Indian Vanessa

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Going up the sides of her ribs, I soon changed course and move to her belly. It was firm and flat - like one might expect of a 12 year old girl. I continued my way up the front of her torso, and soon discovered she began growing breasts. They were fairly tiny, as she had just begun to sprout. As I recall, they were about the site of acorns. Remember, though, I was 12 and had never even seen pictures of breasts - let alone touch any.As soon as I touched her breasts, rolling them between my thumbs and first fingers, she reached down to the front of my pants. Even though my pants were closed, it was exciting to feel someone besides me touching my groin. Between her touch and my contact with her breasts, I began to feel some very strange feelings between my legs. I began to get hard.Because she was caressing my crotch, I wanted to do the same to her. Fortunatey, her shorts were also loose. I touched her thighs, then slipped my hands inside the legs of her shorts. She wore cotton panties. She stands up and stops and before I am aware of it she puts her hand gently on my stomach and leans towards me, somehow intuiting where my mouth is, she kisses me. It's passionate and deep and in all ways disarming. There is a current that sparks between us with such force I am utterly caught off guard. This is not what was supposed to happen. I am supposed to be the one in control, not her. How did I allow this to happen? And why is this more satisfying than anything else I've ever done?With a supreme force of will I come back to myself and let loose the storm that has been welling for so long. I grab her hands and swiftly move them behind her, resting my wrists on her hips without breaking the kiss. I walk her backwards while wrapped up in her. She tries to resist in small ways but always ends up submitting. I gently guide her to the bed, white with an overabundance of turquoise pillows. She falls into the folds of the blanket while I push myself on top of her, pinning her arms.
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For some reason it infuriated me this time. I grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around to face me. The look of surprise on his face was so comical that I could hardly keep from laughing. But I managed to control myself. ‘Look, Paul,’ I said firmly, ‘if you want to go on staying with me, you’re going to have to put a little effort into it. You’re going to have to do some communicating.’ His face, that marvelous, eternal face, now seemed to melt before my eyes, and his expression changed from one of surprise to one of sheer terror. The fear I saw nearly took my breath away, and I wanted to reach out to him, to hold his face between my hands and comfort him. If only he’d let me…. ‘First,’ he said, ‘I’m going to tell you what I can. It might not be the explanation you want, but it’s all I can do right now.’ Then he stopped. I waited for a moment, and then said, ‘well?’ He took a breath. ‘I’m under contract,’ he said. ‘To who?’ I asked when he showed no signs of continuing. ‘For.

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