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“The house is so beautiful Dad.”
Clarissa stood there on the upper balcony, looking across at the avenue of
maple trees, stretching as they did towards the distant roadway. Not far
short of twilight now, the cool breeze made her shiver. She turned and
glanced up at her father, whose hands rested gently on her shoulders.
“Do you really think we will be able to get it?”
The man inclined his head. Her words interrupted his thought-processes. In
terms of “being beautiful,” was not the vision of youthful innocence
cuddled now in his arms, the alpha and omega of achievable feminine
beauty? That he loved her to distraction was merely how it was. She alone
had provided the solace and will to go on, after his wife had lost her
protracted encounter with cervical cancer not sixteen months earlier.
Eighteen now and in her final year of High School, she was everything a
parent might hope for - academically proficient, domestically accomplished
and socially desirable. One might even add – genetically flawless.
Occasionally, Melvin Barlow was lost for words in his daughter’s presence.
“Well if the Bank comes through for us sweetheart, I think we can pull
this off.” he replied. “My contract with the studio has been renewed for
two years and so long as we don’t overspend, yeah I figure we’ll
manage…..struggling like everyone else I guess.”
The girl looked up at her father. How many daughters the world over, could
ever have been so fortunate, she pondered momentarily. Pulling his arms
tightly around her shoulders, she stared at the tranquil vista. Just
across from Tulsy Crescent that fronted Bear Creek Park, some small
children were playing in the recent snowfall, seemingly reluctant to
follow their mother to the park’s exit gate. Clarissa’s instincts left her
in no doubt that this is where she and her father were supposed to be.
Not a week later, Melvin’s loan was approved.
Decentralizing from the apartment in Vancouver to White Rock in Surrey
County seemed akin to moving into the White House after a lifetime’s
residency in a cramped trailer-park. The triple-story nineteenth century
white-gabled home, complete with five bedrooms, three bathrooms and a
triple garage, sat on a two-acre tract well back from the road. Fully
restored and undeniably spacious beyond their needs, something about
“Linton Mews” transcended practicality and if the truth be known, the
owners had been very keen to sell, being happy enough with Melvin’s
initial offer which in other circumstances would have met with a likely
rejection.
The gardens had been professionally established, although it would be
spring before their aromatic charms and symmetry could be fully
appreciated. For now though, Clarissa was content to wander the intricate
pathways, always pausing by the water fountain to admire the features of
the great dragon that straddled its vanquished prey. Frozen-up for the
duration currently, she knew exactly how the tableau must appear with
water gushing from the beast’s mouth. If heaven existed, it had a hard act
to follow!
Given her exemplary academic history, there was no problem with Clarissa’s
re-location to the local High School - Earl Marriott on 16th Avenue - for
her graduating year. She engendered acceptance by her peers from day one,
especially from members of the opposite sex. More than likely the grades
of several besotted young males nose-dived that first semester.
Inevitably winter found itself in recess, the nights became a little
warmer and Clarissa’s garden wanderings soon developed into a night-time
routine. She would take her time crossing the walkways and garden trails,
allowing the various scents to waft in and out of her consciousness.
It was a Friday evening late April that first she became aware of a subtle
shift in reality. Having eaten out at “Tangiers on Eighteenth,” with her
father and subsequently outlasting a re-run of Little Miss Sunshine - a
favorite of theirs, she found herself unable to further repel sleep.
Kissing her father goodnight, she adjourned to the bedroom and having
earlier changed into those rather becoming floral-print pyjamas, she slid
under the covers.
The small bedside clock was showing but a minute or so after one o-clock
when she opened her eyes. Neither frightened nor even vaguely alarmed, she
simply knew that something had tripped her waking mechanism. For a few
moments she sat there listening – to complete silence! As her eyes
gradually adjusted, she noticed that the bay window to the right of her
pillow was open slightly. She was sure she had closed it before getting
into bed. Alighting from her comfort-zone she crossed the carpet and
looked out upon an almost surrealistic moonlit vista. The lightest of
evening mists hung about the trees and it seemed to her as if the
syllables of her name were being whispered in the farthest reaches of the
garden. Drawing her robe around herself she craned her head forward trying
to pick up the least sound but was forced to confront the fact there was
really nothing there, and yet……
Closing the window she clambered back into bed, becoming aware for the
first time that her pulse rate was now slightly higher than normal.
One might nominate few things in life more conducive to blissful
relaxation than being ensconced beneath the covers of a comfortable bed on
a chilly night. Clarissa was but moments from reaching her second REM
stage of the evening when she felt the gentlest of pressure upon her right
breast. Opening her eyes on the instant she lay there unmoving, the
sensation no longer in evidence. But for the beating of her heart, the
room was as silent as the night itself. Slowly she brought her own hand up
to her chest. She had felt the intimate touch and knew this was no
instance of unfettered imagination at work.
For maybe twenty minutes the girl lay still, awaiting further evidence of
the phenomenon, but none was forthcoming. Disappointed, rather than
concerned, her consciousness ebbed away finally. It was however with
bemused interest that upon waking the next morning, she noticed the top
two buttons of her pyjama top were now undone. Had she subconsciously done
this herself mid-sleep or was there another explanation? A flush though
came to her cheeks as she gazed downwards at her now partially exposed
breasts. Distractedly she re-buttoned her top.
Concentration at school was a problem for the entire day. Several times
she found herself staring out at the distant playing fields, looking for
what exactly she had no idea.
Melvin noticed his daughter’s apparent preoccupation during dinner.
“Anything wrong sweetheart?” he asked. “You seem miles away tonight.”
“Oh sorry dad,” she replied, smiling at him. “No, really, I’m fine…just a
little tired I guess. Mind if I go to bed a bit earlier tonight? – got
some homework I have to finish up too.”
“Sure honey,” he said, “See you at breakfast then.”
Kissing him lightly on the cheek she picked up her back-pack and made her
way upstairs.
Try as she might, she simply could not concentrate on the essay. For some
reason she was feeling expectant. Someone or something was waiting for
her. Where she knew not, why she had even less inkling. All she was
cognizant of is that she needed to be ready somehow. Having changed, she
once more crossed to the bay window and opening it, looked out upon the
tranquil setting. A very gentle breeze was inducing movement in the upper
branches of the maples and again she was sure she could hear her name but
imperceptibly whispered on the wind, though just the one time.
She closed the window and walking to her bed, climbed in beneath the
covers. Snuggling up in a fetal position, she hugged the small teddy bear
that had comforted her whilst at the same time sharing her every
life-experience since childhood. Try as she might to stay awake, the
shutters were lowered involuntarily and within ten minutes she was fast
asleep.
She felt neither her buttons being parted nor the first gentle squeeze -
of both her breasts this time. It was following the third such caress that
she woke, fully alert to the intimacies being perpetrated upon her
privacy. For a few moments she simply lay there unaccountably still,
feeling the unseen hand so softly massaging the contents of her bra.
Unable to repress a slight gasp, the fingers were suddenly withdrawn,
prompting her quite without thought, to whisper aloud, “It’s alright, I
don’t mind.”
Seconds passed but no further contact was forthcoming. Twice she repeated
her simple message but was answered only by a hushed silence. It was then
she noticed the window just slightly open. Had not she closed it shortly
before getting into bed? She was no longer sure of anything. At that
moment, a sudden gust of wind blew the drapes to one side and she gave a
small cry of surprise.
Sliding out from under the covers she walked across to the window and
closed it firmly, checking this time that the opening mechanism was fully
immobile.
Having climbed back into bed, Clarissa felt a twinge of disappointment at
the protracted inactivity. Quite subconsciously, her right hand moved
upwards and began idly caressing her own breasts. With the realization of
what she was doing, came a small gasp of embarrassment and she quickly
returned her arm to her side. The silhouettes of the wind-blown trees
reflecting on the ceiling above her bed were vaguely hypnotic and were the
last images she retained before sleep once again overtook her.
***
“Do you believe in ghosts Dad?” Clarissa enquired, while stirring her
cereal abstractedly.
“Haven’t given a great deal of thought to the subject sweetheart,” Melvin
replied “Why? Do you have some particular reason to ask?”
“Not really….I just wondered if you had any experience of such things,”
she added.
Melvin studied his daughter for a moment. “Well to be honest Clarissa, I
have felt your mom’s presence once or twice.” He paused for a moment, “I
think she’s happy that we’re here – don’t you?”
The girl looked across at her father and smiled lovingly. “I’m sure she is
dad.”
It was too much for Melvin who put down his knife and lowered his head,
his grief evident.
Clarissa walked quickly around the table and hugged her father. She had no
idea what to say. She knew just how much he missed her and wished she
could do more to fill the void in his life. For now, her experiences of
the previous evening were relegated to the “miscellaneous file.”
***
Two days passed without incident. It was now Tuesday evening and Clarissa
had been working late, finishing up a major project on “The abolition of
slavery.” Clearing away her books and papers – she couldn’t bear waking up
to a messy room – she changed into her nightdress, completed her bathroom
preparations and wasted no time in getting in to bed. It was so warm and
enervating, had she been a cat she would have purred.
Awaking suddenly, she glanced at the small digital clock on her bedside
table. It was twelve after one.
One hand cupped her right breast, the other she could feel moving very
slowly down her side and towards her hips. Instinctively she looked
towards the drapes. The window was unlatched and open. The hand silently
groping her, relinquished its hold and began insinuating itself beneath
the underside of her bra. So pleasurable was its progress that Clarissa
closed her eyes and sighed aloud, fully in the knowledge that whatever it
was in the room with her, it intended absolutely no harm.
The second unseen hand had now reached her waist and as it continued to
travel inland, across her abdomen and on toward an area that might best be
termed “socially off limits,” she could not prevent the tiniest of gasps
escaping from her lips. Immediately all pressure ceased, even the hand
that had been gently squeezing her breasts withdrew.
“Oh, don’t leave me,” she whispered. “Please come back, I like you doing
that.”
For almost thirty seconds no further contact was detected although the
girl pleaded continuously for her unseen lover to return. Just as she was
resigned to the night’s unfulfilled passing, again she felt the slightest
of caresses across her upper chest.
“Stay with me,” she pleaded.
The hand resumed its former location – beneath her bra and beginning now
to gently fondle her nipples dexterously. Pleasurable at this proved to
be, it was the progress of the second hand that was demanding her total
attention. Coming to rest atop her lower abdomen, the hand began to slide
across her nightdress, at the spot directly beneath which, her panties
were resident. Without any coercion, she parted her legs slightly, which
allowed the hand to caress her entire vaginal area without hindrance. She
could feel her pulse accelerating and her respiration-rate substantially
on the increase.
“Mmmm,” she found herself murmuring.
Partly embarrassed, wholly pleasured, she could only lie there, as what
felt like a middle finger began to depress the material the extent of her
sexy little crevice along her southern climes. She knew she was wet but
had no immediate plans to address the situation. Even as the hand dropped
to the hemline of her nightdress, beginning now to tug the flimsy nylon
higher, she raised her arms above her head, signifying her total
acquiescence to whatever was planned.
She knew her panties were now exposed but offered no resistance even as
the fingers began to retrace their steps the length and breadth of her
vaginal gateway. At the point however she felt (presumably) his fingers
slipping beneath the leg of her panties as they navigated a path through
her generous crop of curly pubic hair, she could not prevent a further
gasp. This time however, no cessation of activity occurred. An index
finger slid in-between her very moist labia, separating the girlish lips
and quite obviously intent on fingering her hitherto un-approached
innocence.
Unable to maintain a fully calm façade as the finger entered her again and
again Clarissa began to thrust upwards with her hips. Unlike anything she
had ever experienced courtesy of her own digits, this was definitely the
real deal. Her eyes still closed, she simply allowed the combination of
both breasts being kneaded and her youthful fissure being rhythmically
penetrated, to build to an emotional peak that was never going to have
other than the one outcome.
One might have termed it an instant light show – she certainly saw stars
for a while. Unable to think straight for several moments she just lay
there, allowing the outbound wave to course its way through her body. By
the time she had regained a degree of emotional control, she realized that
her unidentified accomplice had withdrawn to such distant realms as might
defy explanation. Try as she might to engage some further interaction that
night, she soon recognized that whatever presence had been there was
clearly no longer on-site.
It would be a truism to state that Clarissa slept well that night.
Over the next fortnight the visitations became commonplace. Not every
night admittedly but rarely more than an evening apart. She did notice
that it made little difference what time she actually went to bed, her
unseen lover seemed to prefer the early hours of the morning when it came
to indulging his lustful perpetrations. Not that she was any less desirous
of his attentions. As much to explore her own sexual boundaries as to
tease her spectral partner, Clarissa took to wearing tight little push-up
bras with matching panties to bed, occasionally flaunting her provocative
intent with a hot little g-string – something the teenager would never
have been found dead in, a few weeks earlier.
If proof be needed that just about any girl has a trace of the “slutty
nymph” in her when she wants to act thus, Clarissa had of late taken to
retiring in just her panties and bra and on one recent occasion – just her
panties. She would undoubtedly have taken to sleeping naked fulltime but
for the fact she found the sensation of being stripped beneath the covers
highly arousing. For the same reason, she would turn over on to her tummy
so that her ‘demon-lover’ as she liked to think of him, had to slide his
hands beneath her arms in order to improperly fondle her breasts. He was
also free to smooth a hand across her bottom, exploring the curvaceous
landscape their-upon, before she would part her legs sufficiently that he
might gain access to the moist cavern between her legs.
***
The girl’s upbeat demeanor was not lost on her father.
“You really seem to have settled in here pretty well honey,” he smiled at
her over breakfast a few days later. “Never seen you so, well…….healthy
looking. Something must really be agreeing with you?”
She covered her escalating embarrassment well.
“Really?” she answered. “I hadn’t noticed I was behaving any differently.”
She paused for a minute. “I so totally love this place and the new school
is really cool. Suppose I’m just happy!” She felt the flush that had been
gaining prominence in her cheeks, subsiding rapidly.
“Anyway, I have to go to school now Dad, I’m running late.”
So saying, she scooped up her stuff and flitting around the breakfast
table, gave Melvin a hug before kissing him on the cheek. The sweet fresh
smell of young womanhood delighted him as always.
“What say we go to ‘Tangiers’ tonight?’ he called out as she headed for
the front door. “It’s our third month’s anniversary here.”
“Sure dad, let’s do just that” she replied from the recesses of the
hallway.
***
That evening, Clarissa decide to dress-up for the coming repast. Selecting
a very pretty light blue dress that however displayed considerably more
than was concealed, no way could it have been termed distasteful. One had
only to take stock of the waiters’ expressions when she walked in with her
father.
Her beautifully brushed auburn hair tied up with a matching blue ribbon
hung about her shoulders and she had chosen to wear a pair of tiny
diamond-studded earrings – set in the likeness of a dove, that her mother
had bought for her when she was fifteen. The lightest of make-up completed
the vision – for such she most certainly appeared.
As always, the food at ‘Tangiers’ was impeccable. For the first time
though, Melvin allowed his daughter to have some champagne. After all, it
was a Friday night and she had no school the following day. Also, the pair
was well known there sufficiently, that no-one bothered to ask the girl
for ID. The fact she could have been anywhere from seventeen to twenty-two
really counted for little. In any event, White Rock could hardly be
regarded as hard-line so far as such legalities were concerned.
By her third glass, Clarissa found herself entering unchartered waters.
Giggling profusely, she had to excuse herself more than once to go visit
the restroom. Melvin, realizing his daughter was borderline inebriated,
exerted a degree of seeming parental responsibility on her return to the
table, by calling for the bill and making ready to depart.
Just one more sip daddy?” she pleaded, raising the glass to her lips with
quite some difficulty.
He could not deny her. “Just the one honey, then we have to go.”
She all but drained the glass.
Long before they reached Tulsy Crescent, Clarissa discovered she was
totally unable to focus properly. Twice her father had to prop her up as
they negotiated the long driveway. Pulling into the garage, he could see
she had as much chance of navigating the staircase as she had of piloting
a small aircraft.
Picking her up therefore, he carried her to her bedroom and laid her
gently on the bed.
“Goodnight sweetheart,” he whispered, “Can you get ready for bed on your
own OK?”
Still with her eyes closed, she mumbled “Yep…think so… g‘night daddy.” The
last words were slurred badly. Looking down at her, he smiled lovingly and
then left the room, heading off to the master bedroom in the east wing.
As it eventuated, she was able only to unzip her dress before a
combination of inexplicable dizziness and alcohol-enriched blood saw to it
that her overall perception closed-down for the duration. Sprawled
somewhat inelegantly face-down on her coverlet in just her underwear, it
wasn’t so much sleep that overtook her as a mild coma.
Now, normally when a girl discovers something fondling her breasts while
she’s half-asleep, some major repercussion is to be expected. Clarissa
however just smiled, murmuring audibly as she did so, “I hoped you would
come….”
Once again the hands took the initiative, feeling their way across her
taut little bottom, smoothing their way along her rear cheeks and across
the back of her thighs. She retained enough presence of mind to giggle
softly even though she was barely aware of proceedings. Completely removed
from the real-time, she simply giggled once more as the clasp of her bra
was unhooked just below her shoulders and the skimpy item pulled from
under her. A hand slipped beneath her tummy and sliding under the
waistband of her panties, felt its illicit way to her vaginal lips
whereupon it began rubbing her genital area with professional zeal. She
probably was quite unaware that her hips were responding provocatively to
the indecent attention being paid now to both her upper and lower body.
Vaguely, she felt the hands propelling her over on to her back but was not
sufficiently involved to be able to argue. The sensation of having both
her breasts now squeezed softly as well as having her nipples manipulated,
aroused her yet further. She tried opening her eyes but the cirrus clouds
swirling in her head seemed to dull the optic nerves and she was only able
to make out in the darkness, the vaguest of outlines above her. Even as
she tried unsuccessfully to focus, something came closer and she felt lips
– a man’s lips – come into contact with her own. The kiss was
prolonged…..enough that she could barely draw breath. Completely at the
mercy of this ghostly apparition, all she sensed is that she wanted to be
kissed more.
This however took on a new meaning when the lips moved to her right breast
and began to suckle her steadily.
“Making me so….so hot,” she murmured almost inaudibly.
Fully transported as the lips applied their wondrous pleasures to her
other nipple, she could but wriggle her hips in recognition of their
silent talent. Unwilling as well as fully unable to halt progress, she was
almost disappointed when the lips momentarily withdrew from their applied
duties only to be replaced by a new sensation – her panties being steadily
pulled down off her hips.
Out to it she still was for all intents and purposes but something of a
self-preservation instinct survived as she attempted quite futilely to
prevent their total removal. Naturally that first kiss on her fully
exposed cleft put paid to any further resistance.
“Oh Ohh,” pretty much covers her vocal assessment of the situation. Again
she tried to open her eyes but was unable to make out anything more than a
transient shape on the bed near her. She felt her legs being parted yet
had neither the awareness nor inclination to address her stark
vulnerability. If she even sensed that rape was a possibility she had no
defense on which to fall back on – as it were!
Any thoughts of resistance had they even been present, were dissipated on
the spot when she felt the tongue intrude between her spread labia. In a
fully wakened condition she may have taken offense at such un-ladylike
treatment but in the hazy condition she found herself, the sensation was
without pleasured precedence. Her arms high up on the pillow now, she
simply moaned aloud and parted her legs further. Her young and
inexperienced body ached for greater fulfillment.
Such was not to keep her waiting.
Barely aware of any game plan, all she sensed is that something or someone
was hunched up over her. Even trying to concentrate, the outline of her
companion seemed to waver around the edges as if the moonlight was being
thwarted in its effort to illuminate the room, by the passing clouds.
She thought she heard someone say “Clarissa” but was denied further
reflection on the matter at the moment something distinctly hard and
extended penetrated her vaginal cavern. Unable to prevent a cry from
escaping her lips, her mouth opened in shock as the newly come by
assailant re-entered her formerly virginal opening. Despite the extreme
discomfort, though this was obviously tempered by her partially
anaesthetized condition, the repetitious nature of the assault very soon
won her over – even though she remained half unconscious. The harder the
thrusting the more her inert form seemed to respond to the call. Tossing
her head from side to side now she was quite unaware of her own
involvement, particularly the upward contribution made by her own hips.
She could hardly have detected her left earring detaching itself as a
result of its owner’s exertions. Strong hands held her tight around her
waist now as the flames of pro-creational desire built-up in her own womb.
Her hairline and cleavage damp with exertion, she sensed at the periphery
of her awareness, her ghostly partner’s finality. She felt a warmth flood
her internally just seconds ahead of her own violent shock-wave.
The pressure at her waist disappeared and she sensed she was alone. Had
she been blessed with her full faculties at that moment, she would
probably have cried. As it was, she lay there fully expended physically.
She tried to form some coherent thoughts for a while but was unable to
find a way through those Cirrus formations. Whatever came next would have
to wait until her head cleared or the morning….whichever came first.
A little later, further along in the east wing, Melvin couldn’t get to
sleep. Turning his head once more to try to find a comfier position,
something glinted in the moonlight beneath the corner of his pillow.
It was in the likeness of a tiny dove. |
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