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An Adventure in Writing. Mg Pedo. Consensual.
By SilverBlade©2004
Chapter I A Ring at the Door
She must have been about eight years old. Not perticularly good looking
by some standards, but with the natural prettiness of childhood. Her figure
was good, but with the usual amount of puppy fat that portrays a lack of
diet consciousness and excercise that many young ones portray nowadays.
In short, she was reasonably pretty, but not the sort of girl that porn stories
rave about.
I knew she was one of the neighborhood kids, having seen her around a few
times, mainly when I'd been ogling pretty young things skipping and playing.
Mostly, when they see me watching, they disperse - drifting away and whispering
things to each other. I guess they don't like me.
Yes, I like young girls, but they don't like me. Understandable, I guess,
as I'm not very well liked in the neighborhood. Even at the local bar I tend
to get shunned, just because I don't fit in very well. I think they are
suspicious of me 'cos I don't go to work as most of them do, or draw benefit
as the remainder do. I run a small correspondence course in mathematics.
Not hugely profitable, but enabling me to live a reasonably comfortable
life-style without having to toil in some local factory or office.
I was surprised then when I answered a ring on my doorbell to find this little
cutey standing nervously there. Expecting some prank or other - and it not
being Halloween or anything - I glared at her and growled, "Yes? What do
you want?"
"P-Please mister," she stammered, "C-Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"What about?" I demanded, a little less severely.
"I-Its those girls," she explained, indicating a group of three girls standing
giggling on the opposie side of the road, "T-They dared me to - to talk to
you, and said they would hit me if I didn't."
"Oh, did they indeed?" I replied, a little amused now at her nervousness
- and at her bravery, too. "Well, you can stay here until they go away, if
you want."
Her eyes brightened as I opened the door wider, inviting her in. Casting
a triumphant backward glance at her three tormenters she stepped into the
hallway and I closed the door behind her.
"Come right in," I said, indicating the way to the lounge. "Go sit down and
I'll bring you a drink of lemonade and a cake. Would you like that? Then
you can tell your friends that you are not scared of anything."
"Oooh, please," she answered, taking a seat on my over-stuffed sofa, "but
they're not friends. They're bullies from my school. I-If they think you
know me, they may stop being nasty. They are all scared of you."
I brought her a glass of lemonade, and a plate with a few slices of cherry
cake, which I set on the coffee table beside her.
"Scared of me?" I enquired, picking up the coffee that I'd been drinking
earlier. "Why would they be scared of me?"
She bit her lip. "Er....they ... well.... they say things about you," she
answered, taking a bite of cherry cake in an obvous attempt to hide her nervousness.
"I-I don't believe it though," she continued, swallowing quickly. "I think
you are really nice."
"Well, thank you, young lady," I retorted, "but just what do they say about
me that's supposed to be scary?"
I sat down on the far end of the settee from her, looking at her inquiringly.
She took a sip of her lemonade. "They say you like looking at little girls,
and that you must be - must be......a dirty old man," she finished hastily.
I laughed. "Well, I guess if liking girls makes me a 'dirty old man', then
I must be one. I like you, don't I?"
"You do?" she giggled, a little embarassed now.
"And what else do they say?" I demanded.
The smile flickered away, as she considered her reply. "They say......the
say .....well.......thay say nasty things........." her voice trailed away.
"Oh?" I uttered. "Tell me.......what nasty things do they say?
She was silent for a moment.........staring into her lemonade glass and avoiding
my eyes.
"They - they say,".............she hesitated and took a deep breath, then
turned to look boldly at me. "They say you want to do things with girls,"
she blurted out, her cheeks blushing pink as she spoke.
I laughed out aloud, and she relaxed a little on seeing that I was not angry
with her. She grinned a little sheepishly at her own outburst.
"What things?" I wanted to know.
"Oh, you know...........sex things and stuff," she replied, shifting uncomfortably.
"Sex things?" I asked, "What would you know about sex things?"
"I know all about," she retorted, a little indignantly and to my amusement,
"we talk about it all the time, me and my friends. We have sex lessons, too,"
she added to reinforce her point."
"Hmm," I said, "then you should have learned enough to know better than to
talk to strangers like me."
She laughed prettily. "Oh, we got told all about strangers. But you are
not a stranger now - and besides, nobody would want to do anything with me."
"Oh, and why not? I asked, "I think you should be careful."
She shook her head, her shoulder length auburn har flying prettily. "No,
I'm not as pretty as the other girls. Who would want to bother with me? I'm
fat and ugly."
"You are certainly not," I told her. "I think you are quite lovely, and you
are going to grow up to be a beautiful young woman."
Her face suddenly glowed with pleasure at my compliment. She scooted across
the length of the settee to me, put her arms round my neck and rewarded me
with a kiss on the cheek.
"Oooh, you really are nice," she informed me, accepting my arms now around
her, and settling down as I cuddled her.
"And just what," I enquired, "Do you think a stranger might do to a pretty
young girl,"
The girl squirmed, cuddling up more closely. " I can't say, 'cos its a bad
word, but you know what I mean."
"No," I insisted, "Tell me what you mean."
"You......you won't shout at me? Not if I whisper it to you?"
"Of course not," I assured her.
She moved, to bring her mouth closer to my ear. Her warm breath felt wonderful,
and I breathed in the little-girl scent of her as she pulled herself even
closer.
"He......he.........he'd......f....f......fuck her," she blurted. I felt
he cheek grow hot.
She pulled back a little. "You're not mad?" she enquired anxiously.
"Of course not," I responded, "you can say anything you want to me. We are
friends, aren't we? "
"Mmm", she murmured, relaxing back into my arms as though relieved that a
barrier had been crossed, and I felt that a curtain between us had been thrust
aside.
"Of course," she informed me solomnly, "nobody would want to...........you
know........f......fuck me......so I'm not scared of anybody."
"Hey, don't be so sure," I told her, "you're very attractive indeed. If
I was stranger, even I might want to .. er ....... you kow........" I finished
lamely.
"You'd want to fuck me?" she finished triumphantly, having got the answer
she'd been obviously fishing for.
"Well......yes.........I guess so." I answered.
"And you DO want to?" she persisted.
"Hey, steady on," I remonstrated, "I never actually said that. Have you ever
..... you know ....... done it before?"
"What? Been fucked?" she responded brightly, and now fully ease with an explicit
conversation. "Well, no, but I've always wanted to. I mean, it must be good
'cos everybody does it. Everybody 'cept me," she finished dolefully.
"No boyfriend?" I enqired, my pulses now racing a little, and a definate
stirring in my pants.
"Nope," she responded, "wouldn't want a boy to do it anyway. They are mean
and talk a lot."
"Anyway," she added, "You are my friend now......and if you want to do it.............."
"I'm a bit old for you, you know," I chided
"Oh poo!!", she retorted, "Sally 'opkins......she.........well......."
"What about Sally Hopkins?" I wanted to know.
The girl giggled. "I'm not 'sposed to tell, but she does fucks with her granddad
.. and he's lots and lots older than you."
"She told you?"
"No, but her sister did.....and she's seen them."
"'sides," she added, I've seen lots of pictures of girls with old men, and
read stories, too. An' I bet lotsa them are true. Why, I bet.....I bet its
being done all over the place."
"Well, I guess so," I mumbled, "But this Sally is probably older than you,
too. I'd say you're only about eight, even if you do act older."
"I'm nearly nine," the girl retorted, "And Sally is in the same class as
me, see. An' she says she did it when she was seven. So there!!
By now my cock was straining hard against the restraining fabric of my pants.
Certainly it was pressing against her, and I felt sure she must have been
aware of it.
She was!!!
My heart leaped as a tiny hand crept down into my lap, and little fingers
grasped my cock through my trousers.
"See," she crowed, "you've got a 'rection......an'.......an' that means you
DO want to do it. You want to fuck me, don'cha?" she challenged.
I was speechless..........my throat was to dry to make an intelligible reply.
Next moment I felt her unzipping my pants and diving inside to pull, with
some difficulty, my raging hard on frm my trousers.
Grasping it, she uttered, "Ooooh, its ever so nice."
I moaned as her hand moved up and down my shaft, her thumb feeling, exploring
my sensitive cock-head. I had to execise almost painful control to avoid
cumming there and then.
"There," she said, "I've felt you, now you can feel me if you want to."
Yes, I wanted to. Wanted to more than anything at that moment.
I ran my hand up her leg, inserting my fingers under the leg of her white
cotton pants.
"Mmmm, yes," she murmured, parting her legs more to allow me better access.
I slipped a finger into her little fuck-hole, sliding it in easily through
her dampness. She was almost as horny as I was!!
--------------------------------
To be continued in Chapter II - If Chapter II gets written!! That depends
on you, my readers. Just a few favorable comments will be sufficient to encourage
me.
SilverBlade.
By SilverBlade©2004
Chapter I A Ring at the Door
She must have been about eight years old. Not perticularly good looking
by some standards, but with the natural prettiness of childhood. Her figure
was good, but with the usual amount of puppy fat that portrays a lack of
diet consciousness and excercise that many young ones portray nowadays.
In short, she was reasonably pretty, but not the sort of girl that porn stories
rave about.
I knew she was one of the neighborhood kids, having seen her around a few
times, mainly when I'd been ogling pretty young things skipping and playing.
Mostly, when they see me watching, they disperse - drifting away and whispering
things to each other. I guess they don't like me.
Yes, I like young girls, but they don't like me. Understandable, I guess,
as I'm not very well liked in the neighborhood. Even at the local bar I tend
to get shunned, just because I don't fit in very well. I think they are
suspicious of me 'cos I don't go to work as most of them do, or draw benefit
as the remainder do. I run a small correspondence course in mathematics.
Not hugely profitable, but enabling me to live a reasonably comfortable
life-style without having to toil in some local factory or office.
I was surprised then when I answered a ring on my doorbell to find this little
cutey standing nervously there. Expecting some prank or other - and it not
being Halloween or anything - I glared at her and growled, "Yes? What do
you want?"
"P-Please mister," she stammered, "C-Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"What about?" I demanded, a little less severely.
"I-Its those girls," she explained, indicating a group of three girls standing
giggling on the opposie side of the road, "T-They dared me to - to talk to
you, and said they would hit me if I didn't."
"Oh, did they indeed?" I replied, a little amused now at her nervousness
- and at her bravery, too. "Well, you can stay here until they go away, if
you want."
Her eyes brightened as I opened the door wider, inviting her in. Casting
a triumphant backward glance at her three tormenters she stepped into the
hallway and I closed the door behind her.
"Come right in," I said, indicating the way to the lounge. "Go sit down and
I'll bring you a drink of lemonade and a cake. Would you like that? Then
you can tell your friends that you are not scared of anything."
"Oooh, please," she answered, taking a seat on my over-stuffed sofa, "but
they're not friends. They're bullies from my school. I-If they think you
know me, they may stop being nasty. They are all scared of you."
I brought her a glass of lemonade, and a plate with a few slices of cherry
cake, which I set on the coffee table beside her.
"Scared of me?" I enquired, picking up the coffee that I'd been drinking
earlier. "Why would they be scared of me?"
She bit her lip. "Er....they ... well.... they say things about you," she
answered, taking a bite of cherry cake in an obvous attempt to hide her nervousness.
"I-I don't believe it though," she continued, swallowing quickly. "I think
you are really nice."
"Well, thank you, young lady," I retorted, "but just what do they say about
me that's supposed to be scary?"
I sat down on the far end of the settee from her, looking at her inquiringly.
She took a sip of her lemonade. "They say you like looking at little girls,
and that you must be - must be......a dirty old man," she finished hastily.
I laughed. "Well, I guess if liking girls makes me a 'dirty old man', then
I must be one. I like you, don't I?"
"You do?" she giggled, a little embarassed now.
"And what else do they say?" I demanded.
The smile flickered away, as she considered her reply. "They say......the
say .....well.......thay say nasty things........." her voice trailed away.
"Oh?" I uttered. "Tell me.......what nasty things do they say?
She was silent for a moment.........staring into her lemonade glass and avoiding
my eyes.
"They - they say,".............she hesitated and took a deep breath, then
turned to look boldly at me. "They say you want to do things with girls,"
she blurted out, her cheeks blushing pink as she spoke.
I laughed out aloud, and she relaxed a little on seeing that I was not angry
with her. She grinned a little sheepishly at her own outburst.
"What things?" I wanted to know.
"Oh, you know...........sex things and stuff," she replied, shifting uncomfortably.
"Sex things?" I asked, "What would you know about sex things?"
"I know all about," she retorted, a little indignantly and to my amusement,
"we talk about it all the time, me and my friends. We have sex lessons, too,"
she added to reinforce her point."
"Hmm," I said, "then you should have learned enough to know better than to
talk to strangers like me."
She laughed prettily. "Oh, we got told all about strangers. But you are
not a stranger now - and besides, nobody would want to do anything with me."
"Oh, and why not? I asked, "I think you should be careful."
She shook her head, her shoulder length auburn har flying prettily. "No,
I'm not as pretty as the other girls. Who would want to bother with me? I'm
fat and ugly."
"You are certainly not," I told her. "I think you are quite lovely, and you
are going to grow up to be a beautiful young woman."
Her face suddenly glowed with pleasure at my compliment. She scooted across
the length of the settee to me, put her arms round my neck and rewarded me
with a kiss on the cheek.
"Oooh, you really are nice," she informed me, accepting my arms now around
her, and settling down as I cuddled her.
"And just what," I enquired, "Do you think a stranger might do to a pretty
young girl,"
The girl squirmed, cuddling up more closely. " I can't say, 'cos its a bad
word, but you know what I mean."
"No," I insisted, "Tell me what you mean."
"You......you won't shout at me? Not if I whisper it to you?"
"Of course not," I assured her.
She moved, to bring her mouth closer to my ear. Her warm breath felt wonderful,
and I breathed in the little-girl scent of her as she pulled herself even
closer.
"He......he.........he'd......f....f......fuck her," she blurted. I felt
he cheek grow hot.
She pulled back a little. "You're not mad?" she enquired anxiously.
"Of course not," I responded, "you can say anything you want to me. We are
friends, aren't we? "
"Mmm", she murmured, relaxing back into my arms as though relieved that a
barrier had been crossed, and I felt that a curtain between us had been thrust
aside.
"Of course," she informed me solomnly, "nobody would want to...........you
know........f......fuck me......so I'm not scared of anybody."
"Hey, don't be so sure," I told her, "you're very attractive indeed. If
I was stranger, even I might want to .. er ....... you kow........" I finished
lamely.
"You'd want to fuck me?" she finished triumphantly, having got the answer
she'd been obviously fishing for.
"Well......yes.........I guess so." I answered.
"And you DO want to?" she persisted.
"Hey, steady on," I remonstrated, "I never actually said that. Have you ever
..... you know ....... done it before?"
"What? Been fucked?" she responded brightly, and now fully ease with an explicit
conversation. "Well, no, but I've always wanted to. I mean, it must be good
'cos everybody does it. Everybody 'cept me," she finished dolefully.
"No boyfriend?" I enqired, my pulses now racing a little, and a definate
stirring in my pants.
"Nope," she responded, "wouldn't want a boy to do it anyway. They are mean
and talk a lot."
"Anyway," she added, "You are my friend now......and if you want to do it.............."
"I'm a bit old for you, you know," I chided
"Oh poo!!", she retorted, "Sally 'opkins......she.........well......."
"What about Sally Hopkins?" I wanted to know.
The girl giggled. "I'm not 'sposed to tell, but she does fucks with her granddad
.. and he's lots and lots older than you."
"She told you?"
"No, but her sister did.....and she's seen them."
"'sides," she added, I've seen lots of pictures of girls with old men, and
read stories, too. An' I bet lotsa them are true. Why, I bet.....I bet its
being done all over the place."
"Well, I guess so," I mumbled, "But this Sally is probably older than you,
too. I'd say you're only about eight, even if you do act older."
"I'm nearly nine," the girl retorted, "And Sally is in the same class as
me, see. An' she says she did it when she was seven. So there!!
By now my cock was straining hard against the restraining fabric of my pants.
Certainly it was pressing against her, and I felt sure she must have been
aware of it.
She was!!!
My heart leaped as a tiny hand crept down into my lap, and little fingers
grasped my cock through my trousers.
"See," she crowed, "you've got a 'rection......an'.......an' that means you
DO want to do it. You want to fuck me, don'cha?" she challenged.
I was speechless..........my throat was to dry to make an intelligible reply.
Next moment I felt her unzipping my pants and diving inside to pull, with
some difficulty, my raging hard on frm my trousers.
Grasping it, she uttered, "Ooooh, its ever so nice."
I moaned as her hand moved up and down my shaft, her thumb feeling, exploring
my sensitive cock-head. I had to execise almost painful control to avoid
cumming there and then.
"There," she said, "I've felt you, now you can feel me if you want to."
Yes, I wanted to. Wanted to more than anything at that moment.
I ran my hand up her leg, inserting my fingers under the leg of her white
cotton pants.
"Mmmm, yes," she murmured, parting her legs more to allow me better access.
I slipped a finger into her little fuck-hole, sliding it in easily through
her dampness. She was almost as horny as I was!!
--------------------------------
To be continued in Chapter II - If Chapter II gets written!! That depends
on you, my readers. Just a few favorable comments will be sufficient to encourage
me.
SilverBlade.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
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