1. Jailbait


    Date: 12/20/2017, Categories: Taboo, Author: Milik_the_Red, Source: LushStories

    It had been five years since my wife died. I was stuck in a rut. It was as if my life had stalled the day Gina passed away. I was as emotionally healed as I would ever be, yet I lacked the will to go out and start anew. I worked, I came home. I slept, and then I headed back to work again the very next day. My life became a cycle. Rinse and repeat, ad infinitum. Maybe that’s why I allowed Christie to get so close to me. I told myself I just needed the help, but had I thought it through, I would have realized it was more because I was sick of the silence. I was lonely, and just hearing her lilting laugh brightened my day. My hands tremble now as recall how all of this began. It seemed so innocent at the time, but I can see now that no one is ever going believe that. I look at her laying next to me, so beautiful, and so serene in her repose. Surely, she doesn't consider what I've done to be so horrible. I will have to hold on to that feeling, and nurture it in her over the coming years. I owe her at least that, and perhaps very much more. *** It was almost eight that evening when I heard the knock. It was a little late, but the sun doesn’t drop away until almost nine during the warm months, so I wasn’t completely shocked to see my neighbor’s daughter standing there when I opened the door. “Hi, Mr. Butterfield,” she chirped in her lyrically sweet voice. I remember being instantly charmed by the nervous bounce in her step, and by the way she clasped her hands so tightly behind her ...
    back. She was full of energy and could barely contain herself, twisting on her slim hips in that wonderful dance of youth girls her age are so apt to do. Somehow, I doubt they even notice they’re doing it, but I assure you, the boys always do. Christie was a beautiful girl. Her long, auburn hair hung down the center of her back in a cute French braid that must have been as practical for her as it was alluring to me. Her deep brown eyes were bright, and full of life as she gazed at me with a smile that lit up her face. Loose-fitting blue jeans, with flower patches sewn onto the thighs, covered her slim legs, and her pink blouse offered a delightful innocence by hiding the tender swell of her breasts under its light and billowy fit. She was a girl at the most tender of ages, that sweet-sixteen, when she was becoming less a little girl and more a young woman with each passing day. Even then, I was taken aback. Women this close to the edge of ripeness usually seem overly child-like to me, but there was just something about her. Something that, despite her budding age, made her seem to be more a woman than a girl. "Hi, Christie. What can I do for you?" I offered as her gaze met mine. Her brown eyes twinkled as a bashful smile appeared on her angelic face. “Um, this is kind of embarrassing, but I need your help. Even with my mom working two jobs, things have gotten kind of tight at home. I know you've been alone since your wife passed away, so... I was thinking you might need some ...
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