Paradise

(M/g(9), mast, oral, intercourse)

I was a lie. Everything about me was a lie, hiding from a past I couldn't ever discuss. My bargain was simple - I was still useful, and I could still be useful, but not there, not in the capitol, in the heart of the organisation. Not where the press could find me, where the law could lay its fingers upon me, where my past could be writ large in the skies, in the papers, in people's minds. I could still be useful, if I wanted to be, but I also had to be gone.

I died in a car accident. My badly burned body could be identified only by dental records. Given my position within the intelligence services, it was quite proper for a government appointed coroner to perform the identification; her records were falsified with the least fuss. Alcohol was found in my bloodstream, and a note from my ex-lover was found in my flat. Strangely, given everything that could be found, she couldn't be. If my indiscretion ever came out, it would only reinforce the myth that I was reckless and out-of-control, and perhaps no longer wanted to live. I asked my head of section who they'd burned in the car, but beyond "someone who deserved it as much as you", he didn't answer. I think I knew then, but there was no time to confirm.

The surgery was quite light, really. A nip here, a tuck there, and a tightening of the eyes, and four weeks later Tom Spittal emerged blinking into the sunlight following treatment for 'a non-aggressive tumour'. My superiors made sure I knew how lucky I was, and how keen they were to see me leave. I saw my handler for the day sitting on a park bench opposite the entrance to the hospital. He sat with his phone out, the small yellow dot on the top left of the backplate the signal I had been told to look for. I sat next to him. Nothing was said. I wondered in the moments after he left, abandoning the bag to his right, whether or not he knew why I was being relocated. Did he even know what was in the bag? Probably not, I reasoned. What he didn't know he couldn't leak.

I sat on the train to Heathrow rifling through the contents of the bag, hoping that no-one was paying too much attention, but not really caring any more if there was a small compromise. Four hours hence I would be gone from these shores, if not forever, then at least for a long time. The passport was there, artfully faked and creased in several places. I'd been a busy boy, it seemed. Money - a few hundred pounds sterling, for whatever use that would be, and a fair chunk of American dollars, which would be more useful where I was going. No local currency, but that never mattered. A wallet, with cards under my new name. The pins I already knew, a standard set based on the day of their issue to me. Two credit cards and a debit card for a local bank account. It made no difference how much money was in the account - it would always be refreshed at the end of the month, and besides, my expenses would be all but non-existent. What else? Pain drugs - that was nice of them - and a key for a deposit box where I would find my luggage. Probably a plain black holdall with simple, functional clothes suitable for my destination. No weapon and no sign of how to obtain one locally, so this would be a cold mission. I knew I would be able to arrange something if I needed to, but I had a feeling it wouldn't be required.

As it turned out, the story blew up sooner than expected. I was still sitting in the airport lounge when Anna's face flashed up on the news. I couldn't hear what was being said, but I didn't need to. Top intelligence agent in love tryst with daughter of Russian oligarch, herself suspected of being a spy. I knew it was stupid at the time, but I thought I might even be able to turn her. There was the burned out car, too. Damn them, I loved that thing. They only burned it to punish me. I could have disappeared another way. At least there was no picture of me. Yet. They always dug one out sooner or later, and the Russians would be all too glad to supply them with something. They probably still had my Kremlin security badge photo on file. Still, I looked sufficiently different now that I'd needed a new passport photo, so perhaps even when the pictures came out I wouldn't be recognised. A few people would probably be surprised to find it was me - old school mates, cousins, that sort of thing - but my parents had both been dead for years now, and I had no siblings to worry about, so at least no-one too close to me was in for a shock when it was revealed I worked for the service.

Nothing new came up in the next hour, while I waited for my flight. I sat, staring at a book and pretending to turn the pages, while the training I couldn't unprogram picked out the threats in the room, and just for fun worked out how to disarm them.

***

I can't lie to you, the flight was fucking awful. The less said about that, the better. Once I got closer to my final destination things improved slightly, though. The little prop which took me out to the island was fun, and I was one of only a handful of passengers. In fact, we were carrying more weight in mail than people.

I thought for a moment that the driver who met me at the garden shed of an airport might have been my contact, but he gave none of the signs, and other than offering to take my bags, said nothing at all to me for the entire journey. I wondered if he'd been warned off speaking to me, just in case someone traced me here. Seemed a bit far fetched, but my superiors tended to be quite thorough.  

I was deposited in front of a large, white colonial building on the top of a hill, overlooking a turquoise bay to the north. It was more than a little bit idyllic; I didn't usually pay attention to that sort of thing, but it was hard not to be impressed. The driver left without a word, placing my bags at my feet and disappearing back down the driveway. I was alone, and apparently required to make my own introductions.

I walked up to the front door and rang the bell, but after five minutes without an answer I began to grow agitated. Making a deliberate effort to remain calm, I decided to investigate. Wandering around the side of the building I found an unlocked gate and stepped through, shutting it behind me. I could hear high-pitched laughter from the rear of the building, so someone was home at least.

When I stepped around the side of the building, the sight which greeted me was surprising, to say the least. A grey-haired man was giving a young girl in a bikini a piggyback ride around what appeared to be a show-jumping course. Both were laughing a great deal, and it was because they were so involved in their game that they didn't see me coming.

It was the girl who spotted me first. She stopped laughing immediately, and that alerted her mount, who ceased his running, and quickly lowered her to the ground.

"Can I help you?" the man asked, his brows wrinkled in concern. The girl slid down off his back and stood next to him.

"I'm not sure," I said. "Perhaps. My name is Tom Spittal."

Recognition flashed across the man's face.

"Go inside and put on a dress, Maddy," he said to the girl. She looked about to protest, but one sharp glance from the adult sent her scampering away.

He approached me confidently, but also, I noticed, watching my hands.

"Hi," he said, holding out a hand as he crossed the last few metres. He had a firm handshake, and rough hands. I could tell just from that contact that despite his apparent age - I would put him in his mid fifties - he was at least a physical match for me. "Graham Webb, British consul. We don't have an ambassador, so perhaps that, too."

"It's nice to meet you. I recognise your face, but I have to admit I don't know why."

He grinned at me.

"Do they still use the Pyrenees Affair notes for training at the academy?" he asked, and suddenly I realised.

"You're THAT Graham Webb. Well, it's an honour to meet you, sir."

He waved a hand dismissively.

"Trust me, it's not that much of an honour. And please don't call me sir, especially around my wife and daughter. They already tease me often enough. Why don't you come inside and we can sit down and discuss why you're here. I must admit, I was a bit surprised when I got the note. I didn't even have to organise you being picked up, and I wasn't told when you would be here. That's why you caught me off guard. We wouldn't normally see a full agent on the island."

I followed him into the cool interior of the house. He poured us both a glass of juice, and he took us through into his study. I noticed his daughter hanging around outside the door eavesdropping, but clearly Graham wasn't that worried about her hearing what was said, as he made no move to shoo her away.

"It's all a bit odd, this," he said when we were seated. "I got a message through from mother a few days ago. Don't get that many top secret codes these days, so it was a bit of an intrigue. It said very little, just that we were getting a live-in agent for the foreseeable future. No change in security status, no known threat, but they felt it necessary for us to have someone here. Have they told you anything at all that you're allowed to pass on to me?"

I shook my head.

"I didn't even know where I was coming until I saw the tickets. I should be honest, though - this is a punishment mission."

Graham's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh yes? Been a naughty boy have you?"

"Have you seen the UK news yet today?"

He nodded.

"Notice the story about the spy and the Russian agent?"

"That was you?!" he said, bursting out laughing. "My God, boy, you really fucked that one up, didn't you?"

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

"I thought I could possibly gain something useful from it."

"Other than just getting laid, eh?" he said, still laughing. "Now I know why they sent you out here. Same reason they sent me, as it happens."

"I thought you were just retired from active service and given a diplomatic post."

"I was, Tom. But they only retired me because of my wife, Olga. You know, Olga Demetriev?"

My eyes widened.

"You married Olga Demetriev? I thought you killed her!"

"No, son, I married her. She's out right now, giving pottery lessons at the local school, but I'd be delighted to introduce you just as soon as she gets back. The only difference between us two is that I managed to turn mine."

I smiled and shook my head. Olga Demetriev was one of the highest profile Russian spies toward the end of the cold war.  Rumour had it that she was killed during a botched prisoner transfer, but apparently even within the service we weren't given all the details.

"I cannot believe Olga Demetriev is teaching pottery to children!" I said, laughing.

"Makes a killer roast beef, too, as it happens," Graham said with a smile. "So, I suppose we know where that leaves us. You're here on a security detail, until you've done your time and they can trust you again. That'll be about a year, if I'm any judge. This consular deal is a permanent job, not like the ambassadorial gig, so we'll be here, too, unless the Russians decide they're interested in Olga again, and we have to move. Shouldn't happen, though - it's been more than a decade since they sent their last goon to try something. Needless to say, it didn't end well for the poor fellow."

"Er, do you know that your daughter is outside the door? Don't you mind her hearing all this?"

"No," Graham said with a sigh, "she's far too smart and figured out plenty for herself, so we don't bother hiding things from her any more. You might as well come in, Maddy, and say hello to Tom. He's going to be staying with us for a while."

In walked a little angel, all dressed in white. The summer dress she had thrown on was thin enough that I could clearly see the green bikini beneath. Or, at least, the bottom half of it; the top half had gone missing. I put her at about eight or nine, and she was rather cute, I suppose - little button nose covered in freckles, beneath a pair of deep blue eyes and a mess of brunette hair which fell down past her shoulders.

"Hi,'' she said, raising a hand in a slight wave. "Are you a spy, too?"

I smiled at her directness.

"Yes, although the official line will probably be that I'm your father's new personal assistant."

"Have you killed anyone?"

I was a little shocked by the question, though in hindsight, knowing what I do of Maddy it was quite in character. I looked at Graham, silently asking permission to be truthful. He nodded.

"A few, yes."

She wrinkled her nose. Clearly this displeased her.

"Were they trying to kill you?" she asked.

"Yes. Most of them. One of them was about to kill lots of other people, including a lot of children. Some of them had already killed other people."

"Hmm," she said, indicating that perhaps my crimes had been justified after all. "Well, as long as you don't start killing people here, I suppose we can be friends."

She stuck out a hand and I shook it. Then she skipped out of the office to find something more interesting to do. Graham was smiling at me when I turned back to him.

"There's a lot of her mother in her," he said with a grin.

***

Life at the house was pretty easy going, especially after the hectic routine I'd experienced as an agent in London. Graham's work as the UK's representative on the island seemed to extend only as far as going to the occasional official event and shaking a few hands, helping out the odd British tourist who got into trouble (and there were more of those than I was expecting), and keeping an eye on the incoming messages from home. Other than that, he seemed free to do whatever he pleased, which meant a lot of time playing with Maddy when she wasn't in school, and a fair amount of physical activity; most of us agents got into such a routine of keeping ourselves in shape that even when we retired it was impossible to give up.

Of course, as an active agent I still had a contractual responsibility to keep myself fit, which meant running and swimming most days. In London, I had taken an early morning run whenever work allowed, but out here on the island it was too warm even at seven or eight, and so I took to running late in the evening, when the rest of the house was asleep, and swimming in the morning instead. The house came with quite a large pool, and thirty or forty lengths in the morning got me ready for the day.

For the first few days I swam alone, while the rest of the house slowly woke. By the end of my first week on the island, though, that had changed. I found Maddy coming down to swim at the same time; she wouldn't do quite the same distance, but she wasn't a bad swimmer at all, and had a fish-like grace through the water which I lacked. She worked with the water, gliding through it, where as I tended to pummel it out of my way. She would usually arrive five or ten minutes after I did, and stay a little while after I was done, by which time her parents and Martha, the housekeeper, were awake.

We all sat down to eat breakfast together, occasionally with one of the other consular staff if they had a meeting with Graham first thing in the morning. For someone who had lived a fairly solitary existence for the last decade, it took a bit of getting used to. Graham was a live wire, and Olga was strong-willed and opinionated, and so meals were rarely a quiet affair, even breakfast. I was easily accepted and integrated, though, and it wasn't long before I felt at home. It was a strange feeling, but a good one.

My duties were strictly limited to the security detail, at Graham's insistence. Either he didn't trust my diplomacy skills, or he thought he would cut me a break. It certainly wasn't that my main work kept me too busy - within two weeks I had completed an initial report on conditions on the island, and had concluded that the house was well secured, and there were no known threats. In other words, I had quite neatly proven that I wasn't at all required. The report was submitted to London, with a promise of a more detailed version to come, but when I was called in to see Graham about it a few days later, I was in for a surprise.

"They don't want a full report. They've decided that what you've done already is good enough," he said.

"Oh. So, what am I supposed to do now?"

He grinned at me.

"Relax. Enjoy yourself. I read from your file that you're into watersports - perhaps you could teach Maddy to surf. There's a decent enough beach on the far side of the island, and she's been begging me to get her lessons for ages."

I was a little put out - here I was, a highly trained operative, honed to the nth degree, and I was going to be babysitting.

"You can surf, can't you?" Graham asked, sensing my hesitation. "Only it's in your file and if you can't, someone's messed up somewhere."

I hardly saw that it mattered whether or not my file was right. But right there and then I made a decision - I was out here being punished because I had made a serious error of judgement, so who was I to complain what job I had to do? The weather was great, the surroundings beautiful, and if the worst thing I had to do was spend all day surfing, I really couldn't complain.

"Well, the thing is," I said, "I don't have any kit with me."

"That's easily solved!" said Graham. "I'm told there's a great shop near the beach. Maddy will know where it is. Why don't you take the Landie out this afternoon, pick her up from school and go and get yourselves sorted out? The consulate will pay for it."

And that's how I became Maddy's surf teacher. It would turn out to be just the first of a whole world of things I taught her.

***

Maddy was a little confused to see me sitting in the Land Rover outside her school. She gave me a strange look as she climbed into the passenger seat.

"Where's dad?" she asked. No 'hello' or anything quite that civilised.

"He asked me to pick you up," I replied, not bothering to hide my annoyance at her tone.

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said wondering if it really was a good idea to give this girl what she wanted if that's what her attitude would be. I started the car and turned us round in the road without telling her where we were going. I had half a mind just to head back to the house and deal with the fallout later. Still, there were a few minutes before we had to decide which road to take.

"Go on, tell me," she whined. I was perversely pleased to see that I was frustrating her. We'd always been trained that such petty displays of psychological warfare were to be avoided unless there was a distinct tactical advantage. In this case, I was merely doing it to wind Maddy up. Perhaps it was time for me to be the grown-up.

"Fine. He asked me to take you over to the west side of the island and get you a couple of things."

Her eyes lit up at the prospect of going shopping.

"What things? What do I need to get?"

"Well, do you currently have a short wetsuit, or some board shorts and a rash shirt?"

"Um, no. What's a rash shirt?"

"It's a special kind of t-shirt you wear to stop yourself getting a rash when you're surfing."

"Oh, right. No, I don't have... wait a minute. Did you say surfing?"

I turned my head and couldn't stop myself smiling a little at the excitement on her face.

"Yep."

She punched the air and gave a cry of 'yessss!', and then started chattering non-stop about surfing, and how much she'd wanted to learn but never could, and so on until my ears were nearly bleeding. All the time she was nattering away she punctuated her words with a range of hand gestures, which included - when telling me something particularly interesting - laying both her hands on top of my left forearm, which itself had gravitated to sit atop the gear lever as we drove along. She had hot, soft little paws, with her fingernails painted bright blue, and wore a cheap little ring on her right hand.

"Do you know the best bit?" I managed to interject while she paused for breath.

"What?"

"I'm going to be your surf teacher."

"You? But you're one of those office guys from England. What do you know about surfing?"

I grinned at her, pleased that she had underestimated me. I enjoy defying expectations.

"A lot more than you think."

***

By the time we reached the surf shop, the sun was beginning to head toward the horizon. I was hoping to get an hour in once we'd bought the stuff, but I hadn't counted on Maddy. Whilst I went straight in and managed to find a suit in the right size by the same manufacturer I'd last owned, and a short board I knew would be just fine, Maddy was completely and utterly lost, and loving it.

She wandered from rack to rack, looking at everything, even those things I assured her were unnecessary. On the way over we'd decided that a shorty wetsuit would be the best in the short term, and she could switch to shorts and a rash shirt when she was a bit more confident. We'd also need to get her a board, because I wanted her to do this properly, rather than on a succession of different rentals, each with its own characteristics.

Eventually, I managed to drag her over to the rack of suits, and collar a sales rep at the same time. I explained what Maddy needed, and the rather good-looking but vacant young lad managed to excel in the only thing which really mattered right then - knowledge of kit. He found three options in Maddy's size for her to try, and sent her off to the changing rooms to see which fit best.

I hung around outside like something between a bored dad and an uninterested boyfriend, though I was nothing like either of those. A couple of minutes later, a plaintive cry issued from the changing booth.

"Tom, can you help?"

I wandered over.

"Do you need me to come in, Maddy?"

"Yes, please," she called back, and unlatched the door.

Not too sure what I would find on the other side, I stepped through and locked the door behind me. Maddy was at least decent, dressed in what I had thought was probably the best of the options for her skinny little frame.

"It's the zip," she said, pointing over her shoulder. "I can't get hold of it."

The wetsuit in question had a very long zip, which ran past her hips and half way across her backside. It was a bit of a strange design, but it doubtless had a purpose. Either way, Maddy couldn't reach it. She span round to allow me to help.

I felt a bit strange helping her with this, given that the length of her spine and the top half of her pale blue knickers were exposed to me. There was no more flesh on display than she showed me every morning when she went for her swim in her tiny little bikini, but it was somehow different.

Not wanting to spend a moment longer than necessary in the room, I grabbed the zip and rather forcefully pulled it up, so much so that when I reached the top I almost lifted Maddy off her feet. She gave a little squeak, and turned to give me a rather strange look, as if she was trying to work out what I was up to. I apologised, and got the hell out of there, though not before I could stop myself telling her that she should probably take her pants off to get a better feel for the suit. You're not meant to, of course, but everyone who's bought a wetsuit a few times does it.

The other two suits were less of a problem, and thankfully she didn't ask me to go and help her remove them each time, because for some reason I couldn't fathom, I was getting rather hot and flustered. We had all but settled on the first suit, which had always been the front-runner, when Maddy paused.

"You know, I really think I should try that first one on... you know... 'properly'."

I thought she meant to try it on again just to make sure it was right, but that's not what she intended at all. A couple of minutes later, the little cry for help came once more. This time when I entered the booth, she already had her back to me.

"Can you do the zip again?" she asked.

"Perhaps if you can't do it up yourself, this might not be the right one for you."

"Oh, no, it is. Definitely right. I'll learn to reach. It's just now, could you help? I mean, we need to be quick and everything, don't we?"

Well, there's a first time for everything, I supposed. It wasn't like Maddy to care about timekeeping, but perhaps she'd realised how long she'd taken. I stepped forward and... and I found out what she had meant by 'properly'.

Inside the suit I could quite clearly see the top half of the crack of her backside. For the first time I noticed that Maddy, for a nine year old, had a fantastic little bum. It was pert and perfectly proportioned, and it blended ever so gently into her well-toned back. Oh God how I wanted to run my tongue down that crack. I didn't even stop for a second to reflect on how weird that was, I just enjoyed the chance to be near such a peach. Letting my libido make the decisions for a few seconds, I let my knuckles graze her tailbone as I pretended to fumble with the zip.

By the time I got it up, we were both shaking, and I felt a little lightheaded. I don't now what I looked like, but her cheeks were warmly flushed. Thank God that suit fit; I don't think I would have had the fortitude to survive trying on any more. It hugged her form no more or less perfectly than it had when she was wearing her underwear, but simply knowing that she was naked beneath made my heart race, especially when she took it outside to ask the attractive young assistant to check it. I couldn't help noticing him running a hand down her flank in the name of testing the suit's fit, and didn't miss her eyelids fluttering a little as he did so. I knew Maddy liked to think of herself as a little more mature than her years would suggest, but perhaps in thinking her still a kid I had underestimated her.

On the drive back she was quiet, tired out after a say at school and then a mammoth session in the shop. We hadn't managed to fit in a first lesson, but there would be plenty of time for that over the coming months. I was also in a reflective mood. I knew there had been occasions in the past when I had been attracted to the wrong kinds of girl - ones which were a bit too young for me, though usually only by a couple of years. I'd never acted on it, and thought perhaps that I just had a slightly kinky side to me which I could live with, without having to do anything about it.

But zipping up Maddy's suit had forced me to re-evaluate that. The soft curve of her back, leading into the swell of her backside. The little bumps which marked her vertebrae, all in a line, a line which morphed into the increasingly deep valley between her buttocks. The soft heat of her skin as the backs of my knuckles brushed across it, and the little shiver she gave as they did so. All these things were written indelibly into my memory.

My reaction, too. I wasn't nervous around women. I'd grown comfortable in their presence over the years, and although I wouldn't consider myself overly successful with the opposite sex, I didn't find it hard to get a date either. There just wasn't much time in my profession, despite what the films will tell you. Yet here I was with a girl who was barely on the road to womanhood and I was shaking, and feeling butterflies kicking up a storm in my stomach, and all I'd done was see a tiny little bit more of her backside than I saw every day when we swam. It didn't make any sense at all, but since when has sense come into it?

Back at the house she showed no sign of being affected by the encounter, so there was every chance she'd seen it as completely insignificant. I, on the other hand, couldn't get my mind off it until I'd tired myself out with my second swim of the day. Once I was done in the pool, had showered and eaten dinner, it had fairly much left my mind. That is, until Maddy came downstairs wearing - it appeared, at least - nothing more than a t-shirt, to say goodnight to her father while he and I waited for a conference call with the other side of the world. I tried not to stare, tried to keep my eyes focussed on the screen of the laptop in front of me, but it was difficult not to peek, just to see if my suspicion that she was naked beneath the shirt could be proven one way or the other. I think I was beginning to understand the problem I faced when I felt gutted that she hadn't even acknowledged my presence as she left the room.

***

I'll admit I started to get a little bit obsessed with my feelings towards Maddy. Not necessarily obsessed with her, you understand, but with trying to decipher why it was she had got into my head. I knew the logical conclusion of course, but I couldn't accept that as an answer. There had to be something else. Perhaps she reminded me of someone, and that's why I felt the way I did. She was certainly capable of sulking quite impressively, which was always a skill Anna had in spades. Anna had no compunction about sulking at me for days on end until I did what she wanted. Sometimes I didn't even know what she was grumpy about, and had to work it out, and then come to terms with how I was going to fix things. Yes, Anna could be a complete handful, but the rest of her made up for it. She was intelligent, as fit as an athlete and absolute dynamite in bed, and she couldn't get enough of me. It was an intoxicating mix.

Of course, I had no idea what Maddy would be like between the sheets, and in fact I actively sought to ignore the thought, but it was easy enough to see that there were bright sides to her personality.  When she wasn't sulky, she was a ray of sunshine. She cared about other people, too - I mean, really cared. She was always involved in some project or other involving the poorer members of island society, of which there were many. The slave trade had populated these islands, and was still taking its toll. Many children still lived below the poverty line, and Maddy was always petitioning her father to do something about it. To do him his due, Graham did what he could, but he was constrained by politics - this was an independent island, and as former colonialists we couldn't be seen to be interfering with the running of the place.

So, she cared about people. Just not me. It bothered me more than I should have allowed it to. She was always polite, and sometimes she would give me a high five in the morning as I got out of the pool, as if to congratulate me on a job well done, but otherwise she treated me just like any other member of her father's staff. I was, in effect, just a bit of scenery.

It was only on our surfing lessons that she really started to warm to me. She was scared at first, nervous around the big waves which crashed into the beach where we learned. I didn't have the heart to tell her they were actually only little wavelets, really; three or four feet at best, barely enough to stand up. But stand she did, on the second afternoon. The first we had spent with her growing increasingly frustrated with me as I tried to get her comfortable with the board, paddling it out and getting it lined up on the wave, before surfing it in on her tummy. By the end of our three hours together she was begging me to let her try to stand up, so I did, and laughed and dragged her bedraggled form out of the water each time she fell off.

On our second day at it, though, she stood, and even managed to ride a little wave all the way to shore. I rode in all the way alongside her, sitting on my board, encouraging her, and when we beached the boards she did a little jig and then hugged me around the waist. I was absolutely buzzing from that insignificant little contact for the rest of our time in the water.

When we were done, she made me hold up her towel for her while she struggled out of the wetsuit, shielding her from public view. She cautioned me not to dare looking, and I obeyed, no matter how strongly I desired to peek at her young body.

"You didn't even try to look," she said when she was done, sounding both surprised and impressed. She gave me a warm smile, then sauntered off to buy herself a drink. I watched her go, slightly mesmerised by the twin globes in her tight-fitting, very short shorts. She turned round half way to the drinks booth and gave me a much more cheeky grin.

***

The longer I lived on the island, the more relaxed I became. I stopped wearing smart shirts and formal trousers to work in during the day when I noticed that no-one else was similarly dressed. I began to take my security duties a little less seriously, too - I'd started off my time making a daily round of the property to check for any issues, but only a couple of months into my time there I had given up on them completely. There were no threats on the island. In fact, in my whole time there the only problem I had was with a burglar, who turned out to be so incompetent and pathetic that Graham personally took on his rehabilitation. The last I knew, he was the gardener at the house.

My more chilled out attitude brought other benefits, too. Maddy preferred me when I was being less of a 'suit', as she put it, and she conferred on me the honour of being her friend. All that meant was that I saw the sunny side of her more often, and even once in a while received a hug in passing. These seemed to be randomly distributed at first, but as time went on I realised the common factor - she only showed me that kind of affection when no-one else was around. When we were in company, there were little shy smiles when she was sure she couldn't be seen, but no physical contact.

I grew ever more pre-occupied with the theory that she was in fact flirting with me. When the idea first occurred to me, I went back across past events - such as her cries for help zipping up the wetsuit which she now seemed perfectly capable of fastening herself, and her surprise that I hadn't glimpsed at her changing when I had the chance - and found plenty of evidence to support my hypothesis. Of course I wasn't immune to the idea that little girls have crushes on older males in their lives, but at just a little over nine years old, I couldn't help thinking it was a bit early for Maddy to start feeling that way. Perhaps not, though.

Having started to think this way, I started to look for examples of her flirting, and it wasn't long before Maddy gave me just that.

"You're not as big as dad," she said as I hauled myself out of the pool one morning. She'd been standing there watching me go up and down, with one hand on her cocked hip. "I mean, you're taller, but you're not as strong as he is."

"Thanks," I replied, dryly. "It's always nice to be told you don't measure up."

She blushed, realising the faux pas she'd made.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. It's just that I thought you would be bigger than him because you're younger."

I shrugged.

"Bigger isn't always better in my line of work. It's not the size that counts, it's how you use it."

"Oh," she said, the double entendre going straight over her head. Oh, to be so young and innocent! "Do you think I need to have bigger muscles?"

She turned her body this way and that, showing off her slender limbs and well-toned body.

"Not at all," I replied, honestly. "I think you're perfect the way you are."

"Yeah, right. I can't be perfect with these stupid things," she said quietly, hands cupping the flat chest beneath her bikini top. Then she remembered she was talking to me, not one of her family, and she blushed bright red and without a second thought jumped in the pool. I watched her do a few lengths, but she was keeping her head down and refusing to make eye contact, so I left her to it, chuckling slightly to myself as I walked away.

Yep, definitely a little bit flirtatious, even if she didn't fully realise the implications of the way she'd acted.  

***

Another incident came a few weeks later, and this had the air of a juvenile come-on stamped all over it. It was the classic suncream ruse, though I've never seen it played by a nine year old before. We were relaxing on the beach after a surf lesson. Maddy was doing really well by this stage, standing up on her own and riding waves in, and beginning to turn the board a little. To be honest, there was little more I could teach her - she just had to keep practising, but we kept the lesson structure for the time being. It gave us both a good excuse to get some surfing in, and Graham was finding all sorts of little projects to keep himself amused while he didn't have to look after Maddy.

So, there we were on the beach, with Maddy having changed into one of her multitude of brightly coloured bikinis, just lying down for a while and relaxing in the sun, which had lost a little of its fury. Still, my skin wasn't yet used to even that quantity of radiation, so I covered myself in suncream. I was flexible enough to do my own back, and managed to resist the temptation to ask Maddy to do it for me.

"Could you put some on me?" Maddy asked, from her prone position.

Well, that was unexpected. She was nut brown from spending most of her life in the sun, and I hadn't expected her to need any protection. But an opportunity like this couldn't be passed up, so of course I agreed.

"Where do you want it?"  

"All over my back and my shoulders. Better do the backs of my legs, too," she said, casually, as if it was no big deal. But it was a big deal. It was a huge, massive, enormous, galactic deal which was only made larger when she reached a hand up behind herself and undid her bikini, then pulled it out and dropped it beside her. Now she was all but naked, and I began what amounted to a mix of applying suncream and administering an erotic massage.

She wasn't nearly as calm as she made out, for her shoulders trembled at the first touch of my hands. I decided to start in fairly neutral territory, rubbing cream into her upper back. I worked it in a little like massage oil, gently relaxing her muscles. She started tense - whether from the surfing or the situation, I couldn't be sure - but slowly relaxed, until she was all but purring. After a minute or so spent on her shoulders, which was far longer than I really needed and far less than I wanted, I moved further down her back. I felt the bumps of her spine beneath my fingers, and the individual ridges of her ribs.

She sighed and gave a contented little moan when I worked on the dense muscle groups either side of her spine, and gave a little wriggle of her hips as my fingers travelled further south over her lower back, to come to rest against the waistband of her bikini. I lifted my hands up to the middle of her back and repeated the act, but this time went a little further with my fingers, pushing down against the fabric of her bikini and revealing the start of the soft cleft of her behind. She gave out a little muffled squeak, and I knew that perhaps I'd gone a little too far, so I backed off and went back to my original task. I couldn't help noticing, though, that now her legs were clamped shut and she was rocking her hips, rubbing the insides of her thighs together. She was clearly enjoying this as much as I was.

With her back covered, and no excuse not to move further afield, I shifted down toward her feet, and began to cover the backs of her calves. They were definitely tight from the effort of surfing, so I spent a little while massaging them, hoping that anyone who might see us together on the beach would read it for what it was - a genuine desire to ease her muscles. What I did next had a lot less to do with loosening muscles, than it had to do with loosening morals.

As I worked on her thighs, I applied a little outward pressure. It was just enough to give her the hint that I wanted her to open her legs, but not enough to force her if she wasn't comfortable. She complied readily, though, and opened up until the crotch of her bikini stretched across the peach hidden beneath. I glanced around the beach again, finding no-one close enough to see what was happening as I pushed my hands up the length of her thighs, trailing my thumbs along the softest skin on the inside. Near the top, I flicked my thumbs out and ran my hands back down. As the pads of my thumbs passed through the crease between the bottom of her arse and the tops of her thighs she gasped, and her legs trembled. They closed a little of their own accord, but then she relaxed and let them fall apart once more. I ran my hands back up again, in the same way, though this time I pressed my thumbs into her skin as I pushed them out, and delighted in knowing that beneath the safety of her bikini her little cleft was being pulled wide apart. This time the gasp was replaced by a desperate sounding squeak, which morphed into a guttural moan. She didn't stop me, though. She didn't put an end to it. Quite the opposite, in fact. She spread her legs wider, inviting me to go further. The gusset of her bikini couldn't stretch as far as it needed to, and one little lip of her sex peeked into view. I moved my hands up her thighs once more, slowing just before the top. Could I do it? Could I touch her most intimate parts?

She jumped as the sky was torn asunder by a huge bolt of lightning. I jumped, too, and the moment was gone. I glanced up and found out we'd let the weather creep up on us. A storm was blowing in from the ocean. The sun disappeared behind a cloud, and Maddy twisted round to look, forgetting for a moment that she was topless. I didn't miss the chance to take a look, seeing nothing more than androgynous little nipples, pale pink against her skin. She quickly gathered up her top and, sitting up, tied it up behind her back.

"Looks like we ought to get back," I said, trying desperately to sound a lot calmer than I felt. She gulped and nodded, not meeting my eye.

***

We didn't say a word the whole way back to the house. She spent the entire journey looking out of the window on her side, though I could see the corner of her mouth curled up in a slight smile. She had slipped shorts on over the bikini bottoms, but that still left a wide expanse of slender thigh visible, and I smiled a little myself as I remembered what my hands had done not long before. Her hand was on her leg, drumming out a rhythm with her fingertips.

***

Of course, we couldn't discuss what had gone on, and certainly not act upon it, because nothing at all had happened, had it? Neither of us could possibly admit that our encounter was thoroughly imbued with sexual tension. I was just putting some suncream on her back and legs, nothing more.

And so nothing changed. She watched the last few minutes of my morning swim, and trailed her eyes up and down my body as I climbed out, but that was nothing she hadn't done before. I made no effort to hide the fact that I returned the look, and watched her glide through the water with longing in my heart and lust in my loins. Not for the first time in recent weeks, I retired to the safety of my shower and sought relief from the tension I felt, peering out through the shutters at the little nymph who swam back and forth, and decorating the shower wall.

Beyond that, there were tiny little signs that Maddy had neither forgotten nor decided to entirely ignore what happened. I caught her staring at me over the breakfast table one morning. She blushed and looked down, and my heart beat a little faster when I noticed that the hand not holding her spoon was under the table in her lap. Did I see her squirming a little? It was hard to tell.

Then there were the silly little grins we gave each other in passing, and the stupid excuses made to bump into each other, just as much on my part as hers. We constantly found opportunities to be in the same room, and when we got there did absolutely nothing about it.

The tension, though, was palpable. It astonishes me to think that no-one else noticed what was going on. Of course, they might have, and simply not told me. But if Graham or Olga had any compunction about me spending time with their daughter they didn't show it - in fact, quite the opposite: they encouraged Maddy and I to spend time together. Graham had me pick her up from school more frequently, and tasked me with improving her swimming when we returned from a surfing trip one day having had a rough time in the water. I tried to explain that it wasn't Maddy's fault that the rip had carried her off a little way before she could regain control, but that didn't satisfy Graham - he wanted Maddy to be stronger in the water, and so I agreed, not all that reluctantly, to spend more time with her.

***

It all boiled over in the same place it had started - at the beach, after a couple of hours' surfing. We were again caught in a storm, but this time it was a little different, because we were still out in the water when the rain swept in. I should've been paying attention, I know, but I was too wrapped up in the fun we were having. There was no lightning, at least not yet. It was just a squall, but it forced us from the water anyway, as the freezing rain pelted into us, and the air temperature suddenly nose-dived.

We raced from the water and got the boards strapped onto the roof of the Landie as quickly as we could, but by the time we'd opened the tailgate and jumped inside to get out of the rain we were both absolutely freezing. I grabbed a towel and started drying off Maddy's hair, and she angrily grabbed it from me.

"I can do it myself, you know," she growled at me. "I'm not a kid!"

I handed her the towel, abashed, but also a little indignant.

"I didn't do it because I thought you needed help," I said, sounding a little more angry and hurt than I intended. "I did it because I..."

But what was the end to that sentence? 'Because I love you'? Probably. But I couldn't say that to her!

"Because you what?" she asked, intrigued, perhaps guessing what I was about to say.

"Because we need to get you dry as quickly as possible, and get you warm, because you're not as big as I am," I said.

She obviously didn't buy the lie, but didn't say anything more. She quickly rubbed at her hair, and then in the cramped confines of the back of the Landrover, began to try to take off her suit. I looked away deliberately, giving her some privacy, glad that our heat and the humidity had steamed up the windows.

"This zip!" she exclaimed amid huffing noises. "Can you help me?"

I turned round, and she presented her back to me. The zip really was stuck this time, about half way down. It had snagged one of the seams. I worked it loose, and then without thinking ran it all the way down to the top of her backside. With her back to me, Maddy started to pull the suit off her shoulders, then pushed it down across her hips. I realised I was still staring at her, and whipped my head around guiltily just as the material cleared the gentle swell of her backside and bunched on her slender thighs.

"What, aren't I good enough to look at?" she snapped at me. I was shocked. I'd never before considered that she might have issues about her body, and construe my deliberate ignoring of her as a snub.

"Er, no, that's not it at all," I said, turning back to her.

My eyes almost fell out of my head. There she was kneeling with one hand on her hip, which was cocked out to the side. The wetsuit still clung to her thighs, but crucially she had turned half toward me, and I couldn't help but be given a view of her whole front, or at least the bit I normally wouldn't see. I took it all in in a moment - the little bumps which would one day be her breasts, and the gentle swell of her pudenda, rising from her otherwise sexless lower half to jut out like the little hill after which it was named, divided in its centre like the softest cleft on any peach in history.

"You're amazing, actually," I said, truthfully. "Absolutely stunning."

She smiled quickly, and blushed, and then the other side of Maddy came through.

"Well, don't sit there dribbling all day," she said, spinning round and sitting on her bottom, raising her feet to me in a position best described as 'come and get it'. "Help pull this off, it's stuck."

I grabbed the wet neoprene and pulled. It wasn't stuck at all, of course, but I took my time, pretending that it was, and all the while drinking in the sight of her exposed body. When finally I pulled the wetsuit free of her feet, she just lay there on her back for a moment, knees bent, legs open, and smiled shyly at me. Then she grabbed her towel, wrapped herself in it and said 'thanks' so quietly that I could barely hear her over the sound of the rain on the roof of the car.

Of course, that left only one person with his suit still on. Normally, I would send Maddy off to get us both a drink and quickly get changed beneath my towel once she was gone, but with her wrapped in a towel - and apparently in no hurry to put on her clothes - I was left in a bit of a quandary.

"Go on, you can get changed. I won't look, I promise!" she said with a giggle. It was obvious to me that she intended to look as much as she could, and so I decided to take the plunge. If she wanted a show, that's exactly what she would get. I took my time removing my suit, acting as if it was far more firmly attached to my body than it really was, mirroring her own simulated problems. When I forcefully pushed it down to mid-thigh and revealed all of myself to her, she gasped and covered her mouth with one hand, laughing.

I'm not the biggest of guys, and the sea had certainly shrunk things a little while we were out, but there's only so much stimulation I can ignore. Having watched Maddy getting naked I was already half hard, and exposing myself in front of her did the rest of the job for me - my manhood bobbed and rose up until it was pointing straight at her, a bead of lubrication dangling from its tip. Maddy stared at it and gulped.

"I don't believe it," she whispered. "Is that because of me?"

"Yeah, told you you're gorgeous," I said, more gruffly than I intended. I grabbed my towel and covered myself up as I dried off. All the time she sat there in her towel, unmoving, watching me with wide eyes. By the time I was done the squall had passed, and I excused myself, leaving a towel-wrapped naked little girl to get herself dressed while I went to get drinks.

By the time I returned to the car, she was dressed and sitting in the front passenger seat with a silly smirk on her face. I got in and gave her a warm smile and a cold drink, and we set off for home.

"Tom," she said, about five minutes into the journey. "Were you telling the truth about me, or were you just being nice?"

"The truth, of course," I said. "You saw what kind of effect you had on me back there."

She giggled and blushed divinely.

"Yeah, that was pretty impressive, huh?"

"All because of you, Maddy," I said, reaching across and placing a hand on her thigh. She put her hand on top and squeezed, then looked out of the window, smiling.

***

Our first moment of deliberate, unforced intimacy came a few days later. Now I knew for sure that she at least had a bit of a crush on me, if not more, I decided to make a move on her and see where it went. I'd already seen enough to believe that I wouldn't be totally rebuffed.

Graham and Olga had been invited out to a function, and had already agreed when the housekeeper, Martha, came down ill. She had been meant to babysit Maddy, but now she couldn't come, Olga was going to have to stay home. Graham came to me cap in hand and very contritely asked if I was going out for the evening. I knew exactly what was going on, and put him out of his misery, offering to stay in and keep an eye on her. He thanked me profusely, and assured me that I wouldn't really have to do anything, since Maddy would look after herself. I acted the pious, helpful servant, while in the back of my mind the cogs started turning.

As it turned out, I didn't need a plan to get near to Maddy that evening, because she already had a plan of her own. She knocked on the door of my room just after her parents had left, and then let herself in without waiting for a response.

"What if I'd been naked!" I exclaimed as she flung herself down on the end of my bed.

She shrugged.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," she said, with the utmost air of well-practised nonchalance. She couldn't keep up the pretence, though, and burst out laughing. I laughed with her, and walking over to where she sat I reached down and lifted her chin, staring into her expectant eyes. Her face took on a serious cast - my manner had suddenly changed, and young as she was she could pick up on the vibe.

"Can I kiss you?" I asked, lost in those deep blue eyes, desperately unable to stop myself from jumping in with both feet.

She blinked, her eyes damp, and nodded.

I leaned down, still cradling her chin, and placed a soft, gentle kiss on her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as I did so, and she shivered as our lips came into contact, but she eagerly returned my affections. It was a loving caress, sweet and innocent, devoid for the moment of sexual overtones. When I pulled away, she stayed there in the same pose for a moment, with her eyes closed. When she opened them she looked stunned, and fell back onto the bed, flinging her arms above her head and sighing.

I stood there looking down at her, reflecting on the milestone we'd just passed. It was out in the open now. Romantic love or juvenile crush, it made no difference, because now it was real. And judging by the look on her face, Maddy was content.

I could feel myself beginning to slide down a slippery slope here, with her on my bed and my hormones raging. The way she lay there, eyes shut, trusting, with her t-shirt pulled up and exposing a very kissable, taut tummy... I was close to doing something both she and I would both regret. Before I gave into my more base urges and took her there and then, I hatched a plan to slow things down and let myself cool off a little.

"How about a swim," I asked, and her eyes popped open, full of mischief.

"OK," she replied, and then dropped a bombshell, "but only if we go skinny-dipping."

Oh God, how I wanted to say yes to that, but the thought scared me shitless. It was away too much of a risk to take, even given what I'd already done with her on a public beach, which at best looked a little over-affectionate.

"Uh, I'm not sure -" I started, but she cut me off.

"Don't worry, silly, no-one can see us. We don't have any neighbours, no-one will come up to the house when mum and dad are out, and if we turn the lights off on the pool, we'll be able to see anyone coming in on the bottom road by their headlights. It's plenty of time to get back in and get dressed. Trust me, I know."

The last was said with a wicked glint in her eyes. It sent a bolt of excitement to my loins to know that she'd done this before, and by the sounds of it more than once.

"OK," I conceded, letting my hormones get the better of me, despite the fact that going swimming had been intended to cool me off. "But on one condition - we take our suits down to the pool so we can jump into them if we have to."

She gave me a disgusted look, but nodded anyway.

"You know, you're not as fun as I thought you were," she said over her shoulder as she left the room.

I stood there for a moment, so surprised by her swashbuckling attitude that I could only stand and stare at the empty doorway. A minute later a very naked little form whizzed past the door, skidded on the rug in the hallway, and returned to poke her head around the door.

"Come on!" she said, and then was off.

***

She was already in the water when I got there, lazily breast-stroking up and down. I'd almost slipped on my shorts for the walk through the house, but decided against it, no matter how wrong it felt. She stopped and stared unabashedly at my nakedness as I padded barefoot up to the edge and dropped my suit right on top of the impossibly small pile of material that was her bikini. Nerves stopped my manhood swelling, and it swung back and forth in the fresh evening air, making me feel even more naked, if that were possible.

Dusk was beginning to fall, and the pool was in deep gloom. The sun was hidden by a bank of cloud over to the west, but it would soon fall below the horizon and plunge us into complete darkness. The air was beginning to cool down, aided by the wind swinging round to the south, so it was no surprise to feel how warm the water felt, having been in the sun all day long. I made a shallow dive into the pool and came up right in front of her, making sure to get an eyeful of her body beneath the water.

I put my hands on her hips, and lifted her easily. Without hesitation she wrapped her legs around my waist, and brought our naked forms into contact. She felt magnificent as she twined her arms around my neck, and leaned in for a Hollywood style kiss. Clearly she'd been watching some romantic films which were probably a little old for her. Of course, I was in no position to moralise, because by now I'd shifted my hands to her delightful little bottom and was pulling her tightly into me, spreading her legs as wide as they could go.

She jumped and broke the kiss when my excitement poked her gently in the very centre of her backside. She gave me a confused look, which morphed into surprised understanding, and then pushed off me with a laugh.

"If you want to play like that you have to catch me!" she called over her shoulder as she darted away through the water. Well, I thought, I'm game for that, and took off after her.

She was quick enough that I only had to hold back a little for her to stay ahead of me, although there were plenty of grabs of her feet and ankles, and at one point a full handful of her thigh, as she suddenly stopped in front of me. We carried on that way for a while, until she deliberately swam into the corner of the pool and made sure she got caught. I grabbed her, span her around and picked her up again. This time she settled down with a sigh, with my thick shaft trapped between us, poking up through the sensitive folds of her girlhood. I grasped her backside, kneading it as I worked her up and down the length of my shaft, bringing myself off with her tender, young parts.

She looked into my eyes as I moved her up and down, until her focus began to drift away. As she found more and more pleasure in the motion of my manhood through the folds of her cleft, her eyes fluttered and closed, and a little moan escaped her lips. Her arms, which had been resting lightly on my shoulders, now clasped tightly around my neck, bringing her close to me. I desperately fought off my climax, determined to make her suffer the excruciating pleasure she was giving me. I needed to hear her cry out, needed to feel her shake uncontrollably against me as her climax ripped through her body. I needed these things to know that I had made her feel everything she made me feel, from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. I lusted for her day after day, and I was determined to make her feel every last drop of the agonising delight of that passion.

That she had the capacity to feel such intense pleasure became obvious as she suddenly stiffened and rose up, desperately mashing her sex against the steel-stiff tip of my shaft as her orgasm took her into the stratosphere. That was the signal for my pent-up passion to flood out of me in hot spurts, fired hard into her. I pushed her down so that my seed would enter her, to pass on my love, lust, desire, need for her. I felt the tight entrance to her most intimate place caress the head of my probing sceptre, and held her there as I erupted ever more forcefully, knowing now that we had mated. It was a primal, overpowering urge.

As we came down, she slumped against me, still shaking now and again. In the rapidly cooling water I became limp, and soon we were no more than lovers locked in a warm embrace, not passionate sexual beings. Eventually she lifted her head and looked at me through half-closed eyelids.

"I think I want to go to bed now," she whispered, and though my adult brain wanted to interpret that as an invitation, I knew that really she just wanted to go to sleep. I walked us both out of the pool, and carried her, still dripping wet, through the house. In her room I found her towel, and this time she let me lovingly dry her. She crept into bed naked, and I kissed her one last time, and then she was out like a light.

***

The next day she could barely look at me. I should've seen it coming, really - the doubt, the guilt, the fear; all those bad emotions which for some reason we're all programmed to feel after letting ourselves go like that. I felt pretty bad myself, for having taken advantage of her like that. Yes, she'd wanted it, and by God she'd been the instigator of at least part of what we'd done, but I was still the responsible adult who should've stopped it before it got out of hand.

I knew I had to talk to her, but it was proving difficult. It was a Saturday, so the house was full, not just with the usual host, but also with some visiting dignitaries from a neighbouring island. Of course, that nominally gave me something to do - I logged onto the computer and ran all the background checks I needed to on those staying with us, and in one case got some slightly interesting gossip, but there was nothing which constituted any kind of threat at all. So I slipped back into the role of Graham's deputy, and did everything I could to make our guests welcome.

Maddy had hidden herself away, as she often did when outsiders came to the house. Graham wasn't one of those pushy parents who insists their child turns out in their Sunday best for every visitor, and smiles perfectly like some trophy. His theory was that the guests were his, and if Maddy wanted to disappear off somewhere she was well within her rights to do so. Once I'd discharged my duties, and Graham and the guests were all sitting on the veranda overlooking the sea, I excused myself and went to look for her.

I found her high up at the back of the house, in a little nook which was all her own. Graham explained to me once how it had come about - the original plans for the house showed it having a second wing to the north. However, before work started the colony became independent, and there was no longer a need for such a large house. Rather than re-draw the plans completely, the builders were simply instructed not to build one of the wings, and to make the adjoining wall an exterior wall instead. The rest of the house was built to specification, so when it was completed, two dead-end corridors were found, which had been intended to lead to the north wing. Both went round a corner at the end, and then just stopped at a wall. A more recent addition was a small window high up in the wall, letting in a little bit of light. On one side of the house, the corridor had been turned into a gallery for some of Olga's pottery, and on the other it had been given over to Maddy, whose bedroom opened out onto the corridor. She had used old cushions and rugs to turn it into a little den, where she could often be found reading a book or drawing.

She was reading on this particular afternoon. She didn't look up when I came around the corner, but I could see she was red faced and shaking slightly, whether through nerves, fear, anger or distress I couldn't tell.

"Maddy?" I said softly. She stopped what she was doing and put the book down, but still wouldn't look up. She looked almost exactly as you'd expect a child to look when they knew they were about to get told off. I tried again.

"Sweetheart, look up, please."

She did so, and the tracks of the tears she'd shed were immediately apparent on her face.

"Oh sweetie," I said, kneeling down in front of her. "What's up? Why are you crying?"

"Because of what happened last night. I was so stupid acting like that, doing what I did. Bet you think I'm really stupid and childish and everything."

By the time she'd finished speaking, the tears were flowing freely again. I moved forward and grabbed her into a hug, and whispered into her ear,

"Maddy, what we did last night was brilliant. It was amazing. I loved it. Didn't you?"

She nodded.

"Well, then," I said, "what's there to be worried about?"

"Don't you think I was a baby for getting the good feeling on you?" she asked. I almost had to laugh, but stopped myself.

"Mads, that's a really adult, grown-up sort of thing to do."

"Oh. I thought only kids played with it, and then when you were older you did it properly. You know, with the sticking it in and everything."

"Well, yeah, you can do the proper thing when you're older," I said, stroking her hair. "But you can do that, too, and all sorts of other things."

"What sorts of things?" she asked, the tears gone now, replaced with a wicked grin.

"How about we go surfing for a bit, then I'll tell you later?"

"Yes!" she cried, and jumped out of my arms, rushing into her room to get her kit ready.

***

We had a great couple of hours in the bay. The tide wasn't quite right, but the weather was perfect, and the waves were just right for Maddy to gain a bit more confidence. I had fun just paddling around and bodyboarding.

As were we packing up and strapping the boards to the roof, Maddy glanced round to check we were alone, then said in a quiet voice,

"So, what are the other things you can do when you're doing sex stuff, then?"

"You really have to know now?" I asked.

"Why not?" she shrugged. "No-one else can hear you telling me. It's not like we can be alone tonight at the house anyway."

"Ugh, fine! So, other than the man putting his penis into the woman's vagina..." I started. Immediately she burst into fits of giggles.

"No, go on," she said, when she'd controlled her laughter. "It's just the way you're so serious about it!"

"Other than that, you can do things with your hands and your mouths."

"OK, the hand thing I get," she said, giving me a thoroughly explicit gesture demonstrating that she knew exactly what men do in the privacy of their own rooms, "but the mouths? Isn't that just kissing?"

I smiled, knowing knowing that I was going to give her one hell of a surprise when I explained.

"It's a bit more than that. The man can lick the woman between the legs, and the woman can suck the man's penis."

Her eyes went wide and she dropped the bag of clothes she'd just picked out of the back of the car. She stood there with the most astonished expression I can ever recall seeing.

"They do what?!" she exclaimed.

"Sucking and licking," I said, in a deliberately casual tone. She shook her head.

"You're lying. There's no way people do that. Why would they?"

"Because it makes the person on the receiving end feel very, very happy. And sometimes the person doing it, too. I like licking my girlfriend between the legs, 'cause I know how much she's enjoying it, which makes me feel good, too."

"Have you done that to lots of your girlfriends then?" she asked, incredulous.

 "Well, I've not had that many girlfriends," I answered truthfully, "but I've done it with most of them."

"And they liked it?"

"Loved it. Begged me to do it, sometimes."

"Am I your girlfriend?"

"I'd like that, but we'd have to keep it a secret."

"I know that, dummy," she said. "I want to be, I think. If I am, does that mean we have to do things with our mouths?"

I laughed at her logic.

"If you want to," I said. She grimaced, and shook her head.

***

By the time we returned to the house, a party was in swing, with a barbecue by the pool and a local island band playing. VIPs from all over the archipelago were in attendance, and unfortunately that meant that I was also needed. I mingled for a while, then snuck off to take some food to Maddy, who was hiding in her room with the door locked. She begged me to stay, but as one of Her Majesty's representatives on the island, I really was required outside. I left her with a pout on her face and a promise that we'd meet for a swim first thing in the morning.

It was a little harder than normal to haul myself out of bed at first light the next day, especially since I hadn't gone to bed that far before dawn. I'm not a heavy drinker, and years in the service had trained me in the art of operating without sleep, but there was no way I could match Maddy's enthusiasm. She was already in the pool when I got there, racing up and down, getting her daily workout.

Maddy stopped just long enough to scowl at me for being late, then continued her swim. I joined her, pushing myself fairly hard as a punishment for enjoying myself too much the night before; the effort also had the effect of cleansing me of a degree of the previous night's pollution.

As I came to the end of my final length, I looked up to see Maddy's legs dangling over the side of the pool directly ahead of me. She was sitting there, waiting for me to finish. As I stood up in the pool, she let her legs drift apart, and I could see the indentation of her juvenile slit running down from the mound above.

"If you like it so much," she said, noticing my stares, "maybe you should do the thing with your mouth."

I nodded.

"Not out here, though," I said. "Anyone could see us."

Maddy shrugged.

"Knowing mum and dad, they'll be in bed until lunchtime after a party like that. None of the guests are up yet, either. I suppose you're right, though. We better not."

"Doesn't stop us doing it in my room, though, does it?" I said, and she both grinned and blushed.

***

She lay back on my bed, and waited, her damp bikini discarded on the floor. Her naked form was glorious, like a marble statue in repose. My eyes hungrily traced from her sexless chest, across boyish hips to the swell of her mound and the tightly closed slit which dived down between her loose legs. I spent the time drinking in the sight of her as I slowly and teasingly undid the tie on my swimming trunks and peeled them down my legs. I wasn't hard, not yet, but as the cool air and the heat of her gaze both struck my manhood at the same time, it wasn't long before that was rectified.

I climbed onto the bed and loomed over her on all fours, leaning down to kiss her. She responded, wrapping her arms around my neck, and to my delight and astonishment, doing the same with her legs around my waist. She was an athletic girl, and was easily able to pull herself up and press her warm, damp sex against my shaft, squeezing it against my stomach for a moment before letting herself fall back down. It was a phenomenally erotic thing to have done, and I realised in that moment that although her small form made certain aspects of our lovemaking more difficult, it would definitely open opportunities for some truly different sex.

As she let go of her legs around my waist, she did the same with her arms around my neck, and let them fall to either side. We broke the kiss, and she looked up at me with a grin on her face.

"Are you really going to kiss me between the legs?" she asked with a giggle.

"Yep," I replied, leaning down to kiss her on the side of her neck, and then across her collarbone in little butterfly kisses. She writhed and squirmed at the contact, but what had threatened to turn to laughter instead became moans of pleasure as the tip of my tongue glanced across her tiny nipple. It hardened in response, so I took a few moments to run my tongue around and across the little nubbin. She pushed her chest up at me, desperate to increase the pressure, and the pleasure, and I gave her just that, delighted to know that she found it so arousing despite her undeveloped breasts. I gave the other nipple a little attention, too, but now I had her naked on my bed I was keen to sample her flavour, so I made my way south, trailing my tongue down across her sternum and around her belly button.

Even before I reached the soft swell of her mound she was aching her hips upward, trying to force it onto my tongue. I think she realised that given how good I had made the rest of her body feel, what I was about to do to her little fanny was probably going to be amazing, too. I held her legs down with my hands on her thighs, and then as I kissed and licked my way across the pad of her pudendum, I pushed them wide apart and opened her up.

Her scent hit me immediately. It was softer than a woman's. Less spicy, more mellow. It was a musty, earthy scent which filled my nostrils and made my mouth water. I looked down to see the ridge of her clitoris engorged with blood and standing proud, and beneath that the thin inner lips which led inside, into a deep pink hollow which was shut tightly. I reached down and thumbed open her sex, and still the hole at its base remained closed for business, until ever so slowly it winked open. Just the sight of it - a tiny little hole through which I couldn't even fit a finger - was immensely arousing. But I wasn't there to open her up, to force my way into her immature opening. No, I was there to give her pleasure, to make her feel the mind-blowing wonder of a thorough licking.

I began teasingly, though I hardly needed to make her want it any more than she already did. I licked around the outside of her outer lips, tasting the chlorine from the pool in the hollow between her thigh and her sex. As I flicked my tongue across the soft skin there, goosebumps came up all over her skin. She tried to guide her hips toward my tongue, but I avoided her motions until with a groan she clamped her legs around my head and grabbed handfuls of my hair, and forced me down onto her attention-starved quim.

That pushed my questing tongue between the fat folds of her lips and into the soft, wet, warm heart of her girlhood. I wriggled it around, tasting the slightest tang of urine and the much stronger nectar of her arousal. I pushed downward, desperate to sample more of her unique taste, and was rewarded as her innards spasmed and and my tastebuds were sent to seventh heaven as a sticky river of her juices flowed out.

My God, the flavour was divine, though I should've expected nothing less. She was sweet, like mango juice, but musty, too. In my mind I was transported back through time to Sarah Conway's bedroom, at the tender age of nine. She'd let me under the sheets to see, in private, what she had never shown another boy before. I had kissed her there, because that's what I'd read about in the copy of the Joy of Sex which my parents thought they'd hidden well enough from me, but hadn't after all. I remembered Sarah's little high pitched moans - surprise gave way to arousal, and she pushed my head down, much as Maddy did now. For a few moments I hadn't really enjoyed what I was doing, but when Sarah became wet, I became hooked. I'd forgotten quite how wonderful a little girl's muffin can be, until my tastebuds were assaulted by the flavour of Maddie's overheating slit.

The feelings radiating from her sex thoroughly astonished Maddy. I looked up with a mouthful of her swollen clit, and watched with sadistic pleasure as it became too much for her. She was frantically pounding at the bed on both sides of her, and then - fortunately - had the presence of mind to grab a pillow and moan loudly into it as she began to climb toward her peak. I flicked down, pressing at the pucker where her opening should have been, testing, stretching, probing. It opened a fraction, just enough to wrap around the very tip of my tongue. She was hot inside, and intensely flavoursome, and as I wriggled my appreciation she came with an almighty clenching of her thighs around my head and her tunnel around my tongue.

As each spasm hit her she groaned loudly into the pillow, and thrust her hips hard upward, fucking herself onto what little of my tongue was inside her. I had little choice but to ride out the storm I had forged, but I did so with pleasure.

When she came down at last, she flung the pillow aside and looked down at me in wonder.

"OK," she said, still breathless. "Now I get it."

I looked up at her with a wide grin on my face, and felt the cooling dampness of her arousal all around my mouth.

"See, told you so," I said, licking my lips and committing the flavour of her to my memory.

We both jumped in alarm as we heard her father calling out to her, telling her to get out of bed. She grabbed her things, wrapping herself in her towel for the short dash to her room.

"Sorry about that," she said, pointing to my still rampant and drooling manhood. "Next time, OK?"

She gave me a quick kiss on the lips, opened the door, checked both ways and darted off. I shut the door behind her as quietly as I could, and fell back onto my bed. It only took moments to find my own pleasure, which came in big, surging waves so strong that I felt lightheaded after they had passed.

***

Graham had every right to question why I was so distracted that day. I couldn't give any of the usual excuses - for a field operative, home doesn't really exist any more, so I couldn't be homesick - so instead I told him I'd heard through unofficial channels that my ex had been taken in for questioning by the FSB. He couldn't refute it, so I got away with it. It was a hell of a lot easier than explaining that I couldn't rid my mind of the image of his nine year old daughter lying naked on my bed, shouting her orgasm into a pillow while the entrance to her vagina clamped down on the tip of my tongue.

After lunch I offered to take Maddy surfing, and though the beach was far too crowded to try anything, on the way back I found a dead end lane off the main road and parked up long enough to crouch in the passenger footwell and pull off Maddy's knickers, shoving my head into the suffocating but glorious confines of her skirt to lick and suck at her soft, malleable lips. I pushed the limits, too, pressing at her tiny entrance until with a whimper the muscle gave way and I pushed my middle finger in past the first knuckle, until the tight ring lodged against the much thicker bulge of the second.

I worked her quickly to her peak, leaving her red in the face and panting, with a shell-shocked expression on her face. As we drove him I listened to her breathing slowly return to normal, although even after another ten minutes in the car to recover, she walked on very wobbly legs to the house, and immediately went for a shower and a lie down. Graham gave me a questioning look, and the only answer I could give was,

"Big swell today."

***

I couldn't stop thinking about her. I had to have her. I lay awake in bed that night desperately wishing she could be next to me. Tomorrow would be a school day for her, and there would be no chance to have our little dalliances during the day - the stolen kisses in secret corners of the house, the quick grope of her puffy sex when her parents were out of the room, or my personal favourite, her finger waved under my nose, covered in the dampness from between her lips, dampness which I had caused.

But there was no way to make contact with her, to suggest she come to my room. I couldn't risk walking past her parents' room to Maddy's - it was a dead end, and I would have no valid reason to be going that way.

My thoughts were interrupted by a buzzing from my bedside table. It was the unsecured local mobile I'd picked up, just to have a means of communication not monitored by the folks back home. Oh yeah, I know they can monitor each and every text and call, but with an unregistered SIM it's hard for them to do much with the information. Mostly the number attracted spam, but there were a couple of locals I'd met who passed me useful tidbits, not all of which I wanted to pass straight back to mother.

I picked it up, wondering which of the two options it would be, and was surprised to find it was neither. It read,

- R U AWAKE? M X

It wasn't a number I recognised, and I didn't know anyone who both had my number and held such little regard for grammar. Then it struck me - could it possibly be 'M' for 'Maddy'? My heart skipped a beat at the possibility, and I racked my brains, wondering how she could have got the number. I thought a nice, non-commital response would be safest, just in case it was her father, who'd discovered something and was trying to flush the truth out of me.

- Yep. Can't sleep.

I sent it fluttering off through the airwaves on a current powered by the butterflies which were dancing madly in my stomach. I didn't have to wait long for a response.

- ME NEITHER. KEEP THINKIN ABOUT UR FINGER IN MY FANNY ON THE WAY BACK 2DAY.

Well, that sealed it. Either this was definitely Maddy, or Graham had got very last detail out of her and wasn't afraid to use it to trap me. I didn't even have to make a decision, though, for it was taken out of my hands. A moment later there was a soft knock at my door. I rose quickly and opened it, knowing it would be Maddy on the far side. She darted past me into my room, and dived onto the bed with a soft giggle. I locked the door, double-checking that it was definitely secured, then turned round to one of the sexiest sights I've ever seen.

She was wearing a man's t-shirt, and nothing else. She lay back on the bed, supported by her elbows, with one leg bent and its foot pressed against her opposite knee, she flashed me her most private place from beneath the soft white cotton of the only thing she had on. Her lips were red and glistened with wetness, and her clitoris stood out proudly between them; clearly she had been getting herself ready.

"I put a finger in," she said casually, watching for my reaction, "but it didn't feel as good as yours. And I can't lick myself there, either. Please can you do it for me?" she asked with a pout. "Pretty please?"

I grinned at her little act, and walked toward the bed, divesting myself of my shorts as I did so, letting loose the rampant shaft which they had struggled to contain. She gasped at the sight of it, and shuddered, her eyes narrowing to two tiny slits. She'd seen it before, so I could only imagine the reaction was because she was thinking about where it might go, now that my finger had paved the way.

"I'll do whatever you want," I said, "but only when you tell me how you got my mobile number."

She rolled her eyes and gave a little laugh.

"You're such a dummy. You left it unlocked on the dinner table last night when dad called you into his study. I quickly used it to call mine. Go on, look - it's in the history."

I did as she suggested, and she was right - there it was, a call to the unknown number a little over 24 hours before. I smiled at her ingenuity.

"Very clever," I said. "So, what was it you wanted me to do?"

I knelt above her on the bed, then leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips, then her cheek, her ear, her neck, her collarbone. I kissed all the way across her chest, stopping at each nipple to give them both some attention. I was just about to move on to the delicate skin of her stomach when I felt two hands upon my head.

"Wait! Stop, don't do it yet. I remembered I owed you."

I didn't bother to correct her, to tell her that it wasn't about taking turns and being even. That could all wait. No, what I wanted to see was what exactly she would do to redress the balance.

She leaned up and gently pushed my shoulder, easing me down to lie on my back. Her leg swung over my waist, and she was straddling me. She leaned down to kiss me, grinding her sex into the firm muscles of my stomach, groaning a little into my mouth as I kneaded the pert cheeks of her behind. I helped the rolling rhythm of her hips, enjoying the way she writhed about on top of me. By the time she pulled away and broke the kiss we were both panting with excitement. Oh, how I desperately wanted to push her down, to slide her hips down my stomach until the tip of my rock hard shift pressed up against the soft, damp folds of her sex. But that could wait, until she had done what she promised, and had given me pleasure.

She leaned forward again, but this time her lips went to my neck, my collarbone, my chest. It was a fair imitation of what I'd done to her, so I wondered what the next few minutes might have in store for me - unless she had some extra knowledge, she was going to be confused when she got down between my thighs. For now, though, I just enjoyed the sensations she was giving me.

She kissed ever lower, all the time smearing the copious leakage from the tip of my manhood all across her stomach and chest. When it bumped into her chin she stopped with a little squeak of surprise, then looked up at me with a giggle. Still watching my expression, the smile faded from her lips and she became entirely serious as she lifted it with one hand and slipped her lips over the tip. Where the hell did she learn that? It seemed like one minute she was completely naive, and the next she knew exactly what she was doing. She stopped and looked up at me, grinning at my confused expression.

"I've been on the internet," she said with a grin. "There's videos on there for everything. People do some weird stuff."

She frowned, but then shrugged and popped her head back down, sucking in the head and about and inch of the shaft, and bobbing up and down. Every so often her little tongue would flick back and forth over the nerve-packed skin of my glans, taking me nearly to the edge, but stopping before I got there. I had to stifle my groans as she expertly fellated me; she'd clearly taken good note of the lessons she found on the web. She stopped for a moment, grinning at me, pleased with the mess to which I had been reduced.

"I thought you would - oh!"

She was stopped short and gave a little cry of surprise because the smile she had on her face when she lifted her head had taken me right over the edge. She still had a hand around my shaft, and pointed my spewing manhood toward my navel. I coated myself in a truly prodigious quantity of my own seed, all the time watching Maddy laugh herself silly.

"Oh my God," she said when I finally slowed to a dribble and then stopped altogether. "I didn't know it would be that much. I'm glad that didn't go in my mouth. That was really close!"

"It's OK if it does go into your mouth, it won't hurt you. Some women even like to swallow it. And it's only that much because you're so cute, and you sucked me so well."

She looked down with a blush rising in her cheeks.

"I did it OK, then?" she said quietly.

"You were amazing," I replied, in all honesty.

"You don't mind that I didn't do it properly and let you spurt in my mouth?"

I shook my head emphatically.

"Of course not! The only thing is, I can't move in case this drips all over the bed."

She laughed and bounded up, grabbing my towel from my bathroom.

"Is this OK?" she asked, and when I nodded, rather than handing it to me she instead knelt on the bed and lovingly cleaned me off.

"Right," she said when I was done, "now it's my turn!"

How could I possibly turn her down? I grabbed her and threw her onto her back, wasting no time in applying my wriggling tongue to her most sensitive parts, delighting in the way she arched her back as the pleasure took her.

"Mmph! Tom!" she said, grabbing handfuls of my hair and pushing me down hard into her crotch.

"Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow..." she repeated when I gently eased first the tip and then the first half of my middle finger into her tight tunnel. It clamped and squeezed down hard on me, and quivered, and then went suddenly very loose. Her tunnel was still tight as hell, but now I could easily slide in my whole digit, and as the thick knuckle passed in and out of the hard ring of muscle at her entrance, she became ever more frantic.

When she came, it was with my finger buried to the hilt in her soft passage, its tip curled up to massage the fat, pulsing pad of her clitoris through the thin wall of her vagina. She held her breath as her hips bucked frantically, then let it all out in one big whoosh. I slipped my finger free, and let her clit free from the nibbling of my lips and the flicking of my tongue, and she curled up into a ball with her eyes squeezed tightly shut, and shivered.

I spooned up behind her and held her tightly to me. She grabbed my arm and hugged it, apparently clinging on for dear life. She fell asleep like that, naked on my bed, covered in sweat in the muggy heat of another tropical night.

It was only in the early hours, when a thunderstorm came rumbling though, that we both woke. She had slipped from my grasp, and lay face down. I opened my eyes to find her looking at me, with her hands in her crotch and her hips rocking up and down.

"Need a hand there?" I asked, and with a wide smile she rolled onto her back, presenting her body to me.

"Nope!" she replied with a giggle, as she pushed her finger in and out of her immature quim.

Fair enough, she was her own girl. But that didn't stop me grabbing myself and slowly wanking off as she frigged herself. She raised herself to a peak quite quickly, and with a much more controlled squeak she came. I was still nowhere near, having drained myself throughly only a few hours before.

I raised myself to my knees, only interested now in my own release, and pushed her legs apart, moving between them. There was a little apprehension on her face, but she smiled as I positioned myself so that I could press the head into her crack.

"I'm going to try to put it in, OK?" I asked, knowing that I was asking a leading question. She just nodded. I shouldn't have done it so quickly, perhaps, but she had shown amazing flexibility in being able to take my finger, so I thought I would at least try.

She looked down to where my manhood was pressed between the fat lips of her sex. I ran it up and down, enjoying the feeling of her slippery smooth skin. She gave a little grunt each time the fat head squeezed her clit out the way, and her eyes drifted shut as her head titled back.

Her entrance was a tiny little opening, and I almost backed out of it. Her eyes flicked open when I paused, and she gave me a questioning look. Coming to my senses at last, I said,

"Maybe we should wait."

I was astonished, though, when she shook her head vehemently.

"I'm a big girl, I'm ready," she said.

All rational thought fled my mind, and without further delay I pushed gently but firmly forward.

It seemed to take an age of constant pressure, with gentle little humps of my hips, to make even the slightest progress. This wasn't the way I imagined it, so I lay down next to her and pulled her to me, lifting her leg over my hip. I cupped her face with my hand and leaned in to kiss her. She responded hungrily, giving a surprised little hum when my manhood pressed into her sex as I pushed forward my hips. We stayed this way for some minutes, just the tip of my shaft pressed into her damp vulva, making no effort to penetrate while we kissed. When I felt her beginning to respond with gyrations of her own, I knew it was time to try.

Reaching down a hand behind her backside, I positioned myself at the soft, hot dimple in the very core of her being. With our lips still locked in a passionate kiss, I pressed ever so slowly forward.

She broke free of the kiss and started panting as she was stretched wide by my invading member. Her eyes clamped shut and then she buried her face in my shoulder, groaning and shaking with the effort of accepting me. There was no sudden rush as I entered her, just a constant, incredible pressure to fight against. I held her, amazed at her ability to accept me, and grateful for the gift she had just given me.

Our lovemaking was slow. She couldn't take me, not really. The tight ring of muscle at her entrance never passed beyond the flare of my glans, but what she did manage to take was sheathed in a tunnel so tight that it was excruciating to push forward each time. Yet the pleasure was so great that the pain was more than worth it. When I reached my peak I had been on such a high for so long that I barely noticed it happening, until I painted her grasping canal with what mediocre emission I could muster.

With an enormous sense of relief I pulled free of her, and grabbed her to me, plastering her face with kisses of love and affection. She smiled at me, her pride at getting so close plain to see.

***

I couldn't send her back to bed, not after taking her virginity. She stayed with me, slumbering peacefully until the first rays of morning light burst through the open shutters. I kissed her awake, snuggling her to me, and we held each other tight in a loving embrace which had nothing at all to do with sex. She was embarrassed by her nudity, now that the needing of the night before had been satisfied, but I made sure she realised how amazingly beautiful her body was. She blushed at my words, and gave me a shy smile.

She left me to get dressed, and together we went down to take our morning swim. By the time we had finished, her parents were up, and our time alone together was finally ended.

***

If the day before I had been distracted, this day I was the polar opposite. I was focussed and in control. I had an energy I'd not had since I was last on operations, and I knew what caused it: there was no distance left to go with Maddy. We'd passed all those little milestones, and now I knew that all there was left to do was enjoy each other's bodies. There were no hurdles now; she had accepted me into her body once, and she would again. It hardly even mattered how long it was before that happened, because we'd been there once. We could try all sorts of things, have sex in countless places and endless positions, and there would never again be that sense of incomplete satisfaction.

I made a decision that day, too. A commitment to her - the next time I was inside her, she would know what it was like to reach her peak from the shaft which was sheathed in the intense heat and pressure of her immature sex. I would hold off my own pleasure until she knew how it felt to spasm around my thick, adult manhood. I would hold her in my arms while she shivered and shuddered her way through her climax.

I was absolutely determined.

***

Her text came early that night. I was still downstairs with her father, discussing an upcoming diplomatic mission.

- I DONT WANT 2 2NITE

I tried to hide my disappointment from Graham as I read the text and pocketed it.

"Anyone interesting?" he asked with a slight smile.

"No, nothing much."

"I know what's going on, you know," he said, again with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

I panicked, thinking he'd rumbled Maddy and I, but I needn't have worried.

"I know you're developing your own little network and keeping it from Mother. Just be careful, yes? After all, it was developing your own networks which got you sent out here in the first place."

I nodded and said nothing, trying not to let on quite how fast my heart was beating. Thank fuck he'd misconstrued.

I went to bed alone, though I quickly became hard. It took no time at all to bring myself to a shuddering orgasm, but it wasn't close to being satisfying. I slept fitfully, disturbed by dreams of Maddy's soft, naked body.

***

"I have to take the trip, unfortunately," Graham said, as we had our daily catch up just after breakfast the next day. "Two days out, a couple there, and the same sort of journey back. Not my favourite part of the job, but sometimes it can't be avoided. You can have a few days off while we're gone."

"Yeah, no problem. Is Olga going to go with you? You could make it into a little mini break. That'd take the pain out of it."

"I think she'd love to, but someone needs to be here to look after Maddy."

"Well, I could do that," I replied, trying to be casual about it, desperate not to let on that I wanted nothing more in the world than the chance to be alone with her for a few days.

"That's very kind of you, Tom, but I can't ask you to do that. Maddy's off school that week, so you'd have to have her the whole time. You wouldn't have a break at all."

"This whole job's a break, Graham," I said with a shrug. "If I don't have any duties for a week, all I was going to do was pick up some light camping gear and go and explore the north end of the island, that bit which is pretty much uninhabited. I could take Maddy with me, and you could have a bit of time off."

"No, I can't ask you to do that, Tom. It would be too much," he replied. But I could see by the look in his eyes that he was wondering if perhaps it might not be a bad idea after all.

***

It was Olga who made up Graham's mind. She was far more direct than he was, and far more willing to take my offer on face value.

"It would be lovely," she said over dinner. "Maddison has never been camping, have you Maddison?"

Maddy glared at her mother for daring to use her full name, but Olga just ignored it. It was a long-running battle, and I sensed both mother and daughter would be unlikely to back down any time soon.

"Are you really sure about this, Tom?" Graham asked, still desperate not to impose on me.

"Of course he is," Olga answered for me. "We would be very pleased for you to take Maddison with you, Thomas."

And so that was that. Maddy came to me in my room that night, and though we didn't have long, she drew my seed from me, lifting her delicate lips free of my shaft as the first volleys fired out.

"Camping is going to be fun," she said, as she drew pictures in the pool of ejaculate on my stomach. She let me finger her to a quick peak, then retired to her room, waggling her sexy little bottom at me on the way out of the door.

Yep, it will be fun, I said to myself, and my manhood stiffened at the prospect.

***

We could hardly wait for the coming fortnight to pass. Chances for Maddy and I to be alone were few and far between, and at one point, after four nights in a row when we hadn't had a chance to see each other, I resorted to fingering her in the pool during our morning swim. She came good and hard that morning, gasping at the intensity of her pleasure, amplified by the risk we were taking. Feeling the heat of her tunnel against the cool water of the pool was especially erotic.

But eventually the morning came. A car came to take Graham and Olga to the airport, and almost the very second they were out of sight, Maddy was in my arms, kissing me while I held her up by her gorgeous little bum.

"We need to get the kit together and head off, you know," I said to her as she looked at me with wickedness in her eyes.

"We haven't done it again yet," she said. "We did it that once and then you haven't tried to put your willy in me again. I want to do that before we do anything else."

My God, those were the sweetest words I'd ever heard. She wanted to make love, wanted to feel me moving within her. She wasn't just agreeing, she was actively asking. How could I possibly refuse?

I took her to her own bed, and surrounded by her teddies I lay on my back while she knelt above me and took charge. She sat slowly, pushing my manhood back through the folds of her sex until it lodged at the opening of her hole. Her lips bulged around my glans, then I began to feel the intense tightness of the ring of muscle at the beginning of her silken pocket. She was maybe less tight than she had been, a sign that her own fingers had been working away in her quim while mine had been absent. She was still painfully tight though, as she worked her hips carefully up and down until she could take no more and stopped with a sigh. She peered down between us at the sight of my thick manhood forcing her lips wide apart, making her little clit stand out proudly. I reached up and pressed my thumb into it and she gasped, and giggled, and I felt her soft walls contract tightly around the head of my manhood. I wriggled the pad of my thumb back and forth over her stiff little bean, pressing it into the hardness of my shaft just behind. She started to groan and shudder, and I felt myself slipping a little deeper inside, delighted at the effect it was having. She was stuffed with a couple of inches of me, genuinely penetrated now, regardless of how shallow it might be.

She eased herself up, pulling deliberately away from the assault on her oversensitive button. The sensation of her tight sheath sucking at my glans was absolutely out of this world. I groaned and arched my back, and then thrust up into her. Her little giggle of delight at the feelings she was giving me was cut short by the sensation of me rushing back into her. She gave a little 'oof', and fell forward onto my chest.

"You OK?" I asked, and she nodded her head emphatically. I reached down and cupped her gorgeous little cheeks, running my hands over them as I began to gently thrust my hips up at her. With each flex of my hips, she became wetter and a little looser, until I was pumping rapidly in and out. Her arms and legs began to shake and twitch, and she made a continual whimpering sound. She started mumbling words which slowly became intelligible.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," she was saying, over and over, and so I obeyed.

I kept my little thrusts going until I could feel myself beginning to boil over. I knew there was no way I was going to be able to stop myself, not with this sort of stimulation, so instead I grabbed her hips and fucked her harder and harder until she flopped around like a rag doll on top of me. Then, with frightening intensity, every muscle in her body went stiff, and she came. Her tunnel grabbed painfully at my shaft, squeezing it until I thought it might come out bruised. I could only imagine the intensity of the feelings she was having as she bucked and writhed, grabbing handfuls of the sheet either side of my body and growling as her orgasm destroyed her.

We lay there for some time afterwards. I softened and slipped from her stretched hole, making her gasp at the sensation of my skin rushing past her sensitive lips. I held her tight, feeling the goosebumps rise on her back as the cool breeze from the air conditioning dried the sweat on her skin. Eventually her ragged breathing calmed, and I realised she was asleep. She didn't stir when I rolled her to one side, wrapping her in a sheet. I left her there to slumber, while I went downstairs and began to load up the Landrover with the things we would need.

A couple of hours later I had packed everything I thought we might need, and had just finished tying the surfboards to the roof when she emerged from the house. Her hair was a mess, and she walked strangely. She was wearing one of my t-shirts and, as far as I could tell, nothing else. It wasn't a very big t-shirt...

"You about ready to go, sweetheart?" I asked her. She nodded.

"I think so. Can I have a shower though? I'm covered in all your stuff down there and it's beginning to leak out of my fanny, and I'm all sticky."

I walked over to her, lifted her into my arms and carried her inside, gently kissing her cheek and back as I did so. Though holding her this way made me desperately keen to go for round two, I managed to control my feelings for her, and set her down in the family bathroom, running a shower for us both. She stood under the water and purred as my hands ran back and forth over her body, gently soaping her. She let me gently wash between her legs, and I crouched down to kiss her mound in supplication, which made her giggle delightfully.

"Come on," I said, leading her out of the spray and grabbing a towel. "Let's get going."

***

The scenery at the north end of the island was absolutely spectacular. The central peak hid it from us in the south, and with little shelter from the ocean and the storms which rattled through, the north side was almost devoid of inhabitation. It was rough and rocky, with grass covered peaks rising like islands in a sea of trees. As we reached the very northern tip, where the road became little more than a dirt track, a beautiful beach was revealed to us. Had it been a little more accessible perhaps it would have been popular, but other than us and a handful of birds the strip of white sand was deserted.

"We've got a choice," I said to Maddy as we came to a halt overlooking the beach. "We can camp at the top of the beach, or we can head back up the trail a way and find some open ground on the hills."

"Beach!" she exclaimed, breathlessly. I smiled and nodded, and killed the engine.

"Come on then," I said. "Let's get a shelter up. Then we can have a hike back the way we came and look at those waterfalls we saw on the way."

She nodded, and jumped out, eager to get going. Unlike a lot of kids her age, Maddy was more than happy to be involved in putting the tent up. Actually, tent is stretching it a bit. Out of the rainy season we didn't really need much protection from the elements, but for what I had in mind some privacy was required, so I erected a barrier around a little spot above the high tide mark, where I could hang some hammocks between the palm trees. A couple of hours later we were all set.

The walk to the waterfalls was short, but sweaty. Maddie went ahead of me, and I found myself presented with the most wonderful sight - her small, perfectly round bum encased in tiny, tight cut-offs, with the entire expanse of her slender legs beneath. On top she wore a simple t-shirt, but one which was clearly an old favourite - it was faded and frayed, and too small, and it stuck like a second skin to her body. She might as well have been naked ahead of me, though somehow the fact that she was barely covered up made it that much more alluring.

When we reached the falls we'd seen from the road, we were disappointed to see another car there, the first we'd seen for a good couple of hours. An overweight American couple were standing by their hire car, the man talking loudly to his wife about how glad he was that he'd listened to the hire car man about the north end of the island. Cursing to myself that the spot was not private, I decided to make the most of it anyway, and we walked past the couple, giving them a cursory greeting as we went.

The falls were just as spectacular as they'd promised to be as we drove past, a huge curtain of water dropping thunderously into a green pool below. It would've been perfect for a swim, but with the intruders there we were less free than I would have liked. Instead, we skirted right around the falls to a rock ledge where we could reach out and dip our hands in the falling water. Maddy tried to push me in, but I was too well balanced, and threatened to give her a dunking. With her screaming and wriggling in my arms I finally relented, and pulled her back to safety, where she berated me.

As we left, we once again passed the tourists, who were still standing there by their car, occasionally taking photos and discussing the beauty of the place. I tried not to make eye contact, but somehow the man got my attention.

"Hey, buddy," he said, sounding every bit a cliche, "you know if you follow the river up a bit, the guy who rented me this car said there's an even better fall. We'd go up ourselves, but Diane has a bad knee. I bet your daughter would love it."

I wasn't that bothered about going any further into the woods, but Maddie insisted we looked. I should've thanked the American guy more profusely, because what he guided us to absolutely blew my mind.

The second falls were no higher than the first; in fact, they were probably somewhat shorter, and far less water tumbled down the rock face. No, what set these falls apart was the setting - a forest glade lit up by shafts of sun which burst through the canopy of leaves above. A gently tumbling fall, running into a clear, deep pool below. Once, this would have been a great cascade of water, and perhaps in the right conditions it still was, but with the worst of the storms now over for the year, it was a much tamer thing.

And it was completely isolated. Once she'd stopped being awed by the sheer beauty of the place, Maddie turned to me with a sly grin.

"Tom, I'm really hot after the walk. Can we go for a swim?"

I had to admit, the pool was perfect, but there was one little flaw.

"We didn't bring any suits, Mads."

She gave me that grin again, and shrugged.

"You want to skinny dip?" I asked, and she gave me an over-enthusiastic nod of the head.

"But you have to come in, too," she said.

I could have objected. It was dangerous - after all, if the tourists had known about this place, then surely other would, too. If we were caught naked together, who, in today's climate of fear, would imagine that it was the least bit innocent? Of course, it wasn't, but still... I started to line up excuses in my head, but they all faded to nothingness as Maddie unzipped her shorts and with a wiggle of her petite hips worked them down her thighs to pool, along with her panties, around her ankles. She raised her arms as if to say 'ta-dah!', then stepped out of them, slipped free of her t-shirt in one fluid move, and dived straight out of her flip-flops and into the deep water. She surfaced in the centre of the pool, running her hands back through her long hair to pull it away from her face. She gave me a smile which was full of joy, and playful desire. I cannot remember ever losing my clothes so quickly.

When I dived in, I swam to her, taking her in my arms and treading water as she wrapped her legs around my waist. The cool water kept me from becoming overtly aroused, but the feeling of her skin against mine was a new definition of sensuous. I kissed her passionately, and found the kiss returned with interest. She humped her hips against me, and I could feel the hard bead of her clitoris rubbing against my stomach, as beneath her backside my fingers gently traced the outline of her lips. I let my fingers slip into her hot little slot, gliding in on a coating of her lubrication, and pressed my finger into her tunnel up to the first joint. For a moment I entertained the possibility of taking her in the pool, while the water fell all around us, but even as fit as I was I couldn't tread water for long enough to make it happen. There was a rock, though, near the curtain of water which fell gently into the pool, and I hatched a plan.

Sculling us over there, I lifted her backside onto the rock, and managed to put my feet down on the bottom. That left me at eye level with her perfectly smooth, gently sculpted slit. With a grin she put her hands back on the rock and lifted her hips at me, presenting herself to my mouth. I didn't need to be asked twice, and dived between her legs.

She tasted clean and fresh to start with, but as I delved deeper and wormed my tongue between her lips and into the pocket at the base of her slit and on into her tiny hole, the spicy flavour of her arousal bombarded my senses. I eagerly poked her with my tongue, feeling her open up a little. I licked around inside her, widening her entrance, then brought up my finger to push deep inside. My tongue, no longer needed within her hole, instead concentrated on her stiff little bean, bringing a loud groan from her lips as the pleasure suddenly hit. The thick second knuckle of my middle finger squeezing in and out of her tight entrance, combined with the flicking of the tip of my tongue across her bump brought her to a gentle little orgasm soon after. She whimpered and rolled her hips, clamping her eyes tight shut and shuddering as her climax wracked her body.

I grabbed her hips and slipped her into the water, and she gasped as the coldness hit her puffy, reddened sex. I held her close to me, kissing her lightly on the cheek and neck as she clung on with arms around my neck and legs around my waist. When she had recovered we swam a little longer, then climbed out to dry ourselves off in the warmth. As tempted as I was to play some more, Maddie was no longer interested and so eventually we dressed and made our way back to the beach.

That evening we sat and watched the waves rolling in, with a meal cooking over a crackling fire. The stars came out above us, and it really was the most perfect evening. I'd brought a bottle of wine, and gave a little to Maddie, and afterwards we lay back looking up at the Milky Way scattered across the deep black sky. She fell asleep snuggled into my side, and as I felt sleep taking me, too, I lifted her into her hammock and rolled into mine.

***

The next day dawned bright and sunny, as did most on the island. Maddie was still asleep when I rose, but joined me a little later as I cast a line out to sea, to see if I could catch us some breakfast. She came sleepily up to my side, and wrapped an arm around me. I looked down and kissed her on the top of her head, and smiled to myself. She was utterly naked, and looked ravishing. I could see the delicate mound of her pubis rising from her finely toned tummy, split by the crease which led inside to her most intimate place. In my mind's eye, I could imagine what she looked like from behind, with her blonde hair spilling down her back, the concave curve of her back, her narrow hips and the round swell of her pert little backside above her slender thighs. Of course, my view was even better.

"Do you have a clue what you're doing?" she asked, drawing a laugh from me.

"Of course I do! I'll have something caught before you know it."

"Hmph," was all she said. She stayed a little longer, leaning in to me, and then wandered back up the beach to sit in the shade of the shelter, still making no move to hide her nakedness.

Of course, she was right. I caught absolutely nothing at all, and she mocked me for my inadequacy, which earned her a very rough tickling. Squealing, she begged me to stop before she weed herself; when I put her down, she immediately scampered off and crouched down in the trees a little way off, and then dashed into the water to rinse herself off. When she emerged, she looked like a nine-year-old supermodel walking up the beach toward me. What a magnificent sight!

Once I'd made us some food from supplies, she wanted to go back to the waterfall and bathe there, and so we did. This time, I managed to resist involving her in any shenanigans, and we did nothing more than wash ourselves in the clean water, then climbed out to dry off in the sun.

Our day was to be given over to a big hike up into the hills, so we returned to the camp and picked up some proper shoes and a day pack, and took the Landie. We made our way back up the dirt track from the beach and took a turning onto an even less-travelled path which quickly gave away to open grassland. We dumped the car at the end of the identifiable track and took off on foot instead, sticking where possible to the shade of pockets of trees. It was hard going, but the rewards were spectacular - before long, we were high up in the hills, looking down over the south and east sides of the island.

"We really are alone up here, aren't we?" Maddie asked at one point, when we'd paused to sit on a fallen tree in one of the little woodlands which poked up like islands from the long grass.

"Oh, yeah. I chatted to some of the local guys I've got to know, and no-one bothers to come up here at all. I don't think we'll see anyone else today."

"Good!" she said with a wicked grin, and swung herself down onto the ground to kneel between my legs. She pushed my knees apart, and pulled my hips forward. Her fingers went straight to my zip, and with my help she worked my shorts and boxers down to the ground. She reached forward and took my rapidly inflating manhood in her hot little paw, and when it had hardened enough, she leaned forward and slipped it into her mouth. Sitting out there in the open, with my beautiful nine-year-old girlfriend fellating me might well have been the highlight of my life up to that point. She was so delicate, her technique gentle, and loving. She was making a devotion to me with her mouth. She could fit just as little of me into her mouth as she could accept into her sex, but every square millimetre of that was subjected to the most exquisite pleasure in the soft, warm wetness within. Her hair fell forward into my lap, obstructing what was a wonderful view, but the sensation of those soft strands tickling the skin of my crotch and thighs only made the enjoyment that much more intense.

In no time at all I felt the sudden rush of my oncoming orgasm. I warned her it was coming, but that just made her suck harder, and grab onto my shaft with her hand. Panting, I unloaded into her mouth. She stopped to catch my load, lifting her head until her lips were wrapped around the very tip only, letting her mouth fill with my seed. Then, looking up at me with tears in her eyes, she very carefully and deliberately swallowed the lot. It didn't look easy, but when she was done she gave me a bright smile.

"Did it properly this time!" she said with a grin. "Was it nice?"

"Mads, that was the absolute best ever. I'm not kidding."

She blushed, and beamed with pride.

"Right, come on," she said. "You can't sit around all day."

She hopped up and wandered off, swigging from her water bottle and rinsing her mouth, leaving me to stuff my still half hard, very damp manhood back into my shorts. When I caught up with her she glanced down at the very obvious lump it was making in my shorts, and giggled herself silly.

Our walk took us ever higher, towards the peak of the dormant volcano which had created the island in its younger days. It was hard work in the sun, but the further up we went, the cooler the breeze became, until we could hardly feel it. When we stopped for lunch, we found ourselves half way up the side of the mountain with a quite astonishing view out over the ocean. Stretching away to the north west we could see the other islands in the archipelago. To the south, there was nothing but an open ocean, dotted here and there with slow-moving supertankers. We sat down to eat, and then lay back in the grass, holding hands and looking up into the sky.

Having emptied myself into Maddie's mouth only an hour before, I was quite content to just lie there, but she had other plans. The hormones were just beginning to spring into life in her body, and she was a horny little thing. She snuggled into my side and threw her arm across my chest and her leg over my crotch. With her fingers she gently teased my nipple through my shirt, and with her knee she coaxed my dormant manhood to life. I let my hand run down her back, and beneath the waistband of her shorts - luckily, these weren't the skin-tight cut-offs she'd worn the day before, and so before long I had a nice handful of warm, slightly sweaty little bum. I caressed it lovingly, before slipping a finger in between the cheeks and seeking out her slit from behind.

I found it hot, moist and slippery, and ready to accept my finger. She was well and truly worked up already, and I wondered how long she had been that way, because her knickers felt sopping wet against the backs of my knuckles. She moaned loudly and pushed her hand down onto the lump in my shorts when I squeezed a fingertip into her wet little hole.

"Wait!" she said suddenly, reaching back to remove my hand, and standing up above me. She pushed down her shorts and pants, and took them off, and indicated that I should do the same. When we were both naked from the waist down, she sat directly on my shaft, letting her soft, hot lips wrap around the underside. With undulating hips she humped back and forth along the ridge of flesh which jutted out from between her juvenile sex. She leaned forward and put her hands on my chest, and went to her task, grinding frantically back and forth, milking my shaft until my lubrication dribbled out in a constant stream.

Just when I could feel the beginnings of my climax welling up in my loins, she stopped, and looking me straight in the eyes she slid forward until only my head was wrapped in her lips. She wormed her way onto it, then lifted up and back, taking my shaft to the vertical, with the very tip kissing the entrance to her tunnel. Then I began to feel incredible pressure on my manhood. If it had been any less stiff it would have bent in half, but instead it squeezed into her. With half the head in I expected her to stop and back away, but she kept up the pressure, her legs shaking with fear, excitement and effort. When finally she stopped, her knees were on the ground either side of my hips and a good three fingers' worth of me was buried within her. This was true penetration. This was real, grown-up sex. She looked down at her stretched lips, then back up at me with a shocked expression on her face.

"It's in me!" she whispered.

"Yep!" I replied with a grin, giving a little push upward with my hips, feeling a little more of me push into her.

She gave an 'umph!' when my penis swelled suddenly, as a bolt of pleasure shot through my loins, and lifted herself off a little way. She sat back down, and then slowly repeated the action. Each time she raised and lowered, each time my shaft penetrated her anew, she became hotter, softer and wetter, until half of me disappeared inside on each stroke. I put my hands on her hips, and helped with the rhythm, pushing up into her as she sat down, and rolling my hips away when she lifted. I could see the sensations building in Maddie - not only was her tunnel now sopping wet, but a gentle blush was spreading across her face and chest. Her eyes lost focus, and she started grunting at the end of each stroke. I had convinced myself that she wouldn't climax before I did, but when I reached up my thumbs and pressed them against her stiff, undeveloped nipples, she gave out a distressed whimper and I began to feel contractions against my shaft. She stopped riding me, leaning forward with her hands on my shoulders, as waves of pleasure tore through her.

My peak was triggered, too - how could it not be, with my little lover's hole quivering all around my shaft, squeezing it, pulsing against it. I held her hips and pushed hard into her, going as deep as I ever had, as I splashed her insides with volley after volley of my seed. It had little room to fill, and squeezed out around my shaft when I pulled back to thrust into her one last time.

Spent, exhausted, completely drained by the act of our coupling, Maddie fell forward onto my chest. She whimpered and her legs involuntarily twitched when I softened and slipped from her hole, then she just lay with her head on one side and slowly came down.

By the time she had recovered, it was mid afternoon, and we needed to begin the march back down the hill if we were to make it back to the camp before nightfall. Maddie was a bit sore,and walked gingerly, and yet at the same time she smiled with pride at what she had done.

"I can't believe I got it in!" she said at one point, and I shared her surprise, and joy. I hadn't thought it would be possible so soon, but Maddie had shown how dedicated she was, and how willing to go through the pain of our coupling to get to the pleasure on the other side. I was impressed with her strength and her bravery.

We made it to camp just as the sun dipped to touch the horizon. Maddie was exhausted, and there was just time enough to get a fire going, make some food and eat before she fell asleep leaning into me. Once again, I gently lifted her into her hammock and kissed her forehead as she snuggled down to sleep.

***

The third day of our trip was to be the last before heading back to the house. We'd already planned some surfing for the day we would have together before her parents returned, but that still left us with a day to fill at the north end of the island.

Maddie was first up this time, and I woke to find my hammock gently swaying as she tried to climb in with me. I reached down and hauled her up, and suddenly my arms were full of naked, giggling nine-year-old.

"I'm not sore any more this morning," she said with a glint in her eye. "I want to do it again, like adults do."

I pulled her knees up either side of me, and reached down to drag my already hard shaft through her slick slot.

"You're wet!" I exclaimed, surprised at how damp she was.

She blushed.

"I've been awake for a while. I was putting my fingers in there pretending it was your penis, because you weren't awake."

Well, if I wasn't already primed to take her, that would have convinced me. I pressed up with my hips, and felt her loosened hole stretch easily around the head of my manhood, slipping down over the crown to nestle on the shaft. It wrapped around me like a soft, thick, hot rubber band, squeezing me tightly while beyond, in her insides, I could feel the silken softness of her tunnel gently caressing the head. She gasped as I pushed deeper, and let out a little groan, but it wasn't in pain. She was beginning to get quite used to the penetration now, and I was able to push up until very little was left unsheathed.

Maddie writhed and rolled on top of me, making no rhythm with her hips, but barely needing to either. Her movements were enough to make me slide in and out of her short tunnel, and as we kissed passionately I let her control the pace and depth of the penetration, getting herself off on me, using my shaft as a real life sex toy.

I wanted more, though. I wanted something different, something we had't tried before. Putting my hands on her hips, I stopped her.

"Are you finished?" she said in surprise. "I didn't feel it going in me."

I grinned at her and shook my head.

"I want you to turn over and lie on your back on my front."

She looked confused, and took a moment to work out exactly what I wanted, but when she had, I pushed her legs apart so that they fell either side of mine. My shaft was sticking straight up between her legs, and I grabbed it, pushing it down between the folds of her sex to nestle at the entrance to her hole. It took a little moving around, and a bit of a wriggle of her hips, but soon I was back inside her, from behind. One arm I dropped over her tummy, holding her in place, and with the fingers of my other hand I began to gently massage her clit as I slowly pumped in and out of her.

Her hands went to grip the arm across her stomach as her pleasure intensified. She started to breathe in short, ragged gasps, and then to moan as I probed her sex from both sides. I remembered the effect I'd had by touching her nipples the day before, and raised my free arm away from her grip, stroking one nipple then the other.

"Yesssssss," she hissed, arching her back and pushing down hard with her hips, burying me as deeply inside as she could. The sensation of being wholly inside her triggered an earth-shattering orgasm in me, and as I swelled inside her and throbbed with the intense pleasure of depositing my load, she, too, reached her peak. She gave out a sharp cry and grabbed my hand, tearing it away from her crotch and pressing the fingers agains her free nipple. With both hands now I massaged her chest, as she writhed and bucked on top of me, the rippling contractions of her tunnel milking me to new heights of agonising ecstasy.

Spent, panting, bathed in sweat I collapsed, hugging her to me, planting kisses on her temple, her cheek, any bit of skin I could reach. She shuddered with the aftershocks of her climax, and her spasming hole pushed out my spent manhood, followed by a flood of our combined essence. She whimpered gently as she came down from her high, as if the pleasure had been simply too much to bear. I couldn't help thinking that wasn't far from the truth in my case.

We rinsed ourselves off in the sea, gambling naked through the surf and playfully grabbing at each other. She teased me relentlessly with tugs at my manhood, until I snapped and dragged her into the shallows, forcing her mouth down onto my shaft as she giggled helplessly and tried to fight back. I lay back in delirium with water washing all around me, not caring who might stumble upon us, as she relented and engulfed me in her hot little mouth, sucking with joy as she knelt in the salty water. I came in her mouth and she swallowed my meagre load, having already drained me dry with the sucking motion of her juvenile quim. When she grinned up at me I dragged her on top and kissed her passionately, and if I'd had the energy I would have rutted into her right there and then on the sand.

The rest of the day was a little more relaxed. We walked along the coast this time, all the way around to the little harbour at the island's north end, where we got ice-cream and dodged tourists, and ended up going to see a film in the island's only - and very old - cinema. In the darkness I molested her, pushing my hand down the front of her pants to cup her soft, hairless mound, and pressing a finger into her slit to rub across her button until she squeaked and clamped her thighs tightly around my hand. The aroma which wafted up from her crotch was unmistakable, and I wondered if any of the adults around us had realised what I had done. No-one made a fuss, though, and I walked around with the smell of her fanny on my fingers for the rest of the afternoon.

In the evening, we made the choice to stay one more night, and I laid a blanket out under the stars and took her there, my hands clamped onto her hips as I rutted good and hard into her. She moaned and whimpered under the assault, and then said,

"I like it hard...".

By the time I'd filled her up with my seed, her hole gaped open obscenely, and she lay panting on her back with a river of semen dribbling down into the valley of her arse. For a moment I worried I'd gone too far with her, but she smiled up at me. She closed her eyes with a sigh and felt gingerly around her abused hole.

"I think I need to lie here for a bit, OK?" she said to me weakly. I lay down with her and wrapped her in my arms, delicately kissing her. With my ardour diminished, I held her until we both fell asleep.

***

We broke camp after breakfast the next day. Maddie was still sore from the night before, having taken me at full force, and I worried for her. But by the time we were done loading the Land Rover, she was no longer showing any signs of discomfort.

We headed back to the house in near silence. It was a contented peace, though. We were both happy beyond measure, and desperately flirtatious with each other, too. By the time we got home there was barely enough time for me to unpack the car before Graham and Olga returned. Maddie managed to coax me into her room to take her from behind as she knelt on the edge of her bed, and I left a contented and full little girl to sleep when I was done, but it was damned dangerous, and I felt it was only a matter of time before we would be discovered.

***

About three weeks after the camping trip, on an unexpectedly cold, damp morning with the wind howling around outside, Graham called me into his office. He had a strange look on his face - there was a smile in there, but it was tinged with regret.

"I've had a message from London," he said, indicating that I should sit down. "It seems that they have need of you. I don't think you're quite forgiven, but it seems they're in a spot of bother about something, and need you back in active service."

I was glad I was sitting down, because the world fell out from underneath me as his words hit home. It took all the training I had had over the years to keep my composure at that point, to listen to what Graham said, and to even leave the room with a smile.

I don't really remember the next few days. I was lost in a whirlwind of emotions, chief among them despair at having to leave behind the cute little angel who had totally stolen my heart. Maddie, of course, was absolutely devastated, and made her feelings clear to her dad. Fortunately, Graham took it as nothing more than a childish crush on the handsome secret agent who had been living with them. If he had suspected half the things Maddie and I had been up to, I've no doubt he would have killed me.

Then, before I knew it we were having a tearful farewell at the airport, and I was sitting on the wobbly little island hopper watching paradise disappear behind me to the drone of the engines. I let my mind drift back to the night before, when Maddie - who had finally forgiven me for leaving - had come to my room in the deepest part of the night, and had frantically, desperately impaled herself on me, slamming her hips down so that I went as deep as I could as fast as I could, over and over, until with a groan I could take it no longer. We'd fallen asleep in each other's arms and stayed that way until morning.

I had been on the island for only three months, two weeks, four days and about an hour.

***

Sheets of freezing rain fell from a leaden sky to soak all those below. Businessmen in expensive suits cursed as their umbrellas turned inside out in the wind. Red buses and black taxis vied for position on the packed roads, which resembled nothing so much as urban canals under the onslaught from above.

I watched it all from a doorway, eyes scanning the crowd for my mark. He would be one of the respectable ones. Bald head, thick-rimmed black glasses. Grey suit, black leather laptop bag on the left shoulder. He was 42 years old, an investment banker who ran triathlons for fun. And, presumably for profit, he made money to fund terrorism on the side. More than two and a half a million over the last two months alone. Little bits here and there, and he'd been pretty good at hiding his tracks. So good it made you wonder why he didn't do it purely for profit, and forget about the terrorists. But then there were the little links, the signs, the old family connections. A few holidays toward the eastern end of Europe. A sudden interest in politics - found by trawling his internet history - and a sympathetic tweet. Only the one, but one was enough for him to be of interest.

Now we knew, and it was my task to take him out in broad daylight. It had to be visible, to send a message. Making him die in his sleep would cut off the money trail, but it would do nothing to make the point that we knew, and we could find these people, no matter how well hidden they were. It was going to be quite straightforward - a single gunshot wound to the head, a casual utterance of a terrorist phrase or two. The media would assume it was a simple act of random terrorism in the heart of London and start the panic train, but those who needed to see would see. The man's name would come out in the media, and they would know.

I spotted him stepping down from the back of a bus and flicking open an umbrella, which went up above his head. I counted one, two, three... I was so close to moving, so very close to setting off, when an image ran across my mind. Something I had found when I was going through his laptop while he slept upstairs. A picture. A young girl. It was an attachment to an email. I shouldn't have read it, because it was clear from the first few lines that this wasn't anything to do with the investigation. It was a love letter, from the girl to the man. And he'd replied, in as effusive tones as she had. I found the other emails they'd sent to each other, too. Dozens of them, increasingly explicit, and referring to events which if they were true, would have landed him in jail for a long, long time.

A few years back, that would have just encouraged me to take him down. But now? Now that I knew what it was like to love a young girl, and to take her to my bed? I couldn't be so judgemental. Whoever this girl was, she was a very willing partner, at least according to the emails she sent. A little older than Maddie, but still not even a teen.

Why had that image returned to me then? He was still funding terrorists, and still deserved to die. Why that picture? Why then?

And it hit me, like a tonne of bricks. I had seen the girl that morning, without realising who it was I'd seen. Another face in the crowd. I scanned around desperately for her, but there was no sign... wait! There! Through the glass of the coffee shop across the way, with a woman I didn't recognise. Why didn't I recognise her? Who was she? The girl saw him just as I saw her, and jumped up, running out of the shop. I was frozen to the spot, watching it unfold. She ran into his arms, hugging him. It was chaste, avuncular. Almost certainly his niece, judging by the way they interacted. I couldn't do it now, not here, not with that cute little thing around. It would destroy her. No-one else knew about the significance of their relationship - I'd hidden it from my colleagues - but perhaps, just perhaps I could swing it.

I called the mission, and walked away into the rain.

***

"Why did you make the decision you did, Mr Spittal?" asked the chairwoman.

I was sitting in front a panel of men who represented various senior ranks in the intelligence and military communities. An investigation had been called into the hit. I should never have been given the termination order, and my superiors were being flayed alive for having put me onto it. They claimed it had come down from Westminster, but no-one there was claiming any sort of responsibility. The whole thing was a total mess, and the only upside was that I didn't have to admit that the reason I hadn't taken out the target was that I felt sympathy with him; I hadn't wanted to take him out in front of his young lover.

Instead I'd been able to lie.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I said, trying to appear as contrite as I could manage. "I understand I was disobeying direct orders, but I thought it should have been handled by the courts."

"Yes. Well, it's an opinion this committee happens to share. Tell me, though, why were you so keen to follow orders up to that point? Did you not think you should have objected earlier in the process?"

"I understand why it may appear strange, ma'am," I replied. "However, I have recently returned from the tropics having taken what is commonly referred to as a punishment mission."

"Oh yes, I've seen that in your notes. How would that affect your attitude, exactly?"

"Having only recently been recalled, I was keen to make a good impression. I felt that following my orders without questioning them would put me in a good light, ma'am."

"And you've handed over all relevant files on the intended target to the associated services?"

"Yes, ma'am."

And it wasn't even a lie. Certain portions of what I recovered from his hard disk were deleted without trace, but those which would put him behind bars for many years couldn't be made to disappear. He would end up in jail, but that was better than having the insides of his head painted over the side of a bus in front of his little lover.  

Back in the office a week later I was introduced to my new immediate superior. The old lot had been unceremoniously removed from their positions, and I had heard rumours of any number of 'interesting' new punishment missions being run. I'd worked with this new one before, on secondment to the Hong Kong office, and she knew me well. She'd already ordered me through my physical and psych evaluations, and had them sitting on the desk in front of her when I walked in. She smiled at me, but there was little warmth. I could immediately sense there was an issue.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush, Spittal. Either these get better," she waved the sheets of paper at me, "or you're off front line duty. Your scores have never been this bad. Want to tell me what's up?"

I shrugged.

"Probably the fall out from recent events, ma'am."

"Well, that's bullshit for one. You'd never let this kind of thing affect you in the past. The man I knew in Hong Kong would have seen this as a chance for promotion, but as far as I can see you didn't even ask. You might have a new face, but the man inside remains the same. So, what's up?"

I looked her straight in the eye. She couldn't ever be accused of caring, but she was definitely interested in what I had to say.

"It's going to sound stupid, ma'am, but I think I miss being on the island."

"Your punishment mission?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Idyllic, was it? I've never visited that part of the world."

"Yes, ma'am. Incredible. And..."

I let it hang, not quite sure how to go on.

"You met a girl out there, didn't you?"

"Uh, yes, ma'am. You could say that."

"Serious?"

"I'm afraid so, ma'am. But don't worry about it. I'll get my head back in the game and be back to normal within the month."

"No you won't," she said with a grin. "You're absolutely fucked. I'm pulling you from active duty for the foreseeable future. Dismissed."

I walked out of the office feeling like the world had fallen away beneath me. First I had lost Maddie, and now the job I loved. I walked straight out of the office, down the road and into a bar.

***

Two weeks later I was back in the same room, sitting in the same chair, looking across the desk at the woman who had halted my career.

"I've got some good news for you, Spittal," she said, a strange smile curling the corners of her lips.

"I get to go active again?" I asked hopefully. She laughed a hollow laugh.

"Of course not. You're a bloody mess. No, something's come up, and your name was mentioned. Mother wants to increase our presence on the Trynee Archipelago. We're going to send out an ambassador, the first we've had in the area for a while. There are rumours of massive oil deposits under the sea floor to the south of the islands, and we want to be a part of it. Of course, the ambassador would join the household of the existing consul, which will be enlarged to suit, and he or she will need a security detail. The question was raised of whether we had anyone of local knowledge, and of course you came up immediately."

"What sort of deal is it?"

"Head of security and intelligence across three islands and the surrounding waters. It's a permanent posting, with the only option of return being a promotion, retirement or disciplinary. Bit of a step up for you. You'd be in charge of the ambassador's bodyguard, who will also be his driver, and there may be an opportunity for fostering a small network out there. Which, of course, you've already done, haven't you?"

She smiled across at me, and I smiled back.

"Yes, ma'am. Of course."

***

I didn't tell Maddie I was going. I wanted it to be a surprise. I wondered whether or not Graham would have told her, and hoped he hadn't. Of course, I was gutted to find that I wouldn't be living in the main house, but a small cottage was being built for me on site, to be my home and my base of operations. An embassy in the main port would be opened, too. It was a huge ramp up in diplomatic relations, but we weren't the only ones, according to our sources. The French and the Americans were both sending full diplomatic missions, too.

I saw the cottage before I saw the house, mostly because we passed it on the dusty road leading up to the house, as it was hauled along on a rather laboured looking lorry, belching black smoke into the blue sky. It was in pieces, a pre-fab, and it was hardly surprising to find that it hadn't been finished before I arrived. That at least meant there was a good chance I would be bunking in the main house. I smiled to myself, thinking how much easier it would be to reignite my relationship with Maddie. I had the briefest moment of self-doubt about that, but then I recalled the letter she had sent me, where she had been rather more explicit than I expected a now ten year old girl could be. Perhaps that was my fault, for inciting her through my actions to feel that way, and have knowledge of things she perhaps shouldn't. But I was through beating myself up about it. I just wanted to be back here, with her.

Just like the first time I had arrived at the house, there was no-one about to greet me. A group of labourers were standing around bare patch of earth off to the east side of the house, which was clearly where my shack was to be built. I let myself in through the front door, just as Maddie was coming down the main staircase, a plate in her hand. When she saw me she stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth agape. Very carefully, totally aware of herself, she reached down and placed the plate on the step by her feet. Then her hands went to her mouth, and tears flooded her eyes. She stood there, frozen to the spot, not quite prepared to believe that I was really there.

"Well?" I said with a grin.

Seconds later she was in my arms, legs wrapped around my waist, smothering my faces in little kisses, and then leaning in for a proper kiss.

"Hey, sweetheart," I said, slightly out of breath when she finally pulled away.

"You're back! Please tell me you're back!"

"Yes, I'm back. For good," I grinned at her. "Who did you think that new building was for?"

"I don't know, daddy wouldn't tell me. You're really back?"

"Yes! Back with you."

"You know what," she said, with an eyebrow arched and a sexy little wiggle of her hips. "Mummy and daddy are out for a few hours. Martha's in the kitchen - she's meant to be keeping an eye on me, but last time I looked she was asleep. Want to go up to my room and.. y'know..?"

I squeezed the buttocks which filled my hands, and pulled her to me, spreading her legs wide and flexing my abs against her mound.

"I'm going to do it to you so hard," I growled into her ear.

"Good," she giggled. "I want you to."

The end.

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