After a light lunch, I joined George, Sarah and Amy by the golf carts. Amy already at the wheel. "Hi, Uncle Eddie," she shouted. She was wearing a short pink top and beige skirt, the pink top not quite meeting her skirt and revealing a little midriff. And, of course the usual white cotton socks and white cotton panties.
"Sorry, she's with us," moaned George. Putting my clubs on the cart I noticed Amy jumping up and down on the seat wit her hand between her legs. "What are you doing?" I asked her. "I need to wee," she whispered. "So go to the ladies toilets," I told her. "No, it smells in there," she replied. "I'm waiting until we get onto the course." Having let me in on the secret, she put a finger to her lips and she "shushed" me.
She was right, the toilets did stink, a combination of lazy staff, lazy golfers and a hot climate. That explained why the kid took a piss every time we played golf, she wouldn't use the smelly toilets. By the time we teed off she was bent double trying to hold in the flow. With me driving and her sitting on my lap we set off. "Don't you wee on me" I whispered in her ear giggling. Her response was to bring her elbow back to dig into my ribs. We zigzagged down the fairway to each of our balls, hacking them towards the green. By the time we reached the second tee she was out of the cart like a rocket.
"Need to wee!" she shouted as she ran to the back of the tee her hand on her crotch. With her back to us she squatted at the end of the tee box and let out a torrent which hit the ground and splashed up. It was not only clear to see it was easily heard. George just shook his head. She returned as I was at my bag at the back of the cart putting back my club after taking my shot. "I wet my pants," she whispered.
"Take them off. I'll put them in my bag," I said joining her in her secret. Looking furtively at her dad and other players, she stepped out of her white, now stained yellow, panties and handed them to me. I gave them a little squeeze, experiencing the delight of her warm wetness before putting them in my bag. Getting us back in the cart I raised my hand to my nose and drank in the smell of little girl piss - lovely. I was wearing shorts and each time we got in and out of the cart, I made sure that each time she climbed on my lap, her dress was up and I could I slide her naked, damp, smelly pussy along me leg. My dick rejuvenated from the earlier morning's work, rose to the occasion. She was now sitting on an iron rod and it was obviously causing her some discomfort as she wriggled round trying to get comfortable.
At one point in time, when her dad was out taking his shot, she stood up, turned round and thumped my dick as if trying to flatten out the lump, giggling as she did so. "Do that again and I'll tell your dad you've wet your knickers," I whispered to her. Her response was to thump my dick once again with a cheeky grin and mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Right, sit on my knee then," I told her. As I placed her legs either side of my left knee, her cunt lips came into direct contact with my thigh. "Now don't you wee on my lap," I whispered, giving her sides a ticklish squeeze. The tickles caused her to wriggle her bottom backwards and forwards, grinding her wet cunt into my thigh. We played that game most of the front nine.
After playing the front nine I retrieved her panties from my bag and gave them to her telling her she better put them back on as her dad would be driving the back nine.
I was quite pleased with my progress with Amy, I was her most trusted uncle, we shared little secrets, she was not shy with me, she had become quite desensitised to genitalia and I had the 'black' on her mom and her dad.
I skipped our usual Saturday evening dinner, deciding on a early night as I had lots to get together the following day before flying to K.L.
Sunday morning I saw Suja, explained where I was going, and I put it to her that she could let Tuti do my housework in her place freeing her up to find work elsewhere and that I would pay Tuti the same money. She was obviously delighted as it was win-win situation for her. I got a nice smile from Tuti. My bags packed, I then spent the day at the office sorting my papers and instruments before flying to K.L.
Settling in my hotel room that evening, I replayed events in my head. Having spent years targeting Amy, I now wondered whether she could match up to Tuti. Was I now pursuing Amy purely because it was forbidden fruit? If I succeeded, would I be disappointed. Is what she had to offer worth the risks involved in getting it. Then I went through the possibilities with Sarah, on face value she had nothing I wanted, yet she had become more and more intriguing and kept drawing me back wanting more. I wondered where she might take me next. Perhaps it was a good thing that we had a break from each other; absence makes the heart grow fonder.
I gave Sarah and Tuti check in-calls from the K L office during the week just to check all was OK. I also checked in with Pam as I had done on a regular basis. That next weekend, during one of my regular calls, Pam told me she wasn't coming back to Indonesia. She had interviewed some potential tenants and none of them left her confident that they would look after our home. She wasn't prepared to leave the house and chance it being trashed again. She wasn't looking for a separation, she was just telling me I was on my own if I wanted to work outside of daily travelling distance from our home. I decided not to tell Sarah until I'd thought things through.
The following Thursday evening, I was in my hotel room feeling a bit lonely and thought I'd try Sarah. George might be in Surabaya and maybe she was on her own. I could ring up and if George was there I could speak to him about organising a game of golf. Sarah answered the phone, "Hi, it's Eddie, is George there?" I asked. "No," she said, "he's in Surabaya." "Good, I thought I'd take a chance he was away, it's really boring here sat in the hotel room every night. Are you OK to talk?" I asked. "Yes, I'm here alone, Amy's in bed, I'm just watching TV with a glass of wine. When are you coming back?" she asked. "Probably early next week," I told her. "Have you missed me?" she asked. "I have," I said. "These trips might appear glamorous, but it's just work followed by sitting in a hotel waiting to start work again. I either watch TV or prop up the bar talking crap with some drunk," I told her. "Well now you can talk crap to me," she said laughing.
"So what's happening there, anything new?" I asked. "Same old stuff," she said. "I played golf with the ladies on Tuesday. I won a prize and got drunk with Marla. Amy got a star role in the school play; life goes on although I must say I am finding it more and more difficult to maintain this charade with George." "What do you mean?" I asked. "I'm married to a homosexual for God's sake!" she exclaimed. "Since I was thirteen, after the incidents with my step-dad, I've accepted a life based upon the belief that I deserved to be punished. Since I met you and we started talking some stuff through, I've allowed myself to entertain the idea that I am not the devil's disciple if I have carnal thoughts, that I can enjoy sex and that I can explore sexual boundaries." "Good for you," I said, encouraging her. "Talking about your hang-ups, after we last spoke I wondered whether it might help if you wrote it all down, I know that traumatised kids are encouraged to write about their problems and it apparently helps exorcise their demons." "Write about it, I'm still getting used to thinking about it without feeling guilty," she replied.
"When you say 'thinking about it', is 'it' something in particular?" I asked. "I suppose the most difficult 'it' is the things I did with my step-dad," she continued. "You remember that first time, when we were in the restaurant, and you put your fingers inside me, and then you brought your hand up and you licked your fingers?" "Yes" I said. "I don't know if you noticed, but seeing you doing that caused me to orgasm. My step-dad used to do that and for all these years I convinced myself that he was a pervert for doing it and that I was a pervert for liking it. Only perverts liked that kind of stuff and when you did it, it wasn't perverted, it was close and loving and it allowed me to entertain ideas of enjoying it rather than being ashamed of it. Am I a freak because those things turn me on," she asked. "Well if you're a freak I am also a freak, because they also turn me on," I told her. "I think it's possible that one's earliest sexual experiences might have an influence in forming one's sexual preferences," I suggested.
"What was your earliest sexual experience?" she asked. "The earliest I can remember, was when I was a very young boy, maybe seven or eight. I was at school, walking along a corridor, when a new girl asked me where the toilets were. She was about the same age, for some mischievous reason, I don't know why, I directed her to the boys' toilet. I showed her in and told her she should pee in the urinal. I demonstrated by pissing in the next urinal. She stepped up to the urinal dropped her panties to the floor squeezed the bottom of the urinal between her legs and I watched her peeing. I am sure at that age I didn't know what sex was but I knew that I was witnessing something secret, a forbidden fruit and it turned me on. Ever since, I've had a desire to watch females take a piss," I confessed. "After that I had the usual things with sisters and cousins," I added. "What usual things?" she asked. "Playing doctors and nurses, mums and dads, house, I'll show you mine if you show yours," I said. "These are games kids have played for more years than I've been alive, I didn't invent them," I said. "Did you shag your sister?" she asked. "No," I said, "she wouldn't let me."
"So what did you do with your sister?" she asked. "The earliest thing I can remember was when I was about ten and she was nine, me and three of my friends had a tent in the garden and we were playing camping, my sister and two of her friends wanted to play with us and we wouldn't let them. They begged us and one of my friend suggested that we would let them if they let us see their 'bits'. They discussed it between themselves and agreed but only on condition that we didn't see their faces. We had to be inside the tent and they would slide their panty-less lower halves under the sides of the tenting leaving their heads outside so that we wouldn't know who was who. Looking back of course, it's naive of them to think that we wouldn't be able to work out which crotch belonged to which person and stupid to think that because they couldn't see us looking or know who was touching it wasn't really happening.
So we four boys were inside the tent with three sets of legs and three fannies and we went from one to the other poking and prodding and examining the differences. That's my earliest memory, but there were similar incidents after that with my sister and one of my cousins. I never got to shag either of them; we just explored the unknown together. We did lots of 'naughty' things just for the excitement and, although I sometimes look back with a little lust thinking about those events, when I see my sister and cousin now, they make celibacy look like a good idea," I explained. "Didn't you play doctors and nurses?" I asked.
"Not really" she said. "I was an only child and although I had cousins, nobody suggested doctors and nurses. I know what you mean though because one of my friends was doing it with her brother and I suppose we played doctors and nurses," she said. "You played doctors and nurses with her brother?" I asked. "No," she laughed, "with my friend, Jemma." "How did that happen?" I asked. "I suppose we must have been about nine or ten," she explained. "I was on a sleepover staying at her house and sleeping in her bed. We were under the bed clothes with a torch talking and she asked if I had done any stuff with boys, I told her no; of course I didn't tell her about my step-dad. She told me she'd done some stuff with her brother; he was fourteen. She went into detail about what they'd done which was pretty much everything except full penetration. Believing I was totally innocent, she took it upon herself to teach me by shining the torch on the bits of her anatomy which her brother poked, prodded, squeezed, licked and sucked on. She demonstrated how to masturbate, as taught her by her brother, first on herself and then on me. She went down on me, and of course, I had to reciprocate. I can remember enjoying the softness of her. My step-dad was hairy and rough, she was soft and sweet and although neither of us could reach a climax I could feel all the sexual tensions and pleasant tingles one feels prior to orgasm. Apart from my step-dad, that's the only sexual event in my life prior to the disappointment of George and for years I yearned for sex with another female," she revealed.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Changes last made on: Wednesday, July 26, 2006