looming big in the spring. When the season resumed after the winter break, we were going to make a run, I could feel it. My team had silently risen from the masses and, in my opinion, had the potential to win it all. To be ready, we needed to play the best competition available. So when I heard that the current state champion, plus the team thought to be a top contender, had both signed up for a tournament on the far side of the state, and that one more team was needed to make a bracket, I changed our plans and entered. Many of the parents howled at the sudden schedule change since it required overnight stays on short notice. To alleviate their concerns, I agreed to organize a way to take most of the players without their parents, since they had already made other commitments. Two other parents volunteered to help, and we split the team, each of them bunking four kids in their room, and me taking seven. My plan was simple: with seven players plus myself, we would rent two adjoining rooms and literally camp out.
Karla was one of the seven, and once we arrived the complications this created were suddenly apparent. Karla had never stayed with me on a trip, and I failed to consider that a budding young girl, even a tomboyish athlete like Karla, needed some degree of space between her and a pack of six rowdy boys. The solution was simple. The boys would use the two beds in one room, plus the sleeping bags they brought, and all stay together. They didn't want to be separated anyway. This left the other room with its two beds and bath for Karla and me.
After a team dinner, we all retired to the boy's room to watch a movie and relax. We had a mid-morning game against the reigning state champion, so with the movie over it was lights out at 10:00 and everyone was required to go to bed. As Karla and I made our preparations for bed, I closed the door between the two rooms to give Karla as much privacy as possible, threatening the boys that I better not hear a sound. Even though I spent plenty of time around girls her age on the soccer fields, I did not have a daughter and felt awkward to be sharing a room with a young girl. As Karla changed in the bathroom and brushed her teeth, I set the clock and read a book, making every effort to become invisible and give Karla all the space she may need. But even with my carefully measured efforts at nonchalance, I couldn't help but notice how cute she looked in the running shorts and T-shirt Karla had chosen for sleeping. She settled in and we said our goodnights, and then cut the lights. Only after it was dark did I remove my shirt, since I can't stand to sleep in one. However, I left my nylon shorts on, which only seemed appropriate…
III.
I really cannot say what time of night it was when Karla crawled into my bed. Dead to the world, I vaguely remember someone cuddling up to me, their back to my front, and my arm instinctively wrapping around the warm body only to be grabbed and held close. In retrospect, I've rationalized that deeply asleep, I thought it was my wife who curled up next to me. She and I often slept as close as two spoons in a drawer, so it wasn't unusual to feel a warm body close to my own, and it was pure reflex that I pressed close. I cannot say how much time went by, but my first clear recollection was suddenly passing from sleep to total alertness. Perhaps my senses had been trying to send me signals, to pierce the sleep induced fog in my head, for in an instant I knew that it was Karla pressed up hard against my body, her back against my chest, her butt pressed hard against my crotch, our legs intertwined. She had hold of my arm, which wrapped around her, and held my hand firmly against her chest. I nuzzled my nose into her hair. From slumber to panic in mere seconds, I pulled my head back in recoil, stunned by my involuntary but grossly inappropriate and intimate position against Karla. But as I pulled away, her grip on my arm tightened, and just as quickly I became concerned for her. Was she troubled in her sleep? Was she having bad dreams? With my knowledge of her personal life, I realized that she probably crawled in my bed seeking comfort. The entire awakening and reaction took but a few seconds, and my breathing was hard but relieved as I realized that despite the inappropriate nature of the situation, I had not done anything wrong. I needed to wake up and relax, then figure out how to correct things. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest that surely Karla could feel it, and the obvious first step was to settle down. As relief spread through me, I began to slowly unwind my legs from Karla's.
I had no intention of depriving this girl of the comfort she was seeking, but I needed to do it from a more appropriate distance. If anyone were to see us entwined together in bed as we were, there would be no explanation suitable, even to someone who knew how much Karla looked to me for help. As I moved my legs, I tried to determine if Karla was awake, but concluded she was not. Our legs apart, I slid my body back a few inches, and then tried to retract my arm from her grip. My plan was to slip over to my own side of the bed, and leave my hand on her shoulder so she would know that I was there. As I tried to extract my hand, her grip tightened and she pulled my arm to her chest, her butt sliding right back up against my body. No doubt this was an involuntary reaction from a sleeping Karla, but the result was impossible to ignore. Pressing my hand against her chest as she was, I suddenly realized I could feel Karla's tiny right breast under my palm, through her T-shirt. The panic returning, I knew I needed to move my hand, but the sleeping girl was holding on tightly, as if my hand and arm was a favored stuffed animal she slept with. At the same time, I was acutely aware of the feel of her breast. Small as it was, the shape and form were clear to me, and I found myself to be horrified by the tingle of excitement this unexpected and unplanned contact was giving me.
It was not the first time for me to notice Karla's budding breasts. During the previous spring, I had my first glimpse of them, quite by accident. We were playing small-sided games, and Karla sat next to me on the bench after I substituted her off the field. In a style popular with girl players, Karla had the sleeves of her jersey tied up on her shoulders with clips made specifically for that purpose. This left her arms fully exposed to the sun. In this case, with the baggy jersey, this also left a large gap under her arm. Hot and tired, and sitting on my left, Karla leaned forward to watch the game, and when she did I was unexpectedly presented with a clear view of her tiny right breast. At that time it was barely more than a nipple and aureole, but her breast was clearly budding out from her chest and I couldn't help but stare at it. She sat in this manner for a full five minutes, then got up to re-enter the game. Unable to look away and excited more than I wanted to admit, it wasn't until she arose that I felt a sudden wave of shame and guilt for my voyeuristic opportunism.
In the second half, Karla took a seat to my right, again leaning forward in the same manner. My eyes moved to the jersey opening immediately, and I was not disappointed. There was her left breast, tiny and beautiful. Even though I felt guilty about my actions, I couldn't concentrate on anything else, and I couldn't look away. As discreetly as I could, I stared at her lovely immature breast until she moved…
IV.
I sought opportunities to repeat my voyeurism and I found with a little effort they did occur.
I couldn't seem to stop myself.
I even found that during stretching exercises, if I was in the correct position I was afforded a good look up Karla's shorts. On many occasions, I got a good look at her panty covered pussy, and even learned that she favored a certain pair of silky aqua colored underwear.
Though Karla never seemed to notice me looking down her shirt, a practice that ended when she began to wear a bra to practice, she did catch me looking at her legs and panties a few times. The first time she turned her body so I lost my view, but after that she merely looked away as if she didn't notice, maintaining her position. Even though I noticed this, I assumed she just didn't realize what I was looking at, and each time I moved eventually away embarrassed and trying not to let it show. Knowing Karla's history, I was merciless in chastising myself for exploiting her innocence in my mind. After practice it was pure denial for me, but each session I would again find myself looking for opportunities. Even though the guilt was overwhelming, I couldn't stop. So it was easy to understand my panicked reaction at first finding Karla snuggled intimately against my body, and now finding my hand accidentally on her breast. To feel even a hint of pleasure in this circumstance was wrong, and I knew it, and as I tried once again to pull my hand back, I knew I would remember the feel of Karla's breast forever. Still quite small, she had grown enough that she was developing the full shape of a womanly breast, if not the magnitude. The nipple area was raised and pointed, and the flesh around the nipple was swollen and beginning to take shape. My
