Little One 10

Kat, short for Katalie, was a tiny and precocious young lady. In fact, due to her 4' 11" frame, she was often mistaken for a high school freshman. Ironically, she turned 18 in September with a 31-24-35 body, tiny and was petite to a T. Yes, her parents actually made up that name. Her teachers often remarked how bright and diligent she was in her studies. By her senior year of high school, any number of teachers were more than happy to write her letters of recommendations. As she was walking onto the city college campus, she saw a new program posted on the school's digital bulletin board.

"Check out a Living Book" the digital flier announced. The city library, in partnership with the local university U of Elmherst, had taken the idea from several libraries in Europe, notably Amsterdam, Helsinki, and Vienna. Instead of checking out a book, you checked out a person. You met at the library at an agreed upon time, and spoke for an hour. If you wanted to 'check out' the person again, you arranged to do so when your hour was up. You could 'check out' a person no more than 3 times. The first was randomly assigned, since no one knew who were the 'books'. She followed the QR code and booked a meeting for the following Monday at 3pm.

Come Monday, she checked in at the front counter, and learned her 'book' had already arrived and was in the courtyard. She walked over, wearing the distressed jeans popular with her generation. Her Elmherst hoodie fit her a bit large, but she looked cozy. He was sitting with his back to her at a coffee table. As she navigated the tables, she reached the table and offered her hand in a handshake. He stood up, and shook her hand, smiling as he did.

"I brought you some coffee," he handed her a cup. "Didn't know what kind you like, so I brought several fixings so you can make it the way you like it. And I brought you a homemade scone as well."

As he spoke, she took in his appearance, he looked to be in his forties, full head of hair with grey at the temples. His light jacket was open and he wore a close fitting polo shirt with a logo on the left, and a newsboy cap to top it off. He had a short cropped beard, nice and trim. His easy relaxed manner was disarming. And whatever cologne he was wearing really suited her olfactory senses.

"I'm Katalie, but everyone calls me Kat. I'm taking four courses here at Junior College, but I intend to attend Elmherst hopefully next fall." she spoke, in a voice reminiscent of Kathleen Turner.

"I'm Michael Bishop, a retired teacher by trade, a humanist by creed. I am currently teaching abroad and just returned from Malaysia after 9 months abroad".

"Oh wow, so do you travel a lot?" she asked, very interested in traveling herself.

"Yes and no, when I'm on assignment I travel locally and really get to learn about the culture and the people. Since I'm abroad, that is my travel. I prefer longer stays, than the typical vacation travel. Due to my semi-retirement, I have a number of pen pals from around the world."

She stared at him in wonder. Suddenly, this idea of a person as a book seemed so amazing. She had a difficult time fathoming such a life. What do you begin to ask such a person? So she fell for the obvious one by default.

"So what subject do you teach abroad? What did you teach before you retired?" He was rapidly seeing why her teachers enjoyed having her as a student.

"I teach English abroad, that's the most common assignment. I taught AP Economics and a Sociology elective in high school."

"Ooh, so can I ask you questions if I start to struggle in my Econ class this year?" she joked.

"Of course," he chuckled, "well played young lady."

The conversation roamed from there, taking twists and turns neither had expected. She appreciated his worldly experience and his baritone voice was perfect for public speaking. Towards the end of their hour, she asked if she could 'check him' out again.

"Absolutely, I would enjoy that." he smiled. They booked the next meeting at the front desk.

The next time she met with him, he suggested a stroll through the campus, instead of sitting at a table. "We can do that?" she asked.

"I didn't read any rules to the contrary," he smiled.

So they walked from the Library patio, through the attached garden, and onto the campus commons.

"I didn't think to ask you last time, but are you married? And if you are, what does your wife do while you are away?"

He smiled, but she detected a note of sadness, and just like that, it was gone. His smile widened showing his pearly whites. "Take a guess," he threw it back to her.

She thought for several seconds and started deducing the possibilities. One, she could not imagine a woman being okay with her husband gone for most of the year, unless their marriage was rocky and they didn't get along anymore. But that sounded highly unlikely. So not married, but at his age? Separated? No, the most logical answer was he was...

"Divorced?" she put forth.

"Close, but no...I am a widower." The flash of sadness came and went in the blink of an eye.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I shouldn't have pried."

"No, don't be, that's exactly why you're here, to pry. If you think of a person's life as a book, think of all the unsaid things about a character in a book. With this program, you can venture between the pages and go looking into the closets. That was my experience when I sat across a table in Amsterdam, talking to a French Resistance fighter."

"You've done this too?" a smile spread across her face. "That's amazing!"

His smile spread wide as well. "That's why you looked sad for a split second. But you looked happier after that?"

His smile widened even more. "Because Kat, you reminded me of her." A single tear rolled down his cheek. Instinctively, she wiped the tear from his face. As her hand retreated, he took it in his, and kissed the back of her hand like a gentleman in a movie.

"What was that for?

"For being such a caring person at your age. And because that's exactly what my wife would have done."

They walked in silence for a time after that. She started to make small talk, but he stopped her.

"We're not here to talk about little things, we're here to talk about life, if you will. The sad thing about movies and pop culture is that everything has a happy ending. Not that it was different for my generation, but at least some of the books we read were tragedies. I think your generation could stand to read more of them. Life has meaning because of the difficulties we face, not despite them."

"Well, I can't think of what to ask you now..."

"Then I'll tell you a happy story then. I'll tell you about my wife. Actually, you remind me of her.

She was also petite. She loved to dance, she would spin and whirl to her own music if she had to. She loved cooking and gardening in equal measure. I have maintained it as an act of devotion to her, but with her, that garden was a slice of paradise."

"Maybe I can see it one day?" she shot in.

"Maybe," he smiled that smile again. "It would be my genuine pleasure" he beamed.

"Tell me more about her. Tell me the stuff that's in the closet," she hit on what he had said earlier.

He stopped walking, appraising her anew. "That is a very insightful thing to ask, young lady!"

He thought, and then started strolling again. "Tell me, do you know the difference between sex and love?"

"One is physical, the other is...spiritual? She looked at him, not sure if that was the right word to use.

"That's very good, yes, if by spiritual you mean the connection between people, then love is what connects beyond the physical."

"That's totally what I meant." He roared with laughter, her sense of humor surprised him.

She burst in laughter as well, enjoying his response. After several moments to catch his breath, he said,

"Okay weisenheimer, then give me an example of love!"

"Easy, my mom and dad."

"They never fight? Argue about the bills, raise their voices...yell at each other?"

"I suppose, yeah."

"Does that mean they don't love each other?"

"Well no, because they make up."

"Exactly. With my wife in later years, our physical and spiritual relationship became harder to connect. A lot of our fighting was because of the underlying issue, until we resolved that issue. And despite our irregular solution, we both loved each other very much, right to the end."

"What issue, what irregular solution?"

He looked at her, thinking. "Do you really want the details?"

"Did I find the skeletons in the closet?" He was again surprised by her insight.

"Yes, that's exactly what you found. Yes or no, but be warned it is not for the faint of heart."

"Yes, this is almost like a mystery novel!"

"Well said. My wife started to go through menopause, as her homones diminshed, she lost her sex drive, then the act itself became painful. Since we had been dating, and all through our marriage we had been passionate lovers. When, without explanation our sex life started to detiorate, the arguing began. The shouting matches became more common. Once she was diagnosed, we started working on solutions. She tried the treatments, but they didn't sit well with her. We used any manner of remedies but it was only partially successful, until it wasn't successful at all. We were at a crossroads."

"You're talking about sex?" she said.

"Yes, but that is how people connect, the love making, not the simple physical act. However, if the physical act doesn't work, for whatever reason, the love suffers, the connection suffers."

"So what was the solution?"

"Have you ever heard the phrase 'cuckold'?" he ventured.

"No, what is that?"

"A man who enjoys watching another man sleep with his wife. In our case, my wife became a cucktress; she watched me sleep with another woman."

Several yards passed by without a word.

"I'm not sure what to say about that. Mind blown!" she tried to inject humor by her hands making an explosion sign next to her head.

"She enjoyed watching you sleep with other women?"

"I would say she grew to enjoy it. She acquiesced to my request to find a paramour. At first, she didn't want to know, or let alone watch. But she grew curious, and she would ask me questions about it. I think she became aroused, and the fact she felt aroused despite the menopause is what made it possible. Once she started watching, the connection we made during our lovemaking started to return. As the woman I brought into our home acted as her body, we looked into each other's eyes keeping our connection alive."

"Oh my gawd! That makes a kind of sense! What was it like?"

The Bedroom

"The first time I brought home a lady, I tried to find a woman that looked like her. We were in our bedroom, as I took her. My wife sat on the side of the bed, as I performed cunnilingus on her, her hands in my hair as I tasted her womanhood. Once she was pleased, I rose above her to look at my wife's eyes. The woman swimming under me as we danced a horizontal dance. I was satisfied, as was my paramour. My wife stimulated herself to completion. So it seemed the solution had worked."

"Seemed?"

"Well, the more my wife thought about it, the more she didn't care for my paramour looking like her. She also started to feel it was distasteful to sully our marriage bed."

"So what did you do?"

The Living Room

"The next paramour I found was the opposite of my wife; I met and seduced a caramel of a woman, a dark skinned lady. She had a svelte body, sleek with curves any woman would be proud to carry. I took her on the couch, but quickly realized both of us were better served if she took me. We switched, so she rode me, I was able to massage her swells, while she danced her hips across and over my waist. My eyes locked on my wife, aroused to see her pleasuring herself, using her hands to slide herself open and squeeze her pearl. We all reached our peak at nearly the same time. The connection between my wife and I was stronger than before."

"Then what?"

"Unfortunately, we were not able to continue our arrangement with her. So I went searching again. I came across a lady that would be with us for some time, she was a recent immigrant from Iran. She was a vision of Persian beauty, long dark hair that fell like a waterfall. Her bosom heavy but carried themselves with dignity, and such shapely hips and legs as if created especially for belly dancing. We lay on the couch side by side, I approached from the rear, kissing her neck as I entered her. As we lay on our left side, facing my wife we both looked into my wife's eyes. My hand massaged her large breasts, still kissing her neck. My wife used a string of large beads, about the size of apricot pits to stimulate herself. She rubbed them over and between her valley, until a spring of her waters flowed."

"Ohmygosh! So you had found a lover that was part of you both?"

"Yes, it felt different than before. It was as if my wife had physically made love to her too."

"Is she still your lover, now that... now that.."

"My wife has passed? No, once my wife fell ill, there was no point to continue. She visited me several times during that difficult time. My wife didn't watch, didn't join us. And as much as I enjoyed her favor she bestowed on me with those conjugal visits, I felt a measure of guilt that my wife was not involved. My wife encouraged me to continue, but I eventually thanked her for helping my wife and I. And that was that."

"How long ago was this?'

"Several years ago. I am only now seeking another paramour. I think it's time." he smiled but with a hint of sadness.

"Have you found someone? Hopefully?" She stopped and looked at him.

"That will have to wait till our next visit." They had arrived back at the Library. They scheduled their third and last meeting several weeks ahead. Kat returned to her life in a daze. It had been so much to take in. She had a peak at how life, a normal life could become so complicated, and yet at the core of it was human connection, a search for love and understanding.

The Garden

The third meeting arrived and he met her again in the patio, but when she arrived, he informed her the program had approved her request to visit his garden.

"But I didn't put in a request!" she stated.

"No, I did. But you did say you would like to see our garden if you ever had the chance. So I thought you wouldn't mind."

"Yes! Fantastic, I love it."

She followed him as he walked to a car parked at the curb. He tossed her the keys, "You drive."

It was a classic roadster and had the top down. She climbed behind the wheel which was on the right side.

"Well, this is different!" she beamed. He gave her directions, and they were off. They drove into an affluent tree lined neighborhood. He pointed and she drove smoothly into a driveway. They got out, and he walked her into the house.

Switching on the lights, he let her walk through and let her eyes roam. The outside of the house looked like a Japanese style home, as did the interior. Polished wood floors with white panel walls, and insets that had bonsai trees. Passing the foyer, the living room lowered two steps to a wide basin with pillows and mats spread out. A sliding glass door, already opened wide, led to the garden.

She walked through the house with wide eyes, and slightly opened mouth. As she crossed the threshold, she brought her hands to cover her mouth. Candles had been lit and hidden in nooks secreted throughout the leaves of dozens of green tropical plants. The moon took turns hiding behind dancing clouds, as a soft breeze hushed through, making the candles flicker.

"It is so B E A U T I F U L!" she gasped.

She stood there taking it all in. She turned to see him standing just behind her with the proudest smile anyone could imagine.

"You just maintain it? This is amazing!" she squealed.

"One does what one can." but she could see the pride, the way he stood.

The way he was dressed.

She took two steps towards him and kissed him on the lips. Then the kiss became a french kiss. He picked her up, still kissing her in a deeper kiss. He set her down, and she leaned back a little, but still in his arms.

"I'm your next paramour, aren't I?"

"Only if you truly want to be."

"Is that what this whole thing was? A grand seduction?"

"No, only now that you kissed me did the thought cross my mind." He spoke with sincerity.

She looked him in the eyes, and she knew she trusted him.

"I want to be your paramour, I want to be your lover!"

He leaned in and kissed, her immediately dipping in his tongue, and kissing her deeply. She responded by wrapping her hands around him. They stood there for several moments, kissing in a candle and moon lit garden. He picked her up, his strong hands cupping her bottom and raising her up. She felt giddy, being carried so easily. He grabbed a throw blanket off a patio chair, and took her to the center of the garden. He set her down and they spread out the blanket, then disrobed each other. She pushed him back, so he was laying down; she then crawled on top of him laying down. They continued kissing, his hands roamed her body, while she ran her fingers through his chest hair. Both were feeling inebriated with lust.

"I love your cologne, it makes me want you." she said between kisses.

He smiled, it had been his wife's favorite. "Thank you, my wife bought it for me as an anniversary gift."

She reached down, taking his meat in her hand, squeezing it several times before guiding it into her. She lowered down all the way, gasping as she reached the bottom.

"Mmmm, I thought you would feel good, but this is delicious!" she smiled.

He cupped her breasts since he had the chance; she pushed them into him. Her smile coaxed him on, her eyes twinkled in the soft light, "Make love to me."

He raised and lowered her body onto his manhood, she moaned, closing her eyes, biting her lip. Her hands on his chest, she used them to push down on him harder. Her first orgasm hit her unexpectedly.

"Ooo ooo hhh", her body shivered. He did not pause his pumping action.

"When you cum, I want it in my mouth, please?" she begged.

"Assuredly," he smiled up at her.

He stood up, her dainty body strapped to him like a backpack. His pumping action coincided with hers. Now standing, she put the palm of her feet behind his knees, using the top of his calves as support. Her body rising and falling against him. Her lady head suddenly gushed her feminine liquid.

"Ooo ooo hhh, again? Oh yes, please don't stop!" she smiled with closed eyes.

Her tiny frame rocked by more spasms, she felt the breeze on her skin, tickling the sweat from her body. She was in a meditative trance of erotic experience.

"Take me inside, I want you to make love to me on your marriage bed." she asked.

He carried her inside, never stopping humping her. She was so light, it was easy to do. As he entered his bed chamber, she spoke again.

"Fuck me how you fucked your wife!" she begged.

"If that's what you want," he intoned.

"I want, I want...more!" her body shaking with another release.

He lowered her onto the bed, splaying her hand above her, his manhood never disconnecting for her. He raised her legs, opening them wide. Now he started beating down on her body, his pelvis clapping against her wide open nether region.

" AAAHHH, YYYEEESSS!" she shouted.

His body thundered against her little body, he feared he might hurt her. But the way she moved, she was in an ecstatic experience. He felt his pulse, knew his wad was coming.

"I'm close, it's going to come out soon.." he informed her.

"My mouth is ready," she smiled, then opened it wide.

He pulled out, and brought it up, she leaned up bringing her face near. He was pinching his muscle, preventing his jizzum from escaping. When he let go, his white creamy milk shot across the open space into her waiting tongue. She wrapped her lips around his heated meat, sucking it all out. Her tongue danced over his tip, sending his muscles into a twitching frenzy.