30 Days or Bust: Day 12byl8bloom©
All characters in this story are age 18 or older.
Inwardly I groaned. A man in love is not supposed to be going around poking virgins. Sleeping with other people, she knew I did that, but Christ!
"I take it the lady is of legal age."
"She is eighteen. It is past time." Clarke looked affronted.
That's your opinion, buddy, I thought. What about what she wants? I had nothing to lose, so I asked. "And this is Nakita's wish?"
The man looked somewhat surprised. "Of course."
I had my doubts. Young people will do almost anything to win their parents' approval. I knew a thing or two about that.
Abruptly I stood. "Then if you have no other questions for me?"
"Not at this time." Clarke smiled. He had a huge mouthful of teeth.
I gave Leo a terse nod and got the hell out. Nakita followed me with her eyes as I strode past, but I refused to look at her. It was all I could do not to bolt from the building.
For the first time, I seriously considered quitting my job.
But I knew that anger was a poor judge of decisions. I stalked down the hall to my office and shut the door. I needed some time to cool off.
Barely had I hung up my jacket and loosened my tie when there was a knock at the door. Expecting Leo, I yanked it open, ready to tear into him.
Morgan Clarke stood there with a strange look on his face. He did not look so haughty now.
"Mr. Goodbody, may I speak with you, please?"
"Of course." I stepped back and gestured. "Please come in."
The man perched sideways on my empty desk.
"I must explain to you about my daughter."
He hesitated, finding the words. "Her mother died when she was ten years old."
"I'm sorry," I murmured.
Clarke nodded, accepting my condolences. "And I have done my best to raise her. As you can see, my little girl is now a woman."
The picture was coming into focus a little bit.
"She deserves to have a caring, positive experience. Obviously I cannot do it." He was almost pleading with me now. "Under normal circumstances, I would ask my brother. But he was killed at the same time as my wife. It was a terrible accident. No one lived through it."
He looked for a moment as if he might lose it. After a few moments, he recovered and drew in a deep breath.
"You are a stranger to me, but I feel my best course of action is to hire a professional. Nakita thinks you are--" he smiled faintly-- "cute. And as nearly as I can tell, you are a good man. You would be careful with her. Is it not so?"
I nodded. "Yes. That is so." The culture he described was not unfamiliar to me. In sociology classes I had learned that there were many traditions in which romance was not left to chance -- arranged marriages, for example. I simply had never met anyone who viewed incest, even between niece and uncle, as a matter of caring.
The new perspective was leading me to a change of heart. I reflected that few young ladies had the benefit of professional initiation. It wouldn't be easy, but maybe this could be managed like a mercy fuck. I sighed.
Morgan was watching my face.
"Okay, Mr. Clarke. I'll take care of your daughter."
"Thank you," he said, and meant it. He shook my hand warmly. "Thank you, sir."
* * *
That night I had a bad dream. I was in Nakita's bedroom. She was dressed like an exotic princess, adorned with a bracelet of tiger teeth around her bicep, and sparkling jewels flowing from her navel. Her eyes brimmed with expectation as I approached her.
Yet, even as I caressed her perfect body, I could not become aroused. I traced a fingertip along the furrow of her rib cage and watched her nipples harden. Through the sheer fabric, the dark brown circles invited my attention. I teased her, lightly brushing my hands across the sensitive bumps.
The girl moaned, anxious for more, and began to explore my chest and arms. I was patient. She was learning to touch a man. Soon enough, however, she found the limp sausage.
"It's her, isn't it? Your long-term assignment."
I could not deny the reason for my failure. "Yes."
"Then think of her now," Nakita whispered fiercely. "Make love to me as you would to her."
"Nakita... it isn't fair to you."
"But I need you! Need you ... need you ... "
The echo of her voice was in my mind when I woke. I sat for a long time, thinking about my life, and what I had done with it. Four years of college, gone for nothing. Parents and family who had no idea what I did for a living. The need for relative anonymity kept me from forming close friendships. I had enough money, but nothing in particular I wanted to spend it on.
Plus I was getting older all the time. How long would it be until my nightmare came true? Sure, a little blue pill could prop things up for a while, but the prospect of such a life depressed me immeasurably.
And now there was Lisa. It occurred to me that I wanted her as a sort of rescue, and this made me laugh out loud. The princess rescuing the handsome knight, for a change. But it was just possible that she could bring meaning to my life. I could settle down ... find a real job.
I thought of the old parable about the man whose beachfront home was flooded. A boat came by and the skipper offered the man a ride.
"No, thanks," said the man. "God will save me."
Conditions grew severe, the man climbed onto his roof, and a helicopter flew overhead. The crew threw down a rope, but the man wouldn't take it. "God will save me," he told them.
Finally the water rose all the way up and swallowed the man. He drowned and woke in the company of God.
"Why didn't you save me?" he demanded.
"I sent you a boat, and then a helicopter," God answered. "How much more saving do you want?"
I am not especially a believer in God, but I made up my mind at that point -- sort of. I was done going with the flow, which had landed me in sea of emotional nothingness. If Lisa would sail with me, I'd ask her to share a boat. Somehow, I would find a way.
* * *
My intended was unlocking her lab for the day. She smiled at me.
"Good morning. Come on in."
She locked the door behind us. The blinds were closed.
"Hey, you want some good news?"
"Sure, I'll take it. What's going on?"
Lisa looked very pleased with herself as she tapped her computer's keyboard. "Look."
On the screen I saw a chart that looked like a good stock market trend. Along the bottom edge was a series of dates, and the left axis seemed to be measuring something.
"Centimeters," I read.
"I'm gaining," she announced.
I stared, fascinated. "You've been measuring yourself?"
"Yeah. Want to see?"
Chattering like a magpie, my scientist dragged some equipment around on the bench, unlocked a drawer and pulled out a tape measure. Then, without any hesitation, she stripped off her shirt.
"Would you please unhook me?"
"Of course. I am a gentleman, you know." I stood behind her and swished the braid over her shoulder. After completing my duty, I reached around and fondled her lovely curves.
"Mmmm..." I murmured. "Feels like progress to me."
Playfully she smacked my hands away. "Silly one," she grinned at me. "Do you want to see this, or not?"
"Very much." I let go. Her buoyant mood was infectious. I paid attention as she demonstrated weighing and measuring each breast. I even volunteered to help but she declined.
"An important part of science is consistent measurement," she explained. "It's very important, because if measurements are taken in even slightly different ways, the results will be contaminated."
"I thought contaminated had to do with fruits and vegetables."
"No, it has to do with inaccuracy, too. In fact ..." She turned her gaze to the clock. "I'll have to do this later again today. Timing is everything."
I could not have agreed more, but for different reasons. Instead I pointed to the lines on the screen.
"Couldn't this be a result of your period?"
"Ah-ha." Lisa stabbed her forefinger toward the ceiling. "Good insight, Mr. Goodbody. But I am done with my cycle, and the measurement is still increasing."
"So it is."
I turned to take her in my arms. We smiled at each other. She was special; I couldn't figure out why no one had snapped her up. Maybe she would see me as special, too.
Timing was everything. I'd have to think of a plan. Maybe -- maybe I should wait until after she lactated. Then my professional obligations would be over with, and I could pursue her outside of the workplace.
As if reading my thoughts, she spoke: "I'm sorry I don't have time right now."
"You have class?" I didn't think so, but didn't know what else to say.
"No," she wrinkled her nose, "a meeting. Ick. How about this afternoon?"
"Sounds good," I agreed.
She had not stepped away from my embrace. It was wonderful to hold her, even if I had a shirt on. Her naked body was that much closer.
Lisa studied my face, which was so close to hers. "Mark..."
She swallowed and asked very quietly, "May I kiss you?"
I hesitated. "Okay, but no tongue," I warned.
The joke made her relax. "No tongue," she agreed.
She closed her eyes, tipped her head, and lifted her lips to mine. Her touch was butterfly-soft, as delicate as petals from a flower. I breathed in her scent, and got high.
It was impossible not to draw her close. My sudden erection demanded freedom from my trousers. I tightened my grip, letting her feel it.
If I kissed her any more I would lay her on the bench, right there by the microscope and digital scale, and tear off her panties. I knew it. I had to let go.
I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away.
"I'm sorry." My voice was rough.
She put her hands over mine. "I'm not."