Young Zoe

Zoe was coming back tomorrow. There was no doubt about that. She would be inside my house again, and soon. I needed to make a decision.

I thought about her that night.

Previously, my sexual fantasies involved long, skinny, and leggy women under me in the missionary position, gasping and calling my name with their legs wrapped around me or over my shoulders.

Now, I could only imagine Zoe on all fours awaiting my cock. I liked the idea of her big young tits rocking as I drove myself inside her. I loved the idea of her ass pressed against me.

In the secret hours of the night, while I imagined Zoe, I had dreams I had never before dreamed. I wondered what her tiny asshole looked like inside those beautiful round spheres.

No, I thought. It's already gone too far.

She was welcome at my house, but I was not about to engineer some kind of situation where I might have her to myself, thinking the kids would be safe without us for a while.

***

There was a package on my front porch on Wednesday morning, and I remembered having ordered a swimsuit for Zoe.

I opened it and drew out the skimpy garment that cost $150.

It was called a "Strappy Halter Cutout Brazilian Two Piece Bikini." It was black, and both the top and bottom were adorned with crisscrossing thin straps in addition to the main coverings. The back of the bottoms was not quite a thong, but it rode up the ass quite high.

I guffawed as I held it up on its hanger before my eyes. There was no way she would wear this. It was the kind of swimsuit advertised in lingerie magazines and sold only to idiots like me.

I shook my head at my own stupidity and tossed it in the bathroom.

Scotty and I built a big fort in the playroom, and then I tackled a new contract review.

Zoe arrived with the kiddos just before eleven that morning. Gabe and Cora ran up to the house ahead of Zoe. She remained in the car for a minute, putting some final touches on her makeup.

The kids ran off into the playroom, and she approached the front porch.

Her eyes had added definition. Her lips looked full, wet, and lustrous. Her red tank top clung to her breasts.

"You look gorgeous," I said, and I kissed her. She opened her mouth, and I tasted her with my tongue.

Tootsie Rolls again, I thought. What the hell?

When I drew back, she whispered, "I really like how you kiss me."

"Wish I could do it more," I responded, "but I need to knock out some work." I walked out of the entryway, stopping by the kitchen threshold. I turned back to her. "You know, if the kids are safe and happy, feel free to visit me in the office anytime."

Twenty minutes later, she quietly slipped inside the office door. "We added to your fort," she said. "Now, they're playing games inside it on Scotty's tablet."

I nodded, stepping around my desk and locking the door behind her.

When I stood in front of her, Zoe's eyes took in my frame and build. I loomed over her like a giant.

She swallowed, looking up at me with big eyes behind her glasses.

I put my hand on her shoulders. Squeezing them gently, I said, "Zoe, tell me what you're feeling."

"Nervous," she said.

"Feel my heartbeat," I told her.

She placed her palm over my heart.

"See?" I said, "I'm nervous, too."

This was a half-truth. I wasn't quite nervous; I was electrified with excitement. I hated myself for desiring her, but that self-loathing was a noisome mosquito. My lust for Zoe was a churning tornado. I wanted to tell her—warn her, really. I wanted to say, "Zoe, I am going to bend you over this desk and fuck you."

I wanted her lips. I wanted her tits. I wanted her ass. I wanted her pussy. I wanted to taste every inch of her body and fuck every place my cock would fit. I wanted to see the expression on her face when I drove myself inside her for the first time. I wanted to see how she looked with a cock between her pouting lips. I wanted to see my cock jutting between her big tits. I wanted to see her eyes when for the first time in her young life she felt semen flooding her body.

I could skip the kissing, I thought. I could turn her around, kneel behind her, and rip down her shorts and panties. I could push her torso down on my desk and gorge on her pussy from behind with that big, beautiful baby-fat ass in my face.

The urge to strike, to take her like that right now, burned in me. I felt the muscles in my arms quivering with power. The sensation was not unlike a bow, drawn and ready—the arrow poised to leap out with reckless speed. My mind was not laboring on the decision to act on these impulses or not. No, my mental faculties poured into withholding the might of my lust, stopping myself from releasing the bent bow and striking her.

I was fortunate to have a great poker face. I knew that, to her, I probably looked as chill as a guy on a beach with a frosty beer in his hand.

Inside, I fought back my urges, convincing myself that the only way to have the things I craved was to take it slow.

I drew her to me. Willing my lips and tongue to be soothingly tender, I kissed her. She sighed, venting a faint moan. The muscles of her shoulders and back began to soften under my touch.

She was relaxing and accepting my advance, I recognized. Maybe I can surprise her, just a little bit, impart a sense of danger.

I continued kissing her, but I nudged her backward. She took a few steps, and I pursued. Her back met the wall. At that moment, I took her hands in mine. Raising her arms above her head, I gently pinned her wrists to the wall with one hand. I broke the kiss and dove into her neck, kissing, sucking, and nuzzling the tender flesh.

With my free hand, I raised her shirt and touched her bare belly, skin to skin. I slid my index finger under the front waistband of her shorts and panties. Then, using a firm finger-spreading motion, I massaged up her tummy until one of her bra-covered breasts filled my hand.

"So sexy," I whispered while my lips searched for a new place to kiss on her supple neck.

She moaned.

I released her wrists and placed them around the back of my neck. Pulling my lips away from her neck, I gazed into her eyes.

She seemed to be waiting expectantly for my next move. She wanted me in control.

I gripped Zoe's thighs just under her ass and lifted. She wrapped her legs around my hips.

Her breasts heaved with her every breath.

Without breaking eye contact, I brought my lips toward hers at the same time that I urged my hips forward. The timing could not have been improved upon. The moment my tongue slid into Zoe's mouth, the rigid bulb jutting from inside my pants pressed against the crotch of Zoe's shorts. The give at that place felt right. I had not missed.

She moaned loudly into my mouth.

Dry fucking or humping—whatever people want to call it—is a game for young men. I hadn't dry fucked a girl, I thought, in ten years, maybe more. There's nothing comfortable about it for the boy, but it does show ardent desire, and it hints at the things to come. I wanted to convey those ideas to Zoe.

The discomfort I felt as I humped Zoe enabled me to release some of the angry lust that had been surging inside me. Her back bounced off the wall, and she panted as I pushed against her. At some point, Zoe began kissing me back with equal fervor. I ramped up the pace. She signaled her acceptance with moans.

A minute later, I relaxed the speed and force of my thrusts and let Zoe back down. With soft kisses on her lips, cheeks, and neck, I ended the encounter.

I whispered, "You are the sexiest woman I've ever known."

She stared me as if astonished. I kissed her.

"Should we check on the kids?" I asked.

She nodded, her face pink with emotion.

I said, "I'll be along in a minute."

She grinned and left.

I licked my lips, wondering if her pussy tasted like candy, too.

***

"What is this?"

"Oh! I forgot I left that in here," I said. "It was meant as a gift—for you—but when I saw it, I didn't think you'd like it."

She held the bikini up for herself to re-examine. "A gift? For me?"

"Yes."

She turned to me. "I like it. I want to put it on."

Surprised, I nodded and left the bathroom.

When she called me back in, I stopped at the threshold and could not stop the smile from unfurling across my face.

She smiled, too.

I said, "That suit makes me want to talk dirty."

Zoe laughed. She looked at herself and said, "You got the sizes right. How did you know?"

"Well, I am either a good guesser, or I had a look at your bra and panties without you knowing."

Her eyes widened and a shocked smile appeared.

"Come on. Kiddos are waiting for us."

***

After another silliest dive contest and several other games, Zoe and I went to the hot tub, leaving the kids to enjoy the pool, but they followed us.

In fact, they followed us for most of the rest of the day. Clearly, the two of us enjoyed one another's company so much that the kids wanted to be around. It was true. By late afternoon, my face felt strained from grinning. Zoe told me her stomach hurt from laughing.

There were a few moments where we found opportunities to dart into an empty room and kiss. I think the playful innocence of it, while mildly disappointing to me, delighted and energized Zoe.

Once Gabe and Cora were packed into the car, Zoe climbed out under the guise of having forgotten something. Scotty and Cora started making faces against the car window at one another. Zoe ran up to me, and we went into the front entryway where we kissed and touched. I held her ass in my hands, and she surprised me. She grabbed mine again. We laughed and our tongues tasted one another.

She broke the kiss and said, "I left the suit here or my Mom might find it."

"I'll sleep with the crotch over my face like an oxygen mask tonight," I responded.

She stepped back, stunned and checking, it seemed, how serious I had been.

I grinned.

She burst into laughter. "Oh, my gosh!"

I pulled her body next to mine. "I'm glad you like the suit. You looked amazing in it."

"I love it," she whispered in my ear. Then, she kissed my cheek and ran to her car, waving.

***

I took Scotty to the mall that night where I bought Zoe the latest, priciest, and according to the young shop assistant, "most super-cool" makeup set. Then, I asked a retail assistant to help Scotty find some new pajamas while I delved into the lingerie department. I found matching panties and a bra that fired my imagination.

They were red with floral lacing. The bra hugged and lifted the breasts together. The bottoms had the tiniest, angel hair waistband and, though not quite see-through, definitely hinted at the skin underneath.

Inspired and a bit out of control, I bought Scotty's new p.j.'s, and we ran over to the bath area where I bought Zoe a plush, fuzzy bathrobe.

Wrapping the gifts at home, I decided it would be a little over the top to give her all three gifts at once. I would give her one tomorrow and then wait and see. Since the swimsuit I had given her was practically like a bra and panties, I decided on the make-up set.

***

They came over after lunch on Thursday to go swimming, but Cora forgot her suit. Zoe said she was going to go back to get it.

"Let's all go," I said. "We can fit in my car."

The kids were excited. Zoe looked a bit concerned.

"Give us a second, gang," I told them. "Head into the playroom."

To my astonishment, they all did it without questions. Zoe had them well-trained to listen to adults.

I closed the door behind them.

I said, "Hey if you don't want me to go, I'll stay."

"We live in an apartment. It's embarrassing."

"I've lived in apartments before. It's no big deal."

"My Mom doesn't make much money."

"I don't care how poor or rich you are, Zoe."

"You won't think less of me?"

"Never," I assured her, and I brought her to me for a long kiss.

She smiled; we all went.

It was a three-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment on the corner, ground level of a series of apartment complexes. The rooms were small. Zoe's room had a window to the rear parking lot; she would not let me see inside.

I kidded her about it, but I didn't push the issue.

Cora and Gabe's room sat next to Zoe's, separated by the bathroom. The kitchen and family room were in the middle. The master bed and bath lay on the other side.

I saw a picture of Carol, Zoe's mother. She was a skinny brunette with short hair—a woman whose face told the story of a life made harder by a few shitty husbands, I thought. A nearby picture of Zoe from elementary school made me wince with guilt.

They weren't really poor unless one compared them to me. Everything in the place screamed, "Wal-Mart!"

But, who was I to judge?

They seemed comfortable and happy. Cora and Gabe were good kids. Could I have raised kids as well under those circumstances—three kids and a poorly-paying job? I doubted it. The difference between Carol and I was a few lucky breaks, and I understood that.

We left with Cora's suit and returned to my house for an afternoon swim. We had a good time in the water.

After the kids changed over, we put on some silly videos and went to change, ourselves. I left her gift in the bathroom under her stack of clothes.

Waiting for a reaction, I sat on the bed.

She called my name from inside.

"What's up, Zoe?"

"Can you come in here?"

I opened the door. She had a towel wrapped around herself at chest level. She was holding the gift.

"Is this for me?"

I nodded. "Open it."

Grinning broadly, she sat on the tub wall, crossed her legs, and opened it. Her eyes widened. "Oh, my gosh! I've actually been saving up for this! How did you know?"

"Lucky guess, actually."

She opened the make-up box and rifled through the various tubs, brushes, tubes, and applicators. "Thank you so much!"

"You don't need any makeup to look beautiful, Zoe, but I thought you might enjoy it."

She stood and came over. We kissed.

When she broke away, I said, "It won't raise any questions at home, will it?"

She shook her head.

"Good," I said, "Hey, I know we only have a few minutes before we need to get back to the kids, but I want to see your body. I dream about it at night. I want to see how beautiful you are from head to toe."

Her smile vanished; her eyes grew wide. "Really?" she asked.

"Please, Zoe, but only if you want to show me," I said, placatingly.

She swallowed and uttered, "You first?"

"Want me to?"

She nodded, backing up.

I untied and drew down my trunks, kicking them to the side. An erection was just beginning to form.

She stared at my cock, and then looked at me.

I raised my head slightly: now you.

Zoe untucked the corner of her towel from her armpit, and it slipped to the floor.

Her breasts didn't fall to her sides, but they remained poking forward. They were, I thought, each the size of Scotty's magic eight ball toy. Zoe's nipples were wide and bright, almost hot pink. They looked photoshopped. Her pussy bore a small, circular tuft of dirty-blonde curls, not much larger than a fifty-cent piece.

I walked to her, and I pulled our bodies together when we kissed. My penis surged against her belly; I could feel the small, soft indent of her navel upon it. Her breasts and nipples tickled my stomach.

I broke the kiss, moving down—down her neck, over to her shoulder, and back to her chest. Now kneeling, I kissed one of her breasts and the other. I kissed her nipple, and then I pinched it with my lips. I licked it and sucked upon it tenderly.

I tasted something.

Never mind, I told myself. I wanted to see the rest of her. I looked up.

She stared at me, open-mouthed, and taking deep breaths.

"Turn around," I said.

She did.

There it was—Zoe's ass. I sat on my heels in order to bring it nearer to eye level. I slid my hands over it. I grasped and squeezed it. "Your body is every man's dream, Zoe—every woman's, too." I slid my hands up and down her legs, inside and out. I rubbed her back, shoulder, and waist, too, but my eyes never left her ass.

"I'm going to put my lips on it," I told her. I drew close and inhaled the scent of something new—something sweet. As gently as I could, I put my lips on her ass and kissed, licking as I finished each one in order to find another place to kiss. I put my lips on her beautiful, feminine ass four, five, six times, and then I rose to my feet.

I knew that smell—that taste, but I couldn't quite pin it down.

Zoe turned around, and her eyes fixed upon my face. She swallowed, uttering, "That felt really nice, I..." She didn't finish. Her eyes bent to my cock. It pointed at her like the handle of a thick gavel. "Oh..." Her eyes darted up to mine. She stepped back. Her mouth hung open. She glanced back at my cock, saying, "I—I didn't know."

"What?"

She shook her head.

"Zoe, what?"

"Dad!" a voice called from outside the bathroom.

I turned from her. "Yeah, what's up, Scotty?"

Zoe was scrambling to dress behind me.

"Is it alright if we have some fruit snacks?"

"Yeah."

"We can't reach them, and we don't know where Miss Zoe is."

"I'll help, Scotty. Go on downstairs, and I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay!"

I turned to Zoe. "Gotta run. Take your time."

I quickly dressed and went downstairs. Preoccupied with Zoe's reaction to my naked body, I grabbed the wrong thing for them—granola bars.

"We wanted fruit snacks, Dad."

"Oh, right."

After helping the kids, I saw Zoe come downstairs. I went to her. "Zoe, is something wrong with...with what you saw up there?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but Gabe and Scotty rushed up to her, dragging her to the playroom.

They left a few minutes later, but not before Zoe had the chance to thank me again for the make-up kit and to tell me, "It's not you."

This was an unsatisfactory answer, and there was no chance to give her a good-bye kiss.

***

I texted her that night after dropping off Scotty with his mother. "Can I call?"

"Yes," she responded.

A moment later, I had her on the phone. "Zoe, can you please tell me what happened up there in the bathroom?"

She said, "Not this way. Not over the phone. I can't."

"This is killing me, Zoe. I can't spend the weekend wondering. Tell me this, at least: is it bad?"

A long second elapsed, and she said, "No. Well...I don't know. It's just me. It isn't you."

"Tomorrow? Can I see you tomorrow? Meet up?"

"Mom's taking the day off. She got free passes to the Children's Museum, and she wants my help."

More harshly than I meant, I said, "Fucking forget it, then."

"But, don't be mad!" she responded, alarmed.

I took a calming breath. "I'm not. I'm sorry. I've got to go," I said.

"Oh, okay," she said. "I'm sorry, too." The way her voice rose into a bit of a whine convinced me that she really was sorry.

I ended the call.

That evening I put in work, making up for missed time during the day. At midnight, I walked upstairs to bed, but I knew I wasn't going to be getting any sleep.

"Fuck it," I said. I got in my car and drove to Zoe's apartment.

The light was on in her room; her blinds were closed. I texted her from the parking lot. "You up?"

"Yes."

"Thinking about you," I wrote, getting out of the car.

"Me, too. Sorry about today. Don't be mad."

"Never," I responded from the other side of her window. "Get rid of that dead thing?" I wrote.

"What?"

"On your windowsill. Saw it earlier."

"Hang on," she wrote.

I wrapped my fingers around my throat, made a hideous dead man's face, and laid my head on her windowsill.

I heard the blinds fly up. Then, I heard a shriek.

I crawled away and ducked behind a bush, laughing.

A minute later, she texted me. "Never been so scared!"

"Sorry."

"Are you laughing?"

"Yes. Wake anybody?"

"No."

"Come to window?"