Posted by Carol the Lurker on December 24, 20010 at 10:28:35:
Steering my truck with my knees, I played with the radio with one hand while flicking the ash
from my cigarette out the window with the other. All the DJ's wanted to talk about was the
impending storm, which was looking to be at least a Manitoba Mauler and could possibly end up as a
Saskatchewan Screamer. The boiling black clouds on the northern horizon seemed to smugly say that
the forecasters were being ridiculously optimistic.
In anticipation of the foul weather, the vast emptiness of the west-river side of South Dakota was
even emptier than usual, as all the ranchers had taken their precious cattle to cover. They had good
reason; even the hardiest of cows had trouble enduring the extreme temperatures that accompanied
even a relatively weak Alberta Clipper.
Snuffing out my smoke, I placed both hands on the wheel, struggling to keep the shaking pickup
truck on the road as the wind started to rise. I was a few miles from home when, through the rapidly
dimming light, I saw a slight figure walking along the road, staggering from the force of the wind's
attack. I tried to recall if there had been a broken down vehicle somewhere behind me, as that was
the only way to explain a pedestrian in this remote area. I came up empty.
There was no question of simply passing by. Other than my house, the closest ranch was miles
away and this was not an evening to be walking outside alone. I brought the truck to a stop next to
the unfortunate soul and thumbed the button to lower the passenger side window. My intent was
merely to ask if the person needed help or wanted me to call someone.
To my great surprise, the tiny, heavily bundled figure opened the door and unabashedly climbed
in next to me.
"Whew!" said a piping feminine voice. "What took you so long, Greg? I was starting to think
that I was going to freeze to death waiting for you to get here."
I gaped at the girl in astonishment. While my name was indeed Greg, I would have wagered
everything I owned that I didn't know her. The simple fact of the matter was that I didn't know
anyone in the area unless one counted the passing acquaintance I had with the few ranchers to whom I
leased the bulk of my property for use as grazing land. For the past few years, I hadn't exactly been
what you could call outgoing.
Before I could say a word, she continued, "Well, step on it. My father will be coming to pick me
up in a bit, so we don't have much time."
"Uh, where do you want me to take you?" I asked numbly.
She turned to face me. All I could make out were her bright blue eyes twinkling merrily at me
from the depths of her hood. "To your house, of course."
The situation was so surreal that the suggestion of taking a complete stranger to my residence
actually seemed rational. With a grunt of assent, I shifted the truck into gear and continued down the
road. Surely things would start to make sense once I had my hands wrapped around a steaming-hot
cup of coffee.
As soon as we started moving, she searched through the channels on the radio until she found a
station that was playing Christmas carols. Bouncing in her seat, she happily sang along. Entranced
by her lilting, melodious voice, I remained silent.
When we entered my split level, she moved through the first few rooms like a whirlwind, peering
at this and examining that. There really wasn't much to look at in my sparsely decorated abode.
When I had moved here after the death of my wife of thirty years, most of our belongings went into
storage in the attic. Too many of them spawned memories that were too much of a grim reminder of
just how much I had lost.
As she skipped from place to place, she shed layer after layer of clothing, tossing each item
carelessly to the floor. Bemused, I followed after her, picking up the over-garments and folding each
neatly over the back of my couch.
When the last of the bulky clothing had been discarded, leaving only a bright green jumpsuit with
red trim, the tiny figure of a young girl, maybe ten years old at most, was revealed. Shaking her long
blond hair loose from beneath a wool cap, she again turned to face me.
The sight of her took my breath away. She had an ethereal, otherworldly beauty that is
impossible to describe in words. Beneath the bright blue eyes was the tiniest button of a nose. Her
cheeks were bright red, and her ears somehow managed to be both exceptionally large and dainty at
the same time. Oddly enough, they also seemed to be slightly pointed.
She stood and let me look for a moment, preening under my admiring gaze. Finally, with a sad
little pout, she broke my reverie by asking, "Not even a Christmas tree, Greg?"
"It's just me here, so I didn't see the point of going through the effort of putting one up," I
explained dazedly. Taking a deep breath and tearing my eyes from her, I tried to gain some measure
of control over the situation. "Look young lady, you're welcome to weather out the storm here, but I
think you must have me confused with someone else. If I had met you, I certainly would
remember..."
Her eyes widened slightly as she hopped over to stand directly in front of me. Presenting her
hand with a flourish, she interrupted, "I'm sorry. How very rude of me not to introduce myself. I'm
Evie."
Reflexively, I took her soft, warm hand in mine. "Nice to meet you, Evie. Now, about..."
Again she blithely interrupted me, "And this isn't a case of mistaken identity. I came here to see
you."
Not relinquishing my hand from her astonishingly strong grip, she led me over to the couch and
pushed me down onto it. She immediately climbed onto my lap facing me. The feel of her slight
body on top of mine was delightful. So long deprived of companionship, I could feel myself
responding against my will.
"Uh, Evie," I protested, "this isn't a very good idea. How about if you let me up and I'll go make
us some dinner?"
"I'm not hungry. Besides, as I said before, we don't have a whole lot of time. My father will be
picking me up shortly."
As if to belie her statement, the wind howled outside, pelting snow and ice against the window.
Looking in that direction, I could see that the snow was now falling so hard that I couldn't even make
out my truck in the driveway.
"I hate to say it, Evie, but I don't think anyone will be driving through this storm."
"He'll be here," she replied confidently. A cheeky grin spread across her face as she switched
subjects. "I'm not intruding on any Christmas Eve plans, am I?"
Still off-balance, I gestured toward a well-thumbed Asimov novel on the coffee table. "Uh, no. I
was just planning on curling up on the couch with a good book."
She shook her head sadly. "That's no way to spend Yule. Let's see if I can bring you some
Christmas cheer," she said softly as she leaned down to kiss me. Her lips tasted of cinnamon. Her
tongue flicked against my lips, seeking entry. I granted the request eagerly. Completely intoxicated
by everything about her, I have no idea how long that wonderful kiss went on.
Finally, though, my conscience stopped merely nagging me and started shouting, as consciences
have a way of doing. Although it was the hardest thing I've ever done, I took her shoulders in my
hands and pushed her gently back. She resisted for a moment before relenting. Meeting my eyes, she
tilted her head to the side with an amused smile on her face. A perfect eyebrow rose in query.
After taking a moment to catch my breath, I reached up to brush the backs of my fingers over the
incredibly soft skin of her cheek and stammered, "Thank you, Evie. You've made an old man very
happy, but we shouldn't be doing this. You're so young..."
She cut me off with a torrent of bubbling laughter. Even her laugh was perfect, having a musical
quality that somehow made me think of sleigh bells. "You just turned fifty-three this past August,
Greg. That hardly makes you an old man. As for me, I'm ... older than I look." For some reason this
statement brought on another bout of giggles. When her mirth faded, she continued, "A lot older.
Besides, I know you've always felt an attraction toward young girls. It's one of the reasons that I
decided to pay you a visit."
My jaw fell open in shock at the sound of my deepest, darkest secret being so casually
announced. It was something I had never admitted to anyone, although I imagine that my wife must
have suspected at times.
Seeing my expression, she smiled gently and twined her fingers around the back of my neck.
"Relax, Greg. Your secret is safe with me. You've never acted on the feelings that cause you so
much shame or hurt anyone in your life. My Christmas gift to you is to let you live your fantasy
without any fear of possible consequences."
My hands fell to the sides in surrender as she pulled me relentlessly forward until our lips touched
again. Her slight body squirmed deliciously against mine as she kissed me passionately. I brought
my hands back up to her shoulders and was shocked to find only warm bare skin as soft as the finest
of silks. How had she managed to get her top off?
Her fingers moved deftly up and down my body, undoing buttons, a buckle and a zipper while
mine traced down her back, encountering only smooth soft skin the entire way to the plump, round
globes of her butt. It wasn't only her top that had vanished as if by magic.
Breathlessly, she pulled back, licking her lips hungrily. I could now see that her jumper had
hidden small, perky breasts capped with enormous nipples. Feasting my eyes on the small but well
shaped orbs, I mentally upped my assessment of her age to at least twelve, continuing to dismiss her
statement that she was 'a lot older' as innocent exaggeration. My gaze moved lower and I saw that her
hips flared only slightly. Between her legs, I could just make out the top of the slit of her puffy,
hairless mound.
Wrapping her hands around my head she drew my mouth to her chest. I took one of the gumdrop
sized nipples into my mouth, savoring the slightly sweet, slightly salty taste of her skin. She guided
me gently back and forth from breast to breast, whispering encouragements and cooing with pleasure.
Suddenly, she scrambled back out of my grasp and sank to the floor in front of me, forcing herself
between my knees. Reaching forward, she adeptly freed my throbbing erection from my pants.
"Mmm, it's huge," she exclaimed happily. "Much bigger than any of the el ... my father's
workers."
In my younger days, I had measured my stiffy, as most men do at some point, and knew that I
sported a solid six and a half inches. Hardly huge, but her comment still begged the question of just
how many penises this young girl had seen?
Looking up, she must have seen the question in my eyes as she elaborated slightly, "We tend to be
a randy bunch."
Leaning forward, she planted a sloppy kiss on the tip and then lighter, fluttering ones up and
down my shaft. My eyes squeezing shut, I threw back my head with a moan of pleasure. I heard her
musical giggle and then half my length was engulfed in liquid heat.
Forcing my eyes back open, I looked down to see her lips stretched wide around my throbbing
member. Her head started to bob gently, sliding me in and out of her mouth as her tongue caressed
the ridge of my glans.
It had been far too long since I had experienced such pleasure. After only a few minutes, I tried
to warn her. "Evie, you better stop ... I'm going to shoot ...," I panted.
Her smiling eyes locked onto mine as she increased the speed of both her bobbing head and
wiggling tongue. With a groan, I thrust up into her mouth and erupted. Applying light suction, she
sped up even more. When, with a few final twitches, I settled back to the couch, she pulled her
mouth free and laved my cock with her tongue, cleaning up every last drop of my seed.
Once she was satisfied with her efforts, she scrambled back up into my lap. I enfolded her in my
arms and kissed her deeply in gratitude. Sensing her need, my hands slid down to cup her buttocks,
holding her in place as I stood. Her tiny body was no burden at all as I carried her rapidly to my bed,
my lips still locked to hers.
Laying her gently on the mattress, I quickly stripped. She watched me with a warm smile, her
legs spread wide. The swollen pink nubbin of her clit was peeking out from its hood, and the thin,
coral pink lips of her sex were flowered slightly open.
I reverently sank to my knees at the side of the bed and pulled her hips to me. As she cooed her
approval, I planted butterfly kisses all over her inner thighs before gently outlining her sex with my
tongue. She was far sweeter than my wife, with just a hint of tartness. The flavor was familiar
somehow ... Sugar plums, a dim memory from my youth provided in wonder; she tasted of sugar
plums.
Her soft, warm thighs pressed tight against the sides of my head as my tongue delved deeper
between those tiny labia, lapping up her delicious essence. Pulling back slightly, I swirled my tongue
around the hood of her delicate clitoris, trying to get a feel for how sensitive her little button was.
Taking my cue from her deep, guttural moan, I took it between my lips and sucked gently while
teasing it with the tip of my tongue. At the same time, I slid my hands up her body to cup her breasts
and roll her nipples between my fingers.
Only moments later, her feet drummed softly against my back as her hips bucked violently up and
down. Thrusting my tongue as deep inside her as I could, I reveled in the sensation of her contracting
pussy essentially gnawing on me.
After her orgasm subsided, I gently kissed and nibbled the entire area between her legs until she
had recovered fully. I then renewed my assault with vigor. She trembled her way through a number
of orgasms before I felt her hands take hold of the side of my head, pulling me up. I allowed her to
guide me until her lips again met mine. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders and her legs around
my hips to hold me tight as she kissed me soundly.
Fearing that my weight might be causing her some discomfort, I rolled us over so that she was on
top. She kissed me for a few minutes more before sliding slightly down my body. She stopped when
the head of my reinvigorated cock nudged its way between the cheeks of her bottom.
Reaching back, she took my shaft in hand and rubbed the head up and down her furrow. My eyes
widened as I realized her intent. I had surrendered completely to her, but hurting her was the last
thing I wanted to do. She was so tiny that I couldn't imagine that she would be able to take my cock
without pain.
"Evie, there's no way ..."
She looked up at me, a lustful smile on her lips. "Shhh," she said softly, "I want to feel this
monster inside me."
Without another word, she centered my cock on her entrance and pushed back. We both moaned
as she smoothly impaled herself completely. She was incredibly, wonderfully tight, but she had taken
all I had to give without any sign of discomfort. Laying the side of her face against my chest, she
began to roll her hips, working me in and out of her delightfully clasping tube.
Her arms gripping me tightly, she murmured, "You're so big. I've never felt so full, so stretched.
I love having you inside me."
Through my intense pleasure, I managed to groan out in reply, "Oh, Evie, you're so tight. I can't
believe you took the whole thing."
I slid my hands down to cup and massage her churning buttocks before reaching slightly farther to
explore the point of our union. Her labia were stretched obscenely wide around my girth, clinging to
my shaft on each outward stroke only to vanish inside her when she reversed direction. I couldn't get
over how wet she was; little rivulets of her juices were running down the length of my cock to soak
my pubic hair.
Gasping and panting she turned her head and moaned into my chest as she came again. Her
insides quivered around me like ... well, like a bowlful of hot jelly. The sensation was incredible,
but, having cum in her mouth only a short time before, I wasn't anywhere close to reaching another
climax.
Hugging her tightly to me, I again rolled us over. Propping myself up on my arms to keep my
weight off of her, I drove into her forcefully, plunging my entire length into her sweet pussy again and
again. With her eyes half closed in pleasure and her jaw hanging slackly open, she gazed up at me
adoringly as her orgasm went on and on.
I was approaching climax when she pushed at my chest. "I want to try something," she
whispered.
The moment I pulled out of her, she crawled out from beneath me. Rolling over onto her
stomach, she raised her bottom up into the air and wiggled it from side to side.
"Hurry up," she said cajolingly. "I miss having you inside me already."
I drew myself up to my knees, but had to pause there for a moment to admire the lovely view.
The plump mounds of her sex were bright pink with arousal and were shiny and glistening with her
juices. Her well-stretched labia were gaping open, allowing me to see deep into her quivering, bright
pink center. The muscles of the small but shapely globes of her bottom alternately flexed and relaxed
with her wiggling.
With a small moan, she reached back and spread her pussy lips wide in invitation. "Hurry!" she
repeated.
Easing up behind her, I placed my knees outside her calves and spread my legs almost painfully
wide to lower myself to the proper level. With a groan, I again thrust my cock deep inside her. She
immediately went into a frenzy, her hips rolling up and down and from side to side as she ground her
buttocks back into my loins. Shivers ran up my spine as my entire length was massaged by the
quivering, churning walls of her tiny pussy.
Wrapping my hands around her waist, I began to drive into her from behind, my lower stomach
slapping lightly against her upthrust bottom with each thrust. Beneath our heaving hips, I could feel
my balls slapping against the fingers that she was using to caress her pleasure button.
Moaning continuously in orgasm, she sank lower and lower onto the mattress until only her
bottom was raised. Unrelenting, I followed her down until I was again lying atop her.
"Cum inside me. I want you to fill me with your sweet, sweet seed," she murmured softly
between moans.
With a final few thrusts, I obliged, my cock erupting as deep inside her as I could get it.
"Yesss!" she hissed. "I can feel you cumming! It's so warm! So good!"
Once my climax had faded, I rolled off of her and gathered her into my arms. She came eagerly,
raining kisses down upon my face and neck. We cuddled until I fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
It was still dark outside when I was awakened by a clatter. Half asleep, I reached out and found
that I was alone. Outside the wind still howled in fury as it whipped around my house. Wrapping a
blanket around myself, I walked from room to room looking for Evie, but she was nowhere to be
found. In the living room, I noticed a piece of paper on the hearth of the fireplace, right next to a
small but beautifully decorated Christmas tree.
As I picked up the note, I realized it wasn't written on paper but on a cream colored parchment.
In elegant handwriting that put the finest calligraphy to shame, it read:
Merry Christmas, Greg!
Sorry I didn't have a chance to say goodbye properly, but my father came to get me, just like I said
he would, and he's on a very tight schedule. I had a better time tonight than I have since I partied with
Magellan and his boys just before they set sail. With our off-season coming up, I may just use a few
months of my decades of accrued vacation time to come for a longer visit. You're every bit as
naughty and as nice as dad's list said you would be!
In the meantime, there's one thing I want you to keep in mind: whether you call it Yule, Winter
Solstice, the Feast of the Son of Isis, or Christmas, this time of year is a celebration of love and joy. I
know that you're hurting from your loss and think that these things are forever gone from your life,
but they're all around you. All you have to do is open your heart.
Your wife was a wonderful woman, and she never would have wanted her passing to cause you to
cut off all contact with the outside world and move to a place that makes my homeland look
downright cheery. Don't be afraid to face her memory. Embrace it! Honor it! You have to make
peace with yourself before you can learn to love again.
So, get out there! Live! Love! Be Happy! I'll see you soon.
Love,
Evie Claus.
Grabbing a flashlight and wrapping the blanket even more tightly around myself, I rushed out into
the yard. Blinking my eyes against the driving snow, I turned the light back toward my house. I
could still make out the divots caused by a small herd of deer and the deep tracks of the sled they had
pulled across my roof.
I stared until the wind had erased all sign of the sleigh's passage and then, shivering from the
biting cold, made my way back inside. After starting a pot of coffee brewing and putting Christmas
music on the stereo, I went to look for the hooked pole used for pulling down the stairs to the attic. I
had a lot of unpacking to do.