First Light of Day, Part 2

by Cassandrablue

My sweet Maggie was begging for more. I could not have dreamed of such a reaction; in fact, I had wondered all through my journey if my touches would be welcome at all. There I was, and there she was with me, delightfully and beautifully naked, aroused and excited and searching for another sweet orgasm at the touch of my trembling hand.

“Oh, my little girl,” I said, “I dreamed of doing this so many times.”

“Me, too...” she sighed, her voice soft and breathless. “Oh, please... yes...”

I felt her body quake and quiver and I rubbed her clitoris feverishly. Once again, with a delightful squeal, she found her pleasure. She cried out in release as the second orgasm surged through her in spasms and I struggled to hold onto her as she seemed about to fall off to one side. With a womanly passion, she reached up and grasped my head, turning her own to press her lips to mine.

It had grown very hot in the car, and it was then that my Maggie slipped off my lap and took my hand. She smiled, spreading my fingers out and looking up at me as she kissed them, one by one.

“Did you really think about me touching you when I was gone?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “I mean, just a little in the beginning... but then I started doing it a lot.”

“Did you touch yourself when you thought about it?”

“Hehe...” Maggie laughed sweetly. “Yes.”

My attention was snapped away just as I was about to kiss my angel. It was a car coming up behind us. It was not just any car. It had lights on top. They were not lit up, but that did not matter. What mattered was that the driver’s side door was opening and the police officer was getting out.

“M-Maggie, you might want to put on your nightgown... quickly.”

The little girl turned to look and grabbed her nightgown. The cop stopped to look at the out-of-state license plate and walked slowly, as big shot cops like to do, the whole John Wayne bit. That gave Maggie plenty of time to put on her little nightgown, but then she plopped herself right on my lap. When the cop got to the window and looked in, her big smile was the first thing he saw.

“Hi, Mister Daley,” she said. I had forgotten what it was like living in small town America, knowing everyone. But I didn’t remember this man, and he didn’t know me. I was sweating bullets, feeling just how hot it had grown in the car, and not feeling very well. I had not eaten for a while, and the stress made me feel weak.

“Hello, Maggie,” the cop said. “How are you?” I kept my head down, but I could feel his eyes on me. “Maybe you can introduce me to your friend.”

“Oh, you mean my Aunt Katherine?” Maggie grinned. “She’s here for a surprise visit. Isn’t that nice?”

“Well... yes,” the officer said. Maggie kept that beautiful grin beaming. It made it difficult for the cop to be anything but friendly. I felt Maggie’s hand take mine. She drew it up under her nightgown and in between her legs where the flesh was still bare. I turned my head slightly and saw her panties lying on the passenger’s side of the front seat. I closed my eyes and swallowed. I wanted to reach over and tuck them somewhere, but my hand was busy doing something else.

“How are you doing this morning, ma’am?” the cop asked me.

“I-I’m very well... officer.”

“You know, this isn’t really an appropriate parking spot, ma’am.”

“Oh, Mister Miller, people park here all the time,” Maggie smiled. I felt a tremble below, where her fingers pressed mine against her swollen little clit. She was on fire down there, but up above she was cool as a cucumber. “Are you trying to give my aunt a hard time?”

“Well... I... um... “ the cop was without a comeback. “The point is...”

“Are you bored, Mister Miller?” Maggie asked. “My grandpa says that you guys get bored and you go out and hassle people.”

“Oh, when did he say that, Maggie?”

“When you gave him a ticket for driving too fast. Remember that?”

“Oh,” the cop said, looking down. I sensed that he was embarrassed; I didn’t know why and it didn’t matter. Maggie was winning, the little minx. She was amazing. And the whole time she was charming and outwitting the cop she was pressing my fingers to her sweet sex. I was reeling.

“Well, ma’am, I am sorry to bother you. Maggie, you have a nice day.”

“I’ll tell my grandpa you said Hi,” Maggie said.

The cop walked back to his car, got in, backed out and drove away. My eyes followed him in the rear-view mirror, then caught my Maggie looking at me. She was rocking her hips, riding the hand that pet her.

“Little girl,” I said, “you are out of this world. Why would you make me rub on you with the cop standing there?”

“I just like being sneaky; it makes me tingly,” she sighed. “Did you like how I talked to him?”

“Yes, but why did he get all soft when you talked about my dad?”

“He got in big trouble...” she gasped, her lower lip quivering. “My grandpa went to the station and complained about the ticket. He’s friend’s with... the chief.” My little girl had sweat glistening on her brow. I was eager to see my little girl come to another orgasm, but she stopped me, grasping my hand. “It’s hot in here...”

“Yes, it is.”

“You wanna go down to the stream?”

Oh, the memories, the memories of Miller’s Stream! But I wasn’t much in the mood for that, not after the cop’s visit. Nearly getting caught with my Maggie naked in the car (as well as the other things I could have been nailed for, had he called in) had not set well with my stomach. Maggie looked up at me and smiled and her charm worked on me. I looked in those eyes, wrapped my fingers tight around the door handle, jerked it down and heaved a sigh.

The world was always there. It was weighing on me and it had been for a long time. Maggie made the world go away, just the same way she made the cop go away. She did it with a smile and a touch and a sweet little sigh. I loved her and I felt safe with her. Imagine that, a woman who has held people at gunpoint and taken their money being protected by an innocent — well, innocent but wily — ten-year-old girl with beautiful brown eyes. My God, why was I here? Why had I come back, knowing I would have to leave her again? And now, seeing what she had turned into, it would be even harder to leave her. And it would be hard to go back to Janice.

Janice was my mentor and partner in crime, my lover, but she was not my friend. She wasn’t much of a lover either, but that is another story. The fact is that with Maggie near me, in my arms or by my side, I could not even think of Janice in the same light. I had left her abruptly to come here, left her while she was sleeping, just a short note on the motel nightstand telling her I would be back in a couple of days. It was sure to anger her, and she was not a good-tempered woman.

With Maggie leading me by the hand, we descended the hill to Miller’s Stream. I felt so dizzy, and not so sure-footed, while my little lover moved so gracefully on her bare feet. Oh, it really hit me, the host of memories that came flooding back as I sat down at the edge of the water. Maggie sat next to me and put her feet and legs in the water. She reached down and put her hands in and brought a splash of water up to her face. I did the same. It felt good.

“Take off your shoes, Kat.”

I did take off my shoes and my socks, and I rolled up my pant legs and dipped into the water. Oh, so cool it was! And on tired feet it felt better than wonderful. I held my Maggie’s hand and kicked my feet as she kicked hers. It was all good, all sweet, all innocent, and I forgot everything again, everything but her and myself.

She was more than beautiful at that moment, and as she reached down, lifted her nightgown and took it off there by the stream, I was in awe of her body. In the car, I had not really had the chance to gaze upon her in all of her naked splendor. I took her hands, both of them, and guided her to sit on my legs, facing me, straddling my knees. I was a bit frightened, lest the cop should decide to come back and climb down that hill, but I had to remind myself that he had been manipulated by a ten-year-old child. I grinned at my girl and looked her over.

Oh, who had created this work of beauty that sat so still and quiet upon my aching knees! Was it God? Did I even believe in Him? Surely something, some being with the eye of an artist, a renaissance painter, had produced this masterpiece. How could she have just appeared here by chance, by mere genetic code, by such cold scientific principles as we’re taught in school? No, I did not believe in the bible, but I knew that someone somewhere had worked a miracle in creating my young Maggie.

From the top of her head to her sweet face, along the curve of her neck, her smooth shoulders, the roundness of her upper chest, the summer golden glow covering her skin, golden all over, and her little buds poking out like little tiny cones, the nipples stiffening as I touch them, pinch them so gently, I lower my head and suckle at them, and her tummy so flat and perfect and brown and smooth and kissable, her thighs the same, firm and shapely like a woman’s thighs, the thighs of a well-fed farm girl, and between them that sweet little crack spread open, dark red lips protruding, the pink beyond revealing itself as I reach down and spread the lips and seek out the swollen bud of her clit, hiding from me under its fleshy hood, but I rush, forgetting the full legs, the calves so shapely and sexy and the pretty feet and edible little toes...

I took one leg and raised it so I could kiss one foot. I kissed it, then sucked at her toes as she watched me with a sweet smile. My hand was working on her all the while, rubbing her clit slowly and gently to start, only because I wanted to taste her, to make her cum with my mouth for the first time. Yes, I wanted desperately to taste my Maggie’s sweet little sex, to make her grind against my face, to make her come under the teasing and exploring of my tongue.

I nibbled my way down her thighs, and then I beckoned her to move up, to sit with her pussy over my face as I lay back and used my tongue. She moved over my face eagerly, as curious to feel it as I was to taste her for the first time. She spread her legs over my head, spread them far apart, and the red and pink flower blossomed like a rose. I began licking the flower whose nectar tasted of a tangy sort of sweetness.

I felt my little niece react immediately. She seemed ready for any and all pleasures, so ready that I have to admit to being a bit timid. It is one thing to fondle an eight-year-old girl and be uncertain about her feelings, but to be under the spell of the same girl two years later, a girl excited beyond belief, it makes you doubt reality. I really did imagine for a moment that I was back in the car sleeping somewhere on the road, or maybe back in the motel with Janice, dreaming all of this. “Oh, Kat...” the angel sang. “Oh, that feels so... so good.”

I could not speak for what I was doing, but if I could I would have told her that the pleasure belonged to her, it was there for the taking, that it was intended to be so. Once again, only a higher being could create something so pleasurable, but I will not digress beyond that. What she was feeling was wonderful and right; no one can tell me different. And as she approached orgasm, I was working at myself, slipping my hand down the front of my pants, tingling like crazy, feeling a little out of control.

“Oh... my... God!” she squealed. She was grinding on my mouth when it hit her. Her cries echoed there through the trees as she seemed to lose control, and I had to hold her to keep her from falling, hold her as I laid her gently on the hard ground, my head tightly pressed between her squeezing thighs. “Oh... oh... it feels so...” and again she squealed, as if another had begun before the first had gone. It was all I could do to wiggle my tongue against her clit with her legs gripping me like a vice. Her juices flowed sweet and tart and coated my face. My own loins were singing, craving release.

With an expression of total satisfaction, relaxed as she could be, my Maggie lay there on the ground. I lifted my head from between her thighs and moved up next to her, lying on my side, caressing her flushed golden skin.

“Kat, that felt so wonderful,” she said, her voice soft and breathless and sweet. “Never leave me.”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” I told her, feeling a lump in my throat, “I don’t want to leave you, but I can’t stay here.”

Maggie reached a hand out and stroked my cheek with her little fingers. She looked at me tenderly, her eyes soft and moist. She looked away.

“I understand,” she said. She rested there, still caressing my face, and then turned to look into my eyes again. She put her arms about my neck and pulled me close, kissing my lips, and then hugging tightly to her shoulder. I felt her lips touch my ear. And she whispered, “Take me with you.”