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From: "Nikki@P.U."
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.incest
Subject: ROBBIE & LISA
Date: Wed, 08 Sep 2004 16:10:28 -0700
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ROBBIE & LISA
The following story depicts explicit sexual contact
between adult and under aged participants. Those offended by graphic
descriptions of pedophilic relationships should read no further. This is
entirely a work of fantasy, and does not advocate the abuse of minors in
any way, shape or form. All characters and events represented herein are
completely fictional.
ROBBIE & LISA
"Want me to teach you how to do a handstand?"
Robbie Patterson was lounging around on the back porch
of his Ramsey Street home, sharing a can of Sprite with the little girl
from next door. Her name was Lisa, she was ten years old, and she was
about the prettiest little thing in the whole of Chamberlain. They'd
just finished a game of one-on-one in the driveway, both were simmering
in the late summer heat, and Rob had started wondering what color her
panties were. Fortunately, both her parents were out for the day, and
there was no one around to hear his question.
"A handstand?" Lisa repeated, shading her eyes from the
glaring westerly sun. Her face was flushed from the afternoon's
exertions, and her hair sprawled over her shoulders in a mass of blond
tangles. She turned over onto her right hip, looking up at him with a
grin that could have dropped a grown man at fifty paces. Robbie nodded
in reply, vaguely surprised at how easily he'd snared her interest.
"Yeah," he answered, handing her the Sprite to finish
off, "like we saw on ESPN the other day. Remember?" Understanding
flickered across her porcelain features; her smile broadened, lighting
up roughly half the sky.
"Oh yeah," she said, eyes sparkling with excitement,
"on that gymnastics show." She sat up on the back steps, leaning forward
on her hands and speaking in her racing, rapid-fire banter: "I got this
friend at school, her name's Carol, she does gymnastics and she can do
handstands and cartwheels and backflips and everything! Can you show me
how to do it?"
"Well, sure," Robbie replied, "I'll hold your legs so
you won't fall over." He made certain to keep his tone completely level,
as if he was offering her a slice of leftover pizza. Meantime, his heart
was hammering with the thought of seeing her underwear. He'd been
catching glimpses for weeks now, a flash of silk here, a dash of nylon
there, but he'd never managed to score a good, solid look so far.
"OK!" Lisa agreed, almost leaping from her flesh as she
rose to her feet. She was wearing a loose pink shift with a long, cotton
skirt splashed with ripe raspberries. Rob's gaze tracked down her
youthful figure, enjoying the way the gauzy material clung to her
thighs. She had a nice set of legs, trim and firm and quite shapely for
a girl of ten. He'd seen them often enough over the past couple of
months; she'd alternated shorts with minis during the heat wave last July.
Lisa trotted down the back steps, gathering up her
hemline in two bunched handfuls, her hair blowing in the four o'clock
breeze. Alighting on the tightly clipped lawn, she turned to face her
tall, wiry friend, eyebrows lifted expectantly. Robbie stepped down off
the porch and walked over to her left side. He glanced around the yard
for a few moments, then went down on one knee beside her.
"All right. Go ahead," he told her.
Lisa lifted her arms skyward, took a deep breath - then
suddenly stopped. Nibbling on her lower lip, she dropped her hands to
her sides and shot him a sidelong glance. Something had just occurred to
her, something which made her cheeks burn with a faint rosy tint. She
fidgeted from toe to toe like a very small child hiding a secret too
huge to conceal. A sweet, coy smile touched her features.
"You promise you won't look?" she finally enquired,
blushing to the eyebrows.
"Look at what?" Robbie asked, shamming ignorance. He
knew precisely what she was referring to, but he wanted to hear her say
it anyway.
"Robbie!" she giggled, unable to meet his eyes, "you
know …"
"No, I don't," he replied teasingly, "what do you mean?"
"My panties!" she exclaimed, embarrassed to the point
of exasperation, "promise you won't look at my panties!" Her little
hands moved down the front of her skirt in an unconscious attempt to
protecting her modesty. She regarded him from beneath lowered eyelashes,
practically dancing with indecision. Robbie watched her performance with
considerable amusement. He'd never realized how cute and sexy and
downright loveable she was until this moment.
"Okay," he laughed, not unkindly, "I promise.
Cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die, stick-a-needle-in-my-eye." Needless to
say, he intended to examine every square inch at extreme close range.
His curiosity had grown into a full-blown fixation, and he wasn't about
to deny himself the opportunity of a lifetime. Still, he judged that a
little reverse psychology wouldn't go astray at this point. "Then
again," he began, making as if to stand up, "if you'd rather not learn
how to do handstands …"
"No, no, I still wanna learn!" Lisa acquiesced hastily.
She was ten years old: like most girls her age, she loved showing off
her underwear, and privately considered Robbie Patterson the hottest boy
on the planet ('drool material,' her friend Carol would have described
him). Despite her protests to the contrary, Lisa didn't mind him seeing
her undies for a few seconds - once she'd extracted his dying promise
not to look, of course.
"All right then," Robbie said, as if the matter had
been settled once and for all, "let's get started."
Lisa wavered another few seconds, rolling her eyes in
childish hesitation, then raised her hands high above her head. Stifling
a throaty squeal, she dropped onto her hands and flipped herself upside
down. Rob leaned forward with his arms outstretched, ready to catch her
if she overbalanced. He needn't have bothered; her equilibrium was
utterly faultless (evidently, she wasn't quite as inexperienced as he'd
originally thought). She halted at the height of her arc, arching her
spine as gracefully as a ballerina - and the performance began.
Lisa's skirt peeled loosely down her calves, exposing
her legs by slow, teasing degrees. Smiling to himself in wordless
satisfaction, Robbie tilted his head in for a better look. Directly
below, the hem slipped several more inches then gave way entirely. The
skirt immediately flopped inside-out, offering him an utterly
spectacular view of her underpants. His heart skipped a beat (several,
in fact). Unfortunately, he only had a moment to enjoy the scenery.
Lisa's voice warbled up from beneath the inverted drapery, edged with
high, girlish panic.
"Robbie!" she cried, careening her little feet, "I'm
falling!!"
Rob's hands streaked out to catch her by the waist. He
didn't want her toppling over just yet. He steadied her between his
palms and roamed his gaze up and down her figure. She was wearing white
cotton socks and shiny black girl-shoes; the kind with little black
straps around the instep. Her legs were long, slender and perfectly
formed, betraying only a hint of puppy fat around her dimply knees. The
flesh at the top of her thighs was pale and silky smooth; as soft as the
skin of a baby.
"Pretty," he said, gliding his fingertips over her
gently curving tummy.
He settled down to inspect her white cotton pants. They
were low-cut bikini briefs with a dainty white trim around the legs and
waist. Rob nodded in silent admiration: there was something incredibly
sexy about a little girl's panties. The pristine fabric seemed
unspeakably innocent and feminine. There was a faint floral print around
the hips, almost invisible to the naked eye. He ran his fingers over the
front of her knickers, relishing their insubstantial texture. Lisa
wriggled her bottom in outrage.
"Robbie! You said you wouldn't look!"
"I'm not," he assured her, drawing a fingertip down to
the rim of her gusset.
"Yes you are!" she exclaimed reproachfully, "you
promised!!"
"I had my fingers crossed," he replied playfully.
"Oh, you liar!" she accused in baleful tones (although
he detected an impish laugh behind her words), "let me down, Robbie! I
wanna get down!"
"Okay," he said, releasing his grip on her midriff.
He sat back on his haunches, allowing Lisa to fall
cat-like onto her feet. Her skirt was tangled up around her shoulders,
so that her panties were still on open display. Grinning from ear to
ear, she adjusted her clothing with exaggerated care, wrestling the
hemline down her bare torso. Her pale complexion had darkened to a
sultry crimson, lending her a lushly sensual appearance. Robbie observed
her antics with undisguised pleasure. This was nearly as good as the
handstand. She was certain revealing just as much panty.
"Stop looking at me," Lisa giggled, eyes glittering
with excitement. This was embarrassing beyond belief, but it was kind of
funny, too. She turned her back on him, presenting her firm, ripe bottom
to his scrutiny. The cleft of her cheeks showed through the sheer cotton
as she tugged her skirt down at the front. Glancing back over her
shoulder, she shot him a mischievous smile and jiggled her fanny around
in cute little circles. Rob chuckled to himself, watching her bottomtops
wobbling about in rude display. His temperature was rising and so was
his pecker. It wasn't your average teenaged rail-spike either: he
couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so aroused.
The skirt finally dropped into place.
Lisa swung 'round, flashing Robbie her most brilliant
smile. Her clothing was still in a state of wild disarray, in spite of
her best efforts. Her top was hitched around her ribs, disclosing a
generous expanse of belly, and her hair hung in tattered blond streamers
all the way to her hips. Her expression was radiant, ecstatic,
completely devoid of anger or petulance. Hemline billowing in the
jetstream, she ran across the grass and launched herself into his arms.
The swan dive caught Rob entirely off guard. He went down with a grunt
of surprise, folding his elbows around her as they hit the ground. They
tumbled along in an ungainly tangle of arms, legs and feet, coming to a
halt maybe six feet from the back steps. They lay together on the lawn
for nearly a minute, laughing and gasping in unison.
"That was fun, Robbie!" Lisa chortled happily, "what
are we gonna do next?"
Rob paused to consider the possibilities (and catch his
breath - she'd all but knocked the stuffing out off him). What could he
do with her now, how far could he go? How far did he dare? There was no
doubting how excited she was; he could feel her heart thumping against
his chest. She'd obviously enjoyed parading her undies, maybe she was
ready to go one step further.
"Want to come upstairs and play doctor?" he asked,
butterflies swarming through his stomach. Suddenly, he didn't feel quite
so cock-sure of himself. He taking a gamble, a rather big one, and the
cards weren't exactly stacked in his favor. He began to regret his
words: Lisa's eyes widened, her small mouth gaped wide. Evidently, he'd
gone too far this time.
"Robbie! That's naughty!" Lisa trilled. Rob tried to
hide his disappointment behind a lazy, rakish smile. It had been a long
shot at best, but he couldn't help feeling a stab of regret. She was,
after all, the hottest little number west of the Pecos, and he'd been
hoping to see what she looked like underneath those white cotton wisps.
Then:
"Will I have to take off all my clothes?" Lisa asked,
eyes as wide as dinner plates.
"Yes," he answered without missing a beat.
"Even …" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "even my
panties?"
"Yeah," Rob replied in the same hushed tones, "even
your panties." He slipped his hand inside her shift; his fingers touched
her naked tummy, stroking and fondling. Stars began to flicker before
his eyes; his blood seemed to thunder through his ears as he waited for
her answer. The suspense was intolerable: his cast-iron member felt at
least three feet long. He had to have her. Two seconds passed, three,
four. Lisa gnawed on her lip once again -
and Robbie knew he'd won.
"Okay," she said.
NEXT: PLAYING DOCTOR.
Email me if you enjoyed this story.
gauismarius@hotmail.com.