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From: Admiral Cartwright <admcartwright@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Good Things Cum (Mg, mf, cons, voy) by Admiral Cartwright
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Date: Sat, 07 Jan 2017 22:10:02 -0500
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'Good Things Cum' (Mg, mf, cons, voy)
a sex story by Admiral Cartwright

~~

The Admiral's first story in over fifteen years is based on some
fact. I'll let you decide where fiction takes over.

No pussies were harmed in the production of this adventure.


~~

"I saw you and John have sex last night."

It took everything I had to not jump out of my skin. Even then,
the adrenaline rush was hard to hide--the ten-year-old girl from
the main house just told me, matter-of-factly, that she had
watched two grown men, me being one of them, having sex.

"Oh, really," I challenged, finally finding my voice somewhere.

"Uh huh."

"And where were you?"

"Up there," she said, pointing to the opening in my ceiling. Not
more than 18" square, it looked like attic access; always dark
beyond, I'd looked up at it many times, wondering if anyone could
see me from the other side. Now, just like that, it all came
together.

A few months before, when my girlfriend and I were still seeing
each other, Joanne came bounding in one night through the
connecting door from the main house back to our converted studio
apartment as Catrina and I lay naked in bed, under the covers,
watching TV. (I was surprised the door was unlocked. In
hindsight, I realized that Catrina was not.) Joanne was nine
then, and sat at the corner of the bed behind my shoulder, almost
out of my view. Only moments later, Catrina reached over and
started stroking my cock, which responded all too quickly. Her
movement, though covered, was as obvious as my developing
erection; I leaned over and whispered into my girlfriend's ear,
"You do know she can see what you're doing." It was more a
statement than a question.

"I know," came the response.

"Can I hold it?" I heard an instant later.

I turned my head to look at Joanne, who had an expression on her
face that I couldn't quite read. When I turned back to Catrina,
her expression was impossible to miss--almost an evil grin. We'd
been together since she was fifteen and legally emancipated. In
my early 20s then, she clearly knew I skewed young; bi-curious
herself, we had tried once to seduce a physically mature
12-year-old girl, who had politely declined. 12 and nine are
miles apart, however, and Catrina could not have been certain how
I was going react to this. I flashed her a look, then grinned
back, shrugged my shoulders, and told my girlfriend, "it's your
toy."

She let go of my now-very-hard cock and leaned back. Joanne
needed no further invitation, almost jumping forward as she slid
her hand under the covers and took hold, a firm grip, but not too
tight. For several seconds, she just held it, then simply let go
and sat back.

And that was it.

Now 10--her birthday, in fact--Joanne was sitting on my bed in
just her nightgown and underwear, not even three feet from where
I sat, fully dressed, slightly shaking my head. "Of course," I
said, looking at the opening in the ceiling as if the dawn was
coming through. "That explains everything. How long have you been
watching me, anyway?"

"A lot."

Another figurative light came on. "You and Catrina had your
little handful all set up that night, didn't you?"

"Yep," she said, now looking down at her hands, as if afraid to
look at me. This was odd given her sudden confession--and I mean
sudden, since the conversation was completely benign to that
point.

Catrina and I had broken up a couple of months before, and I'd
had only a few sex partners since; two young women from my job,
and one man I'd met at some pickup spot nearby. I couldn't resist
asking Joanne if she'd seen me with anyone else, and she said no.
John and I, meantime, had been roommates since a couple of weeks
before, and John--like me, in his mid-20s--was still questioning
his sexuality. I had no doubt of mine; I've been actively
bisexual since age 17. John and I slept in separate beds, but
nudity was common and natural, and John had sort-of come out to
me. We'd talked about it for a few days, and I'd told him to let
me know if he was ready. The night before this
now-very-interesting discussion with Joanne, he was ready. And it
was good.

"What all did you see?" I pressed on. Joanne said she saw
everything. "Everything?"

"Yep."

Time to talk seriously dirty, I thought, grinning. "You saw my
hard cock sliding in and out of John's mouth?"

"Yep." No hesitation, but not exactly talkative.

"You saw John's cock sliding in and out of my mouth?"

"Yeah. And you can deep-throat, too. That's cool."

"Yeah," I answered, eyebrows up, but I didn't want to stray
off-course just yet. "And you saw John's rock-hard cock sliding
all the way in and out of my ass?" I let her have it, the
full-on, grown-up fuck-talk.

"Yeah!"

A little enthusiasm there. Interesting. "Hm. And watching two men
fucking and sucking each others' cocks didn't turn you off?" An
honest question; I was still a bit incredulous.

"Nope."

I lay back on one elbow, just looking at her for a moment.
Finally, she looked at me, a hint of a twinkle in her eyes, a
nervous smile on her lips.

Certainty took me over. "No, of course not," I answered myself.
"You were turned on!"

"Yep," she almost beamed.

Again, I looked up at the ceiling. She wasn't lying about the
view--from her vantage point, she literally could have seen every
inch of two cocks and their naked, writhing owners having a lot
of fun together. Indeed, she must have seen it all--and my
thoughts shifted to her: what she was experiencing; what she was
doing.

"What was your favorite part?" I asked.

"When you squirted your cum up in the air."

Really?! That got my full attention--and my cock's as well.

~~

I seriously could not recall a time that I hadn't cum inside
Catrina's pussy or mouth, so this was perplexing. I asked Joanne
if she'd seen me squirt before, and she had. Turned out I didn't
always have a partner when she watched, and just me jacking off
excited her, too.

"Have you seen anyone else cum?"

"Yeah," she answered, and things got a lot more interesting.
Turned out my little neighbor was quite the voyeur.

Joanne lived with her mother, a single woman in her late 30s
whose boyfriend was there as often as not. Joanne's older brother
was a senior in high school, and tended to keep to himself. It
was her cousin, a 15-year-old girl, who was the inadvertent
mentor. Her aunt, Joanne's mom, was of a very liberal bent when
it came to sex; she knew her niece was active--very active,
actually--and decided that things would be better and safer for
the girl if she had a stable place to fuck. The cousin wasn't
particularly careful about closing her bedroom door, either, and
Joanne would watch. A lot.

One night, Joanne told me, she was almost caught in the act by
her mother; so, instead of peeking in from the hallway, out in
the open, she decided to try hiding in her cousin's closet. From
there, she could finally see the real action, like the girl's
pussy getting seriously pounded by her boyfriend. Several times
Joanne had gotten away with this until she leaned out to get an
even better view, lost her balance, and tumbled from the closet.
The boyfriend was livid and ordered Joanne to get out of the
room; her cousin intervened and asked instead if Joanne liked to
watch. Following an enthusiastic if sheepish yes, the older girl
convinced her boyfriend to let Joanne stay. On several occasions
after that, she was allowed to get an eyeful of cock-sucking,
pussy eating, and full penetration fucking, from up close--as in,
inches away--but with one proviso: she couldn't touch. Anything.
At all. Finally, she was allowed to watch as a load of cum was
shot into her cousin's open mouth; after Joanne tried to lean in
to get a squirt of her own, the boyfriend decided enough was
enough, and that was the end of that.

It was only days later that Joanne discovered the opening in her
closet floor, almost directly above my bed; she'd been watching
me, when she could, ever since.

~~

So Joanne, at all of ten years old and not one day more, wasn't
just horny--she was frustrated! She wanted to do more than just
watch, and more wasn't forthcoming. The idea of a ten-year-old,
sexually frustrated horn-dog was hard to process; the handful of
my hard cock that one night suddenly made all the sense in the
world.

~~

I was quite the voyeur as a teen, and I empathized with my young
friend. It was exciting as hell but also quite frustrating,
watching others having all the fun when the best I could do was
take matters into my own hands. I swear, I've wasted more DNA
than an arson fire in a crime lab. So--what was Joanne getting
out of all of this?

"Do you play with yourself while you're watching?" I asked,
genuinely concerned on top of being horny as fuck.

"Yep."

"Do you make yourself cum?"

She smiled.  "Uh huh!"

"Hm," I said. "I'm surprised I never heard you."

Joanne's expression changed suddenly. "Actually," she blushed,
"I thought you did once."

She's blushing, after all this? Turned out she was seriously
embarrassed by the one time I'd looked right at her when she was
cumming. I saw nothing, I'd heard nothing; apparently, it just
happened to to be at that moment that I wondered yet again
whether someone could see me. I assured her that, no, I never
knew.

Still, this might have explained why she waited so long to open
up--and I had just poured a metaphorical bucket of ice over a
very hot discussion. I had to heat it back up, and fast. "Do you
put your fingers inside your pussy?" Yes, Joanne said. "How many
can you get in?"

"I dunno, three, I think."

My cock was straining against my jeans this whole time, and it
was starting to hurt; but, for the moment anyway, this was about
keeping her turned on. "You know ..." I let that hang a second
with just a hint of an evil grin. "I like to watch, too."

"Really?"

"Yep. Watching people cum is really hot."

"Yeah!"

"Girls, too. When they play with their pussies, and their bodies
start to get all tight and shaky and they get these big smiles on
their faces." That did it; a slight grin, a dreamy look, and
Joanne was back into it. "You know what I'd really like right
now?"

"What?"

"You to make yourself cum. It's my turn to watch."

"Uh--" She hesitated for a moment, eyes wide, as if this was a
direction she hadn't anticipated. Then her face lit up. "Okay!"

Joanne peeled off her underwear as if the thin cotton was the
only thing holding her back. Lying on the bed, she spread her
legs wide, and I drank in my first view of her little, hairless
pussy, slightly red, flushed from our straightforward sex talk.
Her fingers went straight to the spot where her tiny clit was
hiding under its equally underdeveloped hood, and began rubbing
in little circles. I wasn't sure if she'd learned this herself or
if her cousin showed her, but it was working--Joanne screwed her
eyes shut and let out a slight sigh.

I leaned forward to get my best view possible just as she dipped
a finger inside her little hole and brought some moisture--that I
didn't know a ten-year-old girl could produce--back up to the
clitoral area, where she started rubbing with a bit more speed,
sighing almost silently all the while. A few more times she
moistened her clit, and her legs began to twitch. Once more into
the honey pot and back, and her legs clamped together, lifting
her still-tiny butt from off the bed as she rode her orgasm,
little squeaks coming from between her lips. Finally, she plopped
back down, her legs fairly fell apart, and she lay there gasping.

~~

At that point in my life, I hadn't noticed having any attraction
to the prepubescent. Still don't, with the occasional exception.
But, goddamn, that was hot!

~~

Already restrained by blue denim, my cock was seriously hurting
by my leaning forward. When I lay back for some relief, I grunted
an "ow." Joanne, still coming down from her orgasm, asked what
was wrong. When I explained, she said, "so take it out."

"You take it out," I countered, grinning.

She didn't need to hear that a second time. She reached for the
snap of my jeans and nearly tore it apart. No subtle moves, this
one, as she unzipped my fly, reached in, grabbed my cock, and
pulled it out, not at all gently. "Ow," I flinched, prompting a
quick "sorry!" But the end result was the same--my cock,
literally never harder, was out, breathing, and pulsing happily
in her gently stroking hand.

Joanne, who had been leaning over my right leg, moved to a spot
between both legs and sat, knees forward, like a frog. Anyone on
the other end would have had a great view of her little pussy and
asshole, and I instinctively looked over her head toward the
large west window. Nothing. I looked at the opening in the
ceiling. Nothing. Still, I made a mental note to ask her about
that later.

Joanne's face was so close I could feel her breath on the tiny
hairs of my upper thighs and balls. Her first look of my erection
up close, and she was fairly savoring the moment. Moving it up,
down, side-to-side, she continued a slow stroking motion that
she'd no doubt seen dozens of times. With her other hand, she
lifted my balls and moved them about, getting a complete feel for
the aroused male anatomy for the first time. The look on her face
was something I'd never seen before, a mixture of fascination,
joy, thrill of the forbidden, maybe; just a guess. A tiny bit of
pre-cum had escaped the tip, but not her attention, and I nearly
jumped when she leaned forward and licked it off.

"Was that cum?" she asked.

"That's called pre-cum," I offered. "That helps act as a
lubricant when a cock slides in and out of a pussy."

She grinned. "Or a man's butt?"

I grinned back. "Or a woman's butt, too. That's not usually
enough, though, butts usually need extra lubricant."

"Oh, that's what John put on his cock. Okay."

Joanne looked down and saw more pre-cum; this time, she put the
entire head of my cock in her mouth, swirled her tongue a bit,
then let it pop back out. I grunted. "Mm. Feels good. So, you're
sure you've never done that before, huh?"

"Nope." She smiled, as if recognizing the compliment, and took
about half my cock into her mouth.

They say we learn by doing but, well, bullshit. Enough watching
works just fine--and she was a very good watcher. Taking her
sweet time, she slowly bobbed up and down on my very happy cock,
even keeping her tongue involved. Every so often she'd let it pop
from her mouth and giggle at the sound, then use her tongue on my
shaft and balls. She hadn't learned to use the tip of her tongue
in a tickling motion just yet, but so what? She was good, because
she wanted to be good, and I lay there, arm propping up my head,
watching this little girl with a mix of amazement and pure
pleasure, slowly building toward release.

"You gonna cum?"

"Not yet," I answered, "but I'm getting pretty close."

She dove back onto my twitching cock, trying to take it deep, and
came up coughing. She tried again. Same result. She got the tip
past her gullet on the third try, but no more. "How," she asked
between little coughs, "do you do the deep-throat thing?"

"Practice. Some adults--actually, most adults--can't ever do it.
I can when I'm in practice, but I still have to fight down the
urge to choke."

"Oh." She looked back down at my cock as if it were an opponent,
issuing a challenge. But this was the wrong time. I was close to
cumming, and I selfishly wanted her to finish.

A thought hit me. "Can your cousin deep-throat?"

"No. She uses her--oh, yeah! I remember!" Joanne took my cock
into her mouth once again, this time using her hand to stroke the
last bit that she couldn't swallow. After a couple of minutes,
she got the timing down, moving her hand up and down in tandem
with her mouth. I was ready.

"Ohhhh. Joanne, here it comes!"

Tensing and arching, I sent the first squirt into her closed
mouth; she backed away and let her hand do the rest of work,
watching intently as I shot my cum about three feet up, landing
with an audible splat on my belly. It had been a while, and there
was a lot. Squirt, splat. Squirt, splat. Two wide little eyes
drinking it all in, even as the spurts became fewer and less
intense.

My muscles relaxed and my breathing slowed; her hand slowed, not
quite stopping. Clearly, she was pleased with herself--she'd just
made a man cum for the first time--but her smile wasn't a smile,
quite.

"So, what do you think?" I croaked.

"It tastes funny."

"Yeah," I agreed. Cum is an acquired taste, even among most
people who can stomach it, and I told her so. "The more you eat
it, the more you get used to it."

Joanne slurped up what was still oozing out from my cock, and
licked the rest off her hand, as if she expected the taste to
change. "It's kinda like ... like that paste stuff at school, but
... it's saltier."

"You eat paste?" I managed to not chuckle.

"Sometimes."

"Well, you are really, really good at sucking cock, especially
for someone who never did that before. I loved it. Any time you
want my cock in your mouth, it's right here."

"Okay," she giggled, beaming.

It was a weekend day, so Joanne had never bothered to get
dressed; now, it was starting to get dark outside. "When do you
need to go home?"

"It's prob'ly dinner soon."

"Okay, wash up, then," I said.

She got up and headed for the kitchen sink, but the handles were
too far back; she went to the bathroom instead.

On her way out, she gave me the same evil grin she saw from
Catrina that one day. "Next time, you gonna make me cum, too?"

I grinned back. "Bet on it."

~~

Joanne was back the next morning, like she couldn't wait to see
me again. As soon as I'd closed the door, in fact, she jumped up
into my arms and pecked me on the lips, like a young girl would
do.

"I wanna suck your fucking cock!"

Young girl, my ass.

The evil grin washed over my face again, but darker this time.
"Don't be too enthusiastic, or your mother is going to wonder
what the fuck is going on over here," I admonished. She
understood.

"And watch your fucking language." I tried to look serious, but
failed completely; we both cracked up laughing, her into my
shoulder.

One more peck of a kiss, and I let her down. Joanne took my hand,
leading me back to the bed. I'd only just stepped out of the
shower when she knocked on the connecting door, so I was naked,
still damp, the bed wasn't made, and oh-well-fuck-it was my
attitude. In a flash she was back between my legs, sitting
frog-like, fondling and sucking my cock, soft inside her mouth
for the first time. Only briefly, though; I had a pulsing, raging
hard-on in seconds.

Joanne stopped for a moment, long enough to sit up and pull off
her nightgown. No panties today, she was fully naked for my eyes,
a new experience for me. Sure, I'd seen young relatives
shirtless, but never naked. Just enough baby fat to not look
thin, she was well-proportioned, near as I knew. No sign of
breasts yet, still completely boyish from the waist up, her sex
the only thing betraying, well, her sex. The tiny hood of her
tiny clit stuck out, barely but obscenely, as she sat on her
knees long enough to throw the nightgown aside. In a flash, she
was back on my cock, slurping in about four of my six-point-five
inches.

"You taste like soap."

"Sorry," I said honestly. "I just got out of the shower."

"'sokay." She leaned back in, licking my balls like a cat slowly
washing itself, from the underside of each testicle up to the
base of my cock. She then ran her tongue up the slight crease
between my balls and up the sensitive underside of my cock back
to the tip, where she swirled her tongue around a few times and
took my cock back into her mouth.

Joanne's hair was loose today and blocking my view, so I let my
head fall back and closed my eyes. She was hardly an expert
fellatrix at this point in her young life, but what she had
witnessed coupled with a real desire to be good at it was not
going to get any complaints from me. She knew enough to keep
using her tongue while it was in her mouth, and that alone was
amazing.

Joanne let her new little friend pop out with a giggle, took a
breath, and tried to swallow my cock whole, stopping at about
five inches. She choked out a "Fuck!" and tried again, ending as
the last. "Why can't I do that?" she sputtered.

 "Don't try too hard. When you get it, you'll get it. But, " I
said, "it's time to take a break. I want to eat you now."

"Ooh!" she squealed. Once again, she didn't need to hear
something twice and, in a flash, her head was on my pillow, her
legs were splayed as far as they could go, and her face was pure
Cheshire Cat.

I slid my hands under and around her thighs, resting them on her
tummy. Leaning toward her young--oh, so young--pussy, I saw a
droplet of moisture. I breathed in, not sure what to expect, and
got ... well, nothing, really. I'm not sure what I expected, but
there was no obvious aroma. Make no mistake, clean pussy is by
far the best pussy, but there's usually something. Oh, well. I
planted a kiss on her undeveloped pussy lips and began a slow
journey of my tongue's own, from the base of her slit to the
clitoral hood and back, savoring a very slight sweetness. Again
from vag to clit, flicking my tongue ever so slightly as a
flourish. I looked up at Joanne's face and she was watching me
intently, open-mouthed, part-smile, part-awe. It was her first,
no doubt, and she was going to love every moment of it.

I moved my hands up to brush her face;  Joanne closed her eyes
and let her head fall into the pillow. My tongue continued its
gentle trip up and down memory lane--hey, a new memory is still a
memory--as I brought my hands down Joanne's neck, to her
shoulders, down and back up her arms, and to her boyish chest. I
wonder if this will even do anything for her, I thought, as my
fingertips traced circles around her tiny areolae and gently
scraped tiny nipples. Her breath caught, and she sighed.

Well, you learn something new every day.

I gently caressed her ribs and tummy, finally bring my hands to
her little mound. Lifting my head, I could see her clit, still
tiny but definitely aroused, peeking out from under the hood.
Gently, I pulled the surrounding skin up and out, exposing her
little bud even further, and I tickled it with the tip of my
tongue. Joanne stiffened, squealing.

"What was that?!"

I chuckled. "I'm tickling your clit."

"My what?"

That was a surprise--apparently, this part of the anatomy lessons
was skipped. "Your clitoris. Most people just call it a 'clit'.
It's that little bump at the top of your pussy that feels really
good when you rub it."

She still looked confused. "Tickling ... with what?"

My evil smile returned. "Just watch."

Joanne craned her neck, and I pulled back the skin just firmly
enough to expose her clit to her own eyes. The tip of my tongue
made contact in the rapid, up-and-down tickling motion that
drives women--and men--crazy. A tiny "Eep!" was her response,
eyes wide and awe-struck at this new sensation. Soon, she
collapsed back into the pillow and let the warm waves wash over
her in prelude to orgasm. Leg muscles started to twitch
involuntarily; belly muscles joined in. Her butt cheeks clenched.
Her hands moved as if by instinct to the back of my head. This
was gonna be good.

Orgasm slammed into Joanne, who clamped her legs against my ears.
(Ouch.) Her neck muscles pushed her head farther and farther back
into the pillow, so far her shoulder blades came up off the bed.
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyooh!!" she squealed, softly, trying to stifle
the noise as she'd learned to do while watching people not named
Joanne having actual sex. Now, it was her turn, and she rode her
cum hard, bucking, collapsing, bucking again, shuddering,
squeaking, taking it all in.

I eased up with my tongue as her orgasm subsided, once again
licking gently, hoping she would let go of my head long enough
for my tongue to reach the opening to her vagina. Finally she
obliged, and I got my first real taste of her pussy, the liquid
gold that is the result of orgasm. Never had the term "honey pot"
been more apt--she was legitimately sweet-tasting and
sweet-scented.

Oh, yeah. Young pussy. Maybe not this young, usually--but, well,
yeah. I love it.

~~

Aside from ragged breathing that slowly found its normal pattern,
Joanne didn't move for several minutes. She has to be okay, I
reasoned, she's still breathing.

I scooted up the bed and lay down beside her, brushing her cheek.
"Hey. You okay?" Her eyes blinked open, unseeing at first;
finally she looked at me and managed an "Oh. My. GOD!" I had to
stifle a laugh; she sounded like a teenager, window-shopping at
the mall. "That was ... that was ... oh. My. GOD!"

"You gonna live?" I joked.

"I've never cum like that. I've never ever ever cum like that!
Ever ever! Ohmygod! Fuck!"

The no-not-yet joke was tempting, but I bit it back. "Welcome to
the real thing," I offered instead. "Now you know why people love
sex so much with other people. Making yourself cum is good, but
when we make each other cum it's like, a whole new world."

(This was years before the Disney song. Stop laughing.)

"Oh, yeah, you're s'posed to cum, too," she practically sang, and
somehow found the energy to scurry back to where she could sit
between my legs. By this time I was producing pre-cum like crazy,
and she was licking everywhere to get all of it. I took the
opportunity--that was part of the point, after all--to remind her
how to use the tip of tongue to tickle and, oh, did she get it
right. Wow. Electric. My cock jerked in her hand, and she
giggled. Tickle, jerk. Tickle, jerk. Like she'd found a
completely new toy, she kept that up until I got used to it, and
the jerking stopped, and she gave my cock a well-fuck-you-then
look that nearly cracked me up. Once again, she regarded her new
favorite plaything like an adversary.

And there was unfinished business.

With a breath as if she were going underwater, Joanne again tried
to take the whole of my six and one-half inches all the way down
her throat. The result was still the same.

As she came up coughing yet again, I decided to lie, just a
little. Deep-throating was not all that difficult for me, once I
learned how to ignore my gag reflex. Joanne was, let's face it,
still a future woman, and her throat had to be narrower, right?
"You're not going to get it all at once. Nobody does." The lie,
not that she knew it. Would it help? "Take your time with it.
There's no hurry, my cock doesn't have anywhere to go," I joked.
She chuckled. "Let it get just to the point where you want to
cough, and then back off. Go a little deeper when you can, and
then back off. If that works right"--now I was being
honest--"you'll be able to deep-throat."

There was still very much an I-love-you-but-I-hate-you look on
her face as she looked down at my hard-on, but her expression had
softened a bit. My cock hadn't softened at all. Into her mouth it
went once again, a little deeper, a little deeper; I felt her
convulse slightly, and she backed away. One cough escaped her
lips this time. Just past her gullet on the next pass, and she
again coughed but once. Could she really get it all?

Five and one-half inches of cock made it into her mouth when she
tried again. A slight convulsion, but no cough. Again, and all
but the last inch. And again. Joanne wasn't backing off
completely any more; my cock never left her mouth again as she
kept working at it, trying to make that last little bit
disappear. So close, so close--but I was already there, and I
couldn't hold back any more.

"Joanne, I'm gonna cum," I barked, and she pulled back enough to
keep the first couple of inches in her mouth while letting her
hand take over the work. I came, and hard. My hands grabbed the
sheets as I pumped stream after stream of fresh cum into Joanne's
mouth, her lips tight on my shaft. Her other hand started ticking
my balls--a trick she'd learned from her cousin, no doubt--and I
saw stars on my eyelids.

Coming down from an intense orgasm is almost as good as the
orgasm. I was acutely aware of every sensation--every nerve
ending tingling, every hair standing up straight, every heave of
my chest, every sound from my mouth, every little movement up and
down my cock as Joanne gently made love to it. When my eyes
finally came into focus, I saw the junction of lips and penis,
and no cum anywhere--she'd swallowed it all. "Wow," I said,
barely.

Pop. "Was it as good as mine?" she asked sincerely.

I had no idea, but, "it sure felt like it."

Joanne beamed at me, a grin that was all teeth. "I like cumming
with you."

"I like cumming with you, too."

"You wanna fuck me?"

"Uh--" Well, shit, how do I let her down without crashing and
burning, I wondered. "Joanne ..."

"Don't tell me I can't!"

She was serious. She'd heard "you can't" too damned many times, I
figured, and ... and, what? How do I not be just another person
who tells her she can't?

"You can," I improvised, hoping something would come to me. "I
know you can. It's just--it's just that you--" Fuck, come on,
gimme something to work with, here. "Your body"--that's
it!--"your body may not have caught up with your brain yet." She
squinted, not at all sure she was going to like this. "Your
fingers," I continued, "how many, in your pussy?"

"Three?"

Stalling worked; I had it now.  "Okay. Look at your fingers. Even
three of them are a lot smaller than my penis." (I almost said
"cock", but the anatomical reference made sense, so I went wth
it.) "Your mind is ready but your vagina may not be. You'd have
to be able to take two or three of my fingers without any pain to
be sure--"

For all I know, Joanne could actually see the light suddenly
flash on above my head. "Hey, you know what a dildo is?" She did;
both her mom and her cousin had dildos, and neither was as
careful with them as they should have been. "I got an idea," I
continued. "I can buy you a dildo, and--"

"What if my mom finds it?"

A valid question. "I can keep it here." A valid answer.
"Actually, maybe a couple of them. I can get a smaller one so you
can get used to that, and a bigger one so you can get used to
that, and then my cock"--back to the fuck-talk--"would slide
nicely into your beautiful pussy, and no pain." I let that hang
in the air a moment, and asked what she thought of my idea.

A hug and a quick kiss was my answer.

~~

I hadn't yet had the chance to go buy some dildos when we got
together again, on a school night. We weren't sure how long her
mom would let her visit, and there was just one thing I wanted to
try anyway. Gently eating her pussy so as to get her hot but not
too worked up, I slicked my finger with saliva and entered her,
all the way, with no distress. I finger-fucked her slowly to keep
her loose and relaxed, then gently pulled it out, wet a second
finger, and tried slowly to insert both. At the second knuckle
she jumped, clearly in pain. I backed out a bit, but not
completely, until she relaxed again. Back to the first knuckle
and out, and again; I tried going just a bit deeper with each
push, but past the second knuckle was not happening. It was hard
to tell who was the more disappointed.

Just as I slipped my fingers from her little channel and leaned
forward to eat her again, a rap on the door and a stern reminder
that there was homework to do ended our night.

~~

The adult novelty shop was only about a mile away. It was a
familiar place; a sizable video room was used by many men, and
the rare couple or single woman, to cruise for sex. I had a
different reason for being there on this day: perusing the 
"marital aids" for some appropriate tools for a very young
vagina. Hanging near the top of the pegboard was a set of three
vibrators; not dildos, really, these were plain white with slight
grooving along the length of the surface. One looked to be about
four inches long and was narrower than two of my fingers;
perfect. A six-incher and an eight-incher were included, the
largest about the girth of my cock, maybe a bit bigger.

I kept looking for a few more minutes to see if there were any of
similar sizes that more closely resembled penises. There was
none; the set will have to do.

My purchase completed, I went into the video room to see if there
was any action happening; nothing. I'd come straight here from
work and it was dinnertime for most people--especially married
men who would be with their families rather than hunting for
cock.

~~

It was several weeks before Joanne and I got any time alone
together. Her mother's boyfriend was spending a lot more of his
time at the house, and he thought her visits with a single man in
his apartment were way too frequent. Whether he suspected
anything, I had no idea.

I had been living alone for a while; John had moved out. Our
night of sucking and fucking was great, he said, but he decided
that gay sex was not for him. He wanted his own place where he
could entertain girlfriends without embarrassment, and a studio
apartment with another guy just wasn't going to cut it.

Finally, one weekend afternoon, Joanne was left with her cousin
while the rest of the family was out doing something, and she
knocked on my door. I let her in, and she gave me a bear hug, her
ear buried in my belly. I leaned over and hugged back, and we
just stood there for several seconds.  "I missed you," she said
into her shoulder.

 "I missed you, too."

Joanne released me somewhat, pointed her face upward, and
puckered her lips. I leaned down and kissed her, mouth slightly
open, intentionally kissing one lip, then the other. She relaxed
her lips and responded, a more grown-up kiss for the first time.
I led her to the bed and sat myself down so our faces were about
level, and resumed our kissing, hands at the small of her back.
Her hands found the back of my neck, and soon we were kissing
passionately, tongues dueling, lips touching, apart, touching,
smashed together, barely brushing each other, the works. We were
flushed, hot and horny, and my cock was bitching about my jeans
once again.

Joanne's cousin rapped on the door, with exceptionally lousy
timing (Then again, it could have been a lot worse.)  "Joanne,
are you in here?"

I nodded.

 "I'm right here," she answered. I gestured toward the door,
then silently got up from the bed and moved to the dining room
table. Joanne let the older girl in and we exchanged greetings;
the conversation quickly turned to something about going
shopping. Joanne said she'd be right over, and walked to where I
was sitting.

 "I gotta go," she said to me as her cousin walked out, closing
the door behind her.

 "Can I show you something first?"

I got up and walked to one of the kitchen drawers, pulling out
the vibrator set. Joanne's face lit up, then changed to something
closer to confusion.  "Why don't they look like cocks?"

 "They didn't have any like that, small enough to fit in your
little pussy," I nearly apologized.  "Besides, the idea is to
get you ready for the real one, right?" She smiled.

I asked if she wanted me to keep them here; no, she said, she
knew a good hiding place and wanted to be able to practice more
often. She lifted her nightgown and tucked the package into her
underwear; it promptly fell out. We figured out a way to secure
her new little friends, kissed each other open-mouthed, and off
she went.

Into the bathroom I went, and my hand went to work.

~~

Several more weeks went by, during which time the family and I
saw each other only in passing or when I visited them in the main
house. Joanne would smile and wink when no one was looking, and I
would respond with a kissing motion. Her cousin, meantime, was
between boyfriends and took a shine to me, leaving Joanne with a
jealous pout that was almost comical. I liked the older girl,
too, but--well, to let that happen could easily blow up in all
our faces. I played it as if her advances were cute, and nothing
more.

Joanne bounced into my apartment the next Saturday and proudly
announced that she had something to show me. As she lay on the
bed, I could see an odd outline in her underwear; she peeled them
off, and the medium-sized vibrator was, all but the end cap,
inside her little pussy, some five inches deep!

 "See?!" she beamed. I beamed back, sat down on the bed next to
her, took hold of the end cap, and began to slide her substitute
cock slowly in and out of her very real pussy.

Her head hit the pillow as she sighed,  "oh, yeah." I moved up
to where I could reach her little clit with my tongue, and began
a gentle tickle. Joanne tensed immediately as orgasm began,
starting deep in her little channel, both vaginal and clitoral,
like nothing she'd experienced before. She clamped both hands
tight over her mouth, trying to stifle a real scream, with
limited success. Her legs squeezed my head, then let go, then
squeezed again. Her entire body shook and bucked and writhed as
if it had no clue what it was supposed to do, and it was
impossible to maintain contact with her little clit, so I backed
off.

At that instant, there was a loud rapping on my door.

~~

I hesitated for just a moment, then it was as if some instinct
kicked in. I slipped the vibrator carefully from Joanne's vagina,
wrapped it in her underwear, and shoved it under my mattress. I
pointed her toward the dining table as I walked to the connecting
door, opened it, and ...

And, nothing.

For an instant I stood there, stupidly, wondering if had been
imagining things. Then the rapping came again from a few feet to
my right; someone was at the main door.

A face full of acne handed me an envelope, then turned and left
without a word. I opened the envelope and pulled out an eviction
notice.

~~

It wasn't just me. The same notice was served to the main house,
to Joanne's brother; everyone else was out doing something and
would return presently to some awful news.  "You should be with
your family," I almost cried. Joanne was crying.

~~

The next few weeks were a blur; when i wasn't at work, most of my
time was spent apartment-hunting. Joanne's family was only a bit
luckier; they would move in, temporarily, with her mother's
boyfriend in a much smaller house while they searched for
something bigger. They were ready before I was, and invited me
over for a going-away party of sorts. Afterward, I gave the women
hugs while mom's boyfriend and Joanne's brother offered curt
handshakes. The lot of them were gone when I got up the next
morning.

I secured my new place a couple of days later, and began the
process of moving my stuff. Imagine my surprise when I began to
move the bed; an inadvertent gift had been left behind, a
reminder of times simultaneously sexy and not.

~~

The next time I saw Joanne could not have been any more by
accident. There had been significant economic changes over the
previous two-plus years, and I had been let go from a job I'd
held for more than five years. Literally two weeks away from
being homeless, I found work driving an ice cream truck. It was
enough to live on, but just barely.

My  "break", if you can call it that, came when another driver
was let go, and a route in a somewhat nicer neighborhood opened
up. There were several schools along this route, and I quickly
rearranged my schedule to be there for as many final bells as
possible. My commissions were much better, if still not nearly
where I was at my last job. Things actually got worse as the
summer arrived, when school was out and kids were spending more
time with their friends, and less money at my ice cream truck.

Hotter days were better, usually. One such afternoon, a slow trip
around a cul-de-sac had the desired effect: several kids had run
out, cash in hand, for a treat, finding a single spot along the
curb to congregate. Music off, engine off, parking brake on, I
moved to the service window to go to work.

And Joanne was there.

Now 12, she hadn't yet filled out a whole lot, but she was
clearly not the same little girl I knew. We chatted somewhat
benignly as I served her and the rest of the kids and, one
cheerful "see you later!" later, they'd all skipped off.

~~

For the next several days, I'd turned into her street hoping to
see Joanne again, and did not. Times were still tough, and some
days I'd see no kids at all for long stretches of my route.

~~

I worked seven-day weeks for a while, since I really couldn't
afford not to. It paid off when Joanne showed up again the
following Saturday.

We got to do a bit more chatting this time after a couple of
other kids had wandered off, treats in hand. This was the larger
house they'd found, finally, just a few months before, and their
rent squeezed away a lot of unnecessary expenditures, like ice
cream. Joanne told me that things were good, for the most part,
but really boring at times. She couldn't hang with her friends
too often if they were doing things that involved money, and this
was still several years before anyone heard of an "Internet".

To the point, finally: "Can I ride along with you?"

No argument from me, but "if your mother says it's okay."

Joanne ran into the house, and I waited. And waited. Nothing.

I still had a day's work to finish so, figuring the answer was
"no", I started the engine, put 'er in gear, leaned forward to
switch on the music, and heard "WAIT!" Joanne was running toward
me, and I stopped, set the brakes, and opened the door. She had
endured a short lecture, argued back and forth over whether to
wear a sweater, and just made it back out before I could drive
off. Truth be told, I had planned to circle back before leaving
the neighborhood, just in case.

With nowhere to sit, Joanne held on to the pole at the front of
the freezer unit as I continued my run. After helping me serve
some kids on the next street over, Joanne blurted out, "I'm
finally growing boobs!" She puffed out her chest. "See?"

There wasn't much but, yes, those were definitely boobs. I told
her to hold her shirt tight so I could see better, and they were
indeed coming along quite nicely. She started to flash them, but
I stopped her. "We're still in the middle of your neighborhood.
And that's a very see-through windshield," I joked. She laughed,
and on we went, along several streets before the next time we saw
any kids; so, we caught up. Her mom and boyfriend were married
now. Her brother decided to go into the military, and they hadn't
seen him in months, beyond letters and Polaroids. Her cousin was
still living with them, but friends and boyfriends ate up most of
her time. Joanne had mostly books and the TV and a radio, and
that was about it. Once again, she complained that her life was
just bo-o-o-oring.

Finally, some kids stopped us, and Joanne helped me pass out
their ice cream. The kids walked off, and I motioned Joanne
toward the back of the truck. "May I see your boobs?" She
grinned, reached for the hem of her shirt, and pulled up,
revealing her small but nicely rounded tits. The truck was cool
in the back, and her nipples stuck out from otherwise flat
areolae, the puffiness of new growth already gone, not unlike a
grown woman's. I reached out and took one in each hand,
caressing, tickling, savoring. I kissed her, leaning over far
less than I'd had to before, and it was passionate, as if we were
making up for lost time. Still, I never forgot that we were
parked along a residential curb, and suggested we get going. Sure
enough, more kids were just walking up.

~~

I dropped Joanne back off about an hour later, not wanting to
wear out my welcome, and invited her to join me anytime she got
permission to do so. Each time she did, we stayed out just a
little longer.

~~

I chose to go to work on Independence Day, having no idea how
that would pan out, but I needed the money. Nothing. Lots of
people, but nothing--they'd blown all their money on fireworks,
and some parents actually looked angry. I almost turned in my
truck and went home, but I decided to hit Joanne's neighborhood
first. She came outside, with permission, and we hit the rest of
the neighborhood, with nothing to show for it. A change of
scenery was in order.

"Hey, you want to see my shitty little apartment?"

"Sure!" came the enthusiastic answer.

My place was little, alright. Another converted apartment, this
time in a quite sizable house that had been divided into six
studio apartments. Mine was actually the largest of them, with
its own separate access, which was an important detail in my
search from two-odd years before. Everyone else had to use the
main door into a shared hallway; some even had to share a
bathroom. My kitchen was barely wide enough to walk through; the
bathroom was average; the combined living and sleeping area was
neither roomy nor cramped. Basically a motel room, it served its
purpose.

It took about five seconds to show Joanne around, and I ended the
"tour" by turning on the air conditioner. It was hot, I needed a
shower, and I said so. "Do you mind?"

"Can I join you?"

"I wish." The shower was tiny; I only barely fit in there, and I
was a lean guy back then. "But you can jump in after me."

Peeling off my clothes in front of a 12-year-old girl struck me
as funny for a fraction of a second, even though this 12-year-old
had seen me naked who knows how many times, never mind the blow
jobs and pussy eating. My shower was more a rinse than anything,
just long enough to get clean. When I walked out of the bathroom,
toweling off, Joanne was already naked; she smiled, kissed my
shoulder and walked straight toward the still-running water.

As I finished drying off, I suddenly remembered something I'd
been holding onto for more than two years. When she came out of
the bathroom, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding up
her vibrator. "Remember this?"

She squealed slightly, wearing an incredulous smile as she walked
up to me and took her old toy from my hand. "You still have
this?!" I had to bite back a smart-ass response: no, I bought a
new one exactly like it. Instead, I smiled back. Joanne looked at
it, then back at me, and an evil grin I hadn't seen in years was
back in full force. She tossed the vibrator over her shoulder,
pushed me back onto the bed, and lay on top of me,
chest-to-chest, belly-to-belly, groin-to-groin, for the first
time.

Well, sort of. Not quite five feet tall, she needed a gentle tug
to come face-to-face, where we looked at each other with pure
lust. My hands found her ass, still small but well-rounded. Her
eyes found my lips, and her lips quickly followed, kissing me
gently but assuredly, our tongues wasting no time. My hands
caressed her ass, sliding up her back, to her ass, to her upper
thighs, to her ass, our kiss getting more and more passionate, my
cock getting harder and harder. We stopped every so often,
looking into each other's eyes just long enough to catch our
respective breaths, and went right back at it. Her hands found my
face and mine hers, as this small girl cast fully aside the
little girl in favor of the desperately horny woman-to-be. It was
a remarkable sight, a remarkable feeling, a remarkable
experience, and one of the hottest damned kisses I've ever known,
all from a ball of lust that would have made no sense to anyone
who didn't know her history.

~~

When next we took a breather, I rolled us over until she was flat
on her back. I started with her neck, planting gentle kisses as
she sighed her approval. We were both worked up, so I pretty much
set the foreplay to fast-forward and kissed a straight line to
one young breast, taking as much into my hot mouth as I could.
"Eep!" came the response and, for a moment, little Joanne was
back. I suckled for a few seconds, then let go and tickled her
nipple with my tongue. A more womanly moan followed, and I kissed
my way across to her other breast, suckling and tickling, drawing
more breaths and moans. I traced a line with my tongue down her
chest, down her belly, and circled the fair tuft of pubic hair
atop her developing mound. Gently pulling the skin away from her
now-well-developed clit, I was about to dive in when she pushed
me away.

"No," she said, perhaps never more sure of anything in her life.
"I want your cock inside me."

I started to ask if she was ready for full penetration, but the
look in her eyes ... yeah, she was sure. I crawled up and knelt
between her spread legs, rubbing the tip of my cock up and down
her slit, spreading a generous amount of pre-cum into the space
between her still underdeveloped labia. Gently, I pushed forward,
and the head popped right in. In a bit, out a bit, in a bit, now
I was taking my time. Her eyes were locked onto mine locked onto
hers, and a completely new level of joy took over her face as my
six and one-half inches disappeared completely into the hottest,
most perfect silken sleeve I have ever felt, to this day.

~~

I wanted to take my time and savor this new shared experience,
but Joanne was having none of that shit. With her hands on my ass
and her tongue down my throat, she was nearly feral, desperate to
cum around my cock for the first time. I got the point and
pounded into her, my balls slapping against her with each thrust,
as she built, and built, and built. And exploded.

Joanne literally screamed in orgasm; I didn't care, let the dirty
old men in the apartments next door listen in. Joanne's ankles
met, slapping aloud into my lower back, as her legs tried to push
me even deeper where there was no deeper. I fought hard with my
own orgasm, willing it back, because if there was ever a moment
that she could get pregnant, this was it. Clamping my groin
muscles as best I could, I kept pounding Joanne's
no-longer-immature little pussy until finally she collapsed,
spent, wheezing like the old men no doubt holding drinking
glasses up to the walls separating them from my fucking awesome
little lover.

"Did you ... cum?" She croaked. Not yet, I answered. Her eyes
popped open. "Good!"

I have no idea where she suddenly found the strength, but she
rolled us over until I was on my back. Up on her knees, she found
her way to my cock and swallowed it whole. "You did it!" I almost
yelled, eyes wide, as she slid my cock from her throat and
swallowed it again. Once more unto the hilt and she backed away
with an odd expression, licking her lips.

"Is that me?"

"Yep," I smiled. Joanne was tasting herself.

She shrugged her shoulders and dropped her head, engulfing my
cock yet again, and again, and again, with no hesitation, no
gagging, no stopping, every centimeter, every stroke. I was going
to cum, and she was going to make me. I grabbed her hands, trying
not to squeeze too hard, and came, jet after jet, swallowed along
with my jerking cock each time she went deep, this fucking
12-year-old girl taking everything I could give until there was
no more, her head still bobbing, my head now spinning. It was
almost too much.

~~

Or maybe it was too much. My next conscious thought was that
Joanne was lying next to me, one leg bent over my belly; when I
looked over, she was studying my face as if she'd never seen it
before. I pecked her gently on the lips and whispered--only
because my voice was gone--"that was unbelievable. That was," I
practically gushed, "the best cum I've ever had." Joanne smiled.

"You know how long I've waited to get your cock in my throat?"

"Two years?" I half-joked.

"More than that," she half-joked back. "I've been practicing with
a fucking piece of plastic ever since we moved."

There was genuine disgust behind that statement. She went on,
reminding me that there were three vibrators in that package I'd
bought her, and the one currently hugging my carpet was the
middle brother. She still had the bigger one, and had gradually
stretched her pussy and her throat over the next several months,
hoping to see me and my cock again someday.

The unfinished business, finally, was finished--and, I swear, she
was glowing. I know I was.

~~

We got to share each other once more, one agonizing month later.
No unfinished business this time, no rush; we made love. A
28-year-old man and a 12-year-old woman, for all intents and
purposes, made love. Exploring each other's bodies, exploring
each other's erogenous zones, we caressed, tickled, played,
kissed, loved. I'd had the presence of mind to buy some condoms
after our last, animalistic sex, and we took our sweet time,
trying different positions, changing each time she had a gentle
but insistent orgasm. Finally, with her on top, we found our
final climax together, finished together, fell limp together,
slept together.

A sudden jerk from her leg woke me up; Joanne was still sleeping,
dreaming of who knows what. I closed my eyes, then jerked them
back open. Shit, what time is it? I looked at my watch: three
hours since we'd left her house! "Joanne!" I almost yelled. She
jerked awake. "We have to get you home, it's been three hours!"

"Oh, shit!"

We took turns cleaning up with a washcloth and quickly dressed.
Back into my work truck, I drove us quickly but carefully back to
her house, where I dropped her off with no further ceremony.
"Thanks for your help," I acted. "See you next time."

There was no next time.

~~

J

~~

The next morning offered an answer, but not a happy one, when a
familiar face stared back at me from the the local newspaper.
Joanne's stepfather was on the front page, arrested on charges of
forcible rape. Of a child. A family member. An unidentified
family member.

My heart sank. Joanne's cousin was 17 or 18 now, and--and I
caught myself. I wasn't wishing rape on her, certainly. But I
couldn't escape the feeling that Joanne had been the victim. An
even darker thought hit me at that moment: was she my victim
first? I didn't want to believe that. Silently, I started arguing
with myself. Everything was consensual. But she was ten. But she
was even hornier than I was. But she was ten. But we didn't fuck!
Oh, yes, we did. Okay, but we fucked the first time, we made real
love the last time. But she was 12.

But we were good.

~~

So many changes in the years since: new jobs, new homes, new
locations, new families. There's been nothing quite like the
experience I shared with Joanne, though. Over time, I made the
choice to consider this a happy memory. Joanne, if you're out
there somewhere, I hope it's a happy memory for you, too.

Because, dammit, we were good.



~~~~



Like? Dislike? Comments? admcartwright@hotmail.com

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