Ellie

She was ready for something to happen in her life.At a week from being 18, she was ready, not just for a boy friend, she was ready for romance. She felt she was getting old, that her life was slipping away and she was missing things and times she would never have again.

It was 6am in the morning and she stood looking in her closet door mirror. She was never quite sure how she felt about what she saw there, but she had learned to accept that other people, boys, even men; (especially men) liked it. Not just a passing glance, liked it, but really singled her out as something special, liked it. Someone special and desirable, even the fathers of her friends, could be caught staring at her whenever she visited them, just by looking out of the corner of her eye.

She looked at herself now for the thousandth time and wondered why she caused this reaction. She had just stepped out of the shower but had not yet toweled herself dry. So she was still glistening wet, with her hair a long dark blond tangled mass, plastered like a wet tail down her back. Her breast were not large but they were full, will long dark nipples which pointed straight ahead. They were so long and generally in such a state, that even a bra could not prevent them from disfiguring her tops, in a way that seemed to act as a magnet to eyes. Both men and women in fact, could be caught staring at them at just about any time.

She ran her hand across her belly, which was flat but still soft with a cushion of baby fat, so that it gently arched into her pubic area like an invitation. She turned around to see a back which was posture correct, straight with square shoulders. A back which seemed to flow down into a valley and then gently up into a behind that was a little too perfect and plump and round for a white girl, one which caused all of the black boys at her school to tease her.

Turning around again to face the mirror, she looked with pouted lips, at her long muscular legs. At 5’8″ she had legs which seemed longer than they actually were. It was an illusion, caused by the way her calves blossomed into her thighs. But amazingly enough, all of these wonderful things, were not her best feature. Her best feature was one which was not normally exposed to view and one which she herself had only become aware of due to her uncle Richard. It was her feet, one of which she lifted up and rested on the side of the sink, studying it with perplexity, just not yet fully understanding its attraction. She had perfect feet; she knew it was so because her uncle Richard had told her so when she was a little girl. When God thought that his creation must have feet to walk upon, these were the feet he envisioned. Each toe was like a small succulent fruit or a lolly pop. Something that men simply needed to put in their mouth and suck. They were like a surprise at the bottom of a cereal box. If her nipples were the treat themselves, when you got to her toes it was like a wonderful surprise. One you did not expect and one you could not imagine would be better than the treat it self. Yet all of this was still, mostly a mystery to her. She did not quite see it; she did not quite believe it. But she could not deny the effects of it. Because those effects were all around her and they had reached the point, “that” point, in her young girl’s life, where she could not escape them, or not respond to them. Both because of her own opening womanhood and to protect herself from the passions of men.

‘Oh well,’ she thought, ‘I’m not going to stand here and look at myself all day, I’ve got to go to the library and study’.

Thinking this, she took her towel and began to dry herself, but she was slowed, by the feeling of the towel, as it rubbed back and forth across her breast. A little gasp escaped from her, as the towel passed over her nipples, only to have them bounce back like little springs. Sending a little electric shock throughout her body but settling between her legs. And when she rubbed the towel between her legs, she all but cried out. Her eyes hazed over, just for an instant, causing her to stop suddenly and put the towel over her face. Where she breathed deeply and was made dizzy by the apple pie perfume of her own self.

‘Oh God, what is this,’ she thought to herself,’ gee, I’ve gotta get myself together, I can’t have something as simple as drying myself off send chills of desire through me. And I don’t have time to stop and pay attention to myself, besides I promised myself that I would stop doing that!’

She looked in the mirror again and smiled to herself, shaking her head back and forth,

‘bad girl’ she thought to herself. ‘What if your mom knew what you were thinking and Oh God, what if she knew what you were doing to yourself, every night now, before you tumbled off to sleep? Hey girl, get dressed and get to the library. Its fun being home all alone but you’ve got work to do.’

With that, she slipped out into the hallway and into her room where she took her body lotion off of her dresser so she could oil her body. She sat on the bed and started, as she always did, with her feet. Covering them completely with lotion, briskly and then slowly, rubbing it in. Her feet done, she started up, first on leg and thigh and then the other. She looked at the clock, which said 9:42 am, and thought, ‘I gotta get out of here.’

Standing up she reached back, looking back into the mirror and rubbed lotion up over the back of her thighs and over her buttocks. She then rounded her hand to the front of her thighs and up between her legs, brushing across the core of her, ever so quickly, ever so lightly, in the process. The result of this caused her to sit back on the bed, rubbing herself and moaning, ‘ohhhh, ohhh, nooooo.’

She was in a light swoon, feeling her delicate, soft finger moving, in a rhythm of its own, as if by magic, against her womanhood.. But suddenly she stopped. She jumped up off the bed and said, “no” I can’t do this now, I don’t want to do this now, I have to go, no time to get lost here on the bed for half and hour”, and with that she ran back into the bath room and washed her face in cold water. Looking up into the mirror she saw that her eyes still had a dreamy distracted look, a thin haze enveloped them. Seeing this she cupped her hands under the cold water and rudely stuck her face in it. She did this repeatedly, until the mirror showed her fresh alert eyes. Seeing this she smiled, winked at her self and rushed back into her bed room to get dressed.

She was not at all pretentious about herself or her attire. She was just a beautiful, strapping, fresh faced young woman, who was still mostly innocent about herself. Yes, she was aware of the attention she caused but it still wasn’t quite reality. When she got to her room and sat on the edge of the bed, she realized she had not thought at all about what she was going to ware that day. Not that she gave it a lot of thought any day. With a deep breath she simply hopped up off the bed and walked over to her pink dresser (the same one she had sense she was 12 years old) and grabbed a simple pair of thin cotton panties which she gracefully slipped into. She picked up a matching bra, but decided she didn’t really need it, especially as it was such a warm day. She discarded the bra without another thought and went to her closet, where she almost just closed her eyes, to reach in and grab the first thing her hand came in contact with. In this case a light cotton summer dress of deep yellow.

It was a simple dress, not to short, falling just three inches above her knee, with a slightly tucked waist from which a slightly pleated, slightly flared skirt fell. It was cut comfortably low in the front, just enough to expose the mounds of her young breast, with no back, just little crossing strings which held the front up. The dress was plain, simple; there was nothing to it really but for one small thing. In it she looked like a Goddess, a Goddess of love to be exact.

Not that this was the effect she was working for, it wasn’t. She wasn’t working for any effect at all; she was just getting dressed to go out. But the truth was that she looked this way in whatever she wore. In a playful mood she smiled at herself and spun around twice in the mirror causing the dress to dance up and expose just a flash of her thighs and panties. She grinned picked up her nap sack and left for the library.

She lived within walking distance of the library, though many times she would ride her bike there. In fact she started to take her bike but something about the thought of having the seat between her legs caused her to pause and then decide not to. She decided to walk and enjoy the lovely day; after all it was only about 10 blocks.

It was not just a nice day, it was a wonderful day in up state New York. The sky was high; it was huge above the lush foliage and the tall trees. It was filled with classic fluffy white clouds drifting their own way to heaven. The sun was bright but not offensive, as it spilled in speckles on the street behind and in front of her. It was just a perfect 75 degrees kind of day and she was a part of it, more so than all of the other people on the street, because she brought a beauty out into the world that was both as majestic and as innocent as the tree’s. She turned off of Summerset Street onto Main Street, with a lazy summer day stroll, 9 more blocks, down to the library.

At first, she was really thinking about the history report which was due that coming Monday and filing in her mind the books she needed and the things she had to do at the library. She figured it should take her most of the afternoon to do what needed to be done and to do a good job of it, which was what she always did with any assignment she had.

But by the time she had passed the block from Summerset Street to Ridge Street, her mind had begun to drift back to her shower and her moments, not long before, lying in her bedroom touching herself. She became lost in those moments and had no awareness of the impression being made by her on all of those around her. Men with their wives, pretended not to notice her, as she walked their way and made clumsy excuses to turn in her direction, to catch yet another glance of her as she continued down the street. A man driving, actually pulled into an empty parking space and pretended to look at a map, as he sat amazed and followed her progress down Main Street.

None of this registered on her. She was lost in the moment of eroticism she had found herself in earlier. She stopped and bent down from the waist to pick up a leaf which was larger than her hand, which had fallen from a tree, never noticing the man who died of a heart attack, watching her do so. She stopped and looked at the leaf and told herself that she had to stop thinking about it. ‘Just stop’ she thought to herself, ‘you have work to do and thinking about stuff like that can only get you into some kind of trouble.’

The trouble was, that more and more, this kind of thing was all she thought about. She knew, that in spite of who she really was inside, she was thought of as a sexy girl because not a single boy in school would let her “not” realize it. Some even bragged to their friends that they had slept with her and how good they had been. Especially the short string of “X” boy friends she had. Especially them, because they were all so crushed, when they finally got Ellie to go out with them, only to discover she did not, would not, put out. Or even heavy pet. No one wanted to believe she was a virgin, but she was.

The problem now was that she was beginning not to want to believe she was a virgin. She was almost 18 for God’s sake. She was about to be hit by the big 8 and become legal and she keep thinking there was an elicit excitement, pleasure, mystery she would not be able to have, once she became legal. This was the last week of her life, in which she was jail bait, in which a man would have to risk everything, just to touch her. Just to caress and kiss her. Just to have sex with her. She knew it was stupid in a way, but in another way, it was truly the end of an era for her. She read a lot and she had a sense of adventure and mystery which was much more developed than anyone could have imagined. Well, except, perhaps for one person.

Her father had died when she was 4 and her mother had remarried when she was 6. Her step father was a wonderful man and always loved her and treated her like his very own. He was a tall, darkly handsome man. At 6’3″, 214 lbs, he was an imposing figure and she had always loved him very much. For her, because of the man that he was and because he had come into her life when she was so young, he was her father. He was the only father she had ever really known and she loved him accordingly.

He had two brothers, Jack and Richard. All of the brothers shared the tall darkly brooding persona, Jack was a doctor who lived in Chicago and Richard was a real estate developer who lived in the same town, but who traveled a lot, working on projects all over the country. Of the two, even as a little girl, she had always been fonder of Richard. Perhaps because he lived in town and she saw him so often. He always remembered her birthday and always brought her expensive, wonderful presents on the holidays. He had dinner at her house a lot and her parents visited his house often for pick nicks and other social occasions or just to hang out.

But her most powerful memory of him, was also her most repressed one.They had always been very special to one another. There was always a connection between them beyond the obvious. It was there, but it was silent, it was never spoken of or alluded to in anyway. It was not even a conscious connection, it was deeper than that. Somewhere, on some other level of existence, there was a pulse which was them, not him, not her, them.

Richard was an honorable man. He was educated, successful and a gentleman. He had a good heart and children and animals cared for him instantly. He did not have any children of his own, though he had been married once. Two years after he graduated from college he married his college sweetheart. His love for her was deep, but a few very lucky breaks caused her to become quite successful just after graduating from college, much more so than he at that time in his life. But that in and of it self was not an issue, what became an issue was that her success ultimately made her unbearably superficial.

Things became her passion and her love became a love for people with things. Not people, with heart, soul or wisdom, kindness honesty or truth, but things. Richard had all of her abilities but none of her luck. She had many of his abilities but none of his humanity. Even in college, she only gravitated to him because he was one of those most likely to succeed types and very well liked by students and faculty alike. In short she thought he would make it. It never occurred to her at that point, that she would make it. Nor could she have any concept of the fact that making it, would destroy what small portion of true humanity she held. After two horrible years, Richard left her. This stunned her. She never conceived that anyone could leave her, especially not Richard. But Richard was just too fine a man, too fine a human being for her.

The only negative in their divorce, was that it left Richard, with paranoia about any closeness which seemed to lead toward marriage. He never made a conscious decision or had a conscious thought about not getting married ever again. But that was the truth of how he felt, deep in side, where it mattered the most. Ellie was without doubt his favorite child relative, female or male. But he never had an off color thought about any young woman especially her.

But one afternoon, two years ago, when she was 15, something strange, frightening and wonderful had just happened. It was a cold snowy winter day. She had been a cheer leader for a year or so and she had been at practice all afternoon because of a big game coming up that weekend. She had just learned a new routine and she was very proud of it. The practice had both run late and been very strenuous. But all of that blood flowing had produced a euphoria in her, such as only exercise or drugs could.

She showered with the other girls and then got quickly dressed. A modestly short dark plaid, pleated skirt, with a snowy white blouse covered shear red panties and a soft matching red bra. Her hair was down to the middle of her back and was as lustrous as sun beams sparkling off ice on a winter tree. White knee socks and black shoes, with a low heel, but one just high enough to accent her legs and behind, completed her outfit.

As usual, she never even noticed the looks the other girls gave her. Envy, lust, longing, approval, desire, it was all there, on their faces. The boys, awaiting her passage outside the locker room, were even more powerfully affected. They tried hard not to stare, but their admiration was so poignant even she could not, not, notice it. Her cheeks became rosy with a blush, as she smiled and nodded and acknowledged greetings and stares, but it was all just such a mystery to her.

She was so happy with her new routine, she felt just so happy and alive, more so than usual, much more than usual. The elevated oxygen and blood flow brought such a glow to her cheeks and unexpectedly and strangely to her nether cheeks as well. Between her legs was an unfamiliar tingling and moisture, which affected her mood and mind in uncharacteristic ways.

This was probably, in great part, attributable to her girl friends. At 15 she was the only virgin left. And one of her issues with this was that even she could not tell you why. She wasn’t a prude, she wasn’t religious, she just had not had any inclination to do it. Nor had she discovered the person she might have wanted to experiment with. But the thought was in her head. Her girl friends not only told her about their sexual adventures, they told her about them in detail. They told her about all of the things they had discovered boys liked. They had books, they had magazines, they showed her pictures. They even invited her to join them and some of them tried to simply seduce her themselves. It was on her mind, her success with her new routine was on her mind, she felt radiant and alive in a way she have never felt before and could not have expressed in words.

She left the gym and decided to walk home. She was stunning when she walked. It was a bright, clear, cold day. She could see her breath as she walked but she wasn’t cold, she was warm. When she reached Barrow Street something stopped her. It was not a conscious decision; she just stopped and looked down the street. It was the street where her uncle Richard lived. The thought made her smile. She had not seen him in sometime and she missed him. She couldn’t think of why she had not seen him, of why he had not been around. But she suddenly realized she really wanted to see him and she turned down the street to his house to see if he was home.

A few moments later she found herself sanding at the head of the walk which lead to his front door and she wondered what she was really doing there. She had been raised to think it was not polite to just drop in on people unannounced and this thought flittered through her head but was just as quickly dismissed.

No that was not it, she told herself, to be honest with herself, why was she here? Sure she wanted to see him, he was the favorite of all of her relatives, especially those close by. More than that, they had always been special to one another. She could not have expressed this in words, nor could she express to herself in meaningful terms, why this was so, or how it was so. She suddenly realized she just felt good, so very good and she wanted to share her good spirits with someone she really cared about.

She noticed that his car was not parked out front, but this did not mean he was not at home; it may have been in the garage. She all but skipped to the front door and rang the bell. There was no answer, so after several more moments she rang it again. Again no answer and there were no sounds coming from inside. She felt silly about ringing again and was just turning to leave when the door opened and Richard, in a robe, briskly rubbing his hair with a towel looked out to see who was there.

“Oh hi uncle Richard”, she smiled as she turned to face him.

“Ellie, what are you doing here”, he replied, “it’s so great to see you. Sorry for my appearance but I was showering when I heard the door bell and I could not imagine who it could be. I never would have guessed it was you in a million years, come in”.

“Is it OK” she asked,” I didn’t call or anything, I was just passing by from cheerleading practice and thought about you, but if your busy…..”

“Don’t be silly” he said before she could finish,” you’re always welcome; you know that kid-o. If fact, I’m sorry that I haven’t seen you guys in so long, but I’ve been on the road for work”.

“Well, I’m kind of mad at you for not seeing me, now that I think about it” she said, “but”, she took him in a tight hug and squeeze, “you’re forgiven”.

“Hey thanks, I needed a hug. Why don’t you make yourself at home and I’ll go change”.

“Gee, you’re not changing for me I hope, how many millions of times have I seen you in that dumpy old bath robe of yours, I wont be here that long anyway, I just thought it would be nice to see you and say hello for a moment”.

“Cool”, he said flopping onto the couch,” how’s school?”

“How’s school, watch this” she said, as she stood back and did two flips and a roll ending in a split on the floor.” That’s what I just learned!”

“Wow”, he said,” That was really something”.

She came and sat on the couch next to him and leaned on his shoulder, “I miss you, you know, you’re my favorite person ever!”

“You’re, mine too”, he replied,” I hope you always know that”.

Like a flash she turned and straddled him, tickling him under his arms, on his rib cage and tummy, “Then why have you be so absent, you remember this, this is how we get even, ticking you to death.”

“Hey, no fair, stop,” he said, as he began to tickle her in return. They both stopped tickling each other but they could not stop laughing. She fell against him, hugging him and laughing with tears streaming down her eyes. Suddenly she stopped, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, sat up and still giggling looked him in the eyes. Suddenly something happened; it was as if from out of no where, all of the air was suddenly sucked out of the room. A stark stillness, settled over them, in the airless void that now enfolded them. They stopped laughing and just sat there, not speaking, looking at one another. Neither of them said a word, or had a word to say. They had just become lost in another dimension, which had simply appeared, without being beckoned, desired, wanted or thought of, by either of them.

Without knowing why or what she was doing she bent down and kissed Uncle Richard. Without knowing why or what he was doing, he kissed her back. They both wanted to say “no,” to stop. But the dead, other worldly, silence of the airless room, prevented them from actualizing these thoughts. Instead, Ellie put her tongue into his mouth and kissed him deeper than she had ever kissed anyone, as she began to rub herself on his lap. Mellowing into a hypnotic rhythm, she rubbed her panties against his crotch with only her panties and his robe, separating his sex, from hers. She felt his sex grow large and hard under her and she felt herself becoming more and more wet as she rubbed against him. He moved her onto his lap, so that she was straddling and rubbing him. She moaned a deep guttural sound in her throat, that was a “no, don’t,” sound, but which soon stopped as she realized his hand was now under her short plaid skirt, rubbing her sex through her panties. This caused her to gasp and remove the last of the lingering air form the room with no air.

They never broke the contact of their kiss, as his fingers rubbed electric, sparkling circles around the bulb of her sex, causing her to drift off into space and grind her sex into the rhythm of his hand. She had never dreamed anything could feel as wonderful as this. Everything she had ever heard or thought or imagined could not compare to this reality. Just when she thought that there could be no better dream Uncle Richard slipped his fingers under her panties onto her hot wet sex, onto her beating, pulsing, virgin pussy. She let out a sharp scream at this contact and stopped kissing him and just let her head burry itself into the hollow of his neck as he drove her further and further insane. She felt her pulse quickening and spasms of energy begin to radiate throughout her body. She felt her mussels, both tensing and relaxing at the same time, when gently but suddenly he stopped.

A low bewildered moan escaped form her whole being when he stopped. She was crazy and angry for the moment it took for him to slide her off his lap and down onto the couch, where he pulled her legs up from under her, exposing her fragrant, wet panties, which he gently moved aside at the crotch with trembling fingers, exposing the flower of her youth and beauty, as he bent down and licked it for the very first time with his tongue. A growl, lower and so vibrant that it did not seem as if it could come form her body, escaped her. Everything she had experienced, up to this instant, suddenly paled into darkness, as the bright sun of his tongue, on her sex, transported her to heaven.

He licked her and sucked her. Her girl friends had told her of such things and of how wonderful it could be, but nothing had, or could have, prepared her for this. He drank from the magic cup between her thighs and licked and sucked the magic bud of her sex. She lost all sense of self, of time, of space or place and then her breathing stopped. Everything stopped. The world ceased to exist, time stopped, her heart beat stopped, and then from somewhere, beyond space and time, the supernova of her first orgasm.

Her body exploded. Her thighs clamped down around his head with a super human strength, as every fiber of her being spasmed and she screamed loud enough to wake the dead. The bright flash of the super nova obliterated all reality, replacing it with pure heaven, pure joy, wonder and light .Then it was over and she slumped back onto the couch, clutching his head with her hand and her thighs, before letting go and becoming completely limp on the sofa, spent beyond all words or imaginings.

After what seemed an eternity, she opened her eyes to see Richard sitting beside her, his head back against the couch with his hands over his face, his head slowly moving back and forth almost as if he were is pain, certainly as if he were in distress. Of course this moved her and she was worried almost to tears. She wanted to do something to make him feel better, to sooth him. She remembered the pictures and descriptions of what girls did to boys which her girl friends had so graphically given her and without any conscious thought at all sat up and moved around so that her head was over Richards lap. She saw a large rise there and slid her hand underneath his robe and gently encircled his manhood, which was so very hot, large and hard. Richard jumped and cried out “what” and then looking sorrowfully at her, shook his head to form the words “no, no”, when she smiled at him and shook her head “no, no” reaching up and putting her finger across his lips, to keep him from speaking further. He sat there, with his breath stilled as she began to stroke him up and down and then bend her head to lick him. He moaned a deep primordial moan from the very inner core of his being and she took him into her mouth.

She had truly never done this before, but she was a natural. She never thought about it for an instant, she simply knew what to do and she could read his responses perfectly to do the right things. Richard was so excited, it did not take overly long, ten minutes or so latter, she felt his body stiffen and begin to tremble. He trembled and moaned and moved into her mouth faster and faster, assisting her in her mission. His hands went to her head and guided it in a quicker rhythm and then suddenly he screamed, shuttered and exploded into her mouth. It never occurred to her, not to simply swallow it all down, not to suck him until he was drained dry. He then collapsed in a heap on the couch moaning and crying and moving his head back and forth. After a few moments she slowly and gently got up and left the room. She went down the hall to the bath room she had been in so many times before, but never in such a fulfilled state. There she looked at her smiling face in the mirror and hugged herself. She washed her face combed her hair and straighten out her clothing. When she went back into the room Richard was still where she had left him. She went over to him and sat next to him. He looked up at her and began to say that he was so sorry, that it never should have happened. She quieted him with a kiss on the mouth and said it was Ok, she loved it, she loved him, don’t worry, I’m not a kid. Everything will be like before. She then said that she had to go and got up before he could say or do anything and left.

That was her one sexual experience, one which still left her a virgin. She had only seen Uncle Richard two or three times sense then, at family functions, during the entire two years that had passed. They never said anything about it, nor did they ever do it again. They both behaved as if it had never happened, which was what they both wanted, though for very different reasons. He made excuses not to come over or to have her family over. He traveled a lot more and he did it all in a way that no one, except Ellie, realized it was on purpose. She understood how he felt, what he was going through and was determined to not cause him any guilt or pain over what had been the most wonderful experience of her life. She really was quite mature in this instance, quite beyond her years. Richard realized this and blessed her for it. They were both happy and content for the moment with what had happened and with what had happened after it. But they both missed one another terribly.

Now on this lovely summer day, just one week before her 18 birthday, there she found herself again, walking down the same street which intersected with his. She was glowing, she was hot, bothered, confused, excited and wondering what all of these feelings were all about.

True, she understood that her hormones were reaching out to her. She understood that her body was yearning for fulfillment, that she was reaching her true womanhood, but why these thoughts about doing something naughty before she was 18? Why was she centering on what she was seeing as her last chance, to be wicked, in a way she never would be able to again. Yes, she was a virgin and shouldn’t she be proud of the fact? In fact, she was maybe the only almost 18 year old virgin on earth. Certainly she was the only one she knew personally! But there was a mystery embodied in wickedness. She kept seeing herself with some man (not some boy) who was lured to her like a moth to a flame, out of control, driven insane by desire for her, driven beyond common sense, the law, all morality, all caring for his life, home, future, wife, family, all for her.

Never again would a man have to sacrifice so much just to be with her. That she suddenly realized was the crux of the matter. It was not just about sex or loosing her virginity, it was about power. About someone risking the world just to reach out and touch her. Just to run his hands through her silky golden hair. Just to touch her cheek and gaze into her eyes. Just to put out a trembling hand onto the bare necked skin of her leg. Just to move it up onto her silky, down covered thighs and under her short dress to the center of the universe. To what would be, at that moment, the meaning of life. To touch her there, in her secret wonderful place and feel the hot heat and pulse of her womanhood, warm, alive and inviting, under his hand. The delirious pleasure of holding her in his arms, of laying her back and gently pushing her young, long, legs apart, of gazing at the joy of her and filling himself with the sent of her. Of moving her moist panties apart and feeling the mind numbing electric shock of putting his tongue on her. Of licking and sucking the ambrosia of her essence, of swallowing her juices, like mom’s apple pie. Of feeling her undulate under his tongue, of her giving herself over wholly and completely to him. Of the final explosion after an eternity of tinder, soft, hard, rough, earth moving sex, of the final collapse into the nether world bliss of fulfilled desire. The price for which, is simply the whole world, his pass, present and future, everything that he was, is, or ever could hope to be, Challenged in those moments, risked in those moments.

Where did these thoughts come from? She had no idea. What did she really want she thought? This was an intriguing vision but power is not love. Was she just realizing, in an intellectual way she had never before been aware of that moments of her potential were passing. That she was at a cross roads in her young life, at a bridge she would never be able to cross again, because it would burst into flame at her passing?

How important was this to her? It was not about a particular person, it was about an abstract notion. She was not even seeing anyone at the moment. She did not have a boy friend, she was not in love. So it was not as if she had a wonderful gift that she wanted to give to someone special, someone special who could understand the gift. It would just be a wanton act on her part, to fulfill and abstract thought, desire, that only she would appreciate the value of.

All of this was true, except in one instance she realized. Uncle Richard. She did love him, he was someone extremely special and he would understand the beauty and value of the gift. Thinking of him caused a flood of images and sensations to run ramped through her. That one innocent, accidental, magical moment they had shared two years ago was suddenly like a movie playing behind her eye lids. She saw it all drift by in slow motion, with each feeling bursting like a new flavor in her mouth.

She stopped and leaned against a tree on the corner of the intersection to his house. She closed her eyes and let the movie drift by her, one magic moment at a time, until she simply had to stop and open her eyes. She took a deep breath and rubbed the back of her hand across a light sheen of moisture on her forehead. ‘Yes’, she thought, ‘I would love to make love to Richard, how could I even consider anyone else’.

‘Uncle Richard,’ she thought, of course he was not really her uncle, not a blood relative and that made it OK, didn’t it? ‘Well, yes,’ she thought, ‘that did make it OK in one sense.’ But no matter who her first lover was, if she had him before her 18th birthday, as far as the law was concerned, it would be wrong. Not just wrong but very wrong, in a way that, as she had imagined in her visions of power, could have devastating consequences for her lover. God, she thought, she could never put Richard (let’s drop the uncle, she smiled inwardly) in any kind of trouble or discomfort. She could not even consider such a thing, especially due to one small week.

She thought about turning 18, about becoming legal, about time passing and new experiences replacing old. About things that were possible fading into the memory of impossibility, and about new possibilities unfolding before her. In the big picture, she thought, this is a small thing and probably one best left alone. She would have her female power and glory as a legal adult. It was thinking of what it all meant, in a very personal light, by seeing Richard as the person that brought it all into perspective for her.

She smiled and moved away from the tree she had been leaning against and with a graceful, sexual stride, filled with new understanding and determination, headed back down Main St., toward home. Not now Richard, she thought, I would not get you in any kind of real trouble, but a week from now, we’ll just have to wait and see.