I turned her and sat with her on the bed, stroking her hair, her back, her cheeks. When she had herself in hand again she warned me, "you will be paid...back with interest." She didn't get any further because I had taken her knees and lifted them so she fell backwards onto the bed. I spread her legs open and without warning dove down to her pussy to tantalize her clit for a while before letting my tongue explore the inside if her pussy, where it swirled around and around, bringing first some soft. It had thevoice of an angel, a treble soloist in the school chorus.Blair, age ten, would have been the ideal daughter for any mother if heweren't a boy.Maggie often wondered: Did Laird, her passionate, attentive lover thesepast seven months and Blair's natural father, recognize the girl in ason who loved to gossip and to cook, whose taste in popular music ranthe gamut in teen idols from David Archuleta to the Jonas Brothers, andwho dressed with precious impeccability, his palate of colors. More

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