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Subject: Story First Time (mf, cons, pedo, incest)
Date: Mon, 19 Jan 2004 19:01:01 -0800
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Story First Time (mf, cons, pedo, incest)
by
Spiral
I am just a poster and not the author Of This Storie!
(mf, cons, pedo, incest)
Warning: contents are adult erotic entertainment material. If you are a
minor or will be offended by such material, stop right now and delete this
file.
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interference.
Sorry for the delay, folks, but I've had some dutites to be done. Hope
you enjoy, and if you have any comments or request, don't be afraid to
speak up.
This is a true account about my first full encounter with
pedophilia. The situation,
names, and places have been changed for obvious reason. First, let me
tell you a little about
myself.
My feeling toward myself and my hidden crutch is one of hate and
disgust, yet embraced
love. I am aware that many people in today's modern world consider me
something of a beast, a
disgusting monster to be sought out and killed amiss a group of people
carrying torches and
pitchforks. Sometimes, I cannot understand why this is. After all, I
myself have never done
anything to hurt a child or any living, or dead, person. In fact,
sometimes I feel as if I would
rather kill myself than traumatize a child. Then again, I meet people
who, like me, have the
same crutch and then I can understand. I've come across those who have
whispered fantasies of
ravaging a child in the most disturbing ways, such as rape. I have read
stories where the main
character is described as ripping children's bodies apart in a fit of
lust, of tearing the flesh and mind, of necrophiliac endeavors and
otherwise. I read these (rather, I read their descriptions
beneath the title) and shudder to think what man, woman, or beast could
be sexually stimulated
by its contents. I suppose, in the end, that I have no right as I am,
as said, a pedophile in name,and in action.
It begins with me in the store I work in, the Old Exchange. It's
a book store, or rather it's
a specialty book store. If you've ever seen, You've Got Mail, with Meg
Ryan. Our book store
was very much like Meg Ryan's, small but well known. We had our
selection of very loyal
patrons, some were weird, and some were not. I guess every store has
them. In any case, the
Old Exchange, unlike Meg Ryan's, did quite well. So it allowed Turner,
the owner and
manager, my boss, to hire me on seven months before the "incident."
I began to realize that the store was, among many things, a
practical haven for pedophiles
such as me. It was not uncommon to see a mother walk in with a cute
daughter cuddling in her
arms, or holding the small child's hands while the little girl pointed
and exclaimed at every
fascinating thing she saw. Most of these young girls, often, fit into
certain categories that I
slowly began to figure out. There was the brats who, wearing the
designer t's makeup, would
complain nonstop throughout the their visit inside the small store.
Regardless of what their
physical proportions were, whether I could see their round cherry
nipples through the thin
material of their shirts or the outline of the cone tits, I rarely if
ever felt anything more for them except nausea.
There was a short range of others before you got to the tomboys.
The tomboys were my
favorites because they rarely exhibited any self insecurities or
otherwise about their physical
appearance. I have seen the bare tits of thirteen year old girls
through the tops of their shirts as they bent down to pick up a book we
were discussing. I have seen the tits of fourteen year-Olds
and as well as fifteen year-old's. I can guarantee you know as I could
have guaranteed you then
that, they are delicious. The thing about teen tits, or preteen tits is
that they are virgin territory, unless the girl was promiscuous. The
soft small mounds of flesh, milky white and innocent in their
appearance, tipped with the luxurious color of cherries or almonds as
if a Sunday desert. I could rarely act on the sudden feelings I felt
when I spotted the hidden treasures as they were standing up, but I
could not, though I have often showed my excited state.
The last of those that I have met are the insecure girls, the ones
who I have most come in
contact with. They are the ones who are regarded as nerds or book
worms, who dress in a
mediocre, at best, clothing, with down cast eyes. I always assumed,
while watching them
scamper off to a dark corner, tipping their glasses down and wrapping
the arms about their
waists in shame for what ever imagined embarrassment, that these sorts
of girls would be the
easiest to take advantage of. I promised myself, on more than one
occasion, that I would never
do such a thing, though I never said anything about looking. It's
ironic, I would suppose, that it
was a mix of the latter, the insecure tom boy, that I first experienced
a pedophile encounter.
It was on a slow day, weekends are always slow, who wants to be in
a book store on a
weekend right, that I first met her. The day had made it an occasion to
rain, and so it was in not
such a thunderish way, but an inconvenient one. My co-worker, who was
often my boss, Mr.
Turner, had decided that the day was to slow to keep two people there.
After declining to take
the day off, Mr. Turner thanked me and decided to leave himself. After
leaving several times,
only to come back for some forgotten item, I finally found myself alone.
I, myself, am not one
of the self educated. While I do have a knowledge of certain books, I'm
not quite as adept at it
as my co-workers. In fact, the only reason why I was ever kept on was
because of my knowledge
in computers and the Internet (Mr. Turner having decided that in order
to keep up with
competition, we would have to bring the store into the modern age and,
amongst other things,
put it up on the net.) I was usually the one everyone was referred to
when they wanted a book on
the Internet, or when one of the new computer registers broke down. In
fact, I had been the one
often referred to so many times when a tech question came up, they began
to refer to men on any
electronic question.
"The light doesn't work? Well, get Max, he can fix anything!"
"What, the door bell doesn't work? Max!"
In any case, I was laying on the floor, in the middle of the aisle
that lead straight to the
main door, trying my best to fix one of the lamps at the children's
corner, when I heard the door
bell chime as some one walked in.
"I'll be right with you," was all that I could barely shout while
a wrapped an exposed
wire with duct tape. Believe it or not, my answer during those days was
to wrap it in duct tape,
and that would fix it. I was surprised when, instead of hearing a
woman's voice respond, I heard
a child's.
"Take your time." I could immediately tell it was a she, to which
I decided to expedite
my repairs. After the duct taping was finished, I slid out from beneath
the table and looked
towards the front of the store. There, standing in a small pool of
water, was an eleven year old
petite girl. I had managed, during my time at the store, to stare
without obvious eyes. I put this to use as I got up, looking and
scanning every portion of her body. She was wearing a pear of
very wet jeans, soaked almost as thorough as if she had fallen into a
pool and stayed in. Her thin
legs showed as well as if she wore no jeans at all, and I could
immediately tell that she was an
athletic child. Above her waist, a waist that barely had hips, if it
did, was the torso of a well
active child. I could tell because the shirt she wore was a white
t-shirt with the logo of some
baseball team stuck across it.
While it wasn't as transparent as one would think, I could still
almost distinguish where
the white of her shirt differed from the untanned white of her skin. As
I walked to her, the
pretense of wanting to help her, my eyes wandered ever further up,
anticipating with great hopes
that I would be able to see the flat underdeveloped portion of her
budding womanhood. I was,
unfortunately, not. The logo ran the course of her upper torso, thereby
riding across both
portions of her breasts. I was able to discern, through the flat
portions, small acorn sized bumps
across the taught, tight material of her shirt. I knew those to be her
nipples, cold and hard from
the chilling rain, erect and at attention as if she were sexually
stimulated. While I wanted
nothing but to stare and desire, to lust after those small bumps on her
chests that would,
someday, feed her children, I continued upward in one quick flash to
finally rest on her face.
Oh, but she was beautiful.
She had warm blue eyes, the kind of shade that you see when you
look up into a
cloudless sky with the sun sitting in its apex. Her face was flush,
though I suspected it was just
from the chill of the rain, just like her tight taught nipples were
erect on her slender flat chest. Her dirty blonde hair was short and
matted by the rain. It was so short, in fact, that someone could easily
mistake her for a boy. In fact, it was cut in such a fashion, as a
boys, that if I hadn't at first her voice or seen her chest displayed as
it was by her wet shirt, I would have easily assumed her to be a he and
treated the child as such. Regardless, though, I felt an immediate
attraction. Not such as one might feel sexually, but something more, I
would even dare say love. I mean, I saw her entire person in her face,
the beauty that she could exhibit when she smiled with those thin, pink
lips that were slightly quivering from the cold. I saw the charm in her
small, childish nose that was the bridge to a stream of freckles that
ran like a river beneath her eyes. I was ready to kneel down then and
there and declare my lifer hers, my soul hers, my name hers.
"Can I help you," was what I said instead. She wiped her nose
with the back of her hand,
sniffling in the process as she nodded her head yes. She pointed at
the door, indicating here she
had come from, turning her head as she talked so that all I could see
was her dirty blonde, and
matted hair, which was beginning to look black from the rain.
"My Mom, she's outside, she can't come because she's sick, but my
Mom sent me in to
get a book she had ordered." She pulled out from one of her front
pockets, after much digging,
in the process sticking her delicately tiny tongue out of the corner of
her mouth, a small piece of
white paper.
"Well how long away did she park?" I asked, walking over and
taking the piece of paper
from her hand. I said it jokingly, and effort to keep my will power in
check and to keep not only
my eyes from lowering to her chest and staring at her flat erotic chest,
but from keeping my dick,
as it was slowly feeling with blood and heat, from rising any further
than it already had.
"She's like a block down, she couldn't find a parking space." I
walked behind the
counter, unfolding the piece of paper and reading the contents.
"Couldn't she drop you off so you wouldn't get that wet?" I only
saw her out the corner
of my eye as I made my way behind the counter, flipping the top over so
I could get through and
leaving it up, and from what I saw I nearly broke out in a fit of
laughter. She had shrugged her
shoulders to my last question, and in the process looked down at herself
to see how exactly wet
she was, and she saw what I had seen, her small nipples perking up in
answer to the cold rain,
poking at the front's of her shirt like two accusing fingers. She first
pulled her shirt away from
her body to my disappointment, and then decided it would look less
conspicuous if she instead
folded her arms across her chest. By the time I had retrieved the book
in question, she was
fidgeting in an effort not to look self conscious.
"Are you cold?"
"Naw," she said, looking back down at her chest and moving her
arms slightly higher
though they were already covering her embarrassment. It made her look
ridiculous, actually,
like one of those stereotyped Indians in the old westerns.
"Hold on, I think we got a coat in the lost and found," I said. I
tossed the book she had
come for on the counter and made my way back into the back, past the
children's center and into
the storage area. I looked around for our lost and found box which I
found behind one of the
book cases and took it back out into the store. I dropped it onto the
counter, setting off a cloud
of dust that fell from the cardboard's sides, and began rummaging around
the insides. Standing
on her tip toes, her blue eyes barely cleared the top of the box. With
my mood already set from
her unknowingly humourous actions, seeing a head peek over suddenly
practically set me off. I
grinned down at her, she responded with one of her own, and though I
couldn't see her mouth, I
could tell by the tightening of her eyes. I went back to my search, as
unfruitful as then as I had begun.
"I don't think there's one in here that'll fit you. Most of these
are children's clothing,
and you're not exactly a child are you?" She shook her head no. I
stood there for a moment,
thinking, when I turned and spotted Joel's, a coworker, army coat on the
coat rack. He usually
forgot half the crap he brought to work with him. I took his army
jacket off the hanger, looking
it over and comparing it to her size. Joel wasn't exactly the tallest
or biggest guy I knew.
"You can borrow this one, if you promise to bring it back," I
said, handing it over to her.
She Nodded, reaching one arm out, the other still clutched across her
chest, and began putting it
on after I left to replace the box in the back. When I returned, she
was wearing it, and if it did
one thing, it reassured me how small the child was.
"Okay, the books going to be $74.20." I began wrapping it up,
making sure to get it tight
so the rain wouldn't be able to get to it. The girl pulled out wad of
money from her other
pocket, moving her lips while she silently counted out the bills.
Handing me $75, and retrieving
her change, she made her way to the door.
"What's your name by the way?" She turned around to answer me,
back peddling in the
process.
"Beth," she said, giving me a brilliant smile. My heart leaped as
the light reflected off of
her braces, contorting my lust into love and back. I could almost
picture my tongue tracing the
length of the metal lacing her teeth.
I closed the shop that day, my mind continuing to return to the
moment where I first saw
beth, the way her wild short hair looked and the smirk she had on her
lips just as she left. By the time I got back to my apartment, I had
pictured us married and with children, she a career
woman and me a famous computer programmer. The kind you see on t.v.,
yeah right. I couldn't
contain myself though, or at least put it off for any longer. I sat in
my lazy boy, kicked back and staring at the t.v. but not seeing it. I
saw something else, a scene where there was a knock at my door and I
went to answer. It was night, and my lights were out save for the glow
of the
television set in the background, and when I threw the door open to see
who had come to see me,
I saw by the glow of the t.v. a small form that did not even reach my
chest. A grind would crawl
across my face as it opened in anticipation.
"Why, hello Beth." She would not say anything, only step in, as
wet and soaked to the
bone as I had left her that day. And, with one arm reaching out, I
would pull her quivering body
to mine, warming her flesh with that of my own. A pause, as I looked
into her eyes, and then I
would bend down every so slowly and place, on those thin pink lips, a
kiss that would steal her
breath. But passion aside, I wanted more, much more. My tongue, wet
with spit, sneaking out
between my pressed lips and pressing against hers, forcing them to part
as if I was fucking her
mouth with my tongue. My hand would slowly drift down the small of
her back, feeling the her
tense muscles tighten up in anticipation, the feeling of her wet body
stimulating my organ. I
would grab her ass, filling my hands with the small round globes of her
soft cheeks, squeezing
almost painfully as I slurped her tongue into my mouth, entangling her
pink morsel with that of
my own. I'd press my body against hers, letting her feel my rock hard
cock pressing up against
her stomach, knowing that she wanted it as bad as sex starved whore.
"You want it don't you?" I'd ask, and she'd nod her head yes,
breathing as heavy as if
she had run a marathon. Slowly, I'd step back and pull off my shirt,
letting her she my body in
the reflection of the t.v. light. Her eyes would widen in anticipation,
her lips would quiver as she licked them. Slowly, my shirt would fall
to the floor, revealing my torso. Slowly, I would move to my belt,
unfastening it from around my waist, and then the zipper and button.
Her eyes would be fastened now on the bulge, growing and growing beneath
the material of my jeans.
"Take it," I'd say, and push my jeans and underwear down low
enough to show off my
throbbing cock, pulsating to the beat of my heart as veins sprouted out
across the trunk of my
organ. "Come on, take it." Beth would smile, taking a few steps closer
and kneeling down in
front of me. Her head, barely reaching the base of my balls. "Open
your mouth," and she
would. Her tongue would roll out, like a dog panting in anticipation of
a good meal, her pearly
white teeth shining beneath the metal frames of her braces. And,
guiding my organ with a steady
hand, dripping like a leaky faucet with thick strings of white cum, I'd
place the head of my thick
cock on her outstretched tongue, relishing in the feelings of her wet,
soft, hot tongue drooling
across my organ, itself drooling white cum across her tongue.
"Oh god, that feels good. Lick it, Beth. Lick it like it was a
lolli." She would nod her
head, and withdrawing her tongue back into her mouth to get it wet once
again, and taking my
member in one hand to point my cock straight at her face. And, placing
her pink morsel at the
base of my shaft, she would drag her tongue up the entire length,
moaning at the sanguine taste
she licked off of my dick. She would swivel it around the head, licking
the ridges and prodding
the piss whole as she coated my cock head with a thin layer of saliva.
She would repeat this
several times before I couldn't take it anymore. "Oh yes, take it into
your mouth!" Like a four
dollar whore, she would open her mouth open as wide is it could possibly
go, giving way to the
sudden morsel she was placing inside of it. Her eyes would widen as she
engulfed first my head,
her teeth raking across the top and bottom of my cock head, scratching
it in a most painfully
erotic way. I would feel her tongue being pressed down against the base
of her mouth as I filled
her to the maximum. She would gag, coughing and squeezing her eyes shut
as she pushed
further upward along the length of my seven inches, her cheeks bulging
outward as I filled her
more and more.
"Take it all!" It would be amazing, the feeling of my dick
sliding further and further into
the mouth of a twelve year old child's mouth. The feeling of her throat
opening up as she
swallowed my organ like a dinner sausage, the look of drool running down
her chin, the way her
eyes, wide, but glowing, would plead for more of me. And then she would
hit bottom, her nose
flush against my pubic hair, her chin rubbing against my balls. The
exquisite feeling of her
childish face pressed against me while my cock was snaked down her
throat like a life line.
"That's it, baby, swallow me whole." Beth, as best as she could, would
smile up at me as she
would begin to withdraw from the base of my cock, leaving a nasty trail
of saliva, drenching my
member as if I had dipped it water. Suckling noises and slurping noises
would rasp her throat as
my dick would finally pop free of her mouth, and she would grin as she
had strings of spit and
cum dangling from her mouth pool into the palm of her hand, and with me
watching, would lick
it up like a sex starved child.
"Eat it, eat it all!" She would nod, placing my cock back into
her mouth and, once again,
slipping my entire length back into her mouth and down her throat.
Only, this time, as her nose
pressed up against my pubic hair, and as she pulled off, she did not let
the entire length slip out. The ride of my cock head pressed up against
the back of her teeth. She would then push back
down, swallowing my dick once again, and then pull off, and press back
down. And, in no
longer than a twenty seconds, the twelve year old girl would be pumping
up and down on my
organ like a professional. And finally, with one long lone thrust back
down her throat, I would
erupt like a volcano. A geyser of white gooey cum would spring forth
out of my cock, like a
water gun shooting a single stream as far as twenty feet. The pressure
alone would make her
gag, reeling back like a frightened dog. She would choke up gobs of it
as it spilled out of her
mouth like a fountain as the second geyser sprung forth. It would
strike her flush in the face in
thick globs, as if someone had thrown a cup of Elmer's glue into her
face for spite. With one
eye open, recovered enough from the initial surprise, she would level
her mouth with my
thrusting dick, her mouth open once again, her tongue out stretched as
the third and forth shot
landed square in her mouth. She would lean her head back, closing her
eyes as shot after shot
landed squarely into her mouth until her mouth looked like a pool, and
my spent jiz was the
water. And, with strings of my seed dripping in long strings,
splotching on the floor like
raindrops, she would close her mouth, excess cum spilling from between
her close lips, and like
she had swallowed my organ, she would swallow my cum several deep gulps.
I practically tore
my dick off, picturing Beth covered in my seed and staring up at me
hungrily for more.
Unfortunately, good things don't last, and the fantasy was over.
Tomorrow was today, and it slowly came with a sun that rose like
a drunk on an
afternoon Sunday. I woke up with a somewhat depressed cloud hanging
over me. All these
feelings were whirling around me, and they were almost always towards
the wrong person.
Little girls, tiny girls, pre-teen girls, and make one move and your ass
is in a sling for everyone
to take a pot shot at. God damn world
"Hey Max, the system went down again." Those were the first words
to greet me on
Monday morning as I walked into the Old Exchange. Marcus Magrath, a
first generation Irish
American, always seemed to welcome me with those words. I waved them
off, making my way
into the back to drop off my bags and to get a cup of coffee before
returning into the store. It
took me an hour to figure out what it was that Marcus had done, Marcus
was always causing one
fault or another, and about five minutes to reinstall the files that he
had somehow corrupted.
"Great!" was always his response, at which point he would get on
the computer to
complete his Doom game. Damn Irish. The day was almost as uneventful as
the weekend had
been, at least, it was until late in the afternoon. I was sitting
behind the counter, in the back a few children were laughing as a parent
read from one of the books, when a woman of no real
distinguish walked in. She was dressed in a pant's suit, giving to the
impression that she was a
business woman, only she also had a crutch under one arm and a cast on
the opposite leg. She
looked over the store, her deep blue eyes finally resting on my sitting
figure. I didn't really
notice her, my face buried into a Modern Science magazine I had found
buried deep in my
closet, until she stopped at the counter and cleared her throat. I
looked up, slightly shifting on
my stool, and asked if I could help her. It was awkward, she seemed to
stare at me for a few
seconds before a grin started to spread across her face.
"Um, yes, my daughter came in and bought a book from you Sunday?"
I shrugged my
shoulders to indicate that I didn't really recall.
"She's about this high," she said, raising one hand up about as
high as my mid torso.
"She's got real short hair, she's twelve?" It hit me like a mack truck,
a grin suddenly spreading
across my face. I stood up, putting my magazine down and giving her my
full attention.
"Oh yeah, I remember."
"I figured it was you," she said with a smirk. "She kept on going
about you, how nice
you were to let her borrow your coat. I would have come myself, but as
you can see, I broke my
leg and I didn't think I could make it in the rain with my cast."
"Yeah," I said, laughing. I felt as giddy as a school girl, and I
didn't know why.
"I am sorry though," she said laughing as she began to dig through
her purse. She finally
pulled out a piece of paper and pen and began to write on it. I waited,
quietly basking in the
glory that this strange girl that I did not know had a crush on me. "I
told Beth to take it back
today, but I don't think she will. She should stop by after soccer
practice, if she doesn't you can call me and I'll make sure she does
drop it off." She handed me the piece of paper that had what I only
assumed was her phone number. "I would have brought it myself, but the
girl took it to
school with her. Anyways, sorry about the inconvenience, do call me if
she doesn't bring it back
okay?" I didn't have a chance to answer. Regardless of being on
crutches, the woman moved
exceedingly fast, and before I knew it, her portly behind was flashing
out the door.
Time seems to go by slowly when you expect someone you actually
want to meet. I
knew that seeing her again would be good for my soul, at least the part
that was lusting after her
like a sailor pulling into port, but I also knew that even under the
best conditions, nothing would
ever evolve from my feelings. I began to dwell on that for so long that
I began to resent the fact
that I couldn't pursue my feelings and for that, I began to resent her.
I don't think that I hated
her, if I did, it past the moment the clock hit three fifteen.
The door bell chimed, stealing my attention away from my magazine
once again. Beth
walked in, and it was all I could do not to smile. She was wearing a
low cut yellow t-shirt that
had the number nine on it. She wore black shorts that stopped mid
thigh, showing off a very tan,
slightly dirty, and very slender pair of legs. I could see that she
was athletic, small sinews and muscles pushing against the flesh.. Her
hair was fluffier than when I last saw her, though it was still boyishly
short and somewhat tussled. I marveled at the slim shape of her figure, the
juvenile way she walked, the prominent flatness of her chest and narrow
waist. She looked up at
me as she walked in, and a grin suddenly sprung onto her face. The
light from outside reflected
brilliantly off of her silver braces as she made her way over to the
counter. She was carrying the
green army jacket over her shoulder in an unusually casual manner.
Instead of saying hi,
however, she mouthed it.
"Your Mom was hear," I said smiling. She rolled her eyes as she
dropped the jacket onto
the counter. I half expected her to just say thanks, wave goodbye, and
then walk back out of my
life as quickly as she had walked in. The other half of me wanted her
to say, in not so many
words, 'I love you.' But all of me knew that would never happen.
Instead, I simply stood there,
staring into her unbelieving blue eyes, wishing they were an ocean that
I could swim in them.
"Did you fix it?" Her question was sudden, and unexpected,
startling out of my daze.
"Fix what?" I asked.
"That table, or what ever," she said, pointing quickly at the
table with a finger.
"Oh, I was fixing a light. The kids always figure out someway to
break the lights on
them." She nodded, giggling in the process. Inwardly, I frowned at
that. I'm usually not a very
funny guy. She stood again in silence, looking up at me and then down
at my magazine and
finally over to the monitor by the register. She was bouncing on her
toes, looking as if she were
waiting for something. What, I didn't know.
"Is that the new IBM monitor. The flat board?" She moved over to
it, doing her best to
see the front of the screen by standing on her tip toes and leaning over
the counter. I began to
answer, but instead I froze. As I stood there, looking down at Beth, I
suddenly realized that her
shirt was cut low, too low for her to be able to bend over and not hide
what was beneath. I was
staring down her shirt, and with plenty of light to illuminate the
insides, I was able to gaze across the flat space of her white, tanless
chest. I could see the structure of her breast bone as it divided her
narrow chest into half. I could see the slight puffiness of her breasts
as puberty was slowly giving her that which women got, tits. I could
see the light brown areola of her nipples, and each individual dimple in
the wrinkle skin, and I could see the slight formation of the nipple
itself. My eyes snapped back up to her face just before she turned to
look at me with her metallic grin. It suddenly occurred to me that I had
a raging hard on in my pants, and that Ray Charles himself would be able
to see it through my jeans. I sat back down on my stool as quickly as I
had gotten up, and crossed one leg over the other to hide it further.
"Um, no, that's an older, cheaper, crappier model my boss got at
an older, cheaper,
crappier store." Again, she giggled like a school girl, her eyes
squinting charmingly.
"My Mom won't get me a new monitor either. She says they're too
expensive, though I
think she just wants to save the money to go on a vacation to Italy."
"Italy?"
"Yeah, Grandpa's Italian, so my Mom says that makes all of us full
Italians."
"You don't want to be Italian?" She shrugged her shoulders,
leaning back over the
counter to stare at the monitor. I turned my head to look straight in
front of me, though my
glands told me to stare at the little girls tits.
"Nah, it's not that I mind. It's just that my Mom wants me to be
full Italian, like learning
the language and history and doing the dance crap and everything. What
type of computer is it?"
"Huh?" I turned to look at her, as if seeing her was necessary to
hear her, and my eyes,
of their own volition snapped down and inside her shirt. It was a spit
second thing, a quick
glance that you don't, or rather hope the other person notice, but
something someone always
notice. "Um, it's a used Dell. We're going to be getting a Toshiba
next month." I looked down
at my feet, staring at my white sneakers, but I could see her out of the
corner of my eye. She
looked down at herself, in an effort to see what it was I had looked at,
and suddenly stood up.
Almost as fast as I had sat down. Christ, she knew I was looking down
her shirt. There was a
few moments of silence before I figured I'd have to break it, least she
think I'm a pervert.
"Damn thing keeps crashing." And thusly, I avoided being pegged
as a pedophile with
those words. Yeah, the fuck I did. She had this great red mark across
her cheeks and over the
bridge of her nose, as if her freckles were suddenly glowing. Yeah, she
knew I saw her pre-teen
tities. She looked away, as I had done, before staring at the back of
the monitor. Surprisingly,
she leaned back over the counter on her tiptoes, only this time she put
one arm across her chest
to keep her shirt from dropping open.
"Yeah, mine used to do that too. It was a problem with a
configuration file." I quirked
my eyebrow.
"Really, and you could fix it then?"
"Yeah," she said, her face brightening up. I reached over and
lifted up the counter top
for her, closing it as she almost skipped through. I pointed to the
keyboard that was hidden
under the counter.
"Work your magic." I sat there and watched her small delicate
fingers flying across the face of the keyboard as she typed and clicked
wit the mouse. My eyes
wandered every now and then, from her, to her small round ass, over to
the occasional patron
who walked in, over to the kids in the back who were screaming along
with the story read to
them. It seemed like seconds barely passed, that I was loving every
moment she stood there with
me, and then she stepped back and it was over.
"You've got an old operating system." That was without a doubt.
I figured she was
trying to rewrite the dos system, and was unfamiliar with the older
codes. I stood up and walked
over to her side, no longer preoccupied with the bulge in my jeans,
though my dick had long
since softened up, and watched over her shoulders, nodding in agreement.
"Yeah," I said. "Mr. Turner is vying for actually buying a new
operating system. It's not
likely though. I offered letting him use mine, but as it's illegal so
he won't hear nothing of it.
Damn hippie." Beth laughed once again. She turned her head to look up
at me, and I thought
my heart would leap out of my chest. For the first time in my life, I
saw admiration and love in
someone's eyes, and it was in hers. It was the thing you see in a
little cousin, or a neighbor's kid for the cool guy, the talked about
guy. It was puppy lover, and I saw it in her eyes.
"Thank-you!" I looked up at Mrs. Mannis, and nodded. She had the
small group of
children she had brought in, all of them bushy tailed and wide eyed,
lined up in a row behind her
and all holding hands.
"No problem," I said smiling. She made a goofy face at me after
nodding to Beth, as if
to say 'don't we have a little admirer.' Soon, the duck with her
ducklings where waddling out
the door, all quacking as loudly as possible.
"Who was that?" Beth asked.
"Mrs. Mannis. She brings her daycare in here everyone once in
awhile to read them
stories." For the next hour, we sat behind the counter discussing
operating systems and
computers, engaging in a friendly argument every now and then. We
laughed and joked around
until, quite by accident, a patron who had walked into the store asked
the time. After giving it,
Beth exclaimed that she was suppose to be home and, saying her goodbye,
skipped out of the
door with a grin on her face and a smile in her eyes. There was this
feeling in me as I watched
her disappear down the street, staring at that lithe young body and all
of its movements. I had
never imagined that someone such as myself could ever achieve a
relationship with a girl like
that. For that moment, it appeared like it might happen.
I had supposed that Beth, or rather hoped that Beth would stop by
again sometime later
in the week. It was a fantasy, a wish that she would come back in to
discuss the computer or
make a pretense of looking for a book on html. I was luckier than that.
It was the next day,
around four o'clock, when the chime on the door sounded. I was flipping
through a book, Mr.
Bunnies ride through Forest when I looked up and saw the smiling face of
Beth.
"Hi!" She chirped. I smiled, leaning back on the stool just far
enough to almost fall off.
With my arms wailing in the air, I caught my balance just in time to
right myself. Beth laughing
fiercely, I stood up and motioned for her to come behind the counter. I
noticed that she was
wearing her soccer uniform again, though this time she didn't look like
she had just got through
playing the game. Her hair was combed, her face wasn't as smudged with
dirt as it had been,
and her hands looked washed.
"How was practice?" I asked.
"It was okay, I think their going to move me to forward."
"Oh, what are you playing now?"
"Wing." She took that opportunity to sit on my stool, I frowned
at her jokingly. Once
again, I felt the world lift off of my shoulders as I sat there
discussing random topics with her. I was happy to stand there and stare
at her blue eyes, to take in her silverish smile, to count the
freckles sprinkled across her face. It felt like I had absolutely no
worries in the world, like I was living just outside reality.
This is pretty much how my life went for the next week and a half.
I would sit behind the
counter, hoping and praying that she would come in, and when she did I
would do everything I
could to make her feel like she was wanted there. And while she didn't
come every day, when
she was there I couldn't help but think she wanted to stay there until
closing. Sometimes she
wore normal street clothes, but most of the time she wore her soccer
uniform. It was on a
Wednesday, and she was wearing her uniform, that those friendly
engagements evolved into
something more.
The store was empty, we were in the back room, and Beth was
helping me do inventory.
Today, we had been discussing soccer, Beth's obviously favorite sport,
when somehow the
conversation was steered into something much different, wrestling. She
was talking about one
of her favorite wrestlers, Triple H in the WWF, and I was poking fun at
her for liking the sport.
"There's no way in hell wrestling's real!"
"I'm not saying it's real, Max. I'm saying that it's just fun to watch.
I mean all the moves they
do, the way they like suplex and body slam each other." She thought it
necessary to mimic a
body slam and add sound effects as well.
"It's crap, I can't see how you can watch it."
"You're just mad cause you know any of those guys can beat your
ass!" I laughed,
turning around to face her.
"Oh please, I could take that H guy with both hands tied behind my
back." This time, it
was Beth's time to laugh.
"Yeah right, I could kick your ass!"
"Oh, please little girl. Don't make me hurt you." She made a
face as I made the pretense
of getting ready to fight her, waving my fists around jokingly. Beth,
on the other hand, took it
upon herself to show me that she could take me. She swung and hit me
lightly in the stomach,
laughing in the process. Surprised, I took a step back with a similar
look on my face.
"Oh, you wanna fight, eh." I reciprocated by lightly swatting her
across the took of her
head, she selling the hit by acting as if I had slapped her hard. She
swung and I'd dodge, I'd
swing she'd get hit. It was at one point, after getting swat in the
head for the fifth time, that she attempted to equal the sides by
tackling. I fell back as she thrusted her shoulder into my gut,
wrapping her arms around my waist, and trying to take me down. I
figured what the hell, and
acted as if she were the stronger and allowed myself to fall down onto
the floor. She fell on top
of me, slithering up my body to grab my wrists and pin my arms right
above my head. It was at
this point that I began to feel the sensuality of this twelve year-old
body pressing up against
mine. I was staring up at her staring down at me as she counted to
three in an effort to pin me
and win the 'match.' I could only lay there, staring up at her darling
face doing everything I
could to will my dick not to stiffen noticeably. Beth was sitting on my
crotch, her firm soft ass
pressing against my pelvis as her thin tanned legs were pressing up
against either side of my
waist.
"I win!" Beth exclaimed, a twinkle in her blue eyes.
"Yeah," was all that I could say. She was an absolute angel from
where I was, straddling
my body like a sin. I didn't care if she realized that I was enjoying
my positing, I didn't care if she realized that I was staring up at her
in lust, and I began to stop caring if she could feel my large cock
pressing against her ass crack. It was a second, then they were
seconds, and it was
soon passing into minutes. She didn't move, and neither did I, and I
don't think that I could. I
then noticed that her breath was coming in quick gasps, perhaps she was
tired, I thought. She
wasn't, her face was flushed and her palms were sweating, there was
something more. Before I
knew it, before I even felt it, Beth was leaning down and pressing her
lips against mine. I could
feel her entire strength as she pressed those pink lips against mine. I
could feel her body heat
through them, I could feel her passion, I could feel a thousand things.
I felt her small fingers
wrapped around my wrists and her thin muscular legs squeezing against me
in tension. I could
feel her stomach heaving against my own as she breathed through her
nose, and her flat chest
pressed up against my own. There was a moment, a second, where I
actually thought I felt her
nipples hardening, pressing and rubbing against me, but just as quickly
she had finished it. I
could only stare up at her again, this time surprise evident on my face.
She looked at me, and it
was as if her entire face turned crimson. She rolled off of me and out
of the storeroom. I sat up
as she ran down the aisle of the store, crashing into the door as she
opened it, and then she was
gone. I don't know if I yelled for her to stop, I think I did, but I
was too stunned to remember
what I did. I stood up, my head still swirling from this twelve
year-old's passionate kiss, and did the only thing I could do, finish
that day's inventory.
I was confused that night. I wasn't sure if I wanted it, the
passion of a twelve year-old
girl focused squarely at me. But I wasn't ready to ignore it, or to
stop it. I had feelings for Beth, real feelings that I was beginning to
think were more than just sexual. I was worried over
whether or not what I was doing was right, also, but in the end, it
didn't matter.
The next day, Beth didn't show up, and I was beginning to think
that I had crossed the
line, even though she had kissed me. I dwelt on that moment I woke up.
It was sort of a cursed
gift, something that Beth may have or may not have wanted to do.
Somehow, I began to regard
it as my fault, that I had led her on, that I lusted after her and that
she felt that in order for me to like her she thought she would have had
to do something such at that. I worried about her, about her feelings,
whether she had went home crying or not, whether she enjoyed it or was
disgusted by it. Four o'clock came and went, and Beth never showed up.
My heart dropped, not because I thought it was because she had not
enjoyed it, but because I was worried that I had hurt her.
"Hey Max, the system went down again." I nodded as I walked in
Monday morning, my
depression still hanging over me. I went to work right away, instead
installing my new operating
system onto the hard drive. If Mr. Turner didn't like it, then he
could uninstall it himself.
I finished around new, giving Magrath the rest of the day off. I didn't
really have the authority
to do that, but I didn't feel like having to put up with his incessant
complaining every time he
died playing Doom. Lunch came and went, a sandwich and a snack bar I
had found at the back
of my refrigerator. After that, I began to study some of the new
computer books that had came
in on Friday, and then the door chime rang. Casually, I glanced up and
then back down at my
book and froze. I looked back up, and there stood Beth, hands clasped
behind her back, her
soccer uniform hanging on her body, and her head slightly cast downward.
"Hello," I whispered. I closed my book and smiled at her. "It's
definitely been awhile.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Sorry for what?"
"For what I did." I wrinkled my face in confusion.
"What you did?"
"You know, Wednesday."
"The kiss?" She nodded her head.
"I didn't mean to, it's just that
quicken, and feel her stomach began to move faster and faster as I made
my way further and
further down. I traced the tanline on her chest with my wet tongue,
licking her flesh like it was
an ice-cream bar. She pushed her chest up against my mouth, enticing me
to suck my flesh. I
pulled the soft mounds of her pre-teen flesh, suckling it like a newborn
calf, moving and moving
my way further and further over until, out of the corner of my mouth, I
could feel the ruff skin of
her nipple pressing against me. I snuck my tongue out of the corner of
my mouth, wrapping it
around her nipple, feeling the small hard nubbin react to my hungry
tongue, hearing Beth gasp
loudly and moan as if she wee experiencing an orgasm. It felt great,
the way her flat chest felt
against my pressing mouth, the way her small, hard nipple felt against
my rubbing and licking
tongue. I made my way from one, to the other, continuously getting a
loud gasp each time I
sucked in her tits, flesh and all, into my mouth and lightly gummed it
and basted it with my spit.
I was overcome, pulled back and looked at her twelve year old chest,
wishing I could devour her
sexually. Her tits shun in the light, lightly coated with my saliva,
riverlets of spit running down onto her stomach. Her eyes were closed,
her mouth slightly open as deep gasps of breath came
and went, and her head thrown back in passion. She opened her eyes
after awhile, looked at me
with lust, hoping for more.
"Why, why'd you stop." I ran my hand across her chest, feeling
her juvenile body,
rubbing the soft tight chest and pinching her nipples. Each time I
flicked them, she would close
her eyes and gasp, or shudder and twitch. I had to use my other hand
to wipe my mouth, itself
coated in my own spit.
"Had to catch my breath." I looked at lust on her face, the red
coloring that told as much
of her passion as her erect nipples. "Did, did you like it?" Beth
opened her eyes, taking a
moment to swallow a breath and nodded enthusiastically. She grinned at
me, leaning back
forward and wrapping her arms around my neck and wrapping her lips about
mine. Her kiss, her
tongue was frenzied as she poured years of lust into one kiss, sucking
in my breath and pouring
out her desires. We broke again, gasping as if we had just ran a mile.
"You really have a lot of sexuality pint up, don't you?" Beth
grinned, and then rolled her
eyes back once again as I ran my fingers back over her pre-teen chest.
I bent back down,
flicking her nipples with my tongue, slurping up her twelve year old
body. Beth, in the
meanwhile, had withdrawn her hands from around my neck, and was slowly
pushing them down
the front of my chest. I had mistaken the implication, stood up, and
started removing my t-shirt.
Once it was above my head, however, I had gotten stuck with it and was
struggling to get it off
when I felt her small hands running over the surface of my chest. I
stopped, loving the feeling of
her hands caressing my body, and then I noticed that they were getting
lower and lower, first my
chest then my ribs and then my stomach and then she was there. Her hand
moved over the
surface of my jeans, and made there way down until it was perched over
the top of my throbbing
cock. I shuttered as I felt her squeeze my organ through my jeans,
rubbing it as if it here a
hidden pet. I got my shirt off, doing my best not to cum in my pants,
and stood there a moment
while she teased my organ with her fingers. I took the initiative after
a few seconds, and placed
my own hand across her thigh. She was several seconds ahead of me and,
uncrossing her legs,
placed, spread them as far she her limber body would allow. Her knees
were resting side by side
her, well, sides, her dress haven ridden so far up that her panties were
more than visible. I took
my time though, caressing her inner thighs and taking in her full
appearance. It was the most
erotic thing I had ever seen, a twelve year old girl sitting on a desk,
one hand behind her for
support, the other rubbing and squeezing my hard cock through my jeans,
her legs split to the
point where her knees were almost behind her, open for me and the world
to see.
"Touch me," she asked, almost pleadingly. I obliged. I moved my
hand further down
her thigh until my thumb was pressing up against the material of her
panties. I could feel the
heat radiating from her mons, as if it were a radiator. I looked up to
make sure she was ready,
but her body language told everything. Her head was thrown back again
in passion, her nipples
standing at full attention and pointing straight at me, her stomach
heaving in lust. Slowly, with
my thumb, I took my time as I reached over with that single finger and
ran it across the surface
of pre-pubescent flesh. It felt wonderful, the hot flesh, slightly
pressing down like rubber, the
flesh moving invitingly along with my finger as I ran it up and down
over the surface. I was half
surprised, half shocked that the material was so wet, as if she were
drenched. This twelve year
old girl looked so young, yet so sexual. In fact, I could almost,
unbelievingly, see Beth's clit
poking through the material of her panties, a small but endowed button
pushing out in demand
of attention. I reached over with my other hand and pulled the material
away from her sex,
exposing her labia.
Her lips were completely bare of hair, a smooth surface of desire.
Her slit, with her legs
as spread as they were, was slightly pulled apart, though her clit also
had something to do with it. I could clearly see it, the small hooded
pleasure monster standing out from her cunt, a good or
better size for a girl her age. Her lips were moist, or wet, more wet
than anything. They shined,
coated from the lubricant of her vagina, trickling out from her small
opening. The table beneath
here was slight wet from it, a small pool of her cum dripping off and
out of her slit. I moved my
thumb back over her mons, feeling the rubbery soft skin, pushing my
thumb around it before I
moved it lower and lower. I felt her tense as she readied for my touch
to reach her button.
"Oh! Oh, God!" Beth's entire body froze, every muscle in her
body tensed as I made
contact with her clit. I rubbed the exposed flesh, just beneath the
hood, lightly, and Beth fell
down on the table. Her legs remained open, her knees still pulled up
but laying flat on the table,
her hands pressed against her face as her breath came in chops. "Oh,
oh, oh, oh!" I used my free
hand to spread her lips apart, to expose the inner sanctum of her cunt.
I could easily spot her
vaginal hole that was drooling with wet lubricant. Getting on my knees,
I leaned forward and
finally, took her bare pussy lips into my mouth with a wet kiss. "OH!"
Her entire body jerked,
her legs lifted off the table, my tongue, outstretched, retrieved her
clit, hood and all, and pulled it into my mouth. I flicked it, suckled
and pulled on it with my mouth. I could feel the heat building and
building beneath her flesh, I could taste the salty, musky saturation of
her juvenile cum as I pulled on her flesh. I let it slip from my mouth,
audibly slapping back and her legs kicked out in pain and pleasure. I
licked greedily up the entire area of her engorged lips as if grooming
her pubic area with my tongue. I sucked up all of her juices loudly,
slurping and
suckling, tasting every bit of her vaginal area that was possible.
I was hoping for an eternity of this, but that didn't happen.
Beth, suddenly howling as if
in pain, wrapped her legs around my head as tight as possible, almost to
the point of
suffercation, and came like a flooded damn. A heavy flow of cum spurted
out of her vaginal
hole, coating my face in a mask of her essence. Startled at first, I
opened my mouth to drink, as
if from a fountain, as much of her as I could ingest. I swallowed and
swallowed until I thought
I'd be sick, and just as soon, it was stopped. I pulled myself from
her, her entire body shaking as if in an epileptic fit, her breath
coming in short quick gasps. I stumbled away, mentally
exhausted as I watched her slowly recover, her limbs hanging as loose as
a dolls. I was glad that
I had removed my shirt, though plenty of Beth's orgasm had gotten on my
jeans. Seconds later, I
realized that most of those stains were my own, I had cum in my pants,
probably the moment I
had taken Beth's pussy lips into my mouth.
I don't remember how long we remained like that, me standing
there, spent mentally and
physically, and Beth lying there feeling the same way. Eventually,
pushing her legs back down,
she sat up with a grin that almost split her face. Her body was coated
with sweat, as was mine,
though I would have thought she got the better work out. We stayed like
that, smiling and
grinning at each other knowingly for awhile, until I suggested she
straighten herself out. I left
for a moment to get us a towel further in the back, slowing my pace
enough for her get dressed
again. When I returned, she was pulling her shirt back on, still
smiling, and standing a little
shakily. Her legs trembled as she took a tentative step towards me as I
handed her a handful of
towels, wiping my face and doing my best to wipe our cum off of my
pants. After I was done
with myself, I helped Beth clean herself up. Her legs were plenty wet
from her juices that had
dripped down, out of her cunt, and if I could have, I would have licked
her legs clean.
"That! Was! Fun!" I laughed, hugging her tightly, and running my
fingers through her
short hair. We kissed, though not as passionately as we had, though
only because we were spent.
Beth remained the rest of that day, each of us talking and
huddling together like we had
been lovers for decades. That was how we remained for the next month.
We never had an
opportunity to do again what we had done that day, and I don't think
either of us really cared.
Our relationship had progressed past the physical means, and into
something more, and we were
both more than okay with that.
It was, however, after that month that things took as bad a turn
as they possibly could
have. Her Mother, upon a promotion, was transferred out of the state,
and so far she might as
well have been sent out of the country. Beth, with me helping in the
shadows, did everything we
could to keep her from leaving. But not all stories end like fairy
tales. She was forced to leave, both of us promising to keep in
constant contact with each other, be it email or letters or phone calls.
But those never last, and time progressed, and the letters began to
get further apart until they just stopped. She had taken up a new life,
as had I, and so we both moved on.