean, when I…do myself.”

“Yes, of course. But it's not anywhere near as good as when I was on the phone with you. Right?”

“No. That was awesome!”

“There are two reasons for that 'awesomeness', Yurenka. One, is that you were imagining what I was saying to you, experiencing yourself through me, my words to you, the images that my words created in your mind. Two, is the fact that I care about you so I didn't tell you things that weren't real, and I was totally honest with you about every word I spoke. Only caring people do that for each other.

Strangers don't give a damn about anything except their own pleasure. Who cares about your sister more than you do? Who wants good things for her more than you do? How many teenage boys do you think there are in the world who know all that they should know about the realities of sex, with an understanding of what a girl needs to satisfy her?”

“I know what you're saying. I know she wants to know everything.”

“So did you at her age. How much would you have appreciated a big sister who could have helped you back then?”

“Oh!”

“By the way, Yurenka, where are you? I forgot to ask.”

“I'm at my same friend's house as when I called you the first time. She loaned me a key while they were all at her aunts house in Mexico for a week.”

“How old is your friend and why would she loan you a key?”

“She's the same age as me. She loaned me the key so I could use her room and have some privacy.”

“For?”

“What?”

“Privacy for what, Yurenka?”

“You know.”

“Yes, I do. But does she?”

“Well, sort of. I mean she doesn't know about you, but she knows about wanting to be able to, you know, um, masturbate. And she knows I'm getting my “stuff” from an older guy.”

“What's her name?”

“Ivette.”

“Sometime I'd like you to tell me about Ivette.”

“Okay.”

“Are you 'masturbating' now?”

“No, I'm still sort of dressed.”

“In what?”

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Don't play games, Yurenka. How can I see you in my mind if I don't know how you're dressed.”

“Why do you have to see me in your mind?”

“Are you the only one who is supposed to get pleasure out of our conversations? Are you the only one who gets to jack-off and have an orgasm? I want those things, too, and I have to do most of the work, here. Help me and I help you. What are you wearing and where are you?”

“I'm lying on her bed. I have my bra and panties on.”

“And what do you want to talk about?”

“Why did you give me pictures of girls, uh, doing each other, but none of boys doing each other?”

“Good question. I gave you pictures of guys eating girls because I really like that, like doing it I mean. And I gave you pictures of couples in a 69, eating each other, because I really like that. I will get you pictures of guys sucking each other off, if you want, but I'm not interested in them myself. Most men aren't. But! Most men relish seeing two girls making love to each other. That is a real turn on. Very few men probably ever get to see it in person; I certainly never have. But most men want to see it, and take looking at pictures of it as a remote second to actually being there.”

“So why did you give me those pictures?”

“That would be difficult to answer without possibly upsetting you.”

“But I want to know, and so does Ivette.”

“Really? Ivette?”

“Yes…I showed her.”

“The answer in a nutshell is that two girls can't make each other pregnant. There is a longer answer but that is the short version. By the way, have you started playing with yourself yet?”

“Yes, but just through my panties.”

“Has it started to feel good yet?”

“Yes. Some. Will you tell me the long answer?”

“Yes. Or at least a longer answer. Some other time I'll tell you the Long answer. Put your hand inside your panties while you touch yourself. Okay?”

“I did.”

“It's perfectly normal for you, or your friend Ivette, to want to experiment with sex. Everyone has for low these millions of years.

For most of those millions of years there was, for a curious girl, only her hand or another girl or a real guys cock. And almost every cock is dangerous to a curious girl. But now in addition to your own hand or another girl, there are 'dildos' for the curious girl. Although not as good as a cock, or at least an educated cock, they do provide a lot of the same sensations as a cock in your pussy during intercourse. So a smart girl, who doesn't want to get pregnant just to have some fun, turns to either her hand, not bad but not great, or her dildo, if she has one but they're hard for kids to get and harder to hide, or a helpful girl friend. A helpful girlfriend can jack off with you so that the sharing of jacking off makes you both more excited and you orgasm much better. And neither of you can get pregnant. A girlfriend could also jack you off and you her. That is even more exciting because we never really get used to the touch of someone else on our body. And neither of you can get the other pregnant. Finally, another girl can perform cunnilingus on you, and you on her. Now this is a whole new realm of orgasm. No hand or finger or cock can touch your clit in all of the ways and with all of the sensations that a tongue and lips can. There is no equal. Not that it should replace intercourse! No way. But you show me a girl who has been eaten by her guy to her first orgasm and then fucked to her second orgasm and I'll show you a happy, happy girl. A close second is to be eaten by another girl to two orgasms. And, no pregnancy risk. That's the longer answer.”

“Wow! You don't hold nothing back, do you?”

“Not much. Well, what did you think of my answer and what are you doing now?”

“I'm fingering my, my clit. My hand is inside my panties, and I'm very wet down there. I see what you're saying but I don't know if I could do any of that stuff. Not that last bit, for sure. No way.”

“I'll tell you what. When you care about someone, and especially when you love someone, you'll find that you want to do whatever it takes to make that person happy. And they want to make you happy, too. That could be true of you and your friend. You just never know, sometimes. It's certainly not true for everybody, but you maybe shouldn't knock it if you haven't tried it.”

“Oh, yuck!”

“Don't be so quick to jump to wrong conclusions, my sweet Yurenka. Your pussy cream, lubricant, is mostly glucose. Do you know what that our bodies when we eat food. Our body turns it into glucose and our blood carries it to our cells to nourish us. And when you concentrate glucose it becomes thick and slippery. Sort of like honey, only not as sweet. So if a girl keeps herself clean (which is a whole other subject for someday) then she tastes good. Sort of sweet. Got it?”

“Sure, but that doesn't mean I would ever want to lick another girl, or even touch her.”

“True, true. But how do you feel about another girl doing that to you? Touching you with her soft fingers, opening your pussy lips and stroking you inside, inserting a finger in you and moving it around inside you in a way she knows will feel good to you because she knows how it feels to her; which no boy can ever know. Delicately touching your clit as no boy can really know how to do because he doesn't have a clit to practice on. Bending down so that her warm breath is so close to your pussy that you want to beg her to lick you. Delicately pulling on your pussy lips with her lips, teasing them. Putting the point of her tongue just under your clit in that little hollow that you can feel with your finger and then slowly licking up to the tip of your clit.” My God, she was moaning. She was getting off on my words about girl-sex. This was almost too good to be true. I went on with, “My fingers and tongue can do almost the same thing because I've learned over the years how to do it pretty right. I could nibble on your pussy and lick and suck your clit almost as good as a girl can. That's what I'm imagining right now. Lovingly sucking on your cunt to make you come on my mouth.”

Louder moaning from Yurenka.

“Now she would reach up to play with your nipples the same way she would want you to play with hers. You would be rubbing your pussy all over her face and she would be licking up all of your cream so that none was wasted. Then she would pull one hand back and insert her middle finger up in your cunt like a small cock and fuck it in and out of you while her lips had your clit trapped and her tongue was lashing back and forth over the tip of your clit. Loving it.

Loving you. Making you come hard. Your hands in her hair to pull her even closer to your hot cunt.”

“Oh,” cried Yurenka in my ear. “Oh, it's so good. Oh! Oh…”

“Was that good for you, Yurenka?”

“It was better than last time, if that's possible. And faster, too.

Oh. Wow. I can't move.”

“See? The thought of another girl sucking on you got you off big time,” I told her, hoping for a favorable response.

“Well… yes, but only to think about. I wouldn't really want that to happen. It ain't right.” Then, after a pause, she continued with, “I'll bet it's nice, just like you say, but I don't feel right about it. But a guy licking me-that would be great!”

There was the open door.

“I wish I could really see you, Yurenka,” I said sincerely. “See you sweating and flushed with sexual heat. In fact I wish I could taste your pussy for real to see if we did a good job of making you come.”

“How could you tell by that?”

“There is a change in the way a woman tastes before her orgasm and how she tastes after. I like that change.”

“You would really want to…to lick me?”

“Yes. If me talking about it makes you come like you just did, imagine how much better it would be if I could really see and touch your naked body. Kiss your breasts and suck on your nipples. Run my hands all over you. Put my mouth on your pussy and give you pleasure. Can you imagine that?”

Quietly, almost too quietly to even hear, she said, “I'd like that.”

“Where does your girlfriend live; by you or toward me?”

“Three blocks from you. I come here on my bike.”

“Well, you pedal three more blocks and you can find out how it feels to be licked and loved.”

“I couldn't now. I just…had…”

“You could have more,” I said, “many more, and they fell much better after each one.”

“You wouldn't, um, try to, you know, um, want to, uh, um, put your, um, thing in me?”

“No, Yurenka. It would be just for your pleasure. I promise you that I will not put my cock in your pussy and fuck you. Say that, Yurenka.”

“Uh, you won't try to, um, fuck me?”

“That's right. I won't. I'm not a teenage boy who can't control himself when he's with a beautiful girl. Even when she's naked.”

“Well, maybe. Just for a little while, maybe. We'll see. Maybe.”

“It's up to you.. The woman should always get to decide about sexual matters because they have the most to lose or gain. Bye, Yurenka.”

I hung up the phone without waiting for her response.

And waited.

VIII.

She was here at my house within twenty minutes. She rode her bike fast. I had opened one of the big wooden gates to the back yard so she could ride right in if she actually came. She laid down the bike and stood there looking at me sitting on the back porch. Looking like she would bolt away any second, I started with things she would hopefully want to hear more of.

I told her, “You are so beautiful in my mind's eye when we talk on the phone, but standing there you are even more exciting and sexy than my imagination. Do you know that?”

She replied, “These are old school clothes, and…do you really think I'm beautiful?”

“And exciting and sexy. Yes. All of those. Your sister will be too, in another year or two, when she matures as you have. If I were an artist I would want to paint you in your glorious youth. I'm glad you came. Would you like to come in?”

She nodded.

I showed her into the living room and sat down without offering her a seat and said, “I want this to be as exciting for you as possible, Yurenka, and since I'm the more experienced of us I think that you should let me direct you and you just watch and feel things as they happen. I won't touch you without your permission. But I'll tell you what I want to do and then you agree or nod or something. Okay?”

“Okay.” And as an afterthought added, “Jay.”

“I won't even get undressed so that you'll know that you're s and in control of everything. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Stand here in front of me, Yurenka.” She moved to about 3 feet away. Closer. I need to be able to reach you when you let me.”

She moved to within a foot of my knees.

I spread my knees and said, “Closer.”

Moving within the 'V' shape of my knees she asked, “Is this okay?”

“That's fine. Now unzip your jacket and put it on the couch, here.”

She did so, slowly.

I continued: “I would like to touch your breasts through your shirt. Is that okay?”

She nodded and watched my hands as I moved them up to her chest. She flinched a bit when I made contact with her. I held them still for a short while to let her get used to being touched. I molded her tits in my hands, so ever softly. Her nipples erected, like the forgotten World Trade Center, almost immediately. Using just my thumbs and index fingers I tried to manipulate her nipples through her shirt and bra. She closed her eyes for a bit so I presumed it felt good to her. I rubbed and molded and tweaked her some more and then put my hands back in my lap.

She opened her eyes and looked down at me.

“Did that feel nice to you?”

She nodded, said, “No one has ever touched me like that before. Except me.”

“Now unbutton your shirt, please and put it with your jacket.” She started to do so fairly quickly, so I added, “Always go slowly to tease your lover. Remember that you are unwrapping the package that your lover views as a precious gift.”

“That makes it sound really nice.”

“It is really nice and you are one hell of a package, Yurenka.”

She continued unbuttoning her shirt and slowly took it off, looking quite embarrassed. I told her that she had such a great body that she should not feel the way she did. When the shirt joined the jacket her light brown skin made such a sharp contrast with her snow white bra that it was all I could do to keep from hugging her to me. Instead I said that I wanted to touch her breasts again. She nodded again and watched my hands approach her delicate young tits. Again I molded and plied and tweaked with her watching one, then the other of my hands on her virgin breasts.

“Now I want to move my hands around to your back and down to your ass so that I can feel your firm ass cheeks. Is that okay with you?”

“Is okay,” she could barely say and shivered as my hands slowly moved around from her tits to the center of her back, then slowly down to the small of her back, and finally on to her ass. I molded and felt her ass while watching her face. She was now standing with her hips slightly thrust toward me and her back arched, eyes closed, and a slight smile on her lips.

I said that I wanted to move one of my hands around to the front of her. She didn't say anything but opened her eyes and bent her head down to see exactly the movement of my left hand. Slowly I moved it around front, without breaking contact with her hip, and as my left hand slid in between her upper thighs to cup her pussy my right hand slid down to enter the space between the backs of her thighs. She made some sort of sound and I kept moving my hands around as if I was trying to touch her ass hole and massage her clit at the same time. She made it obvious that she liked what I was doing, sometimes looking down at my hand and sometimes closing her eyes and moving her head about.

It was while her eyes were closed that I said, “Take your bra off. I want to see your breasts.”

In what seemed like a dreamlike state, with me still manipulating her crotch with both of my questing hands, she reached behind herself and unhooked her bra, shrugged it from her shoulders, caught it and dropped it on the couch.

I had never seen such young breasts in my life. Certainly not as a bashful and awkward teenager. Yurenka might someday have breasts as large as her mother, but now they were “B” cup suckable and more than enough for this old man.

“Touch your breasts for me.”

She did as I requested, gladly it seemed, as I continued to manipulate her groin and she ground her groin into my hands.

“Would you lean forward a little so I can kiss your lovely nipples?”

She bent forward and watched my mouth fasten onto her left nipple as she continued to gyrate on my hands. Her nipple was small but hard. We both enjoyed my sucking action, her because she was moaning again. Just as I switched to her other nipple I asked, “Would you unbutton your jeans and lower the zipper for me?”

The instant my left hand left off pushing up into her clothed pussy and started sliding down inside her jeans to rub her pussy through her panties she started coming. To say I was surprised would be an understatement. I had to help her support herself and she still almost fell on top of me. Now I had to move faster to keep the momentum going. When she seemed in some control again I moved her to sit beside me on the couch and pulled her jeans down to her ankles. She was making sounds and blurred words and rolling her head like she was still in the throes of orgasm. The panties followed the jeans to be bunched up at her ankles. I didn't know if she could come three times in an hour but the time to find out was now before she got back on earth. I slid her forward so that her butt was on the edge of the couch, lifted her legs up high, forced her knees apart and knelt at her hot crotch.

Looking up at her face between her bent legs I said to her unfocused eyes: “Yurenka. Look at me. Mira! Watch what I'm going to do. Do you know what I'm going to do?”

She nodded and let out a, “Yes”.

“What am I going to do? Yurenka?”

Looking up from her pussy to my face she said, “You're going to lick my pussy.” She said it without pause.

“Yes, I'm going to put my warm mouth on your hot pussy and lick and suck you until you come again. Watch me. Feel my mouth on your cunt, Yurenka.”

I lowered my face into young teen heaven. She started moaning right away and her hands flew to the sides of my head. I tried to avoid her clit for a while but it was difficult because she was fucking my face with spasmodic movements. Pausing for a moment I wet my right thumb and my left middle finger. I pushed the thumb into her passage and started fucking her with it and started touching her ass hole with the finger.

Off she went.

She came for a long time and I tried to stay with her, keeping my face buried in her snatch, my thumb up her passage and my finger on her ass hole while she bopped and bounced all over. Finally she began calming. She looked like she had just come in from the shipwrecked Titanic. And, of course, she looked like a totally beautiful, totally fucked out young woman.

IX.

Yurenka left. She thanked me; profusely. I thanked her as well.. She said she would call in a couple of days unless she saw me Saturday.

Oh, I had plans for her, for the next time she came over and all the other next times, maybe two or three times a week if we could pull it off. Every visit I would show her something new, leading up to the prize: my taking her virginity.

As she rode off on her bike I asked myself how long I thought this could go on without a neighbor wondering what a young chick was doing in a house alone with an old guy like me. I'd probably pushed the limit, and needed to come up with Plan B.

It didn't take long for it to all come to a close.

And that's where I am right now.

I am lying on the ground, bleeding, and I know I don't have much time left.

You see, Saturday came and there was Gilberto, but he was alone, no family this time.

With shears in his hand, he approached me.

“Buenos dias, Gilberto,” I said.

Like a knife, he thrust the shears at my stomach and penetrated me like a dick.

I looked at the shears in my flesh, the blood, and then looked at Gilberto.

There was all the hate in the world in his eyes.

“For Yurenka,” he said, “for stealing her innocence. You deserve this, and I think you know that.”

He pulled the shears out of me and more blood gushed forward, I fell to the ground.

Gilberto turned and walked away. He got into his truck and left me there, here, to bleed on the ground.

I'm getting dizzy.

I look at the growing weeds and think: Who the hell will shear them now?

Oh, the weeds!

The damn weeds!

Fuck the weeds!

Oh, Yurenka! Yurenka, gentlemen, your swords risen!

And all I can think of is Yurenka and her sweet young cunt.

All I can think of is Yurenka and her wonderful tits.

I died for those things.

I died for lust, sirs!

Yurenka!

Did I deserve it?

Probably.

Was it worth it?

Possibly, just possibly…

Content

J. Wellington Thorpe
The Gardener's Daughter

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.