Perverts 'R' Us

100% Girl

By Fever ( M/g, cons, 1st, oral )

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My name is Billy. I'm a 22-year-old pedophile living in a town just like yours or any other small American town. I don't think you'll be too shocked, though. If you're reading this, or you've read my stories "Sticky Buns" or "Princess Hannah", chances are you're either a pedophile yourself or at least you've had some pretty hot and heavy fantasies about little girls. It's really nothing to be ashamed of.

Although I have a pretty good job, I'm still pretty fresh out of college, and I've got a lot of bills to pay. In high school, I used to do yard work, house-painting, and the occasional odd job for some of the wealthier families in my town. I still do a few jobs now and then to make some extra cash.

This story takes place one day in April when I was painting a fence for a young, but very well-off couple that I'd known for a number of years mostly because the wife, Angela Duke, lived near my house as a teenager and had babysat me often.. Now she was grown-up and she, and her husband, had a 9-year-old daughter named Emily, who was as cute as hell, but unfortunately I'd never had any opportunity to even attempt to get into her pants. Not that her parents suspected me, the chance just never presented itself, despite the fact that I'd spent a lot of time in the girl's company. I had just never been alone with her. That is, until this one particular day.

As I was painting, I happened to glance down the driveway, and I saw little Emily walking up the asphalt path towards her house. I knew something was amiss because neither parent was home, and on every weekday except Friday, Emily was supposed to go over to a neighbor's house where a woman babysat her until around 7:00 pm. It was only 4:30 now. Emily was wearing denim jeans, sneakers, and a collared shirt like a rugby shirt. She also had a backwards baseball cap on over her short, dark brown hair that she wore in a bobbed style. Emily fit the definition of a tomboy perfectly and I felt my cock stiffen. I've always had a thing for tomboys for some reason, and she was no exception.

I also realized that, if I'd ever had a chance with Emily, this might be it. The house was on a hill, surrounded by trees all around the property, so I didn't feel nervous about anyone watching as I approached her. "Hi Emily," I said, waving. She knew me well enough that I didn't count as a stranger, but she had an expression on her face as if she was upset that I was here. As I looked, I realized Emily had been crying, and now she was embarrassed that I had seen her tears. She wiped hastily at her face. "What's wrong, kiddo?" I asked. It was what I usually called her and often it made her smile.

"Nothing," she said with a sniffle. My heart ached to see her so unhappy.

"I can tell you've been crying," I said, "but it's nothing to be ashamed of. Why don't we go inside and you can wash your face and tell me what's wrong, OK?"

I extended my hand down to her and Emily took it. We talked together up the rest of the driveway to the house. The key was under the welcome mat, which I lifted up and then extracted the key. I opened the door and waited as Emily walked inside. She went to the bathroom, washed her face in the sink, and then came back out again. I was in the kitchen, getting a glass of water, which I offered to the little girl once she came back out again. I was horny for her, yes, but I was even more concerned about her emotionally. I genuinely love little girls. My sexual attraction to them is merely a symptom of my love for them, not the other way around. I am sexual, but not a predator.

"This will make you feel better," I said as she drank the water. Once she set down the glass, I asked, "So what happened? Why are you crying?"

"Danielle called me a lezzie," she said. "She said that because I acted like a boy it meant I liked other girls and that I was a lezzie." Emily went on to tell me the rest of the story but I could tell the gist of it just from her opening sentence. Danielle, was the daughter of the woman who babysat Emily and was the same age as her. Unlike Emily, Danielle was a prissy, snobby girly-girl and I wasn't at all surprised to hear that she'd made such taunts against my little buddy. Emily had cried and that had only made it worse so Emily had run home.

Just then, the phone rang, and I moved to answer it. "Duke residence," I said. It was Danielle's mother, Mrs. Fischer. After explaining to her who I was, and why I was in the house, I repeated the story that Emily had told me and offered to stay here and watch Emily until her parents got home. Mrs. Fischer knew me, but was a little reluctant. I offered to call Maggie or Walt Duke and ask them, but Mrs. Fischer said that wasn't necessary. I think, in her heart, Mrs. Fischer was embarrassed by the way her daughter had behaved and didn't want her friends to know she had a child capable of such cruelty. After promising to call her if anything went wrong, I said goodbye, and hung up the phone.

"I don't have to go back over there, do I?" Emily asked anxiously.

"No," I told her. "I will stay here with you until your parents get home. How does that sound, kiddo?"

Finally, Emily smiled and said, "That sounds fun. Do you want to see the foul ball I caught at a _____'s game last year?" I had seen the foul ball already, last summer after Emily had first gotten it (technically, her uncle had been the one to catch it) but I agreed anyway. I followed Emily, who led me by the hand, into her bedroom which definitely looked more like the bedroom of a 9-year-old boy than a 9-year-old girl, decorated with posters of athletes and cluttered with airplanes and action figures instead of dolls or horses.

A while later, I sat on Emily's small bed and watched her squat on the floor, playing with her toys. My dick was now rock hard and I couldn't take it any longer. I had to make my move and Danielle, the little brat, had actually given me an idea how. "Emily," I said, "do you know what a 'lezzie' really is?"

"Lesbian," she replied. I asked her if she knew what that meant. "A girl who is in love with another girl. Or a girl who likes to do sex things with other girls."

"That's right," I said. "Most girls like to do sex things with boys. Have you ever done a sex thing with a boy before?" Emily shook her head without looking at me. "Would you like to try it?" I asked her, trying to sound nonchalant. Emily just shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe we could do sex things together," I suggested. That got her attention. She put down her toys, stood up, and turned to face me with her hands on her hips, looking somewhat defiant.

"Why do you want to do that with me?" she asked.

"Because I think you're a very pretty girl," I said. "I think you're about a million times prettier than Danielle is. Besides, it's a perfect way to prove you aren't a lezzie. Why would a lezzie want to have sex with a boy? But it would have to be our secret. You could never tell anyone, not your parents, not any of your friends. Nobody. You understand?" She nodded. "So . . . do you want to try it?"

Emily considered it for a moment, then a mischievous smile split her face, and she nodded. I grinned and excitedly patted the mattress next to me, inviting her to come up and sit beside me. Emily climbed on to the bed and lay beside me with her head on my shoulder. I plucked the cap off her head and placed it on the night table, then kissed her hair. I kissed her forehead, then her temple, then her cheek, and then I let my lips hover over hers. Emily raised her head slightly and kissed my lips. It's just what I had hoped she was going to do.

"That was really nice," I said. "You're a good kisser, kiddo. Now let's do some more of that and, while we do it, I'm going to put my hand up your shirt. You don't have any boobies yet but, when you do, guys are going to want to touch them whenever you do sex stuff."

Emily nodded and then we kissed again. She was a good kisser, that had been true, but she kissed like a child, with her lips pressed together. I kissed her back more deeply, holding my lips against hers, pinching her bottom lip ever so slightly between mine, then drawing in a short breath of air, and kissing again. By doing this, Emily began to pick up on my rhythms and began to kiss more deeply. I didn't slip her the tongue but mainly that was because French kissing never appealed to me much. I find it sloppy and generally un-arousing. I much prefer deep, sensual kissing like the kind I was teaching Emily and she was fast learning.

While we kissed, my hand crept under her shirt and began to explore her marvelously flat chest. While some guys get off on how big a girl's tits are, I get off on how small they are. If they're totally non-existent except for a pair of dime-sized nipples, so much the better. I stroked her belly and her chest with the palm of my hand, pausing occasionally at one nipple or the other to gently pinch it. I'm sure Emily couldn't feel stimulated physically, the way she would when she got older, but she could sense that I was doing something she was supposed to enjoy and that was enough for her mind to trick her body into enjoying the sensation. The fact that I was so obviously enjoying touching them also contributed. There is no greater turn-on in this world than being made to feel sexy, which was what I was doing to Emily.

I broke our kiss long enough for me to pull Emily's shirt up over her head. She didn't protest but, once the shirt was off, she crossed her arms across her chest to hide her breasts from me, even though there nothing yet to hide. "You don't need to be shy, honey," I told her as I gently took her wrists and pulled her arms away. "I think they're very beautiful. I think Danielle Fischer would be very jealous if she saw how beautiful you are without your shirt on." Emily smiled slightly, as if she was laughing silently at some joke I didn't get, then she eased her hands at her sides. "Come and sit on my lap," I instructed.

While I scooted back to lean against the headboard of Emily's bed, I removed my own shirt, and dropped it on the floor. Emily, now topless, climbed into my lap and turned her head around to face me. I kiss her again and we were soon locked together at the mouth while my hands roamed freely across her bare, smooth chest. Emily's butt was right over my cock and I'm sure she could feel it pressing against her. She didn't complain, though. I'm sure she sensed what it meant on a subconscious level and knew it was a kind of approval from me. It was wonderful to feel her bare skin of her back against the bare skin of my chest, to feel her tiny lips against my mouth, and to feel her heart beating rapidly beneath my hands as I fondled her.

After a little while, I broke the kiss, and slowly dragged my hands down over Emily's stomach to the waist of her jean shorts. I undid the button and slowly unzipped her fly. Emily watched my hands with rapt fascination. I pulled the two flaps of her fly apart, exposing a pair of yellow, cotton panties with the word "Cutie" written on them in pink letters. "Aww," I said. "It says 'cutie' for the cutie." I kissed Emily on the cheek and she giggled, but didn't remove her eyes from my hands. I pulled the shorts down over her smooth, skinny thighs past her knobby knees and down her shins until Emily was wearing nothing but the "Cutie" panties and white socks. Now it was my turn. I removed my pants, telling Emily to lift her bottom up a little so I could get them off. Now we were both in nothing but underwear. Once Emily sat back down on my lap, I realized that there was nothing but two, thin layers of cotton separating my cock from the sweet, twin globes of her tiny ass.

"Do you feel that thing pushing against your bottom?" I asked. "That's my penis. Do you know what that is?"

"Boys use it to go pee," she said.

"That's right, kiddo," I told her, "but it's for other things too. When a girl touches it, it feels really good. You know what a vagina is, right?"

"That's what girls have," said Emily. "Babies come out of it."

"Right again," I said, "but it feels really good when a boy touches a girl's vagina, too. That's what the difference is between a lezzie and a regular girl. Lezzies only like it if other girls touch their vaginas."

"It will feel good if you touch it," she said. "I'm not a lezzie."

"Then let's give it a try," I said. With my right hand, I reached down and began to stroke her little pussy over the fabric of her panties. When I first touched her, Emily's legs had reflexively closed around my hand to protect herself but, after a moment of feeling my fingers against her vagina, she relaxed and allowed her legs to part. I ran my middle finger up and down the slit of her immature pussy to get her used to the feeling, and then I deftly slipped my fingers into her panties and resumed what I had been doing. Emily had been squirming at my touch before but now she was practically writhing in pleasure. Her pussy was as soft and smooth as a newborn baby, without a hint of hair and just a hint of wetness.

But that wasn't the best part. The best part was that, as she wriggled and twisted in my lap, her adorable butt was rubbing up and down against my cock. It felt so good that I knew I needed to try it, skin-to-skin. I pulled Emily's panties down to her knees with my free hand, then unbuttoned the fly of my boxer shorts, never ceasing in my fingering of her bald, baby pussy that felt so nice. Once my cock was out of my boxers, I lay it flat against my pubic hair with the sensitive under-side facing up. It fit neatly into the groove of Emily's butt crack and she involuntarily stroked it as her tiny butt moved back and forth. The skin was so delightfully smooth and silky that I was reminded of Hannah, the little 7-year-old I had butt-fucked a few weeks ago.

"Does that feel good, honey?" I asked her. She moaned an affirmation. "It feels really good for me, too, but I know something that will feel even better."

"Don't stop," she said. "This feels so nice."

"I promise this will feel even nicer," I said. I picked her up in my arms and lay her down on the bed as I stood over her, cock sticking straight out of my boxer shorts. Emily looked at it with awe and amazement. I flicked the tip and made a "Boing!" sound as it bounced up and down. Emily threw her hands over her mouth and giggled. I smiled and moved towards her feet. I pulled her panties off and tossed them aside, then removed her socks. For some reason, I wanted Emily totally naked, not even in socks.

As I looked down at Emily's small, nude body, I noticed something that I hadn't noticed before - just how feminine this kid really was. She might be a tomboy on the outside, but underneath she was 100% girl.

I told Emily to lie on her back with her head on the pillow, then to grab the backs of her knees and pull her legs towards her. I love to see a child in this position. I don't know what it's called by most people, but I call it the "Please fuck me, mister" position. Something about seeing a little girl child in that position just drives me totally wild, perhaps because it makes them seem so eager. But I wasn't going to fuck Emily. Not yet anyway. Instead, I pulled my boxers down to my ankles, stepped out of them, and then climbed back on to the bed. I moved my face closer to her kiddy pussy and breathed in deeply, enjoying the heavenly, intoxicating scent of an unspoiled baby girl.

Emily got what she'd been promised. The instant my tongue touched her pussy, she made a noise so much like a scream that I was momentarily terrified that I'd gone too far. But the scream sound was followed by a rapturous sigh and I realized that Emily had loved it. I licked up and down her slit and all around the orifice. The great thing about having oral sex with a child is that they don't have any pubic hair to get caught on your tongue so even the skin around the labia feels as smooth and nice, even if it just tastes like skin rather than the sweet nectar taste of pussy. I licked her pussy, then all the way up to her belly button, and back down again. I paused to kiss and lick the backs of her thighs before, once more, burying my face in her delicious juices. Time seemed to slow down.

I wasn't aware of anything except the smoothness against my tongue, the exquisite taste of a child's honey, and the sound of Emily moaning, "Oh . . . oh . . . oh . . ." broken only occasionally by "that feels so nice . . ." or my name. Soon, I had pushed Emily up so that her butt was in the air, and most of her weight was resting on her shoulders and the back of her neck. This gave me access to lick her delightful butthole as well. Unlike Hannah, however, Emily didn't seem to take any special pleasure in having her "bottom hole" (as Hannah called it) licked or touched so I focused mainly on her vagina.

When I was done, when my tongue began to feel cramped and I was starting to feel light-headed, I gently lowered Emily down to her back. She lay there with her feet planed on the bed, knees up, legs spread as if to say she wanted more. But now it was my turn. I needed to get my dick inside Emily badly. I should point out that I don't have intercourse with every girl I "molest". In fact, I do it with very few. Mostly, it's just oral sex and some fingering.

In the case of Hannah, who loved "bottom games", it was a bit different but, then again, even the anus of a young girl is designed to stretch. The vagina is another story. Still, I knew Emily was tough. Once, when I was at the Dukes' house, I'd seen Emily run, fall flat on her face on the stone walkway, and chip a tooth. She hadn't cried or whined. She'd simply walked into the house, up to her father, and said, "I need to go to a dentist." She wasn't immune from emotional pain, as I'd plainly seen earlier today, but she could handle physical pain like a professional boxer.

"Emily, I want to do something else now. I want to put my penis inside your vagina," I said. Emily's eyes widened in alarm, but not disgust, which was a good thing. You can calm a person down if they're scared. It's nearly impossible to convince someone to not be disgusted by something. "It will hurt at first. It will probably bleed some too, but I need you to be very brave and very strong for me. If you can take the pain for just a few minutes, I promise it will stop hurting, and you will feel very, very nice."

"Bleed?" she asked. I could tell she was still a little frightened by the prospect of it. I wouldn't force Emily to have intercourse with me, but I was going to try my best to convince her.

"It's natural," I explained. "All girls do it the first time. It's nothing to be scared of. But I'll make you a promise. If you say it hurts too much, I will stop, but don't say it hurts too much unless it really, really does. Alright, kiddo?"

Finally, Emily nodded her head, although I could tell that she was still a little apprehensive. I went over to my shorts, which still lay on the floor, and removed a small tube of personal lubricant that I had taken from the Dukes' bathroom before Emily and I went downstairs. I squirted some out and distributed it over my cock and even rubbed a little on Emily's pussy, which caused her to shiver.

Then, I rose to my knees and moved towards her. I grabbed her ankles and pulled her butt up and towards me until the head of my cock was pointed directly at her tiny slit. I pushed it in slowly, gently, watching Emily's face for signs of pain. She winced as the head moved past the labia, but nodded for me to keep going. I soon began to push against the wall of her hymen. Emily grimaced and closed her eyes. I continued to push. "Ow ow ow . . ." she said. A tear squeezed out from her left eye.

"You're doing great," I told her. "You're being very brave and very strong, just like I asked. It will just be a little longer. You can do it, sweetie." At last, I broke through the hymen, and Emily cried out in pain, but didn't ask me to stop. I continued to push until my cock was buried to the hilt inside her body. After a moment, I noticed Emily relax. She opened her eyes and looked up at me. "Is it OK?" I asked.

"Hurts a little," she said. "Not as much as before, though."

"That's good," I said. "Now just hang on because it's about to feel really, really good in a minute."

With that, I began pumping my erect cock in and out of my 9-year-old friend's pussy. It was as delectably tight and hot as I had hoped. At first, Emily was still somewhat rigid, but her body soon relaxed. For a moment, she just watched, fascinated. Then a little moan escaped her lips, followed by another. I encouraged her to keep moaning like that. I told her to let it all out. Soon, Emily was moaning and sighing more than she had even when I was tongue-fucking her. Meanwhile, I was in Heaven, as I listened to the sounds of my balls slapping against her bottom and the noises of pleasure she made. I wanted this feeling to last forever, but I was so horny that I knew it couldn't last much longer.

"Mmm . . . Emily . . . that feels so nice . . . you're such a good girl, Emily . . . such a good, brave girl . . . mmmm you're so sweet and tight . . . such a sweet, little baby girl . . . such a good, little baby . . . ohh, God . . . Emily . . . I love your tiny pussy so much . . . you're a pretty, little cutie, aren't you, baby . . . so pretty and so good and so tight . . . mmmm oh Emily . . . my sweet girl-baby . . ."

And on and on like that. Emily didn't seem to understand what I was saying. I don't even think she realized I was talking. I could feel my orgasm coming. "Emily," I said in a more direct voice to get her attention, "I'm about to pull out my penis and then some white stuff is going to come out. Don't be worried, though. It's love juice. A boy makes it when he really likes a girl. Here it comes, watch me cum for you, Emily . . . oh shit . . . Emily . . ."

I pulled my cock out and jerked it furiously with my right hand while I held up Emily's right leg with my left (her left foot was propped against my shoulder.) A moment later, I felt my balls emptying, as an enormous load of sticky, white semen shot out from my cock and across Emily's body, high enough that it splattered her chin. I continued jerking until every drop had been drained from my aching sack. When I looked down, Emily was practically covered from navel to neck with semen. She looked more surprised than anything and I laughed.

"You made a lot of love juice," she said.

"That's because I love you a lot," I told her.

There wasn't a towel handy, so I picked up my boxer shorts, and used them to sop up the cum that covered Emily's stomach and chest. Once she was clean enough that she wouldn't drip all over the floor, I picked Emily up with one arm, and carried her into the bathroom. We took a shower together to clean up. I washed Emily's hair, and then soaped up her body, careful to get it in all the little cracks and crevices. I washed the blood from between her legs and from my dick as well, although there wasn't very much. At Emily's insistence, I knelt down so she could shampoo my hair for me.

Once it was over, I toweled Emily dry, and then toweled myself off as well. We went back into her room and got dressed as Emily went on and on about how much she'd liked the experience we'd just shared. I told her I loved it too. She asked if we could do it again someday and I said we most definitely could, as soon as we got the chance, and as long as she kept her promise not to tell anyone.

Once we were dressed, I told Emily that I had to go finish painting the fence, and she offered to accompany me. We went outside and I got to work painting (after stashing my soiled boxer shorts in my car). Emily and I chatted like old friends and I was reminded of how much I enjoy the company of little girls, even if we aren't having sex. Then, after a strange pause, Emily told me something that surprised me.

"I've done sex stuff before," she confessed. I asked her who she had done it with, thinking it was most likely a boy from school or maybe even her dad. "Danielle Fischer," she answered. That reply stunned me, considering what had happened earlier.

"You mean, when you were little?" I asked.

"Yesterday," she replied. "Her mom was taking a nap and we were playing in her room and Danielle asked me if I wanted to take our clothes off and look at each other naked. So we got naked and we went on her bed and she kissed me and touched my vagina."

"And she said you're the lezzie?" I asked, shocked and suddenly hating Danielle Fischer even more than usual. "Sounds like she's the lezzie."

"Today, I asked her if she wanted to do it again, and she started crying and saying that she wasn't a lezzie," Emily went on. "Then she called me a lezzie for wanting to do it. That's when I left and came here. I'm really confused, Billy, because I liked doing the sex stuff with her but I liked it with you too."

"That's OK," I said. "Some people like to do sex stuff with boys and with girls. They are called 'bisexuals.' I think Danielle might be a lezzie, but I think you're bisexual. But don't be embarrassed. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact, it makes you very special."

Emily smiled, then leaned over, and kissed me on the cheek. A few minutes later, I finished painting the fence, just as the sound of Mrs. Duke's Hummer began to rumble up the driveway. I stood up and waved alongside Emily, who waved as well. Mrs. Duke parked the car and Emily ran to greet her mother. I watched my little friend go, feeling pleased with how the day had gone, and hoping we would have many more opportunities to do "sex stuff" in the future. My wish would eventually come true, but it would be a little more than I bargained for.

To be continued . . .