“Daddy, will you read me a (my last) bedtime story?”
or Sometimes Love is a Little Kinky

Slumped in my leather Mission style easy chair, trying to concentrate on reading the New York Times Magazine online on my laptop after a hard day of planting, seeing the full moon reflecting off the snow on the ground streaming through the window illuminating the lit Menorah with all nine candles blazing, I knew the end was near when Esperanza (Hope in English, named after one of her father's Hispanic relatives) slowly pulled herself out of her Quickie wheelchair for the first time since she found herself living in it 18 months ago.

Spreading her "twelve" year old legs and giving me a little "accidental" peek at her panties under the almost to the knees modest Isaac Mizrahi black skirt, she pulled herself onto my chair, and rested on my right thigh. Taking a deep breath while moving to face me, she asked in her now slurred voice from the drugs, “Doddiwillureadmeahbedtymestori?" (“Daddy, will you read me a bedtime story?")

"Sure," I said putting away the laptop. Looking down at the desert of her bald head, remembering her long gone red hair and energy as her white button down blouse, giving me a glimpse of her redeveloping budding hills and valley, I asked. "What story would you like to hear? Mulan? Cinderella? Beauty and the Beast? Esther and Mordecai? Scherazade?"

"None of them," she said, shaking her bare Deltan-like head defiantly but throwing her arms around me in a sudden burst of calm energy like the center of a hurricane. I noted the tears beginning to well up in the corners of her tired eyes. "This time, I want the story to be about me. About when have my Quinceañera (the 15th birthday celebration for a Hispanic woman celebrated in my family honoring her transistion from being a child into a woman) and when I,” she emphasized by raising her voice, “fall in love and meet my beshert" (soul mate in Hebrew, her mother’s language).

That will happen, won't it?" she asks hesitantly, her body shivering slightly from being out of the comfort of the heated chair. I look into her moist pale almond eyes and realize, she knows.

"Yes, Esperanza”, I say soothingly as if I was trying to capture a wild animal. I pull her closer to keep her warm. “It happens to all of us. We all meet our beloved at some time in our life." I find myself reluctantly saying, "Even you."

"Promise?" she replied. Her doe like cedar eyes were as wide as saucers of spilled tea.

"Yes, I promise to make sure it happens, one way or another."

"Good," she sighs, letting gravity press her little curved bottom against my thunder thigh, feeling my arms caress her like ivy surrounding a tree, helping her rest her difficult to hold up on her own head against the dark forest of fur on my chest. I hear her breath deeply in contentment and security, see her eyes dry up, and begin.

"Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a man and a woman..." I paused. "Do you want it to be two women, Esperanza?"

"No, let's be traditional this time." she whispered, using her small hands to grab a hold of my upper chest hair, while pressing her growing nips against me. Bringing back memories when slapping sounds had awakened me. Entering her room bit by bit, I had discovering her and a tied up nude female playmate pretending they were doctor and a naughty patient or was it teacher and partially undressed student, it had been so long. Watching them from the corridor, I found myself aroused by the sight of her administering a spanking and then watching her receive one in reply. Her little bottom wriggled in animal delight by the descending blows.

"OK. Who had never met. And the woman had been raised by her father, a carpenter after her mother had died when she was eight. But now, the woman was of merging age but no man (or woman) would want her. Although she dressed conservatively for a woman, she had learned the male trades as well as the female ones. They were all scared of her. Afraid she would want all of the power of the relationship." I paused as she squirmed and started massaging her stomach.

“Are you felling the pain again? I ask but not really wanting to hear the answer.

“Uh, um.” She replied, her eyes starting to moisten again like a mountain creek in the spring.

“Would you like me to rub it the way I rubbed Imah’s (mother in Hebrew) when she was having her first period before her Quinceanera?

“Oh, yes, dadi.” She energetically responded. “Massage me the way you would comfort mommy. When I was inside her.”

"OK," I answer as my hand drifts down to massage her belly, the way I used to massage her many months ago when she was healthier, feeling her right developing breast brush slightly against my arm, the nip probing like a plant pushing through the snow in spring. Remembering how well developed and firm that she looked when she was bent over and taking a spanking. And wishing that I was the one giving it to her by making my hand as red as her virginal ass cheeks.

"Hmmm," she murmurs in agreement, turning around to throw her head into my chest, faintly smelling my after-shave "Different Loving", unbuttoning my shirt as if were August and not late December, shivering from the cold encircling both of us as well as feeling the descending moon light on us while letting my hands fall to caress her rounded peach cheeks straining to escape from her skirt.

My cock begins to stir with attention. I try not to kiss her and pull my hands upward, trying to defy the natural laws to massage her lower back. It has been a while. I never though I would have the opportunity. I feel her nips stabbing at me, hands running through my forest, body trying to arouse me while her smell began to develop like ash from a smoldering volcano.

Reluctantly turning her around, hearing her protest, agreeing to let her sit on my lap, legs wrapped around my thighs as she watches the two dying candles from Friday night dinner, resting against my still growing penis. Feeling her hands brush lightly against it and my stiffening response as she remembers what she learned in school.

"And so, the woman, whose name was the same as yours, Esperanza felt that no one would want her and went for long walks in the woods. One day, while walking by the river, now raging from the spring floods, she saw a stranger, Ferdinand..."

"Daddy, that's your name!" She exclaimed as her eyes begin to flicker with recognition.

"Well, I couldn't think of anyone else," I stammer. "It's your story, may I use my name?"

"All right," she sighs as if her hand has been between her legs all this time, fingering and rubbing her clit, seeing if her pussy would get moist if she played with it the way she would let the flow of warm water from a faucet fall against it.

"OK," I return to the story. "Esperanza saw him try to straddle the river only to fall in and be captured by the raging current. Expecting him to rise to the surface, she leaped in when he didn't surface and pulled him to the shaded bank, resisting the strong pull of the water's flow. When he awoke, his head hurting from the fall against the unyielding rocks, he thanked her and asked how she was able to do what most could not. She told him of her upbringing but hid the fact that none of the men in her village had asked for her hand in marriage.

After asking about her in the village and not liking what he heard, he asked her father’s "permission" to court her, who gave it with great enthusiasm, Ferdinand settled in the village and courted Esperanza. He told her that he wasn't courting her because she had saved him but because she interested him. Nor was he courting her just to be married but because he truly loved her and would do anything for her. It was nice to have an equal but a switch in bed. And she was truly worth a price above rubies as she was a Woman of Valor.

Within a year, they were married under the Chuppah, the traditional wedding canopy (but she broke the glass) for both of them as the musicians played Tejano/Ladino, Arab Belly Dance, Israeli Hora, and Klezmer music (reflecting both their heritages) and lived happily after." I quickly added looking at my watch. The arms read 11:30 PM.

"Mmmm," I heard Esperanza moan and turn herself around, using my neck to anchor her arms. "That was a good story. Much better than all the others. But did they kiss and make love, daddi?"

"I'm sure they did, darling."

"Show me, daddi. Kiss me. Pretend you're Ferdinand." I heard her whisper in my ear, feeling her suddenly cooling breath against my neck. Looking into her wet eyes, Esperanza threw herself against me, begging me to make love to her the way her story characters did. "I know," she sobbed, "that I'm not going to grow up. But, daddy, before I go, let me experience it," she pleaded. "Please, Dahddio, please."

I didn't know what to do. None of the training had prepared me for this possibility. It seemed the only thing I could do was hold her and hope the passing would happen tonight. And quickly. It didn't seem like she was capable of consent. Yet, she knew what was happening. I was aroused, wanting to be "her Ferdinand", wanting to drag her in lust and love, take her in the snow on the riverbank on the outskirts of our small village, probing her mouth with mine, playing with her tits, ass, skin, whispering sweet words into her ears, anointing her with oils, cuddling with her and starting the next day with a rise. I tried to resist the river of lust ready to burst within me. My love for her breached the dam and let the river deposit a new layer of silt in the flood plains of our relationship.

Our tongues met. I tasted her saltiness from the medication. Finding it to be an aphrodisiac, I plunged my tongue deep in her mouth and sucked greedily on it after 6 months of celibacy. She imprisoned my neck and responded like a raging mountain stream. With one hand, I begin to caress her behind, slipping my hands under her schoolgirl skirt, fondling the soft cotton panties before penetrating to her bare skin, fingering the crack of her ass as she arched her back in longing. The other slowly unbuttoned her shirt, exposing the push up bra, moving up behind to her back to remove it, and release her growing and developing tits from bondage as my cock strained to have a dream to be free.

"OOOOHHH, doddi, I’ve been a bad girl." I heard her cry as one hand began to fondle my now rising cock still incarcerated in my pants, stirring up my volcanic desires, forbidden desires. “Spank me, I've been a bad girl.” Her tongue fucked my ears making them moist like a cave. "Take me to your and mommy's bed. Fuck me hard," she exclaimed as memories returned and I could smell her hornyness. “Everywhere. In my mouth, in my pussy, in my ass. Make me your slut, doddi!” She gasped and sputtered loudly like what candles would do just before they would go out as the words took out some of her remaining energy.

I picked her up, all emaciated 70 pounds she was and carried her, using my cock as an anchor, pushing hard against her and laid her down in our bed. I finished undressing her with both gentleness and rough lust as my eyes became inflamed and she touched her lips to one another, letting her watch me undress and doing her last strip tease look as I laid her on the bed.

I started caressing her, feeling her mouth around mine, wrapping my tongue around hers and feeling hers probe me like a soldier crossing a minefield, tasting her muskiness, impaling her mouth in desire as she made me hard, pulling her body over so I could spank her to make more than her cheeks cherry red, tongue fucking her pussy while she slurped on me like her favorite ice cream stick to get her ready while slipping a moist finger inside the dark side of her cleaved bottom before letting her guide my cock to her pussy and asking me to finish up her tight lubricated ass as she sat on me feeling me fondle her tits, kiss her more passionately as I circled her aroused clit with my nimble fingers as we both quickly exploded in lusty, unprotected love.

"That's what ldoddis are for, Esperanza," I whispered afterwards as my arms tried to caress and protect her from the unyielding cold. "Gracias L'ahava (Thank you, my love in Spanish and Hebrew)," she replied as the redness began to fade from her heaving chest or the city at sunset and her engorged nipples began to shrink like an island sinking into the sea after a sudden volcanic eruption.

A few minutes later, as the clock struck midnight, I felt her body grow still and resist life as she stopped breathing. Respecting her DNR (do not resuscitate) request in her advance medical directive, I held her for a few moments and kissed her for the last time before bursting out in tears like a fireworks display. Now the grieving would begin.

Her illness, the curse we call it on the planet Haman is a strange disease. Two years ago, at age 28, she was a vibrant woman, beloved wife, and newly graduated Ph.D. from the University du Mars. In the last 18 months, she had de-aged one year for every month both physically and mentally to the point where just up until the end; she didn't know that I was the man she had pulled from the river rushing by her house at age 18. And who would stand by her and be there for her when she finally went for her final walk on the ice. Among my people, no one dies alone and no one dies unloved.

But I think, in the end Esperanza did know who I was and that's why she demanded that our last act together be something special, making love between bonded lovers. Because that is what love is really all about. Being there for the other when they needed us. No matter what the cost.

And it didn't feel like making love to a "child" even though she had the body and perhaps the mind of one. It felt to me that her words told me that she knew who she was, what had happened to her, and could therefore consent. I don't know if making love to someone whose memory was "impaired" was the right thing to do. Sometimes the moral questions are the most challenging. But when you’re someone’s beshert and l’dodi (my beloved in Hebrew pronounced "dohdi"), sometimes love has to be a little kinky. "Even," as Rabbi Hillel would say, "if you are standing on one foot."

"Beg me 'stop' (writing erotic, Jewish oriented, and very kinky bedtime stories with a twist), hope I won't."

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