Born To The Collar

I was in a hell of a mood after a long day at work, at the end of an ever longer week. My firm was overseeing a huge merger, and though the billables were fantastic I was starting to doubt whether it was worth getting home so late every night. The workload would be getting back to normal soon, I hoped, but I had to survive at least two more weeks of shit before it would. All I wanted was to grill up a pair of steaks for a late supper with my daughter, then crash in front of the tv until it was time for bed. The last thing I wanted to deal with was high-pitched squealing voices all night, but that was what greeted me as I walked in the door. I took a moment to take a deep breath, trying to relax, biting down the impulse to walk upstairs to Melanie’s room and demand she tell whichever of the friends she’d invited over to go home.

Mellie was finally starting to do okay again. It would be two years next month since her mom lost her four-year battle with cancer, and neither of us had been in very good shape for a long time. But we were getting through it, and Mellie had regained enough of her ability to concentrate that she’d finished near the top of her class last year. She was already looking at colleges, planning where she might want to go. I was really hoping she’d choose Northwestern, so she could still live at home, but I knew better than to try to pressure her in that direction and risk driving her off to some God-forsaken party school in Florida. She was spending more time with friends again, too, something she’d mostly pulled away from doing while her mom was sick, and which she had flat-out refused to do for the better part of three months in the immediate aftermath of the funeral. It took me a few more deep breaths to get there, but I managed to cram a smile onto my face by the time she came downstairs to welcome me home.

“Hey, Dad,” she said, favoring me with a brief smile before bouncing over to the fridge and opening the door. “Is it okay if Vicki stays over, tonight?”

“Of course. Hi, Vicki,” I said, smiling over at the second girl, standing shyly at the entrance to the kitchen. “I was planning to grill up some steaks, tonight. Think you girls could take care of making something to go with them? Potatoes, green beans, something like that? Whatever you feel like.”

“Hey, Mr. S.,” Vicki smiled back. “I’m sure we can figure something out,” I was glad to see it was her; Vicki was Mellie’s best friend, and out of their group she was by far the least squealy and annoying. And unlike most of the others, she was smart and mature enough you could actually have a proper conversation with the girl. She reminded me quite a bit of Mellie herself, in fact, except Vicki was blonde and my daughter was dark like me and her mom. They were both skinny and small, maybe five-three at most, with long, straight hair down to the middle of their backs, and cute as a pair of newborn kittens.

“Sounds good,” I smiled, stepping over to join Mellie at the fridge, giving her a squeeze on her hip and a kiss in her hair. She smiled wider, blindly handing me the steaks I’d had marinating while continuing to peer around the fridge. I bit my tongue to stop from giving her advice, trusting the pair of them to come up with something edible, and headed for the patio doors.

October in Chicago isn’t exactly balmy, but it wasn’t yet so cold that I needed a jacket. I fired up the grill, and was intent enough on what I was doing that it took me completely by surprise a little later when Vicki was suddenly standing beside me.

“Rough day at work, Mr. S.?” she asked.

“Long,” I specified, wondering what had brought her outside with me, rather than staying in the kitchen with Mellie. “We’re really busy right now. How was school today?”

“Oh, not too bad,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering. “More boring than really difficult. Too much emphasis on memorizing, and not enough on understanding. In the unlikely event I ever actually need to know who the president was in 1860, I can just look it up! I wish they’d spend more time discussing the reasons and meanings of things, rather than just having us memorize facts about them.”

“The more things change, the more they stay the same,” I chuckled. “I seem to remember making the exact same complaint, when I was your age.”

“You were probably using the same current-events textbooks we are, too,” she grinned, and I laughed.

“I wouldn’t bet against it,” I agreed. “There are jackets in the hall closet, if you want.” I told her.

“I’m okay. But thanks,” she said. She was doing her best to minimize it, but I could still see her shivering a little.

“Well, at least come over closer to the grill, then. It’s warmer over here,” I suggested, and to that she agreed, coming in close enough to rub her upper arm against mine. I didn’t even think about it until it was done; I just wrapped my arm around her, rubbing her back to warm her up the same way I would have done for Mellie. It wasn’t until I was already doing it that I realized how the gesture could be misinterpreted, but thankfully she just cuddled closer for the heat.

“Tell me it’s going to get better, once I’m in college?” she asked.

“Much,” I confirmed. “At least, it does if you pick a real major. I make no promises if you pick something like gender studies, but anything actually based in reality, yeah, it gets a lot better than high school. You given any thought to what you want to do, yet?”

“Umm… sort of?” she said, shyly dropping her eyes.

“What is it, sweetie?” I asked.

“You’ll think it’s weird,” she said, shaking her head. “I told my parents, and they tried to change my mind, they don’t want me to do it. They didn’t say it outright, but I could tell… they think it’s creepy.”

“Creepy?” I repeated, surprised. I didn’t know Vicki’s parents very well, but it surprised me that they wouldn’t support whatever it was their daughter wanted to do. “Why don’t you just tell me. I promise I won’t think it’s weird, or creepy, or whatever.”

“Well… I want to be a pathologist,” she said, looking up at me. “You know, doing autopsies and stuff? Figuring out why people died,” she started speaking quickly, and I could tell from the look in her eyes that she needed to justify herself, that she was desperate for some sort of approval. “Science has always been my favourite subject, and medicine is really interesting, more than just working in a lab somewhere. And it didn’t gross me out, or anything, when we’ve done dissections in Biology! I thought about being a doctor, a surgeon maybe… but I’m just not sure about the idea of working on actual living people. And I’ve always really liked puzzles! I think I’d do much better with dead people, being able to take my time and figure out what happened to them, without worrying about killing them myself if I’m not fast enough to figure out what’s wrong,” she started chewing her lip, waiting for my response. I made myself wait, thinking it out, not wanting to give her just a gut reaction.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” I said, nodding seriously.

“You do?” she gasped, her face brightening like I’d just turned on a light.

“You’ve clearly thought it out, considered both your strengths and your possible weaknesses, and found a career that fits them, and that interests you,” I smiled. “The only advice I’d give is to keep your options as open as possible while you’re working towards your goal. You might find out after you finish your bachelor’s that lab work actually does appeal to you after all, and you want to get a masters and Ph.D.. Or once you get to med school, and actually start seeing patients as part of your training, you might find that working with live ones isn’t as worrisome as you think it will be right now. But as long as you keep your mind and your options open, and you don’t nail down any decisions until you have enough experience to be sure you’re making the right ones for yourself, I think that’s a terrific plan. And if your current plan stays exactly the same the whole way through, it still isn’t weird or creepy. Not at all! It’s an important job, one not a lot of people can do. But I’m sure that if you work and study hard, you’ll be wonderful at it.”

Suddenly her arms were wrapped around me, squeezing me tight, her face buried against my chest.

“Thank you!” she murmured, and I couldn’t help but wrap my other arm around her as well, giving her a squeeze, leaning down to give her a chaste kiss in her hair. I meant nothing by it, honestly… it was like a reflex, after the thousands of times I’d performed the exact same action whenever Mellie gave me a hug like that.

“I didn’t do anything, sweetie,” I told her. “It’s your plan, and it’s a good one.” She tightened her grip on me even more, then slowly backed away and resumed her position at my side with my arm around her back, now with hers around mine as well. She moved back just in time; she may have been far too young for me, and my daughter’s best friend to boot, but my body sure didn’t know that! Having her pressing up against me like that, with her small, firm breasts squashed firmly against my chest, had triggered a reaction I had no way to control. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to have noticed the effect she’d had on me.

“So… Mellie decided she didn’t need your help in the kitchen?” I asked, seeking to divert the conversation to safer areas.

“I think she decided my help was counterproductive, actually,” she giggled sweetly. “It was taking her longer to explain what she wanted me to do than to just do it herself. So she sent me out to see if you needed any help, instead. Do you? Need any help, I mean?”

“Not really. But you’re welcome to stay out here anyways, if you like.” We laughed and talked, mostly with me prompting her to tell me more about how school was going, and her probing for memories of my own college days, wondering about what it was really like and what she should expect. The conversation continued when we rejoined Mellie inside, just finishing up with the seasoned green beans and caesar salad she’d prepared. It was an excellent meal, any of my residual disappointment about Mellie having a friend over having been long since dispelled. Vicki surprised me yet again as we were filling the dishwasher, asking if maybe we all wanted to watch a movie together before bed.

“I’d be good with that,” I said. “You’re the guest, Vicki, so why don’t you go ahead and pick something?”

She agreed, taking Mellie by her hand to go and help her pick. I puttered around the kitchen a little longer, until they called from the den that they were ready to start. I found them on either side of the couch in front of the tv, the middle cushion conspicuously left open for me. I thought that was a little odd, having expected that they’d want to sit together, but I didn’t think too much of it. It made more sense when I realized they’d picked a horror. I’m not a big fan of the genre, but when the girls each started crowding in on me from the sides, clutching at my knees during the scary parts, I understood the reason for the seating arrangements. I leaned back and wrapped my arms around them, prompting them to cuddle in tighter, grateful for the extra sense of security my embrace was providing.

I got hugs from them both after the movie was over, the one from Mellie that I expected and the one from Vicki that I didn’t. It didn’t last as long as the one she’d given me out by the grill, but I still had to readjust myself in my slacks after the two of them had safely retired back to Mellie’s room. I collapsed back onto the couch in front of the news, but my mind was elsewhere. Maybe it was time to start considering dating again, I thought. Masturbation could take care of the physical needs, more or less, but if my body was starting to betray me over my daughter’s teenage friends, maybe that was my subconscious’ way of telling me I needed more. I sighed, not looking forward to the prospect. Sex was one thing, I could definitely get behind my body wanting actual sex again, rather than relying on my hand the way I had been. It was the idea of dating that I didn’t much care for.

It had taken me ages to find my Gwennie, when we’d been in our early twenties together. Girls like her, girls who are willing to give me what I need… they’d been hard to find, even back then. And I already knew from speaking with my divorced friends that the pickings out there were slim at best. Women are just worse at dealing with their emotional baggage than guys are, I think. When you date a woman my age, you aren’t just dating her. You’re dating the husband who cheated on her and left her for his hot young secretary. You’re dating the father who never had time for her. You’re dating every shitty boyfriend she’s ever had. Basically, all that baggage means you’re screwed before you even start.



None of that is to say that men don’t have baggage, we most certainly do! I lost my soulmate, the mother of my only daughter, to cancer; believe me, that left me with some baggage! But I’d been dealing with it, slowly working past it, for almost two years. And I’d had the good sense not to be trying to date anybody while I was doing it, the way women seem to do!

I was still chewing over the idea an hour or so later, when I heard soft footsteps approaching the couch.

“Scary movie keeping you awake?” I asked quietly as Vicki came closer, trying like hell to keep my eyes fixed on hers where they belonged. She was wearing a loose white t-shirt to sleep in, her small, erect nipples poking obviously against the thin fabric, the hem not quite long enough to hide glimpses of the powder-blue cotton panties she was wearing underneath.

“Not exactly,” she whispered back, silently stepping closer, folding her leg under her as she sat down beside me, facing me. I looked at her quizzically, and suddenly it was her who couldn’t maintain eye contact. “I had to wait for Mellie to fall asleep, so I could sneak back out without her knowing. I wanted to ask you something.”

“You did?” I asked stupidly.

“Yeah,” she took a deep breath, biting her lip as she fought to slowly bring her gaze back up to mine. “I wanted to ask… if I could sleep with you, tonight?”

“Uh…” I said. Yep, that was me, the very soul of intellect and erudition. “You mean, because Mellie steals the covers, and you can’t get to sleep in her bed?” I tried, knowing that was not what she meant.

“No,” she smiled impishly, shaking her head. “She is a cover-hog, but I’m used to that. I’m asking because I’ve had an enormous crush on you for ages, and I really, really want to have sex with you tonight!”

“Oh,” I choked out.

“’Oh’? Just ‘oh’?” she giggled quietly, moving herself closer. Her bare knee was resting against my thigh. I could see more of her panties, the fabric of her shirt bunching up around her waist; there was a tiny, darker spot in the light blue fabric. It was taking an extraordinary amount of willpower to keep myself from reaching out to test the wetness there for myself.

“That would be a very, very bad idea,” I told her, trying to convince myself at least as much as I was her.

“Would it? Are you sure?” she asked, her fingers stroking my arm. “I think it sounds like a fantastic idea!”

I just slowly shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.

“Maybe we could start by just kissing for a little while,” she suggested. “That much would be okay, wouldn’t it?” She didn’t wait for my answer, leaning forward, her hand sliding up my arm to the back of my neck. I couldn’t bring myself to push her away and she leaned slowly closer, finally making contact. Her lips were so soft, and sweet, the tip of her tongue teasing my mouth. Before I knew it she was in my lap, straddling me, my hands on her waist with me having no conscious memory of having placed them there.

We kissed for a long time, slowly, intently. She drove her tongue inside my mouth, exploring deeply as she ran her fingers through my hair, pressing herself against me. She pulled back slowly, coaxing me to return the favour, and I did. She closed her lips, sucking on my tongue. My hands were on her ass, not her waist, and again I wasn’t sure quite how that had happened. She was so firm under that soft blue cotton, so tiny. I know some guys love big, juicy asses… but not me. When I was young, that was something that only black and latino guys looked for in their women, but I know it’s become a thing for a lot of white guys too, in the intervening years. But I’ve just never understood the appeal, never joined the trend. For me, there’s nothing better than a tiny little ass, one that fits so easily into my hands, just like Gwennie’s had. Vicki’s was like that, too; tiny, round, firm… perfect in every way! I just couldn’t get enough, loving the way it was making her moan as I squeezed her tender young flesh nice and tight in my hands.

“I want this!” she gasped, minutes or hours later, I was so disoriented by her kisses and the feeling of her body rubbing against mine that I had no idea how much time had passed. “You’re not pressuring me into this, you’re not taking advantage of me. I want this! So I’m younger than you… so what? I’m old enough to know what I want, old enough to understand what it means, old enough to be responsible for my choices! This is what what I’m choosing. I choose you! I want you!” she moaned, her entire, tiny little body shuddering in my arms. “Tell me you want me too!”

“Yes!” I gasped into her mouth, our kissing becoming suddenly frantic, so much that I could no longer even speak. I couldn’t tell her how sexy she was, how amazing she felt in my lap, how it felt like she had been made for me, how she fit perfectly against me as I held her tight. I couldn’t tell her any of those things, not without stopping kissing her, and so I showed her, instead. I stood, lifting her easily, like she weighed nothing, holding her by my grip on her ass and her legs and arms wrapped around me, as I carried her up the stairs to my bedroom.

I nudged the door closed behind me with my foot, as quietly as I could to avoid waking Mellie down the hall. I didn’t want to put Vicki down, but she was struggling to undo the buttons on my shirt, I was squeezing her too tightly against my chest. I set her on her knees on my bed as a compromise. I took over on the shirt, she moved to my belt and slacks; I liked it was better that way anyways. I hurried, tossing my shirt at my hamper, staring into her eyes as she worked. I knew what was coming, and didn’t want to miss a moment of it.

“Oh God!” she gasped, my cock springing upward as she pulled down my pants and boxers at once. She looked up into my eyes in wonder, excitement, and not a little fear. I smiled down at her encouragingly, stroking my fingers through her fine blonde hair, guiding her up into another kiss. She let me, but broke away quickly, staring downward at what she had found, tentatively reaching out to take it into her hands.

“How big is it?” she whispered almost reverently as she experimented, feeling the weight of it. Her fingers couldn’t reach her thumb when she wrapped it in her tiny little hands. “Have you ever measured?”

“Nine and a half inches,” I told her with a smile. “According to Gwen, at least. She reacted just the same way, the first time she saw it. I half wanted to kill her, when she made us stop while she went searching for a ruler… though of course, she more than made it up to me once she’d finished measuring.”

“God…” she sighed, smiling happily and shaking her head, reaching down to help me the rest of the way out of my pants. I toed off my socks as well, leaving myself completely naked in front of her. She looked up at me again, suddenly serious. “You have to be gentle with me, okay? I’m not a virgin… but I pretty much am, compared to you! I’ve only had sex with one boy, one time… and he was nowhere near as big as you are!”

“Just the once?” I asked, a little concerned. “Didn’t like it much?” Not that I’d expected more partners, at her age, but I was surprised that she’d only had sex the one time. If my experience at her age had been any sort of a guide, teenagers were like bunnies; after the first time, they wanted it as often as they could get it.

“What was to like?” she scrunched up her nose in disgust, which just made her look cuter, then she giggled. “He lasted all of about thirty seconds, and he wouldn’t even get me off with his fingers after. The prick! I mean, I could kind of understand, if we hadn’t used a condom, but as if that was ever going to happen! And he’d fingered me before, without any complaints! He just didn’t feel like it anymore, because he’d already gotten his. So I dumped his stupid ass, and chased him out of my house buck-ass naked, hitting him with my shoe! Then I went back in for his clothes, threw them down at him from out my window, and made him get dressed out on the lawn!”

“Good girl!” I laughed, and she beamed up at me, giggling and with cheeks flushing pink as she dropped her eyes again, embarrassed. I lifted her chin, kissing her slow and deep, then looked her deeply into her pretty blue eyes. “Let’s make sure you enjoy yourself more this time, shall we?”

“Yes, please!” she giggled again, renewing the kiss. I slipped her shirt off, slowly and blindly, only then leaning back to look at her.

“Fuck me!” I gasped, taking her in. She was so skinny, even more than I’d expected, but not in a way that made her look unhealthy. I could see her ribs, sure, but they looked natural on her, and her perfect little B-cup breasts suited her perfectly! I’ve never been one to fixate on the size of a girl’s breasts; it’s always been quality over quantity, for me, and I could tell just by looking that Vicki’s were amazingly firm and full and round. Her areolas were of a scale with her breasts, about the size of a quarter at most, and a very pale pink to match her pale Nordic skin and hair. Her nipples themselves were puffed up like gorgeous little pencil erasers, blushed to a much deeper and incredibly tempting pink by her arousal, and had me literally salivating at the idea of sucking them into my mouth!

“That is the general idea…” she teased. I laughed, remembering just in time to stay quiet so we wouldn’t wake Mellie, and pulled her into another kiss. Then I ducked my head further, no longer willing to deny myself the feeling of those firm little nipples on my tongue. But she was so much shorter than me it still wasn’t really working, even with her on her knees on the bed. I gave up and just lifted her up into the air again by her ass, bringing those pretty little titties up to my mouth. She squealed quietly in surprise, then moaned with pleasure as I started to suck, wrapping her arms around my neck and legs around my waist, pulling me even tighter into her. Her nipples were so tiny and erect, begging to be bitten, and I definitely indulged; I was tentative, at first, not sure how she’d respond, but I think she enjoyed the feeling of my teeth biting into her flesh even more than she did the sucking. I was in heaven… but I needed even more. I moved my hands from her ass to her waist, lifting her away from me and throwing her backwards onto the bed without warning. She let out another surprised little squeal as she bounced; funny how that sound didn’t seem to annoy me any more, coming from her. I crawled menacingly up after her, loving the way she started to tremble with mixed fear and desire as she stared into my eyes, lifting and welcomingly spreading her knees for me. I wasn’t one to pass up an invitation like that! I bent down, gently running my hands up and down the backs of her thighs, leaning in for a soft kiss right next to the line of her panties, at the junction of where her leg met her core. She cooed appreciatively just at that, but that little dark spot in her panties was much more pronounced now, after all the attention I’d been paying her tits, and I couldn’t resist moving over for a nibble. I couldn’t taste much, not through her panties like that; I wanted more! I slipped my fingers under the band, yanking them to her knees, getting another cute little squeal at the roughness of the motion.

“What? Is it okay?” she said nervously, and it was only then that I realized I’d been kneeling there, staring.

“Sorry, sweetie, I didn’t mean to make you feel self-conscious.” I smiled up at her, shaking my head and looking down at her again. “I just got a little lost in the enjoyment of the moment, is all. You are a sight to behold, let me tell you!”

“Really?” she asked, as timid as I’d ever heard her.

“Oh, yeah!” I said with as much feeling as I could put into the words, looking up at her again so she could look right into my eyes as I said it. “It is gorgeous, sweetie, just like the rest of you!” I wasn’t exaggerating. Her outer lips were ever so slightly puffy, swollen a beautiful shade of pink against her pale skin, her tiny landing strip confirming her status as a natural blonde. Her inner lips, so small and trim that they were barely even there, looking so soft, wet and inviting that I could hardly even believe she was real. More than anything, my eyes were drawn to her clit, a tiny little nub, almost red it was so swollen with arousal, timidly poking out from its tiny pink hood.

“Well then finish taking those off, and get down here, already!” she smiled, extending her arms to me. “I need more kisses!”

“You don’t have to ask me twice!” I laughed, hurriedly stripping her the rest of the way out of her panties and tossing them aside, then letting her pull me down towards her mouth. “But only for a little while! You’re a terrific kisser, but you know I’m not going to be able to resist kissing that pretty little pussy of yours for much longer!” She giggled again as our lips met, the hardness of my shaft coming to rest naturally against the welcoming warmth of her mound.