textfiles/sex/EROTICA/F/francis4.txt

Copyright <20> 1997,  DoctorP.      ALL Rights Reserved

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached.  The author may be contacted
by writing mrdouble@airmail.net.







FRANCIS   -- Part 4  -- A love story by DoctorP


I did not get back again for almost a month.  The Japs had invaded
Pearl Harbor and life at the Fort was in full chaos.  It was
impossible to get away.  Even my midnight promise went by the
wayside.  But thoughts of my dear Francie were seldom out of my
mind.  Occasionally, I could stop and rest.  When I did, I would
close my eyes and imagine each event of our lives together.  How I
wished to be with her.

On the night of Wednesday, January 8th, (I will never forget the
date), I got a two-hour liberty.  I rushed to her.  When I opened
the front door, she did not come running to me.  I heard the radio
playing and walked toward the sound.  She was in the kitchen with
her back to me, washing the dishes.  The radio was playing "Mares
eat oats, does eat oats ..."  I came up behind her and wrapped my
arms around her.  

She said, "Oh, Billy" and melted back in my arms.  We were in heaven
again.  I lifted her in my arms and we kissed.  Both of us were
weeping.  There could be no greater love than ours.  At last I sat
down on a kitchen chair with her on my lap.  Our lips never parted.
My hand slipped up between her legs.  I explored the incredible baby
softness of her thighs.  Her panties were soaked.  This was a
marvelous erotic child-woman.  I wanted to have her in every way at
once.

As my finger slipped under her panties and found her vaginal
opening, she broke the kiss.  "Oh Billy, let's fuck again. Can we?"

"Oh Francie, I want to fuck you and touch you and lick you and kiss
you all at the same time.  Yes we can fuck again"

She jumped up and began to remove her clothes. I followed. Before I
could get my undershirt off, she stood before me complete naked. Her
tiny rigid nipples and pouting cleft attested to her desire. I reached
down, cupped her mound and inserted two fingers. After several strokes,
I pulled my fingers out, picked her up and laid her on the table. She
spread her legs, I grasped them and pulled her butt to the edge of the
table. It was time to fuck again. My erection entered her easily. Again
she rose on her elbows to watch. I buried my cock in her again and
again. She was so slim that on each stroke I could see a tiny rise in
her abdomen. I withdrew but cum was already beginning to bubble out. She
grasped by erection and milked the cum onto her hand then licked her
hand clean. I kissed her and we shared semen again. 

This wasn't enough, I loved seeing her but I wanted to hold her and
feel her in my arms.  I pulled her off the table.  She stood before
me as I sat in a kitchen chair.  I began to nuzzle her breasts,
stroke her back and cup her tender soft butt in my hands.  Then she
sat on my lap facing me, her legs straddling mine.  The brought her
mound up to my cock and she began to rub up and down.  We were hot
dogging again.  Suddenly she said, "Can we fuck this way?"

"I don't know.  How do you mean?"

"On the chair like this, try to put it in."

She raised up.  It was a little awkward trying to get my penis into
the opening of her vagina but we did it.  She sank down facing me.

"Oh," she said, "it goes so deep."  Then, "I think I like it even
better."

It was great for me.  I was deep in her.  I could keep my arms
around her and caress her back and buttocks.  I could lean her back,
kiss her and view her titties or pull her to me and feel them on my
chest.  It was definitely great.  Soon she began to move.  I grasped
her hips and helped her.  Way too soon she started to whisper, "oh
my goodness."  In seconds it went from whisper to full voiced "oh my
goodness!"  She came and collapsed in my arms.  I was no where near
my orgasm.  I didn't care though.  I loved her so much.  

She rested for less than a minute.  Then with head on my shoulder,
her hips started to move again.  First slowly, then with increased
speed and power.  It was great to be fucked.  Once again I grasped
her waist and aided her pumping.  Quickly, I was ready.  "Oh
Francie, Francie, Francie"  I thrust up into her and began the
greatest orgasm of my life.  She didn't slow down a bit but
continued pumping.  Then with a single "oh my goodness" I felt the
spasms of her vagina and she collapsed again into my arms.

We sat like that as long as we could.  I knew my liberty time was
soon to be up.  I reveled in the feeling of her back.  She was
relaxed as a baby.  My softened cock was still in her.  We were both
wet with our juices.  

"Darling Francie, I love you with all my heart.  You will always be
the only girl for me.  Now I must go.  I will come back just as soon
as I can.  Maybe tomorrow.  Maybe the next day."

She began to cry. I had to leave. I raised her up. My penis came out of
her. How I hated that. She sat back down on the chair as I dressed. She
leaned over on the table with folded arms and wept. I wept too. At last
I had to go. 

I went to the door. She ran after me. We hugged and kissed frantically.
The I pulled her away so I could look at her little naked figure. I
dropped to me knees for the last time, kissed her nipples then sucked
each breast into my mouth. Rising up I surveyed my Sweetheart. Tears
streamed down her face. Her red hair was messed up from our hugs. Her
tiny breasts were swollen with the promise of full womanhood. Her
stomach was indented. Only her mound protruded. Our juices covered the
lips and ran down the insides of her legs. She was beautiful. 

I ran from her arms.

I could not keep my return promise. Not tomorrow, not the next day nor
the next month nor the next year. We shipped out that night. I was
devastated. In days I was on a ship headed west from San Francisco. Days
turned into months, months into years.

I sent her letters. But of course, I did not dare to put true
feelings in them only words. I received only one from her. Her
memory never left my mind. I always tried to keep our midnight
promise. I never changed my watch from N.J. time. 

Eventually I was in the Philippines. We were captured on the island
of Batan. We were starved and beaten. My midnight promise was
forgotten. Sex was just not an important thought. But love was. Her
angel face kept me alive as we staggered near death under the
Japanese oppression. That story needs to be told somewhere else. I
survived and spent eight months in recovery at the Army hospital in
San Diego. 

When I was free to go I began to tremble with anticipation.  It was
1946 she would be nearly seventeen.  I hardly slept on that long
train ride.  I arrived in the city at two in the morning.  The
cabbie just grunted when I told him the address.  I don't know what
I was going to do at that time of day at her house, but I just
wanted to be near.  Two blocks away I told the cabbie to stop.  I
paid him and got out.  

It was terrible when I got there. The building was gone! It just
wasn't there any more. It had been completely torn down. For weeks I
wandered that neighborhood then surrounding neighborhoods. No one
knew of her, when she had left, or where she went. I never saw her
again.

Now I am old. I never married. I fervently pray that she did. She needed
love and babies. I buried myself in my profession. Yes there were other
loves and satisfying sex, but there would never be another Francie. Her
face sometimes fades in my memory. Only in my dreams is she clear. I
sometimes wake after a dream and I can see her as if it were the first
moment. She is still twelve, she still shudders with orgasm. Her "oh my
goodness' still echoes in my ears. That is why I am still in love with a
twelve year old girl.

I often keep my midnight promise now over fifty years later. I wonder if
she does.

















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