America's Favorite Virgin

"Good morning," he grinned. It didn't matter what she wore or how she looked, she was always delectable. Today was no exception and the baggy purple tee shirt that engulfed her to mid thigh prompted Charles to remember all the bare skin underneath. There hadn't been any kisses, at least nothing more than pecks and quick hugs since they had come home. Charles realized that his role in their relationship might have become more fatherly than lover and if he was relegated to caregiver, so be it. It didn't stop his dick from needing to be adjusted every so often.

"You want some scrambled eggs?"

"Yes, please." Anastasia cocked her head and gave him one of her adorable, pouty bottom lip smile that made him want to bite her just a little. "So what are you teaching me today, Charlie?"

He laughed, of course she had known.

Anastasia counted on her fingers. "Let's see, so far, it's been driving down the street, parking the car in the garage, how to work Netflix."

"Is it silly?" Charles asked as he pushed the spatula around the eggs.

Anastasia's eyes sparkled, "No, Charlie, it's the most wonderful thing anyone's ever done for me. No one ever thought I'd be on my own. I was just gonna be a little girl forever!"

Good, she understood and Charles reached for two plates. "Well, then I thought we'd go grocery shopping today."

She shifted her hair from one shoulder to the other. "Perfect, that seems very practical," she took her eggs and the fork. "Can we go buy some clothes today too, Charlie? I'm tired of dressing like a little girl."

He nodded and touched her under her chin. His little girl, all grown up. "Sure, honey, anything you want."

"I think I need some money too, Charlie. Just spending money, you know?"

Jesus, the girl was worth billions and she didn't have a penny to her name. In fact, she didn't even have a wallet as far as Charles knew. No driver's license, no credit cards and not even a cell phone since she'd left the compound.

Parallel parking could wait, he decided. "Tell you what, finish your eggs and get dressed. We've got some shopping to do.

Anastasia gulped down the eggs and was dressed in under ten minutes. Charles handed her the keys to the Toyota Corolla at the bottom of the stairs. "Today, you back out of the garage," he said with more confidence than he felt. Honestly, he gave her a fifty fifty shot at hitting the garage door or scraping the shit out of his Mercedes. Didn't matter, he told himself as she took the keys, things were replaceable.

Not her. There wasn't another Anastasia.

Charles walked behind her and cleared his throat while he moved his half hard cock in his khakis. She was in cut off shorts once again and even though he'd never let himself spy on her after that night, that didn't mean that he'd forgotten. He could still see her in his mind's eye, dancing and stripping. These cut offs at least came down mid thigh. That still exposed the whole back of the knee and the calf and all of that golden, satin skin that he'd felt wrapped around his body when she'd asked him to fuck her.

This wasn't going to get him anywhere, Charles reminded himself.

He strapped himself into the passenger side and reminded her in a low, calm voice, "Check your side mirrors, honey."

Anastasia nodded and did as he asked. She let the car roll and then jerked the brake and then roll and jerk until she was at the bottom of the driveway and declared in a singsong voice, "I got out of the garage, Charlie! I did it!"

He'd only pressed the invisible break on his side a little bit, Charles thought as he patted her hand in congratulations. "See, you're doing great. You'll be ready to go for your driver's license test in no time."

Anastasia put the car in drive and drove ten miles under the speed limit all the way to the strip mall on Waukegan Road. "They've got plenty of clothes stores here," Charles shrugged and pointed at a newly vacated parking spot. "I mean, nothing fancy."

"Nothing fancy is just fine, Charlie," Anastasia said as she pulled in nice and easy. She did it this time with no jerky brake and Charles beamed with pride. "Just regular clothes that a girl my age would wear is perfectly fine," she told him once the car was in park. Her long, blonde hair sparkled in the sun and her dimples were out in full as she smiled at him.

She leaned in for a peck, just a brush of lips on lips and it hadn't been more than that. Just her fingers on his arm, just a whisper of her lips and Charles knew that he had no choice to but to wait, maybe forever.

She wasn't just punctual and a quick learner, she was decisive. Charles was in charge of filling the cart as Anastasia emerged from the dressing rooms with stacks of jeans and tee shirts and shorts. There were a handful of dresses as well but he noticed that these were plain, not the frilly, flowered dresses that she had worn at the compound. It didn't matter though, Charles thought when she showed him a plain, navy blue shirt dress. She couldn't stop being adorable and sexy.

"Isn't it nice that your dad is taking you shopping?" a cashier asked as Charles fished out a credit card from his wallet.

Anastasia could have rolled with it but she set her small hand on his wrist and corrected the woman. "He's not my father, he's Charlie," as if that were all the explanation necessary.

As Charles put the bags in the trunk, Anastasia asked, "What are we, Charlie?"

"What do you mean, honey?"

"I mean, when people ask, and I'm sure they will, what are we?" Straight to the point, none of the psychological babble bullshit that usually came with defining a relationship.

She was his client. She was his dream girl. She was a girl and a woman who haunted his imagination. She was business.

Fuck, Anastasia was everything and all of it was too much.

"What do you want to tell people, honey?" he asked and suddenly, she was so close. Her breasts brushed his arm and Charles felt the hot wave of need wash over him. He could see round, bouncing swells of pale flesh and pink buds that were hot and hard and oh so sensitive.

"Can I say that you're my friend, Charlie?" she asked but friends didn't kiss like this, none, at least that Charles had ever had. It was a soft kiss with open mouths. Her breath in his mouth made him shiver in the hot sun and when he brought her to him, one hand was on her waist and the other was on her bottom. God, her cheeks were firm and squeezable and no wonder they jiggled with every step in the shorts. They jiggled in the jeans she'd bought too and Charles could hardly wait for autumn if she was going to wear them that tight.

Her tongue and his, melting and softly coming together and with a long breath deep down inside of him, and then she was gone.

"Friends it is," he said in a voice that was back in a living room in Dallas.

***

Charles stopped in front of her open door. He popped his head in and told her, "Good night, honey." The kiss still lingered, on his lips and on his brain and it had felt like he had to remind himself how to do the most rudimentary of things the rest of the day. Step right, now step up, now sit down, he was like a robot on the fritz, his circuits fried out from a kiss.

"Come in, Charlie," Anastasia invited him into the spare bedroom that had become her bedroom. She'd already put all of the clothes away. All of the empty bags had been neatly folded into one bag that he imagined she'd put in the recycling in the morning. "Can I change this room?"

If she wanted to change the room, that meant that she planned on staying, Charles thought. Good news for him because they'd never discussed an end date or what happened after Labor Day. The summer seemed to be going by awfully quickly.

"Sure."

"I can do anything I want with it?" she asked in a voice that seemed to suggest that she thought he might say no.

How could anyone say no to her? Fuck, Charles thought as he looked her over. The more adult clothes included a nightie that was more of a slip. It was black with slender straps. It was nylon material that looked very grown up in an old fashioned way. It almost seemed like she was playing dress up again. She wore just the slip and her straight hair hung down around her face like a veil. His body ached to touch her.

"Anything you want."

"Can we paint it pink?" she wanted to know and wound a piece of hair around her finger, "I know, it's girly but I do love pink."

Charles took a seat on the edge of the bed, that was as far as he trusted himself. "Honey, you can have it any color you want. And we'll buy furniture. We'll make it," he wanted to say homey but he wasn't sure how Anastasia would feel about that, considering that her last home had been terrifying. "Nice," was the word he settled on.

"Charlie?"

"Yes."

"Will you teach me how to touch myself?"

Wait, he couldn't have heard that. Somehow, he must be sleeping and his dick must be controlling the scenario. "Honey?" he asked, breathing way too hard.

"Teach me how to make myself," she paused and whispered, "feel good?" She didn't want to say cum or maybe, god, Charles thought, maybe that word wasn't in her vocabulary. She looked away and bit her bottom lip. "I've never done that."

Charles wore a tee shirt and pajama bottoms and his cock had already made a tent in the pants. Teach her how to cum? God, could he? He'd been fairly certain that he'd made a woman or two cum in his life but it had been quite mysterious. It had taken quite a bit of study with careful fingers and his mouth. Of course, only a fool would say no to the opportunity to fondle her and Charles wasn't a fool.

Trust, she trusted him and this was something so big. Charles couldn't imagine ever being in a position to ask. He'd take the best care of her.

"I'll try," he promised, he was a little out of breath already. "Do you want me to keep the light on?"

Anastasia nodded, "Yes, I want to see, Charlie."

She eased back across the mattress and lay her head on the pillow. Charles followed on his hands and knees, he crawled to her. "Can I kiss you, little girl?" he asked as she fanned her hair out beneath them. He saw that her nipples had risen in the slip and stood at attention in the clingy material.

"Oh, yes, Charlie," she murmured. He caught her upper lip with both of his and this kiss was something altogether different. Up until now, Anastasia had been the initiator and Charles was always surprised when she decided to bestow him with her affection.

This was Charles' kiss. It was deep, it was deliberate, it was a slow study of a young girl's mouth and his tongue took its time. He licked her upper lip and he melted into her girlish sigh. He tasted her full, bottom lip and he wondered if she was getting wet from this. Wet like he was hard, which meant that she was soaking the white sheets below and the back of the slip was damp all the way through from her dripping crevice.

He moaned at that thought and it was right into her mouth. Charles nibbled her lips and brought his hand slowly from the bed to her body, from her waist to the curve of her breast. She sighed and it was just an inch to her nipple. Charles traversed the distance and circled her bud through the clingy fabric. God, they were so perfect and so perfectly hard and Charles imagined, so perfectly sensitive and had never been touched like this before.

He gulped, never been touched. None of her, not one inch, ever been touched before and now she was his, all his for the taking. She begged for it. Charles broke the kiss and asked, "Would you take the slip off for me?"

Anastasia breathed hard and fast and pulled the nightie off and slowly placed it on the bed. Bare and beautiful, Charles had seen her body on the computer but this was completely different and his mouth opened but no sound came out. He was simply awestruck.

Her breasts bounced and moved back into their perfect place as she lay down once more for him. Yes, her areolas were somewhere between pink and tan and her nipples grew more pink, until you got to the very tips and those were dark pink. She really was perfect, Charles thought as he traced the left one with his fingertips. He listened to her whimper like he'd always dreamed that she would.

Charles kissed her jaw, then her throat. His mouth led him on a journey across her collar bones and down her décolletage as his fingers persisted in the slow, easy circle. "Yes, Charlie," she whispered, lost in his world. It was easy to hear in her voice, her surrender to his fingers.

Charles dick pulsed as he touched her. The head was up, over the waistband of his pajama pants and he made a wet spot on her bed with his need. Fuck, he could cum just touching her like this. He could explode just touching her breasts, let alone all of the other delights that he had never stopped feeling on his body since that night in the bathroom. He panted into her satin skin, "Now you." Charles couldn't help his hand from wandering down. "Touch your nipples while I stroke your beautiful, little pussy," his voice was a growl and Charles felt the sharp sting of want.

He was an animal now.

Did she even know? How could anyone? She was a girl who was so untouched that she didn't even pleasure herself. How could she know what the animal instinct in a man was like or when she was perilously close to the line that divided reason from pheromones?

Charles moved down the bed and groaned as Anastasia copied his hands on her breasts. She cupped the pale flesh and then wound her dainty, little fingers to the tips of her nipples. Back and forth, back and forth she caressed her nipples for him. It was as if her body had taken over all decisions and he watched as her thighs opened wide to invite Charles to her delights.

His fingers hesitated, his eyes delved along every inch and his dick strained to get at her. Her sweet, little cherubic pussy was right there for the touching. Her lips weren't quite so tiny now, they seemed to have bloomed and parted and Charles made a noise that was pure desire. Did she even know that she was horny? Fuck, she didn't but she was about to and if Charles had anything to say about it, she'd need this again and again.

"Baby," he whispered as his fingertips found her and gently caressed her mound. He felt the whisper soft bit of hair, damp and slippery and he followed the path down to her succulent folds.

"Charlie," she murmured and continued to touch her nipples. Her face was intense as she studied his hand between her slender thighs.

God she was beautiful, Charles thought, open and perfect and that wonderment on her face made this feel wrong. But there was nothing that he wanted more than to watch her big, blue eyes widen in surprise as she burst from pleasure in his hand.

He slid his index finger down her slit and the feel of her wetness there made Charles gasp. Jesus, she was soaked and so hot and as he traced the line back up to her clitoris and he knew why. Her clit was full and pulsed with every touch. Anastasia instinctively pushed her hips up and purred when he touched her. Her tiny fingers rolled both nipples at the same time and her hips insisted on more. They pushed up and brushed along his skin for friction. She humped his arm and her body demanded that he keep his fingers right there, at the center of her new pleasure.

"Feel that?" he asked and knew that the answer was yes as he picked up the pace on her pearl. His index finger now joined by his middle finger and both were sloppy wet with her teenage juices as he eased them quickly back and forth over her clit. It sang in his hand. It trembled and grew from his touch and Charles kept his eyes on her face now, he wanted to see the expression on her face when she came.

She was a doll with pink cheeks as her pleasure mounted. Anastasia made the softest little cries in his arms, little whimpers of surrender and want and a little girl's shock and amazement at the intensity of new pleasure. It was dirty to do this, dirty and sweet all at the same time and she trembled under his touch. She wet him with a steady stream of her liquid. She looked so young like this. Anastasia no longer watched his hand either. She looked him in the eye and Charles hoped that she kept her eyes on him when she came.

He felt it, the quickening of her inner thighs. She gasped, with the summoning between her legs, she couldn't help but arch her back and push that tiny, little butt in the air. "Charlie," she cried out and then just a whimper, little cries, almost a sob as she shuddered in his hand.

Charles felt the liquid gush between his fingers and he kept the tempo going. Her orgasm peaked and valleyed and her body was limp and then at attention once again as he kept her coming.

Anastasia was even more beautiful when she was coming.

He needed to watch though. He wanted to see all of it and Charles had never heard anything more perverted than his own voice as he guided her, "Now touch yourself. Show me."

He moved his hand to make room for her and while she found her clitoris for him, Charles licked his two fingers. God, he could cum like this, watching and tasting. It was just the sweetest, most delicate flavor of her little girl cum. She was like new wine and he didn't want to waste a drop.

"Take your clothes off too, Charlie," Anastasia said in her breathy twang. He could see her index finger, just the pad, make the smallest circle around her deeply red clit.

"Me?" he sounded so stupid, stupid and out of breath and the head of his cock let go a long string of precum because of course, it knew exactly what she was asking.

"I want to see you too," she said. She had the sexiest moan as her hips curled. Her thighs opened wider to make room for him. "I've never seen a man naked before," she told him in the smallest voice that shouldn't have ever seen a man naked before.

Charles was stunned but his hands knew what to do. The tee shirt came off over his head. The pants were pushed down and then off, kicked into her blanket and forgotten because once he knelt naked between her legs, he knew that this was right.

No, it was very, very wrong but it felt so right, so perfectly natural. She was his sweet, little girl and she should see exactly what she did to him, what she'd done to him since the first minute he'd seen her face.

Charles gripped his cock at the base and watched as Anastasia made a quicker circle around her clit. "Oh god, baby," he called to her. His right hand squeezed and moved back and forth, all the way down and then all the way to the head. He dripped a sticky river of precum on America's favorite virgin, right down the center of her lovely, lacy, inner lips. Charles was going to cover her virgin center with all the cum that he'd been saving for her since she'd danced and stripped for the cameras.

"Baby, little baby," he muttered, his eyes glazed over. All there was was Anastasia's naked pussy and her slippery lips and her two little fingers that worked back and forth over her clit. Every move made her inner thighs shake and it felt as if her orgasm reached up from her body and entered his own.

Once again though, it was her eyes that made his need spill over. Those innocent eyes that he'd lost himself in that first afternoon and there had been nothing but her ever since. Charles could feel his heart melt along with the last of his willpower.

His cock jolted in his hand and he felt the first wave. There was no turning back no and his sphincter squeezed and his balls were hot and close and full of so much cum for her.

Anastasia cried out. She quivered and there was another little series of whimpers. He could feel her calves shake as her second orgasm came, even deeper than the first, even more wild and free and uninhibited. She was just a young, naked girl touching herself and his body exploded with the sight of her coming undone.