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Message-ID: <28416asstr$979513804@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Wayne Laredo" <laredow@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} RP: Hope, by Wayne Laredo (Mf, 1st, cons)
Date: Sun, 14 Jan 2001 18:10:04 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

NOTE: This story deals with sex between a 20 year old
man and a 13 year old girl.  If you are offended by
such content, or if it illegal for you to read such
material, don't.

NOTE: This story is copyright 2001 by Wayne Laredo.
Permission is hereby granted for reproduction and
distribution for personal use only.  Do not sell it,
and do not incorporate it into commercial websites
without the author's permission.

NOTE: The author welcomes comments and constructive
criticism.  His email is laredow@hotmail.com.


Hope

by

Wayne Laredo


Sometimes you just can't help yourself.  I swear
I didn't plan it the way it happened, and I like
to think that my resistance was genuine, even if
it failed.  But she had a woman's body, even if
she was only 13, and it was four in the morning.
Any psychologist will tell you that four A.M. is the
cognitive nadir for human beings.  I wasn't thinking
clearly.

And, yes, I was lonely.

My girlfriend and I had broken up a couple of months
before.  I was, maybe pathetically, clinging to a
few shreds of hope, so I hadn't even thought about
starting over.  Kim was 17 and I was 20, and like
most people our age, we had a lot of sex.  (Yes,
good sex.)  I missed the closeness, and the warmth,
and the connection of all that.  Really I did.

And, yes, I was horny.

After high school, I'd decided to take a while
off before college.  High school had bored me, and
while college was a definite, it wasn't something I
was ready to rush to.  I moved away from home at 17
and got a job with an advertising firm, doing HTML
design work.  It was a decent job -- good people, and
I could set my own hours.  Good money, too.  Being a
night owl, I gradually gravitated toward later and
later hours until I was going into the office to
code at five, just as everyone else was leaving.
I'd put in an eight hour day and get home at about
two in the morning.

Anyway, after Kim and I broke up, I fell into a
routine.  I recognize it now as depression.  I was
just going through the motions, doing nothing and
trying to think about nothing.

I'd made friends with the graveyard shift down at the
convenience store on the corner.  Every night at two,
I'd stop by and chat with them, help relieve their
boredom.  In return, they'd let me take a videotape
home with me, as long as I had the tape back by 6:30.
It was a good arrangement.

The night that Hope showed up on my doorstep,
I'd snagged "Angel Heart."  Remember that one?
Mickey Rourke, Lisa Bonet, Robert DeNiro.  It's a
stylish movie, and there's some sexy stuff in it.
Coincidence.  Usually I'd bring home something good
but mindless, like "Ferris Beuller's Day Off."

I'd popped the cassette in my VCR, my cat already
kneading herself a warm spot on the bed next to where
I'd be laying, when I heard an engine outside as a car
pulled next to the curb, laughter, and then the squeal
of tires as the car pulled away.  A few seconds later,
while I was being warned about the FBI kicking my ass
if I made a copy of this tape, there was a hesitant
knock on my door.  The glass barely rattled.

Barefoot, barechested, in my boxers, I padded to the
door, looked out, and frowned.  Hope.

Hope was -- is, actually -- my cousin-in-law.
She's -- lemme get this right -- my uncle's wife's
daughter.  She was 13 at the time; like I said,
I was 20.  Hope is really intelligent, and she
was pretty mature back then.  She read, you know.
Fantasy and science fiction, like me, but she also
genuinely enjoyed real literature, like me.  We'd talk
Shakespeare, Faulkner, Kesey.  We'd flirt.

I liked her.  I still do, though things have changed.

So there she was, all 5'3" and 105 pounds of her.
Straight black hair in a ponytail and beautiful
dark eyes.  Her jeans hugged slim curvy hips; her
white blouse was unbuttoned to the third button,
so that I could see her black bra through the gap as
well as through the blouse.  You have to understand,
though -- I saw all of this, and I even noticed all
of this, but I didn't think about it the way you are,
right now.  She was my cousin and -- I suppose --
my friend.  She was only 13.

She was also drunk.  I could see the look in her eyes,
along with a little embarrassment.  That explained
why she was on my porch -- Hope's mom is a recovering
alcoholic, and she's understandably militant about
drinking.  She's a really nice woman, but there it is.

If Hope went home and got caught, she could forget
about enjoying the upcoming summer vacation.  I opened
the door and smiled at her ironically.

"Hi, Sile."  It's short for Silas, and I can't
help it.  Get over it.  She had the voice of a 20
year old, to match her body.

"C'mon in.  You can stay 'til you sober up."

She slipped past, tip-toeing to give me a kiss on
the cheek.  "Thanks."  I could smell whiskey on her
breath, and I saw the brown stain on her blouse.

I padded after her.  "When you leave, if I'm asleep,
don't forget the mouthwash.  And you can borrow
a shirt, too."  I paused, watching her lever off
her Nikes.  On screen, the movie was starting.
I turned the overhead light off and climbed into bed.

This is where it started.  I didn't have anywhere else
to sit to watch the TV, except some uncomfortable
straight-backed chairs.  But Hope and I had shared
my bed before, without anything even passing through
my mind, so I didn't think about it.  I wasn't even
thinking about it when she peeled her jeans off;
the tape was rolling, my hands were behind my head,
and I could already tell I was going to like the film.

I just smiled down at her when she squeezed in beside
me and pulled the sheet over us.

We talked, quietly, some.  "Angel Heart" is a dark
film, with not a lot of dialogue.  I found out what
led up to her being on my porch.

She'd gone out with some older kids, done some
drinking out on a back road somewhere, and when one
of the guys -- the driver -- tried to get more from
her than she wanted to give, she scratched him on
the face and made him bring her back into the city.
She couldn't go home, of course, and this was all
she could think of.

"So here I am," she said, eyes half-slitted and fixed
on the TV.

"You're too young to drink," I said.  "Hell, I'm too
young to drink, legally."

She nodded, wisps of dark hair brushing against
my shoulder.

"Your mom really would kill you."

"I know."  She sighed.  "Really, Sile, this is only
the second time, and I won't be doing it too much.
I promise.  I'm scared, 'cause of Mom."  She paused.
"Not 'cause she'd ground me, just 'cause I saw the
way she was ... "  She trailed off and I nodded and
we watched the movie.

Neither of us fell asleep, which surprised me.
I keep my alarm set, because I often do zonk out, and
I have to get the tape back to the store before 6:30.
But when that sex scene came on -- if you've seen the
film, you know the one I mean -- we were both awake.

Hope's hips were moving, just barely rotating beneath
the sheets.  Her dark eyes were still slitted, her
lips open slightly.  I could hear her breath and
feel the smooth warm skin of her thigh against mine.
I leaned close to tease her.

"You a little excited, kid?"  On screen, Ephiphany
reached her climax and Hope made a little sound in
her throat.  "What?" I asked.

"God," she said, "I'm so wet."

My stomach clenched and I exhaled.  Embarrassed.
"Mmmm."  That was all I could think to say.

"You wanna feel?"  She turned her face to me, eyes
flashing devilishly.  She purposefully scooted closer,
putting more skin in contact.

I smiled nervously.  "If you were four years older.
You wouldn't even have to ask."

She reached for the remote while I frowned,
stopped the tape, and then clicked the TV off
before a too-bright, too-loud car ad could wake
the neighborhood.  Darkness settled over us, a
streetlight through my curtains the only light.
My cat, not too happy about losing her spot to Hope
in the first place, mraowed her indignation at the
break in our routine.

"I'm asking."  She reached for my hand and I pulled
it away.

"Hope, look."  Shadows fell on her face and moved as
the tree in my front yard swayed in a late spring
breeze.  "You're 13.  I'm 20.  Even in this state,
that's illegal.  You're also my friend, my uncle's
step-daughter.  Finally, you're drunk."

She flipped on her side, facing me, her small
breasts against my arm as she looked up at me.
She was so lovely and so fragile.  All I could read
in her eyes, as black as they were in the dimness,
was reasonableness.  Through her shirt and bra I
could feel her nipple hardening against my arm.
My cock lengthened down the leg of my boxers.

"Sile, look."  I had to smile.  She continued.
"First of all, I'm not drunk.  I was a little drunk
when I got here.  But that was almost two hours ago."
I glanced at the VCR LED.  She was right.  "Second,
nobody's gonna know.  Not my dad, my mom, or the cops.
Do you think I'd get you in trouble?"

I stared at her.  Of course she wouldn't.  "Not on
purpose.  But you'd talk ab -- "

"Oh, gimme a fuckin' break."  She pressed a finger
hard into my ribs.  "I'm a kid, but I'm smart.
Give me some credit."

I lay there for a few minutes, feeling her breath
stirring against my neck, her nipples against my arm.
My cock pulsed, and for the first time, I really
imagined sliding into her small body, her warmth
beneath me, looking into her face.  I know now that
that was when I was lost.  But I kept trying.

I smiled, trying my best to make it fatherly.  "Hope,
it's just wrong, okay?  I'm not comfortable with it."
I laughed, then.  "Christ, what an understatement."
After another second, I moved to free myself and
crawl over her and out of bed.  "I'm going to get
some blankets for the floor.  You can have the b -- "

Her small hand, in the second or two I was straddling
her, slipped into the leg of my boxers and closed
gently around my dick.  She smiled up at me, lopsided,
showing no teeth.  I froze, then groaned, my eyes
closing.  It had been a while since anybody's hand
but my own had been there.

Her breath coming a little faster, she slowly moved
her hand up and down my length, her touch light,
barely moving the skin.  My arms began to tremble,
and before I collapsed on top of her, I fell back
to my previous position.  She lost contact with my
cock for just a moment, but regained it quickly.
"Mmmm," she said, from in her throat.

"Hope ... "  Helpless.  My hips moved by themselves,
pushing my cock through the circle of her fist a
little faster.

While she moved her hand, she shifted to put her lips
at my ear.  Her breath was warm and her voice was
husky.  Lust.  I'd always thought that was a cliche.
"Touch me," she said.  Her hips were moving, too.
"Please?"

The shadows moved again, and I saw the sheet rippling.
I stared at it, and it was another second before I
realized that it was my hand causing the sheet to
move and simultaneously felt the fabric of her blouse
at her lower belly.  My fingers did their thing,
working buttons.  Soon enough I felt bare skin and
I lay my hand flat over it, soft.  Hope's hand was
still skimming over my dick, my hips still jerking
on their own.

The angle was a little awkward.  I wanted to move up,
to feel the flatness of her stomach and eventually
the swells of her smallish breasts.  But I couldn't
reach, and with her tiny hand circling my cock,
my breath catching in my throat, I didn't want to
change position.  So I went down her body, which is
what she wanted in the first place.

Her panties were satin; I could feel the slick
material on the back of my hand as my fingers slipped
beneath the elastic waistband.  Then I could feel the
softness of her pubic hair atop the slight mound.
And, as I just stroked it for a moment, swallowing
thickly and enjoying her hand squeezing and relaxing
and skimming along the length of my cock, I caught
my first smell of her.  I felt my prick lurch in her
grip; the smell was shampoo and teenage-girl perfume
and sex.

"Hope?"

"Shhh."  Into my ear again.  I shivered.  "Touch me."

"You're sure?"  I'd regained some control.  My hips
weren't moving; her small hand still felt amazing,
though -- she was using her thumb on the swollen head,
spreading around the slick pre-cum leaking from it.
I wanted to hear a "yes."  It wouldn't make anything
okay, legally.  Maybe not even morally.  But it would
make me feel better.

She didn't answer with words.  She just took my hand
with her free hand and gently pushed it further into
her panties.

"Okay."  I extended my index finger and searched
for her slit.  When I found it, at first I thought
I'd been wrong about how turned on Hope was.  But as
her hand worked at my cock, I parted her lips with my
finger -- and released a flood of her slick wetness.
She was drenched.  I dragged my finger through her
parted lips, feeling her tiny pussy sucking at my
fingertip.  Her breath caught in her throat as my
finger passed over her clit, a BB drowning in oil.

"God," I said, as lust overwhelmed me.  "God."
She gasped as I pulled my hand free, then grasped her
by the wrist, stopping her motion up and down my dick.
I struggled out of my boxers and tossed them aside,
then straddled her, my knees around her hips.
I stared down at her, and she stared up at me.
Our eyes had acclimated to the dimness, and I could
see her clearly.  She looked both frightened and
almost fainting with lust.  Her lips were parted;
she breathed from her mouth.

I'd intended to ask again, but I didn't need to.
My cock throbbed on her lower stomach, above the
waistband of her low-cut panties.  Hands shaking,
I unbuttoned the remaining buttons of her blouse.
I pushed it over her shoulders, and reached for the
clasp of her bra.  She closed her eyes and arched
her chest toward me as I brushed against her breast.
The clasp came free, and her breasts -- apple-sized,
another cliche -- fell free.  They were beautiful:
perfectly formed, aureolae dark and the size of
quarters, nipples like the tip of my little finger,
erect already.

I bent and took her left nipple in my mouth.
She groaned, her chest coming up again, her hands
going into my hair.  "Oh," she said.  "Oh.  That feels
so ... "  I sucked gently, my left hand covering her
right breast, squeezing it rhythmically.  I tasted
bourbon; this is where she'd splashed whiskey on her
shirt and bra.  I changed positions, moving my lips
to her right nipple, my hand to her left breast,
and lifting my knee from over her.

As I caught her nipple between my lips, running my
tongue around it again and again, I reached my right
hand down again, fingers touching the soft skin of
her belly, fingertip dipping briefly into her navel.
Lower still, as she gasped and moved her hands in my
hair, until I could slip my hand again beneath the
waistband of her satin panties.  Her pussy hair was so
fine, so soft.  I breathed through my nose, loudly,
bent over her as I was, and took more of her breast
into my mouth.  I could feel her nipple at the back
of my tongue as I found her pussy again.

"Unh," she said, fingers tightening in my hair as
I found her tiny clit and slipped my index finger
over it, slowly, twice.  Her smell was literally
intoxicating; I was lightheaded.  Again and again I
passed my finger through the slickness of her pussy,
from hole to clit.  Each time, she groaned; each time,
her stomach muscles jumped.  I alternated kneading
and suckling her breasts until her breathing began
to rasp and hitch in her throat.  I caught her tiny
clit between finger and thumb and gently squeezed it,
feeling it glide from between them, slippery with
her wetness.

"Oh, God," she said.  "Oh, please."  Thirteen years
old.

Her breasts shone in the dim light from the street
as I released them to watch her face as she came.
Her eyes were half open, but she wasn't seeing
anything.  Her hands were still tangled in my hair,
and her breath came in ragged gasps timed with each
roll of her clit between my fingers.  Her black hair
was coming free of its ponytail, wisps spreading over
the pillow as she turned her head slightly from side
to side.  Her blouse and bra were pushed back over
her shoulders.  She was beautiful.

"Uhn," she said, and pushed her pussy hard into my
fingers.  Her hands in my hair became almost painful.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh ... oh!" I watched her stomach
ripple and her eyes flutter, her mouth open in some
wondrous amazement as she came and came hard.  I let
up on her clit, mostly, barely gliding my finger
over it as she shuddered in her orgasm; each time I
touched it, her hips jerked again, but less.

Finally she was still, her eyes closed, her breathing
becoming more regular as the flush faded from her face
and breasts, leaving behind a thin sheen of sweat.

I looked up at her, questioningly.  She smiled her
lopsided smile and pulled me up by my hair into
a kiss.  Her lips were so soft, and again I tasted
bourbon.  Her tongue flickered against my lips,
then my teeth, then my gums.  My cock jumped against
her side.  Her hands left my hair to stroke the back
of my neck as we kissed.

"You're so beautiful, Hope."  I was breathless when
we broke, but managed that.  "So young, though."

She put her finger on my lips.  "Shut up."  She still
smiled.  "I want you inside me."

I stared at her.  Finally I nodded and moved down
her body, until I could hook my fingers beneath the
waistband of her panties.  Everywhere my bobbing dick
touched her skin, it left a spot of stickiness that
shone in the light of the streetlight.  She lifted her
slim white hips for me, and I tugged her panties down
past them.  I watched the juncture of her legs and
closed my eyes -- only for a moment -- when her sparse
black pussy hair, stark contrast to her pale skin,
slowly appeared.  Again her rich smell reached me.

I bent and kissed her flat stomach, and then just
below there, the softness of her hair against my lips.
I inhaled and my head spun.  I pulled her panties off
her feet; she was still wearing pink jogging socks.
She sat up and pulled off her shirt and bra, dropping
them to the floor beside my bed.  Then she lay back.

Again I bent and kissed her -- the tops of her thighs,
her soft black cunt hair, her navel.  "Hope?" I said,
into her stomach.

"Mmmm?"  I could tell, without looking, that her head
was back, her eyes closed.

"Are you a virgin?"  I felt her shift and looked
up into her dark eyes.  A little scared, but glassy
with lust.  She was only thirteen years old.

"Yes," she said.

"Are you sure you want it to be me?"

"Yes," she said.

I nodded and shifted my body half off the bed.
I stroked my hand along her inner thighs until she
spread them for me, and for the first time I looked at
her pussy up close.  It was beautiful.  Her lips were
barely parted and shone with her wetness.  Her pink
clit peeked from its hood.  Her black hair was sparse
and trimmed closely, but damp now with her earlier
orgasm and her continued arousal.

Leaning forward, I brushed her inner thigh with
my lips, and felt the wetness of her pussy barely
touching my cheek.  I repeated the kiss on the other
thigh, then caught the skin there gently between
my teeth.  I trailed a line of kisses toward her
center, pausing to kiss the very top of her thigh,
soft skin and toned muscle on one cheek, soft hair
and wetness on the other.  She groaned and lifted
her pussy toward my face.

I shifted again, placing my face directly between
her legs.  I breathed through my mouth, hot breath.
"Oh ... " she said.  When I kissed her pussy lips,
gently, she jumped.  When I dragged my tongue through
her slit, hooking it against her clit at the top, she
groaned again.  "God ... "  She tasted like lemonade
made with salt and honey.

Every few seconds I repeated the movements of my
tongue and lips: a gentle kiss, a long lick upward,
her tiny pussy trying to capture my tongue, and then
a flutter on her clit.  Her wetness coated my face and
her scent overwhelmed me.  I was groaning against her
and she groaned with me.  I raised my eyes to see her
eyes closed, her hands bunched and knuckles whitening
in my sheets.  She rotated her hips in small, tight,
urgent circles in time with her breath.

"Make me come.  Oh, please make me come," she
whispered.  My cock, trapped beneath me, throbbed
almost uncomfortably, responding to my awareness that
this lovely thirteen year old girl was begging me to
bring her to another orgasm.

Heart pounding, I lifted my shaking hands to her
small breasts, finding the nipples with each thumb
and forefinger.  I fastened my lips tightly to the top
of her wet slit and sucked her clit against my tongue.

"Oh ... !"  Her hips bucked against my mouth and I
lashed her tiny clit with my tongue, nipped it with
my lips, pulled it against my teeth and groaned.
All in time with my gentle squeezing of her nipples.
Again and again she lifted her beautiful young pussy
against my face.  Her breath was coming in harsh
gasps between her teeth.

Suddenly she stiffened.  Her back arched.  "Oh, oh, oh
God ... " she hissed.  If possible, she became wetter.
I swallowed her juices as she came against my lips,
withdrawing to lick her more gently as she convulsed,
her thigh muscles twitching.  Finally I couldn't
keep my lips on her pussy or hands on her breasts
and I contented myself with stroking her calf as she
gasped for air and swallowed thickly, aftershocks
still shivering through her.

"Wow," she breathed.

I climbed back into the bed and between her legs.
She caught her lower lip in her teeth, watching
my cock bob over her damp and matted pubic hair.
I shifted forward, bringing my knees against her
ass, pushing her knees back and to the side, almost
to her chest.  Reaching down between us, supporting
myself on the backs of her thighs and my stiff left
arm, I took my cock in my fingers and ran it up and
down her slit, parting her lips, wetting my cock,
and sliding it against her clit.

Hope said something.  I didn't hear what it was.
Blood was rushing in my ears.  I fitted the swollen
head of my prick into her tiny pussy, the first
half-inch of it being kissed by her wet lips.  I began
to lean forward, barely putting pressure against her.
She spoke again.

"Wait.  Wait, Sile.  Please?"  I shook my head,
clearing it, and looked into her beautiful barely-teen
face.

"Hope, you can't ... " I began, then took a breath.
I didn't back away, though.  "What is it?"

"Shouldn't you be wearing ... ?  You know."

I smiled a little.  "I'll pull out in time.  And I'm
clean, I promise."  Sure, guys say both all the time.
But I knew the second for a fact, and I sincerely
meant the first.

She chewed on her lips for a few seconds.  I reached
down again and stroked her clit.  She closed her eyes
and sighed.  "Okay?"  She nodded.

I leaned forward, slowly.  Her eyes widened at the
pressure as her pussy spread for me.  She gasped when
my cockhead finally slipped inside her and I stopped.
Or almost stopped.  I rocked against her almost
imperceptibly.  I was flexing my cock involuntarily;
it felt so incredible.  I could feel the constriction
of her virgin thirteen year old pussy like a strong
rubber band, oiled and wrapped around my cock.
I reached down between us, and again I stroked
her clit.  She closed her eyes.

I backed away from her a tiny bit, then rocked
forward.  She was so incredibly tight around me;
I think that if she hadn't been so tight, if she'd
been just a little less constricted, I'd have come
inside her immediately.  Again I backed away; again
I rocked forward.  She breathed from her mouth,
lip still in her teeth.  Again back, again forward,
each time I felt the incredible tightness slip further
down my length.  Finally, minutes after I'd started,
I felt my cockhead against her cervix, her pubic bone
against mine, my balls against her ass.

Sweat gathered on my trembling upper arms, in the
hair on my chest, on my back.  She reached around
and touched the small of my back with both hands,
her touch tentative.  I forced myself to take a breath
and looked down into her face.  Her lips were parted,
her eyes glazed.

"Are you ... ?" I began.  "I mean, you're ... ?"

"Oh," she breathed.  "Feels good.  So good."

I was relieved; she'd torn or loosened her hymen
herself, at some point.  On her bike, or at summer
camp, maybe.  I paused, again flexing my dick deep
inside her, watching the sensation register on her
face, feeling the involuntary reciprocal response
of her muscles along my rigid length.  Her wetness
coated our thighs, cool as it dried.

Finally I moved, using my arms to slip my body back
two inches, slowly.  I shoved forward a bit faster,
sheathing myself inside her teenaged cunt again.
My eyes rolled back in my head and I groaned,
counterpoint to her gasp.  Never.  I'd never felt
anything like it.  I pulled back, almost my full
length, and paused only a moment before rocking
forward against her again.  Again I felt the soft
resilience of her cervix against my cockhead.
I flexed against it and looked down to see Hope
smiling dreamily into my face.

"Wow," she said again.

"You feel so good," I told her.  "Like you were made
for me."

Again I pulled my hips away from her, my cock slipping
free an inch at a time, her pussy closing tightly
behind it.  It was amazing -- when I slipped into her,
it felt as if her cunt was eagerly sucking me in; when
I slid out, it felt as if it was gently expelling me.
Her knees were drawn back beside her breasts, and
every time I moved forward I penetrated her fully.
Every time I moved into her I groaned, her breath
caught, and a muscle in the back of her left thigh
twitched.

As her thirteen year old pussy gradually relaxed
around the thickness of my cock, I could hear the soft
wet sounds of our slow movement.  The smell of sex
hung heavy in the air of my small apartment.  Still I
rocked against her; our breathing was speeding up,
and I increased the speed of my thrusts into her tiny
pussy to match it.  She closed her eyes and trailed
her fingernails around the small of my back.

In and out, in and out, in and out.  She was moving
her hips against me now, lifting her pussy slightly
to increase the speed of my strokes.  I could still
feel the restrictiveness of her cunt each time
my cockhead slipped back into her and each time I
bottomed out inside her, like a tight ring at the
entrance to a slick, warm, glove.  I felt my orgasm
begin its approach.  My arms, supporting my weight
above her small body, were feeling the strain.

Hope was gasping now, loudly, with every deep thrust
into her beautiful tight young pussy.  I shifted
slightly, achieving a new angle that sent my cock
sawing against her clit.

"Oh, God," she moaned.  "Feels so good.  Don't stop.
Please don't stop."

I didn't stop; I'd been ready to come since I'd
first slipped my finger against her soft wet cunt.
I sped up, my eyelids fluttering, my head back.
"Ugh," I was saying, over and over. "Ugh, ugh, ugh."

Her apple-sized breasts, lovely and sweaty, were
shifting with the force of my deep thrusts into her.
Her nails at my back were more insistent, stabbing
into me to encourage me to continue fucking her
exactly like I was.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, Gooooood ... " she hissed
and froze, straining up at me as she came around
my cock.  I was close myself, but I slowed, wanting
to draw every possible moment from her orgasm.
Risking collapse, I reached my right hand down between
us again and found her clit with my index finger.
Her eyes snapped open in shock and pleasure, her
mouth worked itself into a soundless grimace, and
her cunt tightened around me almost unbelievably.
I'd been on the brink of jamming myself against
her and coming deep inside her, my promise to her
completely forgotten, but the incredible tightness
of her climaxing teenaged pussy staved off my orgasm.

Her breath hissed in and out between her teeth as
she came and came and came.  I stroked into her --
small, short strokes -- and flexed inside her at the
deepest, keeping it going as long as I possibly could.
She came for at least a full minute, her stomach and
thigh muscles jumping as if electrified.

Hope's breathing finally slowed, though she continued
to gasp and shiver every several seconds.  I was still
deep inside her and still painfully hard.  But there
was no way I could support myself in this position
for much longer.  Hope's legs gradually unfolded
and came down; she closed her eyes and shuddered
when the position change forced my cock an inch or
so out of her pussy.  Her hands moved up my back
and the touch of her fingers became gentle again.
I looked into her face; her eyes shone.

"Is it always like that?" she asked.

"No," I admitted, and dipped my head to give her a
soft kiss on the nose, and then on the lips.  My cock
bucked inside her when she playfully slipped her
tongue against my lips.  "But that's what you try
for every time."

Her eyes were wide; she'd felt the movement in
her pussy.  "You didn't come?"  I shook my head.
"Do you want to?"

I dipped again to kiss her eyebrows, her cheekbones,
her chin.  "Yes; I think if I don't, I might go
nuts.  But I can't do it like this." With that, I
gently pulled out of her; again I felt that amazing
sensation: her cunt was lovingly pushing me out of
her.  I watched her face; her eyes fluttered closed
and back open.  I leaned down to press my lips against
her sweaty stomach, then curled up against her.
My cock was pulsing against her leg.

"How?" she asked.

"We'll think of something."  I trailed my fingers
over her slim body, noting the very few places where
she hadn't filled out into full womanhood yet: her
hips would widen slightly, and her face would thin a
tiny bit.  She was beautiful already.  As an adult,
she was going to be nothing less than spectacular.

My fingers found her breasts again; as she turned
away from me to press backward against me, I
spooned her and cupped her right breast, tweaking
the nipple.  I brushed my lips against the back of
her neck, inhaling the scent of the incredibly soft
wisps of hair that hadn't been gatherable into her
ponytail.  The ponytail itself was now in disarray.
Hope shivered as I kissed her there.  She pressed
herself back harder against me, and my cock slipped
between her legs.  I continued to play with her
breast, hefting its weight, feeling its firmness.
I continued to kiss her neck and shoulders.  I wanted
her wet again.

Abandoning her breast, I let my fingers wander
downward, past her damp belly, into the wetness
of her bush.  She shifted her legs with an "Mmmm,"
giving me access.  A single touch was enough; she
was wet.  My dick was between her upper thighs.
After giving her clit a loving stroke, fingers oily
with the wetness from her slit, I reached back to my
cock and pushed the head into her cunt.  It popped
in with delicious ease, and as she gasped my hips
moved forward involuntarily, driving my cock deeper,
half of its length buried inside her.

"How does that feel?" I whispered against her neck.

"Even better.  It feels even better, I think."
She was almost overwhelmed.  I knew the feeling.

Shifting for a better angle, I slid my hips back on
the sheets, then forward, fast and hard.  Immediately
I slid into her fully.  I could feel her ass spreading
against my thighs, and I could feel the tremors deep
inside her pussy.

I was more than ready to come.  I quickly set up a
fast rhythm, shafting into her thirteen year old cunt
from behind, again and again and again.  My hand was
still on her pussy from the front.  As I stroked,
I reached down and back to touch my cock where it
slid inside her over and over.  It felt so huge;
her lips were stretched around it.  She was so tiny.

"Unh," I said.  "Feels ... yes.  Oh, yes."  Harder
and harder, deeper and deeper I shoved into her,
feeling her wetness soaking my balls and trickling
onto my thigh.  Without thinking, I removed my hand
from her pussy and rolled her onto her stomach.
I rolled with her, barely even losing any rhythm.
Her breath caught in her throat and she brought her
hands up close to her face.  She lay on her stomach,
face turned to the side, eyes closed, mouth open as I
pushed into her from behind and above, over and over
again.  I dropped to my elbows above her, no longer
even capable of thinking of anything but her warm
wet pussy around my cock and her soft ass spreading
against my thighs every time I shoved hard into her.
My legs were outside hers, our skin pressed together
along their length, as I rolled my hips again and
again, slipping my cock into her from behind.

Her orgasm took her by surprise, perhaps because
she was barely able to move.  She groaned it out
beneath me.  Again her teenaged cunt tightened
unbelievably around my cock, but nothing was going
to stop me this time.

Four, five, six more thrusts as she gasped and groaned
in the grip of her hard climax beneath me.  Seven,
eight, and I could feel my cum rising, rushing toward
my cock.  I gritted my teeth and strained against it,
knowing I'd fail, but knowing the effort would make
it better.  Nine, ten, eleven, twelve ... I jammed
myself into her as deeply as I could, and then jerked
forward once, then again, spasmodically, until I felt
my cockhead against the entrance to her tiny womb.
And then I came, groaning something incoherent,
feeling semen pulse through my cock.  Even feeling
the tiny slit in my cockhead widen to release it,
jetting it against Hope's cervix.  Three, four times I
felt the spurts come, groaning with each one, and then
two, three more contractions sent the dregs into her
milking, still fluttering, pussy.  My cock twitched
inside her, on its own, each one coming further and
further apart.  Finally it was still.

I shuddered and gasped, dropping my head gently
to hers.  "Oh, God, Hope."  She didn't say anything
immediately, exhausted beneath me.  I kissed her hair,
and then pulled out of her, leaving a trail of our
mixed juices on her ass cheeks.  My cock was finally
softening, but grudgingly.  Again I curled up beside
her, watching her face as our breathing very gradually
returned to normal.

What was I feeling?  I didn't know if it was real
or just a cocktail of my pleasure and hormones,
but at that second, in that place, I wanted to tell
her that I loved her.  I didn't, of course; she was
13, I was 20.  But I looked at her eyes, closed,
the lashes laying dark against her flushed skin.
I looked at her soft lips, parted, breath coming past
them to caress my face.  I looked at her black hair,
laying in strands across her forehead, her ponytail
a lost cause.  And I wanted to say it to her.

Her eyes fluttered open.  "You came inside me."
It wasn't accusatory, and it wasn't a question.
She was simply reminding me.  As if I weren't aware.

I nodded.  "I'm sorry.  I wasn't ... I wasn't thinking
very clearly." I smiled apologetically.

She smiled her lopsided smile, ironic but tinged
with sleepiness.  "Me, either."

I pushed closer to her and kissed her cheekbone,
her nose and her ear.  "When was your last period?"

She thought about it for a few seconds.  "It's due
soon.  Tomorrow, maybe."

I exhaled.  "Well, we should be safe, then."  I ran my
hand down her slender body, watching it move up and
down her curves like the cars on a roller-coaster.
"You let me know when you get it."

She nodded and closed her eyes again.  She looked
heart-breakingly young.  I just watched her for almost
fifteen minutes.  I thought she'd fallen asleep,
but she spoke again.

"I want to do it some more," she said, voice muffled
by her face half against the sheets.

I smiled and propped my head up on my elbow.  "Now?
You're barely awake."

"Not now."  She yawned, showing rows of perfect
Crest-kid teeth.  "Tomorrow.  And the day after.
And next week.  And next year."

I shivered and didn't answer.  She waited, then opened
her eyes to slits.  My cat, long and cruelly ignored,
chose that moment to leap back onto the bed and mraow.
I reached for her, pulling my hand through her soft
silver fur.

"We'll see," I said finally.  Hope closed her eyes
again, and a few moments later she was asleep.
I glanced at the clock.  5:50.  I closed my own eyes
but didn't sleep; at 6:15 I reached and shut down
my alarm.  Finding the remote, I set "Angel Heart"
to rewinding.  I rose, careful not to shake Hope
awake, pulled on some clothes and my Birkenstocks,
and stared out the window into the pre-dawn until
the VCR clacked and spat out the cassette.

I returned the movie and while I was at the store,
I made a call.  My uncle owned the pro-shop at a golf
course; he'd be 10 minutes from leaving his house.

"Will, hi, it's Silas.  Good.  I'm doing good.
Listen, Hope's at my place.  I didn't want you to
-- yeah.  She's asleep.  No, she's fine.  She just
got a little drunk last night.  Yeah, she didn't
want Jenny to see her.  No, she's fine.  She wasn't
even really all that drunk; just spilled some whiskey
on her shirt.  Around 2:30, I guess.  Yeah.  Oh, we
just watched a movie and talked, you know.  Right.
Yeah.  I'll give her a ride home when she wakes up.
Okay, cool.  Take care, Will.  Seeya."

I walked slowly back home, stripped off my clothes,
and crawled into bed with my thirteen year old
cousin-in-law.

Epilogue:

That was almost five years ago.  I just turned 25,
and Hope is almost 18.  We've been together since
that night, and I did end up telling her that I was in
love with her.  She said it back without hesitation,
without any irony in her smile.

Next week is Hope's birthday.  The week after that,
we're planning on "starting dating."  It's been hard
keeping it a secret; not as hard as you might think,
but still.  In a couple of weeks, we won't have to.

_________________________________________________________________
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