Young Zoe Pt. 02

Glancing at her little hole, I saw the muscle yield...yield more...and then relax, completely.

She was waiting for it.

I doubted she wanted it, but that didn't matter because she was willing to grant it to me.

It was insane!

It was a fucking wonder!

All of the anger fled from me. The urgency to strike at something—anything—with my cock transformed into a kind of fierce compassion for Zoe. I didn't want her to brace herself; I wanted her to feel comforted and loved.

Helping her knees back, I guided her gently onto her tummy. Her body visibly slumped into the soft mattress. I covered her body with the cool, downy blanket, and I kissed her cheek.

She sighed, and in seconds, it seemed, her breathing grew rhythmic.

I smiled to myself. The poor kid's tuckered out, I thought.

I replayed in my mind what had just happened, still disbelieving it. She was supposed to stop me. She was supposed to tell me no and be affronted. But, Zoe didn't do any of those things; she trusted me. She offered herself as—I don't know—a sacrifice to my raging lust, I guessed. This girl was incredible.

Her trust in me was a richly gratifying notion. But, what followed was not so much: how in the hell am I going to break up with her?

And did I even want to anymore? Not anytime soon, at least.

A sound awoke me from my thoughts.

Zoe snored.

I slid my hand over her skin, and when the urge to sleep became too strong, I rolled away from her onto my back. I held my hand up to my face and cupped the air of my breath, taking in the aroma.

The fragrance of Zoe's pussy infused my face and breath. I didn't even care anymore about the massive, unused boner tenting the sheets beneath me.

I smiled and closed my eyes.

***

The first time I woke it as just after 2:00 am. Zoe's arm lay across my tummy. Her other arm had snaked between my pillow and my neck. I felt her breath on my arm. Her legs wrapped around my right leg, one over it, one under it with her feet locked. I was hers.

Gently and without waking her, I extricated myself and rolled to my left side.

I woke again at 7:48 am. Still on my left side, Zoe had me in a bear hug with her arms wrapped around my belly. One of her legs was thrown over the both of mine.

Annoyed, I began to unwrap myself from her grip, but I stopped. The soft chuff of her breath washed across my back.

It was, I supposed, kind of sweet how she wanted to hold me.

Fuck it.

Remaining tightly in her arms, I slept.

At some point in the morning, I rolled towards her, and we awakened just about simultaneously, face to face in each other's arms with our legs shuffled together. It was almost ten in the morning.

Zoe blinked open her eyes, saw me, smiled, and said, "Kiss me."

I rolled on top of her. Our tongues delved, and I dry-fucked her in the missionary while we made out.

She broke the kiss, whispering, "I really loved sleeping with you."

"Me, too."

She smiled. "Last night was nice."

"I loved it."

She searched my eyes for a moment. It looked like she had a question, but she never asked it.

"You okay?" I asked.

She nodded. "Just hungry."

I yawned and said, "I can make you some eggs. Scotty loves my scrambled eggs."

When she didn't respond, I glanced at her.

She smiled deviously and said, "I was actually thinking of putting something else in my mouth right now." She threw the bedding down, pushed me onto my back, and began kissing her way down, down, down.

Reaching the waistband of my boxers, she stopped kissing and pulled them off. Then, she climbed between my legs. Without using her hands, she took the tip into her mouth.

Gaining several inches of it, she settled her body into the mattress between my legs and snaked her arms under my ass. There, she drew me into a close hug, pushed her thighs against mine, and nestled her breasts into my crotch. It was as if my body were some source of heat on a frigid morning.

But, there was more to it. Every now and then she rubbed her legs against mine, and not infrequently, she adjusted her hug in a kind of massage-like, snuggling fashion. Whenever she did this, she hummed sweetly into my erection. It was very affectionate, her actions. My body, it seemed, was some kind of comfort blanket to her.

I liked it. Her child-like devotion to me and her eagerness to be near me was very erotic.

Her head bobbed slowly, and her lips clutched tightly on the shaft. As my climax became imminent, she did not alter her pace like the previous day at the hot tub. Maintaining the even, methodical movement, she never budged or flinched when I grunted her name or when my ass began to flex against her arms. She let my cum fill her mouth, and she swallowed as if it were her favorite ice cream. She hummed with rich pleasure and continued to nurse away on the tip, hoping for more, it seemed.

The head of my cock grew extremely sensitive as Zoe continued. I eventually had to pry her off, and she complained, "Aww!"

I laughed and brought her up to me so that I could hold her, feel her body against mine, and enjoy the moment.

She said, "Tell me one more time if I'm good at it."

I sighed, and said, "Not just good. Great."

"You mean it?"

"Yes! Isn't my cum evidence enough for you?"

She snuggled into me and said, "I might need to keep gathering evidence."

Fifteen minutes later, I ran downstairs and made her breakfast.

Afterward, we showered together. We kissed under the stream while I fingered her pussy until she came. Then, she turned around and presented her ass to me. Drawing me closer, she pumped some conditioner into her hand and grabbed my cock.

She held her hand in place over her ass, and I began to fuck it. The tip of my cock slid through her fingers and wedged between the two fleshy mounds. In no time, I pushed all the way through and, with my hands cupped full of tits, came between her ass cheeks in the steamy shower.

When we dried off, she checked her phone and told me she had to go—her Mom was asking.

She packed her things, leaving the bathrobe and the bikini, and I drove her to her car.

We kissed for a long time before she got out and said goodbye.

When her car pulled out, I drove around the mall parking lot for a while.

That, I said to myself, was the best sex I ever had, and I never even fucked her.

I pulled in, parked, and found a jewelry store in the mall. I spent $4,500 on a black choker necklace with a double-diamond pendant.

***

On Sunday afternoon, I made another decision. These tastes and smells—Zoe's flavors—didn't make any sense. It was not possible, and so it had to be me.

One of my undergrad friends was a therapist in town. I called him. After a bit of small talk and catching up on family and work stuff, I told him I had a brain question.

"Whaddaya got for me?" he asked.

"Can a person smell and taste things that aren't there?"

"Like a smell or taste hallucination?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Sure."

"What causes it?"

"Lots of things, actually, but stressors mainly—things that create emotional tension."

"Okay, but does it mean a person's crazy?"

"Not necessarily."

I sighed.

My friend said, "Okay, talk to me, bud. What's going on?"

I described it. I was honest, but it was tough to tell the truth because this guy, my friend, had a sixteen-year-old daughter. I gave him an opportunity to upbraid me for my admission, but he didn't, so I moved on, describing the tastes.

He didn't react to the Tootsie Rolls.

He said, "Huh" about the cotton candy.

He laughed at the cherry syrup, quickly interjecting that if I were a patient he would never laugh, but since I was a friend...well.

When I told him about the bubble gum, he absolutely lost it. I wasn't able to get anything meaningful out of him for more than a minute.

"Alright, fucker, are you done? Tell me what it means."

Still wheezing, he said, "Okay, okay. First, these are positive olfactory and gustatory images. Nine times out of ten, a smell or taste hallucination is negative—repulsive smells or tastes. So, your case is rare. I'd actually love to get you in my chair about this."

"Ah, no."

"Right. So, in your case, with the info that I have, I'd say this is classic subconscious projection."

"Explain, please."

"In your case, you recognize the inappropriateness of the relationship, and subconsciously, you're projecting these tastes and smells onto her—tastes and smells associated with childhood as a means of...well...."

"What?"

"Well, it's like I said, these are positive sensory images—sweet things, candy. So, it could be that your brain is reinforcing this relationship. It could also be that your brain is rejecting it—candy is for kids; you're not a kid. I suppose it would depend. I'd have to get you in my chair for a session or two."

"No. So, I'm not crazy?"

"No, but your subconscious is sending you very powerful signals about this relationship," he explained. "But, listen," he said, "It should be obvious to you, right? You're—what?—thirty-five, thirty-six?"

"Thirty-six."

"Right. She's eighteen. It's wrong, bud. I don't care how good the pussy is."

"Yeah."

But a little bit longer wouldn't be a big deal.

***

The next week raced. Zoe came over with Cora and Gabe on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Hearts pounding with excitement, we sneaked in little moments—looks, winks, kisses, and touches—wherever possible. I would sometimes pass her a secrete note—always on paper through a mock-stealthy exchange. Then, at some point in the afternoon, Zoe would stream an episode of a show the kids enjoyed, give them a snack, and meet me in the place I mentioned on the note.

There we would laugh, kiss, and explore each other's bodies more fully.

The only problem was that Scotty began to complain about his throat, and I wondered if he had caught a cold. He seemed tired and slept later than usual.

I had Scotty that weekend, so Zoe and I had to wait. We chatted on the phone Friday and Saturday nights. Early Sunday morning while we were talking, Zoe grew impatient. She said, "I can't take this anymore. I need to see you. I'm sneaking over."

"Zoe, I don't...."

She had ended the call.

Ten minutes later, her text came in: "Front door."

When I opened it, Zoe's eyes were blazing. She jumped at me, and we kissed. She broke it and said, "I need you right now."

We ran down to the basement. After a good deal of making out, she whispered that she wanted to sixty-nine with me. Zoe yanked off her shorts and underwear. I threw down my sweatpants just enough to bring out my erection. I laid on the floor. She climbed over me, but there was a small problem.

She was so short that when she sucked on me, I couldn't reach her pussy, and when I hauled her ass back to my face, she couldn't do anything more than lick the head of my cock.

We compromised. I took care of her first. She gently stroked me. After she came, she grew playful. No longer interested in the staggered sixty-nine, Zoe stripped naked, removing her shirt and bra. Then, she tugged at my clothes, and I helped her completely undress me.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"That's for me to know."

She rolled me onto my stomach.

I waited, feeling her crawl over me. A beat passed and then I felt the taut nub of her nipples graze my back. then, the weight and mass of her breasts fell upon me. Zoe dragged them along my spine, around my shoulder blades and back down again.

Sometimes, it was only her nipples; other times, it was the rest of her tits. When a few minutes passed, she descended to my ass, passing her nipples over each cheek and along the crease where they met.

She pulled at my hip, and I rolled over for her. Nestling between my legs, Zoe tickled my balls with a nipple. She dragged the nipple along the shaft, and she wiggled the nub against the head, making my cock wobble to and fro.

I gasped, and my erection contracted.

She was busy down there. She occasionally watched my face for a reaction, but she was much more interested in the interaction between her nipple and my cock. Sometimes she smiled to herself. Sometimes her brow furrowed with concentration and effort.

Once, she put herself on her hands and knees. Lowering her chest, she began softly batting my cock left and right between her breasts.

The anticipation was too much for me. "Zoe," I huffed. "Please."

She looked up at me and grinned.

I smiled back and then saw her dangling cleavage. "Don't move, Zoe."

Reaching toward her, I cupped the outsides of her breasts and drew them together. Then, pushing my feet into the floor, I raised my pelvis toward her breasts. My penis glided through the cleavage.

Zoe bent to watch.

When my cock emerged through her tits, she bent further, and I felt her lips kiss the tip.

I drew back and began to fuck those beautiful tits from underneath her. Every so often, I craved the feel of her lips and mouth, so I urged my cock higher, and Zoe would give it loving affection.

When my time drew near, I fed the shaft into her mouth, and she finished me. After I came, we snuggled and fell asleep.

I woke at four in the morning. Zoe had me wrapped up again. I nudged her awake, and she groggily sat up and got herself ready to head back home.

I escorted her to her car, and she kissed me goodbye. Then, she bent over and kissed the front of my pants, saying in a childish voice, "Goodbye to you, too." She gently dragged her index finger over the zipper of my pants with her finger, like a parent affectionately touching a child's nose.

When she rose, I stared at her, confused and maybe doubting her sanity a bit. I shook my head, and we burst into laughter. Through fits, she said, "I don't even know why I did that."

She texted me when she made it safely back in her apartment.

***

I told Jess how Scotty had been fairly tired all weekend.

"Growth spurt?" she asked.

"That's what I thought, except he still sometimes complains about his throat," I replied. "Should I take him to the doctor?"

"You say there's no fever. I don't know."

"Right, and there are times when he says his throat is fine."

Jess didn't respond.

"We'll see how it goes this week," I suggested.

"Okay."

During the week, it was the same thing. The kid seemed more tired than usual, and just when I grew concerned enough to watch him closely for a while, he would seem like his old, energetic self.

Zoe and I had another fun week of secret make-out sessions on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, but we were looking forward to a weekend alone.

On Friday night, I astonished Zoe when I gave her the necklace.

"Are these...are they....?"

"Diamonds. Yes."

Her jaw fell open. She put it on in the vanity area, seeing herself in the mirror. Touching it, she turned to me and slowly pulled off all of her clothes, leaving only the necklace.

She came to me. Without a kiss, she stripped me naked and walked to the bed. Sprawling across it on her back, she waved me over. When I joined her, she drew me close. I watched while she took the sides of her own breasts, squeezed them together and waited.

I was right. She looked stunningly beautiful in diamonds.

I climbed over her, supporting myself with my hands on the bed, and slid my cock between her breasts. She watched my face the entire time, smiling in a way the seemed grateful at times and adoring at others.

It was another incredible day of good food, playfulness, and laughter. We never fucked, and I didn't care.

***

Zoe wanted to get together on Saturday night, but I had been invited to my boss's daughter's wedding, and it was one of those things that I needed to attend.

I met up with several of my fellow attorneys, and we sat together during the service. My boss had paid for a free bar at the reception, which is a dangerous thing to do when there are attorneys present. My colleagues and I drank and looked at women. It was a blast, actually.

There were beautiful, thirty-plus year-old women all over the place. These women would fuck, I thought.

I wondered how Zoe might look in a formal gown.

Like a goddess of fertility, I decided. Like a sex kitten. Around these people, she would be the porn star at the A-list after-party.

It would have been almost laughable, really, to have brought her as a date to an event like this. Sure, I might have had on my arm the woman every guy in the place dreamed of fucking, but at what cost? People who didn't know me would assume she was my daughter—until she kissed me or we danced. People who did know me would be astonished by the flaunting transparency of my lecherousness.

"Eighteen?" They would say, turning towards me. "Eighteen?"

I imagined awkward conversations with other guests where, in her inexperience and innocence, she came off as stupid, even ignorant.

And yet, I thought, she was smart. She might actually be able to handle these people, given some time and a few simpler social encounters with them.

A tall redhead passed by me, creamy white and skinny. Piles of curly hair. A tiny ass perched high on top of long, shapely legs.

I smiled.

She returned it.

What the fuck was I doing with Zoe?

It was time.

***

On Sunday, Jess called, telling me the Scotty had slept almost the entire day—very uncharacteristic. The kid was sick. Jess wanted to do the exchange that night, so I could take him to the doctor on Monday. She needed to be at work.

I could stay home with him Monday and work from the office Tuesday, so I agreed to the plan.

Jess set up an appointment for Monday in the late afternoon, and we did the exchange.

The amount Scotty slept alarmed me. But, things got really scary when I quit looking down his throat and started feeling around it. There was a hard lump down there, and it wasn't his Adam's apple.

Immediately, I took him to the emergency room, leaving a message for Jess.

She arrived while we were still in the waiting room a few hours later.

When, finally, a nurse called for Scotty, we all went in. Jess and I sat side-by-side and watched the doctor quickly narrow in on the lump. His somewhat gregarious bedside manner vanished, and he grew silent.

Jess and I glanced at one another, and fear began to take root.

The doctor ordered an x-ray.

Jess, meanwhile, called Scotty's regular doctor and was able to set an appointment for the next morning based on the situation.

At the same time, I texted Zoe to cancel her Tuesday visit with Cora and Gabe because of Scotty's illness. She wrote back, hoping that he felt better soon and that they would all miss us.

The nurses brought Scotty back to us, and he slumped into Jess's lap. We waited about forty-five minutes before the doctor came in. It was hell, the waiting. As the doctor sat across from us in a rolling stool, Jess reached out to me, and we held hands.

The doctor saw that Scotty was asleep and whispered, "There's a tumor, but we can't know for sure whether it's benign through x-ray. There'll have to be a biopsy."

Jess said, "Then it might be...it might be...."

"Cancerous, yes, there is that possibility, but we can't know without lab results."

"Can you do that now? Here?" I asked.

"We can, and I think we should."

We spent another two hours in the hospital only to find out that the results would not be available until the next day. I asked Jess if she wanted to stay over. It had happened a few times in the past, and she always stayed in the guest bedroom. She accepted.

Poor Scotty had a bandage over the small incision in his neck. We all went back to my house. It was nine in the evening. Scotty slept. Jess and I both had big drinks of whiskey in the kitchen.

Fear was like an invisible fog, permeating the house. I couldn't see it, but I felt its thick, sticky presence. One breathed it in, and it remained in the body. Fear couldn't be exhaled.