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From: Pee Wee Herman <indexhtml@nhell.com>
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Subject: ROBBIE & LISA
Date: Wed, 09 Jun 2004 18:09:50 -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.