When he arrived at the house in McCaughey Street - an awful name, he always thought - Annike emerged precisely at eleven - alone.
"Candy's staying here overnight," she explained. "to comfort Betsy."
That was understandable. In losing her elder son - whom she had dearly loved - Betsy had suffered as much as Candy who had lost her husband.
"So you'll have to walk me home alone," Annike said happily, taking his arm. "I hope you don't mind."
She was a beautiful girl, with sparkling eyes and vivacious ways.
"You know how much I'm going to hate it," he teased her, knowing that already he was in love with her and would do almost anything she asked. Being with her, whatever they did, was the great joy of his life these days. When he was not with her, he felt only half alive and yearning - always yearning - to get back to her, feast his eyes on her loveliness, hear her melodious voice, touch her, hug her.
They walked the long way back, with a detour through the pine break. It was gloomy and cold in there but they had all the privacy they could have wished. No one would spy on them there whatever they might be doing.
In a secluded nook, they held one another more closely and, safe from everyone and everything, kissed long and deeply. He loved to cuddle her, feel her body pressed close to his. Now their embraces became so passionate that he had his hand up her skirt and inside her panties before a sense of guilt caused him to withdraw.
He dearly wanted to go further. He always felt guilty when he had "lewd" thoughts about her, as he did now. He knew he shouldn't - and shouldn't even think in such terms but, whatever his conscience said, he knew that what he wanted at that moment was simply to fuck her or, as his rough mates put it even more crudely, to "get up" her.
His coarse lewdness, when they kissed and cuddled in the forest of pines, was even worse since he was walking her home to protect her from being molested in the very way that he now wanted so much to "molest" her himself. He'd never seen her undressed, never even seen her in panties, let alone - something he dreamed about - taken them down. Indeed, he'd never seen anything of the more intimate parts of her lovely body, although from what he'd seen when they'd been dressed to go horse-riding and play tennis together, he knew how beautiful she was. Lovely enough certainly to "molest" and, strange to say, as far as he progressed in embracing her, she seemed to welcome his "molestation". When his hands began to stray, she seemed even to encourage him. When his hand had been up between her thighs and under the leg of her panties, she had moved her legs apart to give him easier access and, he thought, had sighed more than her consent. With her sigh, she seemed to have registered her pleasure as his fingers reached for their ultimate goal.....
"Women are strange," he decided. "They ask to be protected, then they're eager to surrender to their protector."
He had desperately wanted to open his fly and, standing in the open, get his swollen cock inside her panties and stick it up her, but....
He disciplined himself - nobly, he thought, though he nearly burst with desire - and delivered her safely back to Beaulieu and to her room.
There she kissed him and whispered, "Thank you."
She kissed him again and held him tight. He was becoming highly aroused again and his self-control was collapsing. He could feel his erection against her body. She lowered her embrace to press his bottom - and to feel his erection more closely.
Excited, she broke the kiss and asked him, "Will you come back to say 'Goodnight'?" She kissed him again cheekily on the lips. "Candy won't be back tonight. So I'll be all alone. Vulnerable. I need someone to...." - she searched for the right phrase - "look after me."
He smiled. "It's a sacrifice; but I suppose someone has to make it."
"Pig!" she said, kissed him in farewell and disappeared into her room.
But before she closed her door, she whispered, "You are a pig but please.....please come back and fuck me."
In his room, he made noises to make it appear he was getting ready for bed. He cleaned his teeth. He flushed the toilet. He changed into pyjamas but then, instead of getting into bed, he donned a dressing gown, gave himself a little spray of seductive after-shave and, quietly as he could, opened and closed his room door behind him.
Outside, he could hear no sound from the other rooms. Carefully, he tip-toed down the corridor to Annike's room. She had left her door unlocked.
Inside, he saw that she was already in bed. A small bedside light was burning. With a bent forefinger, she beckoned him wickedly and turned down the clothes to let him in beside her.
As he reached her, he saw her in a nightie for the first time. He was transfixed, gazing at her.
She smiled up at him. "Like it?" she asked.
She smiled at him. "It's my fornicating suit."
She giggled.
He threw off his dressing gown and she had her answer to whether he liked it in the throbbing cock peeping out of the opening of his pyjama pants.
She reached over and touched it.
"Oh, darling, yes," he almost shouted.
"Ssshh....." she warned, "or you'll wake the whole house."
She shaded the light but did not turn it out.
"I want to see you when you're fucking me," she explained.
He slipped into her bed and they kissed. Her nightdress was designed to expose most of her splendidly firm, young breasts. He kissed and fondled them greedily.
