## Archive-name: samantha_and_brian

From: MrDouble@ix.netcom.com (Mr Double)

Subject: Samantha and Brian (Mfmf, kids, inc)

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

For these and more stories, check out Mr Double's Story Page at: http//:www.netcom.com/~mrdouble/main/mrd.html

The following story describes GRAPHIC SEXUAL situations involving children which are INTENDED TO BE READ BY ADULTS ONLY.

If you are breaking a law in your area by reading furthur, or are under the age of 18, immediately erase this story, call the police and turn yourself in.

MR DOUBLE is the Poster, the Author NOT !

Enjoy ! *---(:> Mr Double <:)---*

Archive-name: Young/sambrian.txt Archive-author: Brian Foster Archive-title: Samantha and Brian

One evening I happened to overhear an interesting discussion.
Neil and Suzanne are good friends of our family, and live within walking distance. They have three kids, Tony, Christine, and Samantha, their oldest, aged 8. The conversation centered around her 9th birthday which fell on that Saturday. On Monday her parents had to go to a business conference for a few days.
'Uh oh...' My hair went on end. Oh no, they hadn't, they couldn't, they mustn't...
They had.
It was her holidays, and my family had just volunteered to look after her. They were still working during that time of course, so that meant...
"Oh Brian", came Suzanne's cheerful voice, "Samantha is coming over here on Monday for a few days, you won't mind looking after her during the day, will you?"
I slowly lowered my book, revealing her cherubic smiling face looking my way.
"She won't take too much of your time, I promise", she said.
She disappeared. So that was settled. Funny that, I couldn't seem to remember agreeing to babysit her, but I was going to anyway. What the hell do they think I am?? A sucker. Yes, that must be it. Okay. No more "Mr nice guy" from me at times like this! Now lets go into the lounge and decline the job... Yeah, right... especially since I was the only person in any position to do it.
<Sigh>

Sunday evening rolled around, and sooner rather than later she was here.
I'd reached page 372, and was intently studying the table of derivatives of inverse trig functions.
Personally, I'd much rather have been out exploring some filthy weta-ridden muddy cave out at the Waikato heads or tramping through the bush around Lake Waikaremoana, but such pleasures would have to wait till after exams. At least I had 2 hours of weight training every second night to keep my body as active as my mind was forced to be right now.
I'm the oldest (22) out of the four kids in our family, so while our University finals were on the others were still at school. So peace and quiet reigned supreme, except for the barely audible boob-tube in the lounge. A half eaten pizza nearby was doing a vanishing trick. Tinnies of Lion Red beer were waiting in the fridge immediately after this chapter. Bliss. Peace on earth.

The door flew open and a giggling, Angelic faced, slim, newly 9 year old black haired girl invaded my room and jumped onto my bed, clutching a sheaf of drawings she was working on.
"Hi, Brian!" she exclaimed.
"Hi Sam, what've you been up to?"
Study forgotten, I entertained her, chatting about the Camp she was going to next week. She went there last year too, and frequently recalled the swimming pool in the discussion. It didn't even enter my mind that she didn't particularly like swimming, she was a gymnastics girl.
That night she slept in the next room, thank goodness.
Next morning I'd struggled to Chapter 7 and was well on schedule for next weeks exam.
Wrong. Foolish thinking; 9am sharp it was invasion time again.
We went to the park and played on the swings and slides, we got back home and played Cards. She said she loved the maypole at her school, so I did the next best thing and took told of her arms to swing her around. Then I tried it the other way and took hold of her feet. That way, I did it slowly and not for long since blood rushes to the head. As I did so, I noticed I could see all the way up under the shorts, even the white panties covering her little mound... Dammit, stop perving, Brian! Jeez, haven't you got anything better to do??, I reminded myself
... surely it was approaching midday. Wahay!
AAARRGHH!!!
It was 10am.
Oh dear. This was going to be a long long loooong day.
"Can we go to McDonalds for Lunch, Brian?"
McDonalds. Images invaded my mind of that fat, stupid looking clown with his big, plastic, painted on smile, accompanied by all the artificial disneyland images designed to encourage whining, screaming brats to harass their parents into buying their over priced garbage.
And it WAS expensive.

In the late afternoon I finally got some peace.
"Integration by parts; for every differentiation rule there is a corresponding Integration..."
"I want to help bring in the washing", she said.
"Thanks Honey, that'd be a great help."
"Integration by parts; for every differentiation rule there is a..."
"Wheres the basket for the clothes?"
I fetched it.
"Integration by parts; for every..."
"Everythings too high, have you got something for me to stand on?"
I fetched a stool.
Click.. click... click off came the dry clothes from the line as I studied my calculus.
"Brian, could you lift me up, these are too high for me to reach?"
Grrrr....
"Sure."
I took hold around her tummy and lifted her up so she could remove the small stuff from the line.
An inspiration born out of desperation came to mind. I lifted her higher with one arm around her waist, unclipped the shoulder straps of the overalls she'd put on as it cooled in the afternoon, slung them over the washing line, then reattached them.
She laughed hysterically and started kicking out, trying to escape but she was hanging there from the washing line.
Safe. Comfortable. Immobile. And most importantly; out of my way.
I heard the line vibrate as she struggled, trying to free herself from it and drop to the ground. Forget it, you ain't getting free, period.

"Brian!" Mother suddenly called out. "What do you think you're doing!!"
She stared in astonishment at me lazing on a deckchair while Sam struggled to get free from the washing line.
"Bloody Brians being mean to meeee!!", Samantha cried out.
"Mind your language, young lady", she said as she detached her from the line and lowered her to the ground. Sam ran over and hit me on the shoulder.
"Thats for tying me up there, you meanie."
"Thats enough, Samantha. Inside; it's time you had a bath", Mother said, looking at the grimy arms and legs from playing in the park. She flashed a look of anger in my direction as she led Sam inside.
No credit for taking her everywhere. Oh well, I expected no less. Such is life.
It was my turn to cook dinner, which I did after being told to kiss and make up to Sam for picking on her. She giggled and went back to drawing in front of the TV. Oh well, only another.... THREE days?? Drat!
Eventually I got the peace I wanted and got some serious work done before Sam's bedtime at 8. It was twilight outside, but the light in her room was already on and the door was slightly ajar. Music was playing on the radio in her room, so I guessed it was safe to enter to tell her it was time to get ready for bed.

So you can imagine my astonishment when I walked in to see her lying on the bed, dress lifted above her waist, her panties beside her, frantically masturbating.
It was an awesome sight, the little fingers rubbing the tight hairless crack, her eyes closed, concentrating almost to the exclusion of anything else on what she was doing.
Transfixed, I could only watch the beautiful sight.
Moments later her eyes opened and she noticed me watching inside the doorway.
The most incredible look of sheer terror crossed her face. She pulled down her dress, leapt off the bed and dashed past before I could stop her then slammed the toilet door shut behind her.
Luckily the rest of the family were far enough away not to hear the door slam and Sam bawling her eyes out in there. Obviously she thought she was going to be in REAL trouble, and if it had been her parents or mine that very likely would have been the case.
"Sam, it's okay, you can come out, I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm sorry I walked in there, I was just coming to tell you to get ready for bed."
Deciding it'd be better to let her calm down by herself, I left after making up my mind to chat with her later.
After half an hour she was out and back in her room again. The light was out and the curtains drawn, but in the trickle of light from the streetlight outside I could see she was hiding under the sheets. Sam visibly tensed when I entered, probably expecting to be told why she mustn't do things like that.
"It's okay Samantha", I quietly said as I leaned close, without sitting on her bed. I thought that would have been too parent-like instead of the person-to-person talk I had in mind.
"I know you're really embarrassed about being caught, so I just thought I'd tell you I don't think you were going anything wrong. Most people do the same thing, they just won't admit to it of course. It's quite okay and natural, theres nothing wrong with it.
You'll just have to be a little more careful in future. Since the door was open and music was playing I thought it'd be okay to come in. If you'd closed the door I'd have knocked first and you could've told me not to come in, but I'm really sorry I caught you at a bad time.
Anyway, try not to let it worry you. I'm not going to tell anyone, now or ever. I'm not going to ask why you were doing it, or tease you about it or anything like that.
Now, try and have a good night, Sam. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Don't go" she suddenly asked when I turned to leave.
"Okay if I turn the light on?" I asked.
"Yes, it's okay."
She'd uncovered her head when I turned and went to sit next to her.
"Feeling better now?"
"Did you really mean that, lots of people do it?"
"Yes, most people do. I've heard it said that if someone claims they don't, you know they're lying", I replied, grinning.
"Do you?" she pointedly asked.
There was no point in hiding it; this was no time for false truths or half-lies.
"Yes, I do. It doesn't do any harm, though some people may say it does. Don't believe them."
"When did you start doing it?" she asked.
"When I was 12. I remember my first orgasm quite well. I sort of discovered it by accident."
"I started doing it last year. A friend told me how", she replied.
She went quiet at this point.
"What do you think about, when you do it?", she asked.
"I think about girls, just like you probably think about boys."
"Have you ever touched a girl?"
"Have your parents talked with you about these sorts of things?"
"No. Mum just told me what not to do, and told me to read some books about our bodies from the Library if I got curious."
"Well, it's just that I'm not sure if I should talk about it since I could get in real trouble with your parents. I know you're only curious and theres nothing wrong with that, but I just want to be careful. Can you talk with your Mum about it?"
"I'm scared to ask."
"I don't think she'll get annoyed if you ask when you get her alone. In a few years you'll be hearing all about it from other girls at school, if you aren't already, so you might as well hear about it properly from her. She'll probably be pleased you asked, in fact I'll bet she's just as scared as you are to ask if you want to talk about it."
"Could you talk to me about it?"
"I don't think I should."
"Please?"
"Well, okay, I can, but it's not for you to repeat to other kids, because they should hear about it from their parents, not from you."
Where do I start... ummm, okay.
"Do you know what boys look like without clothes on?"
"Yes, at the Camp last year there was this peephole between the boys and girls changing rooms that the boys don't know about. We watched them all the time."
My mouth dropped open. This coming from a barely nine year old girl. Not that I was so innocent back then, either.
"There used to be this peephole in my school changing room too, but the girls knew about it and covered it with a towel the whole time."
"I saw this message on a toilet at school. It said 'suck my cock'. What does that mean?"
"Well, 'cock' is another name for his penis."
She thought about this for a few seconds, then suddenly screwed up her face in disgust.
"Ewwwww.... YUCK!!"
About what I figured she'd think of the concept.

So we chatted for ages about sex. I taught her about her body, about boys bodies, what would start to happen to hers in a few years. Samantha readily agreed to my suggestion that she get out "The Body Book" at the Library the next day so we could go through it together.

When I got back to work, I noticed I kept re-reading the same pages without anything sinking in... sleep was calling.
I dreamt a hazy dream about my old school. The playing field, the corridors, the schoolrooms. Familiar and not-so-familiar faces flashed into my line of sight in the usual poorly defined and focussed, plotless memory. Like most of my dreams it was about to shift to another unconnected memory when the scene suddenly changed.
Looking up, I saw a playhouse, only it was full of stark naked girls aged from too-young to the 20 year old dream girls that appear on the (too) rare occasions sex comes into my dreams. Around me, everyone was playing and walking between classes, fully clothed and totally unconcerned about what was happening above.
Shocked, surprised and aroused by the sight, I almost ran up the ladder to the level the girls were on. I expected to be told exactly where to go, but they didn't take any notice of the sole male in their midst.
Quickly I scanned the naked girls milling around me, and decided to try my luck with a slim girl aged around 12.
I walked up to her, and asked outright if I could give her a licking.
"Sure", she said, and led me by the hand to a corner of the playhouse where a chair was. She put one leg up on the chair while I knelt in front of her and moved close. I could plainly smell the faint odor of her sex as I homed in, put one hand on the underside of her raised leg, the other on her hip, and planted my tongue in her hairless crack...
Instantly the dream faded.
Damn it! I tried to keep it going but failed, and woke with a raging hardon. The dream was so vivid that I could still smell that little girls fanny right in front of my nose, just like when in a dream you clutch something and you're sure you've brought it back from dreamworld, but of course it turns out you haven't.
It's all very well for dreams to end when they get too bad to handle, but why do they also have to end when they get juicy?? Don't you just hate that?

The first job that morning was taking Sam to the Library and letting her find the books concerned, rather than face possible funny looks from the librarian while getting them out myself.
When it came to it she wanted to read them by herself, which was fine by me. I told her that if she had any questions, not to be afraid to come and ask me about them.
The next few hours passed VERY quietly. She was just up the corridor, but I didn't hear a peep all that time. Maybe I'd just found the perfect babysitting technique!
Almost silently she entered my room a little later.
"Hi Brian, can I ask you a few questions? You said I could."
"Yes, I did. Sure, what are they, honey?"
"Is it true, boys can put their... things... into a girl? Thats what the book says."
"Yes, thats how babies are made."
"I can't even fit my finger inside, let alone one of... those."
"Not many girls can until they're about 12, and even then he has to be really gentle or it can hurt. If he is, it can feel really nice."
She opened one book to the pages that showed what people look like without clothes at various ages.
"Which one do you look like?"
"Ummm... the last one", I replied, pointing to the most developed male figure drawn.
"Can I see it?" she asked.
"You mean, take my clothes off?"
She nodded.
"I know you're only being curious, but I'd get in really, really, big trouble if people knew I'd done that."
"I've seen them before, it won't hurt me."

When I was her age, I wanted to see my cousin nude. Just her, nobody else. Of course I never did, but now I know that it wouldn't have done me any harm if I had. Nor would it have done any harm if she'd noticed my interest and shown her body to me whilst explaining all about it. And here was Sam, wanting to do the same thing with me. Nothing sexual whatsoever, she just wanted to see a male body. She'd seen naked, unsuspecting, boys and the drawings, and wanted to see a mans privates closer.
I was worried she might regret it later in life and think she'd been molested, then figured she wouldn't want me to unless she was ready. And she obviously knew the trouble I'd get into if she reported anything.

"Okay, here you go" I finally said to Samantha as I lay back on the bed, undid my jeans then slid them and my underpants down a little.
Samanthas eyes went wide.
I'd about decided that was enough when unexpectedly her hand moved over and touched me. She touched my cock and traced its length, then stopped short of my balls when she encountered the first pubic hairs. I was hoping she'd rub my balls but she obviously didn't like the crinkly, unfamiliar hair. Other than that, Samanthas confidence shortly increased and she took proper hold of my cock.
The soft warm hand delicately exploring it and now wrapped around it was too much. As much as I tried to avoid it, a hardon formed. Now I figured she'd definitely seen her fill, and moved to pull my pants up.
"No, please don't. Is that what the other girls call a 'hardon'?"
"Yes it is, it usually happens when a girl touches a boy."
Unexpectedly she got onto the bed next to me then lifted her dress above her waist to show her white cottontails. A thin line of untanned skin peeked out from beneath them, vivid against her tanned legs.

"Do you want me to take my panties down?" she asked.
"I'd like that, but before you do, I want to make sure you know how to say 'no' to things you don't want."
"I already know how to do that."
"Some boys don't readily take 'no' for an answer when it comes to this sort of thing. Do you mind if we play a game first?"
"What game?"
"You have to say 'no' to everything I suggest."
A grin crossed her face.
"Okay."
With her hand where it was, it wouldn't be easy concentrating hard enough to do what I had in mind, but I really wanted to make sure she knew she didn't have to.

"Alright. You're friends with a boy, and he wants to touch you, but you don't want him to. He puts his hand on your knee. What do you do?"
"I push it off."
"He puts it back."
"I push it off, and tell him I don't want to."
"He tells you that if you won't let him, he won't be friends with you."
"I tell him I don't care."
Good answer. I grinned at that. Lets try something more difficult.
"You're with a group of friends, and they tell you that if you don't let a certain boy touch you, they won't be friends with you any more."
She thought about this, then replied.
"No, I won't let him."
"Are you Chicken or something?", I snarled.
"I just don't want to", she replied, refusing to be intimidated.
"Why not? We've all done it before, what're you afraid of?"
"Don't push me, or I'll find some friends who'll care about what I think."
10 out of 10.
"Good. If someone says at your age that they've done it, they're almost certainly lying, and even if you did to try and please them, they'd most likely turn around and call you a slut or something. And if the worst comes to the worst, you're better off alone than in bad company."
"Now try this one. You're sitting next to a boy on a bus, and he puts his hand on your knee. What do you do?"
"I push it off."
"He puts it back."
"I tell him not to."
"He ignores you."
That stumped her, so I dropped a hint.
"Say it again, but louder", I suggested.
"Get your hand off my knee."
"Louder."
"GET YOUR HAND OFF MY KNEE!!"
Wow! If that didn't do the trick if it was tried on Sam, I didn't know what would. I could imagine a would-be pervert, startled out of his wits, with all eyes upon him, jumping out of his seat and getting off at the next stop.

"Still want me to take these off?", she asked while fingering the waistband of her panties.
I nodded.
Down they went. Unlike me, she didn't hesitate to expose her privates. Just as I thought, a triangular wedge of pure creamy white skin appeared, stark against the brown of her legs. Briefly she lifted her knees to her chest to get them off completely, then the panties were discarded on the floor.
Samantha opened her legs slightly to let me see everything, then went back to touching me while I gazed at her most intimate parts. The smooth mound curved down to an unbelievably delicate looking crack, in the midst of which I could just see her inner lips tightly nestled and protected inside.

"You can touch, if you like."
Whilst checking her facial expression and body language in case she changed her mind, I started rubbing and feeling all around her lower body, her legs, her tummy, slowly working my way towards her crack. When after several minutes I finally got there she gave a low sigh of appreciation as my finger started rubbing her slit.
We settled down to seriously exploring each other. Her hand moving up and down my erection, barely touching, mine rubbing all around her fanny and mound. Things were getting hotter and hotter. Neither of us said a word as we touched each other. Sam slowly gained confidence and began touching my balls, moving them around, confirming the anatomy in the books. I took hold of her hand and showed her how to cup and gently rub them, and squeeze the top of my cock as her hand passed over it. She was fascinated by the way it moved and went superhard when she did that.
I pushed her t-shirt up to expose her nipples and the tiny swellings of baby fat on her chest, then bent down to kiss them as I continued feeling her down there.
By now it was obvious she wouldn't mind, so with two fingers I eased her cunt lips open until the tiny bud of her clitoris and the bright pink inner flesh appeared. The pink folds curved inward at the base of her fanny, indicating the way towards her obviously virginal vagina. I eased her lips still further open until the opening of Samanthas vagina was plainly in view, then moved in for a close examination while rubbing all around her crack, moving in circles towards the little clitoris and finally settling on rubbing it with a finger from one hand and massaging her upper thighs with the other.
When she realised I was doing what she'd started doing to herself last night, she took her hands off my privates then relaxed to let me do as I intended.
I paused to pull up my pants then leaned nearer so I could see everything closeup. Samanthas tight little crack stared back as I moved into a better position to pleasure her. She was getting damp, and my finger was rubbing easier and easier through her fanny lips. I desperately wanted to kiss and lick here there, and taste every corner of her dampening cunt.

"My friend told me that a boy kissed her down there, and she liked it", she suddenly said. "Could you do it to me?"
"I was just about to ask."

By means of reply, she opened her legs wider.
Oh god. The dream was going to come true. I lifted her legs further apart and moved into place between them. The sweaty odor of her fanny filled my nostrils as I kissed my way up her leg and around her cunt before moving in for the kill.
With two fingers I eased the lips open again until her innermost recesses were exposed to my gaze, then planted a kiss on her clitoris and started licking her crack from one end to the other. She sighed and started breathing heavily, which I took to mean that what I was doing was okay. Whilst rubbing her upper thighs and the area immediately around her fanny I kept up the work with my tongue, flicking the little bud of her clitoris back and forth.

"Is this okay?" I asked after a few minutes.
"It feels nice. Keep going if you want to."
"If you like, I can lick or rub almost anywhere you want. I can rub your bottom or put my tongue in your vagina. If you want me to try something, don't be afraid to ask."
"What you were doing was good", she said.
So I resumed licking her pleasure spot.

When her crack was glistening from one end to the other with my saliva, I moved one hand up her body till I found her nipples again, which I started rubbing over and around with my fingertips. Don't let appearances deceive you; just because little girls don't have a bust it doesn't mean their breasts aren't sensitive. Samanthas nipples went hard, and the remaining tension in her body vanished as she gave herself to my desire to pleasure her.
Every now and then I planted my mouth sideways over the entire length of her now very damp cunt and sucked on it, tasting increasing amounts of salty vaginal lubricant each time I did so.

I'd never expected to lick a hairless girl, ever. Oh, perhaps with a shaven woman, but never a genuinely underage girl. And here was Samantha, wriggling on the tip of my tongue as I ate her out like there'd be no tomorrow.
Slowly her crack turned from pink to dull red as the area engorged with blood from all the stimulation.
She started shifting around and moaning slightly. Guessing that she she was close to cumming, I lifted her legs over my shoulders. Their warmth and weight spurned me on to lick her cunny harder than ever till she came with a shudder.
Immediately she came, I put her legs back down onto the bed and moved up to hold her tight, kiss her on the cheeks, mouth and neck, and thank her for letting me make her feel good. She responded in kind to my kisses and hugs. Enthusiasm and lack of experience. hmmmm... I'd have to teach her the finer points and etiquette of kissing later on. It would be fun teaching her to kiss french style with her tongue in my mouth, but questions might be raised if she tried it on her parents upon their return...
There'd be plenty of time for such things in the coming days, I knew.

So I put her panties back onto her, then started massaging her limbs, tummy and head whilst whispering sweet nothings to her; surrounding her with love and caring.
Exhausted from the force of her orgasm, she shortly dozed off. I left her there to sleep while I prepared afternoon tea for when she woke up, then organised my work for the afternoon. Without warning, the first sign she was awake was a loud <slurp> from the doorway as she tucked into a cold glass of fruit juice and the choccy bikkies I'd left next to her bed. Samantha was wearing a two piece bikini and was carrying a towel. I would have thought the tiny top was unnecessary at her age, but the little buttons poking out of her chest said otherwise.
She almost ran outside to leap into our pool while I went out to soak sun nearby. You could see she'd already done lots of that this summer. The long slim smooth legs I was between just a few hours previously were quite nicely browned.
I checked the temperature in the pool, discovering it was pleasantly warm. These long hot days lately had done wonders for the pool temperature, so I leaped in myself for a cool off and splash around.
Before long she got out, spread a towel on the grass, lay on her tummy and reached behind to undo the strap of her bikini top.
"Could you rub some lotion on me, Brian?" she asked. "Mums always telling me I'll get burned if I don't."
I agreed, took the bottle of sunblock and sat next to her.
I squeezed a gob of lotion between her shoulders and started massaging it in, over her arms, shoulders, back then carefully over her sides so as not to tickle her. The chance to give another nice massage wasn't wasted. Several times she said it felt nice, and asked me to keep going.
Another blob of lotion landed on her upper legs, making her wince again. I worked it into her slim but well muscled legs until they were completely covered.

"Brian?", Sam asked out of the blue.

"Yes?"
"You forgot a bit."
"Where?"
"The top of my legs."
"Ah.. okay..."
I'd scrupulously avoided there so as not to spoil the mood; not to mention avoiding giving some nosy neighbour reason to complain.
After glancing around to ensure nobody was in sight, I drew a last line of lotion just below her bottom and rubbed it onto her soft skin. Higher and higher, until I was about to reach the crotch of her bikini bottom. She parted her legs slightly to allow access to the last bit of exposed skin. The material was tight up against her most intimate parts, and had pulled up into her crack, outlining everything.
When I finally got there and rubbed against the very edge of her crotch band, she audibly sighed.
Alright, that was it. Two can tease, I thought, and rubbed the insides of her legs with my fingers for as long as I dared, without so much as touching her fanny. 'You Bastard', I could almost hear Sam thinking.
Now she opened her legs further and raised her bottom slightly off the towel, silently begging for more. Nope. What she wanted still wasn't forthcoming, so she turned her head to one side and stared up into my eyes for several long seconds, the meaning obvious. Not yet, you randy little girl, you'll have to wait. I continued slowly rubbing all around her privates.
Just before I reckoned she'd start giving direct orders, I stopped teasing. A hand slipped inward and two fingers came to rest firmly on the material covering her crack. Her head shot up from the towel and she exhaled a long breath. My fingers remained still, so little by little she slipped backwards to press them harder into her crotch.
Another good look around to make sure nobody was in sight.
"You're overdressed", I whispered, then pulled her bikini bottom down just enough to uncover her bottom. The band clung momentarily between her legs then popped free. In this brilliant sunshine, the exposed white bottom contrasting shockingly against her tanned legs and back.
She shivered and looked up from the towel, checking as I had that nobody was nearby.
"I just looked, nobodys around. Lie back and leave the rest to me."
She did as I suggested, and I pushed her legs apart until the material of her bikini was stretched tight. Now my hand was rubbing her glistening crack. Bright pink flesh was exposed as a finger worked its way into her fanny and began stroking her clitoris.
Sam raised her head off the towel again and groaned loudly. Too loudly.
"Shhhh..." I implored her.
Sam quietened enough to continue, but then I heard footsteps walking up the neighbours driveway. Reluctantly I withdrew and pulled her bikini bottom up again. She'd heard it too, and didn't move or object. Trying to bring her off out here in the sun was dangerous enough as it was.

We didn't mention what we'd done as we got back to chatting, and when she got tired in the warm sun I got off the deckchair to let her take over and snooze in the sun while I watched over her.

The afternoon passed quietly. I did some more swimming then settled to tanning my all too pale body.
Looking at her, I got to thinking; what would she look like when she became older? But just from looking at photos it's well-nigh impossible to guess. The face can be predicted fairly well, but the rest would depend on how she looked after her body.

That line of thought got me wondering; had I been thinking of her or myself when I gave oral sex to her? Would the short term pleasure now, hurt her in the long term? Theres no doubt that forcing oneself upon an unwilling person hurts, badly.
But at what point does sexual experimentation and education become sexual exploitation? Telling children about it when they display curiosity and giggliness about vaguely sexual pictures, or when they ask pointed questions? Letting them know what the human body looks like unclothed? Were the latter illegal, naturalist camps would vanish overnight. What about letting children indulge in their natural curiosity and actually touching? The resulting charge is "allowing a minor to perform an indecent act". Or teaching them all about sex and how pleasurable it is within a loving relationship? Regardless of circumstances, this results in a plethora of charges lumping it together with real abuse. Carnal knowledge, allowing an indecent act, unlawful sexual connection... the list is endless.

I've never heard of a child hurt by entering into fully consenting sexual activity. Confused, maybe. Aware, yes. But leading a life burdened with the hell of abuse, no.
I feel the trouble is defining 'consent' in a way easily interpreted by law. Likely, one of the reasons such things were banned outright was to avoid the obnoxious situation of a scummy lawyer arguing that a child who displayed all the "no" body language but didn't verbally refuse unwanted contact was actually saying "yes".
At the same time, I felt such an abuser was all the more wrong, for being so narrow minded as to ignore the obvious body language and/or the crying when they enter their victims bedroom, yet thinking their victim is saying "yes" because they can't verbally say "no". Additionally, Victims often 'split' from the abuse in order to survive, and hence act normally the rest of the time towards the person who hurts them so badly.
I've heard that 75% of the resulting stresses are the result of societal pressure. Not to say that sexual abuse doesn't exist, far from it. I just wonder who the abuser is, in cases where consent is obviously there and the child knows their consent can be withdrawn at any time.

How many times have we heard about the innocent young girl, enjoying what she was doing, telling a friend about it, who promises not to say anything. Word "somehow" gets out, and the girl is forced by peer pressure to save face and name by recanting and changing her views. The experience becomes more and more abhorrent because of the looks of pity and disgust directed at her.
That, and being forced to give evidence in court against relatives or friends was hardly likely to help. I've heard that many such youngsters grow up troubled and often commit suicide later on because of these pressures placed on them.

But emotional and physical pain aren't restricted to children.
I used to cringe at the stories I heard about girls enduring pain, discomfort and being left with emotional scars from first times at the hands of equally inexperienced or conquest-seeking and manipulating lovers; all that anticipation replaced with painful reality. Not surprisingly they often regret their decision fullstop, and I often wondered why it had to be so.
Not anymore.
If only families were allowed to teach the finer points of sex to their children, it seems so preventable.
What is so wrong with educating our children in sex? To teach or show what sex could be, instead of what it shouldn't? To involve all the little details of anatomy, position, smell and touch, so they aren't so damned ignorant? And whats wrong with teaching them from love? Instead of lust and desire. I feel it's almost essential for youth to read "dirty" books to learn about subtleties like foreplay, or even the concept of non-penetrative sex.
But who wants to risk the wrath of the law, or worse, the righteous indignation of their neighbours? So we're obliged to throw our kids into the sexual arena with a "be good now" warning that doesn't work, and the cycle repeats itself. They have to be incredibly lucky to find a caring lover the first time under these circumstances.
Apart from the scantest details of the biological functions and appearance of the human body, Samanthas books said nothing about the details of sex. They almost seemed religious, discussing nothing except the role of sex in procreation.
It was as if Children shouldn't know about the pleasures, as that *might* lead to, *-gasp-*, experimentation. Children aren't stupid, we only wish they were. If they knew what it was all about, they wouldn't be desperate to experiment. I feel that knowledgeable children are more likely to refuse casual sex, knowing that it's far better within a stable, caring, long term relationship so they're not going to end up hurt. And that the ideal place for learning about such things is within a caring family unit.
And we thought we were past the hangovers of the Victorian ages. Ha!

Years ago there was a Scandanavian community where relatives would very gently introduce children to sex. By reports, none could be described in any way as hurt, and they were mature and knowledgeable beyond their years. Not to mention, very unlikely to fall prey to abusers.
Then the Authorities discovered what was going on and stepped in to arrest the Adults. I wonder how those children are faring these days, as a result of the latter.
If either party have sexual relations against their will, thats abuse. If either feels uncomfortable or bad about it, it shouldn't take place. But I don't think that it has to be bad or uncomfortable, nor does it have to have the abusive as part of the relationship.
Ideally, if the child is always asked for permission prior to even the most innocent touching of their private parts, ie: for washing, they'll have a fair idea of what consent is about.

Damn, it was three-thirty. Time to stop procrastinating and get the jobs done before the folks come home.
I peeled the spuds, got some meat out for dinner, and was chopping up the Onions. In moments my eyes were watering. I was glad it wasn't me cooking tonight. Whats on the boob-tube I wondered; oh, thats right. There was some good movie tonight, now what was it...

Samantha was standing next to me.

"Hi, was it okay out there?", I asked.
My voice trailed away. She was standing there with a big grin on her face. The only item of clothing she had on was her bikini top. Her mound and crack were just begging to be rubbed, kissed and licked all over again.
"Would you like me to do again what I did earlier?"
"After teasing me like you did out there, I think you'd better."
I teased YOU?? Look who's talking. But what the heck... Whatever you say, Sam.

I reached down to caress her tummy as she stood there, and moved in to kiss her neck and whisper into her ear how good I was going to make her feel. Gingerly I fondled her soft round little white bottom with one hand, whilst circling down to her fanny and pushing a finger between her legs with the other. I found her clitoris and began slowly rubbing it as she turned her head to return my kisses. Surprise, surprise; she'd even brushed her teeth before coming into the kitchen.
Rubbing her clitoris wasn't easy this way, so I got her to lean forward against the bench with her legs further open. Both hands returned to their former position. Fingers edged between her legs from both sides. Promptly they dipped into her wetness and slid through the damp little crack until they met somewhere between her legs.
Shortly I was rubbing both fingers in and out between her legs and through the depths of her fanny, massaging and stimulating the full length of her crack while Sam stood there, head tilted back, mouth agape, breathing heavily.

That was it, I couldn't wait any longer. I wanted so badly to lick her out. Okay, how would we do it this time... in the lounge I decided. I led her in there and lay back on the couch, then directed her to kneel with one leg on, the other off the couch so she was straddling my face.
When she was positioned I opened her fanny wide. Immediately my tongue dipped into her sweet, sensitive pinkness and started licking her fanny while the other hand rubbed her bottom and all around her privates.
Slowly she relaxed, and little by little allowed her entire weight to rest on my face; which as you can imagine wasn't much. Samantha kept shifting her weight from one leg to the other, which made things difficult as I kept having to adjust my position to keep up. Finally I bade her to keep still.
She was even wetter than a few hours previously, and it looked like she was going to come harder than before. My tongue and fingers were sliding through her dampness more and more readily. I averted my eyes for a moment and spotted Samantha looking down at me with the most amazing look of pure lust over her swollen nipples, still covered with the tiny top. I didn't think it was possible for someone to look so sex-starved as she did.
Pulling her fanny lips open wider, the opening of her vagina was exposed again. Gingerly I put my index finger against the opening and eased it in. She tensed, but it slowly entered the tight hole.
"Does that hurt?" I asked from somewhere between her legs.
"I'd tell you if it was", came the confident reply.
So in it went. Carefully, taking my time, my finger edged in past the first joint and halfway to the next. I circled it around inside then settled to pushing it in and out, gradually easing further and further inside her tight wet vagina. Little resistance marred it's progress, until she suddenly asked me to stop just past the second joint.
She was starting to move around again, and this time I knew it was because she was close. Out came the finger, which audibly popped free from her virgin hole. I got her rocking back and forth to help my tongue lash her clitoris. Before much longer she trembled, tilted her head back, groaned loudly, then tensed and lifted herself off my face and stayed there until she'd come down from her high. I watched as her fanny lips, freed from the attention of my spreading, probing fingers, closed tightly over her pink flesh once more.
Then it was over, and she climbed off. As before, I hugged and held her, kissed her and rubbed her back.
Idly I regarded the finger that had been inside her vagina. The first thing ever to enter Sams vagina, probably because during nervous self-explorations she hadn't gotten the juices flowing enough first. Then I licked it clean of her juices.

"Yuck! You know where thats been!" she exclaimed, grimacing.
By means of reply, I wiped my finger through her crack then licked it clean again.
"Oh, don't be gross!" she said as she closed her legs to prevent me having another helping.

I took the chance to teach her the finer points and etiquette of kissing. She liked the idea of driving her tongue as far into my mouth as she could, which drives me wild. She remained more or less nude the whole time, which I didn't mind in the least as I dress the same way when alone; in other words, not at all. Mmmm... I feel tingles just remembering it, holding her against me, her tongue in my mouth, our arms around each other.
This was the time to tell her about the minor role of sex in relationships, to wait till she was really sure of her future lover before allowing him access to her body, that she should feel free to say "no" at any time, and if she felt she didn't have that choice then the only real choice for her peace of mind was to leave the relationship.

All good things come to an end, and my parents car pulling into the driveway was the signal for Sam to dash to her room and return more respectably dressed.

Seated at the dinner table, my mind kept drifting back to our furtive encounters. I really liked being touched, and she didn't mind either, but she really didn't like the hair. Sure, she'd get used to it when she grew her own, but since it was so unfamiliar it wasn't really surprising she didn't like it. When my own pubes started to grow, like many kids do I hacked mine off with scissors, only to be left with unbearable scratching and itching which rapidly convinced me it wasn't such a good idea.
If it was okay and sexually desirable for women to shave their pubic hair, I didn't see anything wrong with a male doing the same. Also, it wasn't like I was at school and had to conform in every way. So as soon as the dishes were done, I locked myself in the bathroom, applied soap to my pubic hair then set to work with a clean razor. Starting at the top and working down, while taking care to keep the skin tight. When every hair was gone, I ran the razor over my balls, barely touching them, until they too were smooth. Then I ran a piece of Ice over the shaved parts as I'd heard it reduces the initial irritation. The irritation would end after a week so long as I maintained it every 2-3 days in the shower from now on.
Finally I shook the towel out onto the lawn then put it in the wash.

The rest of the evening was spent with the family, catching up on gossip and news. We received a phone call from Sams parents in Wellington, who asked how she was getting on. Sam talked briefly with them before I was called to the phone.
"How are your studies getting on?", Suzanne asked.
"Good, very good in fact, thanks."
"Is little Samantha behaving herself?"
"She certainly is, no complaints at all. I'm keeping her occupied, as Mum can testify. Sam was having a rest till they came home."
"Has she been hassling you for McDonalds?"
"Well, now that you mention it..."
"Thats thanks to her cousin, who introduced it to her."
"Ahhh... so thats it. No, she hasn't been asking, much."
"Well don't worry, we'll be back tomorrow afternoon, so you'll have your peace again."
"It's okay, Sam's been a pleasure to look after. She hasn't been any trouble at all, really."
"Well, thank you Brian. If we need another babysitter for a few hours or days we'll know who to ask."
Goody!
They chatted briefly to my parents before signing off.

I needed an early night, and departed shortly after Sam.
Before long, Sleep was fast approaching. The familiar drowsiness and reluctance to move a muscle told me I'd soon be dreaming about Samantha.
The loud creak from the opening door said I wouldn't be dreaming about her. In the dim light I saw the door open then a small figure that had to be Sam stealthily entered.

"Can I get in?" she asked.
Without a word I opened the top sheet. She climbed into bed and cuddled up next to me.
"You can't stay, you know that?"
"Yes, it's just for now", she replied. Next thing I knew, her hand was on my crotch.
"Can I touch?" she asked.
Bit late to ask.
"If I can do the same?"
The hand vanished, I heard movement then it returned to it's former position.
I pulled my underpants down a bit. She took hold of my cock and started feeling me up. Within moments a hardon was forming, swelling in her hand. When it was fully erect, she moved down towards my balls. Where coarse hair had been, there was now only smooth skin.
"What happened to the hair?" she suddenly asked.
"I shaved it off. Do you like it?"
She whispered that she did, and that it felt better as she continued touching where I loved being touched.
Now I was feeling my way gingerly up her smooth legs. The skin became hotter and hotter the higher I went. She'd lifted her nightgown above her waist, and when I reached her fanny I placed my hand over the entire pubic region. She moaned her approval into my ear.
Unseen but mere inches away in the near pitch black, I heard Samanthas breathing getting louder. She made sounds of approval as I slowly rubbed her crack.

"How do boys make themselves feel good?" she asked out of the blue.
"They start off doing what you're doing, to get hard."
"And then?"
"Let me show you", I said. I found her hand and placed it near the top of my cock, had her grip tightly then got her started on slowly masturbating me. I showed her the sensitive parts of my cock and how to stimulate them. A few times I corrected her hold and technique till she had it spot on.
With her soft hand milking my cock I soon got close to cumming. As much as I wanted to come in her hand and over her fingers I didn't think she'd like that one little bit, so I asked her to stop.
"Why?" she asked.
"I'm just about to come."
"Whats wrong with that?"
"It'll make a mess, and I don't think you'd like it anyway."
"You mean your milk would spurt out?"
"That wasn't in your books. How do you know about that?"
"My friend told me about it."
"She knows an awful lot about these sorts of things. First how to make yourself feel good, then about where to lick a girl, and now this."

Silence.

"Can you keep a secret?"
"You know I can. But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Pause.

"It wasn't my friend, it was my sister. She told me how to make myself feel good. And I watched her do it to her boyfriend without her knowing."
"Everything?"
"No, she won't let him put it in her, I heard her say. What happened was, he licks her down there like you did to me, and then she makes him feel good with her hand. Once they didn't close the door properly, and I watched them. I saw the milky stuff come out and cover her hand."
"What did you think of it?"
"I liked watching it. Can I do the same?"
"Maybe tomorrow, not now. Mum would wonder why if I wash the sheets so soon after I changed my bed."

We started to relax and fall asleep together. Then she began shifting around and changing position.

"Can we move to my bed? Mine is more comfortable", she asked.
"Okay. But I'll have to go back to my own bedroom before the others wake up."

I checked the corridor was empty, then we snuck into her bedroom. She climbed into her bed and I followed suit. We snuggled up together.
She leaned over and kissed my cheek. I turned and returned the kiss, pecking her lips, as my free arm went around her shoulders to cuddle her. She reached up and held my hand. Full contact with her lips followed. Then tongue-in-mouth, down to her neck, the side of the neck, and finally where the neck meets the shoulder, taking extra care not to leave any marks. She giggled madly when I sucked there. Louder still, when I nibbled her ears and blew into them. When I withdrew she attempted the same, smothering my face and neck. I loved it.
Meanwhile, my wandering hand was working its way up her legs again, circling and massaging past her thighs until I reached her pubic mound. Her face was inches from mine, and I could plainly hear every breath she took. It was becoming laboured, her breath on my ear warmer as my fingers edged between her legs and began fondling there.

"Brian?" she asked.

"Is it okay?"
"Could you finish off what you were doing earlier?", she implored.
"Mouth or fingers?"
"Fingers."
I lifted the leg nearest me and put it over my stomach to open her wide, then back between her legs went my hand. I rubbed all around her babysoft warm crack, occasionally slipping a finger along it's length. When she was good and wet I parted her cunt lips with one hand and began rubbing her little hard clitoris.
Immediately she tightened her grip on my hand and moaned. The longer I kept it up, the harder her grip became. Now my fingers were sliding back and forth through her crack and over her clitoris, lubricated by the juices emanating from inside her.
Without warning she tensed, gripped my arm really hard and closed her legs tightly. A low, stifled groan left her throat as she came.
She relaxed. There was a long silence.

"Thank you for doing that, Brian", she whispered into my ear.
I kissed her again.

Soon we started to fall asleep together. I was heading that way faster than she was, and felt the familiar calm overtaking me.
But what was that just touching my ear? Something was crawling over it. A moth? I swatted away Samanthas hand.
"Just checking to see if you're asleep", she said.
I was too far gone to reply, and soon nodded off.
I woke with a jolt to the same crawling sensation on my ear.
"Just checking to see if you're asleep", her voice came out of the dark.
"I was till then."

When she finally did nod off into dreamworld, I discovered another reason why adults don't sleep with kids. They move around LOTS. Whilst completely unaware of what they're doing, they kick, they slap, they knee you in the side, then they push you out of bed.
Barely an hour after climbing in with her I was back in my room.

Dawn. The red twilight glow woke me before the chattering around the breakfast table did. Thanks to that volcano in the Philippines we get nice sunrises and sunsets these days.
And it was shopping day. Being home and all, guess who was volunteered? Moi. I hate shopping.
I rose, showered then dressed and joined the family for breakfast.

"So, he's back, is he?" Dad asked.
"And where did you go off to last night?", my sister Christine asked.
"Huh?"
"Mum wanted to hand you the shopping list in case we left before you out out of bed, but you'd snuck out without saying", she continued.
Her facial expression changed to a smile.
"Oh, I see", she continued. "He went out on a date and didn't want us to know."
Huh?
One by one, everyone else broke out in smiles.
"Know what? I don't know what you're talking about."
"I think you do", she said.
Giggles from all around. What the hell was going on here? I even looked behind me in case someone was playing a silly joke.
"Should we let him out of his misery?" she asked.
That little bitch. She always liked being the master of ceremonies.
"Naaaahhh..." Mum answered. "He'll work it out."
I seriously thought this was all planned out in advance as a joke.
Not until after they'd gone to school and work, did I discover the reason for the mirth. I passed the hallway mirror, and something struck me as a little odd. The red smears on my neck.

SAMANTHA!!!!! In my haste I'd let her give me the biggest hickie of all time!
"We're going shopping after your breakfast, Sam. After that, would you like to go out? A park, a movie...?" I suggested.
"Yes please!" she excitedly replied.
"Good, I could do with a break from this stuff", I indicated with a sweep of my hand the maths notes spread out on the floor.
"What'll we go and see?"
"How about 'The Little Mermaid'?" I suggested.
"Thats supposed to be good. Okay."

Her facial expression changed.

"Eeeeewwww... whats that on your neck?" she asked. Suddenly she clicked.
"Brians got a Love bite!", she taunted.
Grrrr...
"Brians got a Love bite!"

"Are your feet ticklish?" I asked.
"YES!" she loudly replied, her eyes wide, desperately hoping I wasn't about to put her to the test.
Kids are too honest, thats their problem. In a flash I'd wrestled her to the ground, sat on her legs then started tickling her feet.
Instantly she was in hysterics. I gave her about 15 seconds worth then paused.
"Are you sorry for teasing me yet?"
"YES!", she shrieked.
"No you're not."
I started on her sides. Now that got a good reaction. I'd thought tickling her feet was fun. Heh heh.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!" she yelled.
"You will be, after THIS", I said as I made a beeline for her armpits.
She shrieked.
"Look, what are you yelling for?? I haven't started there yet."
"NOOOOOOOO!!!"
Yes. Tickles.
Another pause.
"Weeeelll.... should I stop or not?"
"YEEEEESS!!"
I sat there looking at her, my hands under her arms, hers trying to pull mine away.
"Yeah, you do look kinda sorry now, I suppose I'd better let you go", I finally said.
Just to be nasty, I pulled up her shirt and blew a raspberry on her tummy before letting her up.

"Brians got a Love bite!" echoed in my ear as she ran for her room.
It'll keep.

Soon she re-emerged, but with a difference. She was naked. Not that I minded in the least, but not right now.
"Ummm, hadn't you better put some clothes on?" I suggested.
"Why?" she succinctly replied. Well, that was true. It wasn't like there was anyone to bother her, and I do the same thing when alone.

My will to ignore her and get on with work vanished when she started doing her gymnastic stretching exercises in the lounge, in front of me, still completely naked. I paused to watch.
In the years since school I'd lost much of my flexibility, and could hardly believe my eyes watching Sam casually doing the "splits" on the carpet, then bending sideways to touch her toes. She stood, and slipped back down with her legs moving apart in front and behind until they were flat against the carpet. Then once more she bent forward till she could kiss her leg, a marvellous display of flexibility.

"Could you help me?" she asked.
"... Sure... What do you want me to do?"
"Help me hold my leg up. At the gym we help each other in some of our stretching exercises."

The first such exercise involved her standing up and raising one leg until it was against her chest while I held it there for ten seconds. Then we repeated the effort with the other leg. For another exercise, she sat cross-legged on the floor and had me push her knees to the ground.
I could hardly fail to get a good look at her little pussy, the lips often parting with the stretching, but I didn't know if she simply preferred nudity for her workout in case it was easier, so I tried my best to not get an erection.

"I'll bet you don't dress this way at your school gym."
"No, only at home. It's easier and theres less sweat and smell."
I could see the point there. In ancient Greece most sport was nude, in fact nudity was far more accepted and commonplace. Someone once calculated that if modern athletes were allowed to compete while nude, all sporting records would shortly be broken. Take a tennis player for example. Along with clothes, s/he needs a sweatband otherwise salty sweat will irritate their eyes. Without clothes, cooling would be less of a problem, hence less sweat, and no band needed.
"What exercises do you do in the gym?" she asked when we'd finished.
"Shall I show you?"
"Yes, alright."
"Lie on the floor on your back."
"Promise you're not going to tickle me."
"I promise I won't tickle you."
She lay down and I pushed my arms under her back.

"Why don't you take your clothes off first, you silly!" she protested.

So I shed my clothes and pushed my hands underneath. She jerked, thinking I was going to tickle. I reassured her I wasn't.
"Keep still now. Trust me, okay? I won't drop you."
One hand was positioned on the middle of her back just above her bottom, the other just below her shoulders. The center of balance of the human body is around the small of the back, so my stronger arm was nearest her bottom.
"Now let your legs relax when I lift you."
She did, and I lifted her off the floor, past my shoulders and toward the ceiling. Easy! She shrieked as she found herself looking closeup at the ceiling.
"Stay still, I won't drop you."
Back down to eye height.
"Okay?" I asked, looking into her eyes. She nodded.
20 times in a row I lifted her before my arms got tired. Sam found being used as a bar-bell a novel experience, and giggled throughout once she got used to it.
"Is that what you do at the gym?" she asked when I set her down.
"More or less, with variations, some of which are supposed to strengthen you but don't seem to give much except pain."

She soon wandered off, and I got back to work. In an hour I'd give myself a break, get dressed and take Sam to the Supermarket.
Sam returned, and sat next to me. Then her hand slipped under my books, edging toward...

I stopped studying, and looked at her with a grin on my face. Her smug look met mine.
"Thats rude, you know", I pointed out.
She giggled, and her hand began creeping up my leg.
I was trying to order my cock to behave and not go hard, but it wouldn't obey. No hiding it from Sam, she placed her hand directly on my cock and began fondling.
"Can I finish what I started last night?"
"You're sure?"
"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to."
Study forgotten, I pushed my books aside and joined her on the same sofa I'd eaten her out on yesterday.
"It looks much nicer without hair", she commented as she started feeling me up again. By now I was fully hard.
"Just start doing what you were doing last night. Keep touching my balls with one hand while you pull on my rod."
She happily obliged, and before long was giving an enthusiastic handjob. A few times I corrected her hold and got her to rub the head of my cock with the palm of her free hand.
I was approaching the brink of orgasm.
"You can stop now if you don't want to see the rest. I'm just about to come."
"I want to see it. I want to see it ALL, like my sister does."
The last thing I looked at before I came was her soft untanned pubic mound, then at her hand furiously wanking my cock, then her unblinking eyes intently watching my privates. The first spurt of hot come landed on my chest. She shrieked and her eyes went wide, but she didn't stop. The next few covered her little hand as I groaned loudly. She was giggling almost as much as when I'd been tickling her.
"Keep going.... now slow right down, thats it... get every last drop out... You can stop now, just hold it for awhile."

"Did that hurt?" she asked when we'd calmed down.
"It couldn't have felt better, thanks."
"It sounded like it hurt."
"Believe me, it felt good, Sam."
"My sisters boyfriend wasn't like that."
"It's been a long time since somebody did it for me, thats why it was real good."
"Do guys always look like that?"
"Often, yes. So do you."
"I DO NOT!!", she protested loudly, letting go of my cock like a hot coal. It plopped down onto the mess on my stomach.
"Oh yes you do!"
"NO I DON'T!"
Rather than risk upsetting her, I let her have her way. Besides, how could I prove my point?

"Can we have McDonalds for Lunch again?" she asked, grinning.
"Where did you learn that trick?" I replied.
"What trick?"
"Your sister? Did she tell you to milk a guy then ask for what you want while he feels good?"
"No, but I'll have to remember that."

Oh dear. What HAVE I just taught her??

I had a quick shower to clean off the sweat and sperm, especially as I hadn't had my morning shower yet.
Now I learned another fact of nature. Elephants never forget, and neither does Samantha.
The shower door jerked open, and a cupful of freezing water splashed over me in the midst of the nice hot water.
"AAARRGGHHHH!!"
"Thats for tickling me earlier."
Hey, neat! I love a bit of fire in a girl. God, I almost pitied her future boyfriend, he was going to have to work hard to keep up!

Shopping. I hate it. Kids love pushing trolleys around and Sam was no exception, so that made it a little more bearable. She'd chosen to wear one of those skintight shorts a lot of girls do these days; naturally it outlined her round soft little bottom and her long slim legs. I like them better than schoolgirl dresses, less left to the imagination.... Back to reality, Brian. Stop perving on Sam, you've work to do, the little voice in my head was saying.

The aisles passed slowly. The queue at checkout was even slower. Why do people have to shop on Thursdays? Everyone shops Thursdays. But no, it HAD to be done today, Mum had said.

I couldn't wait to get out of that place and back to my Car. We unloaded the goodies and packed them away before driving to the early session of "The little Mermaid".
It was a neat movie! I'd love to have had a girlfriend to watch it with, but I'm yet to meet my future Mrs Foster. But there was no hurry, it'd happen.
Like they say, when you least expect it, expect it. That'd proven very true in Sams case, but it wasn't QUITE what I'd had in mind...
Sam was really enthusiastic about it, and for a treat I even took her to her beloved Chuckdonalds for lunch again. That was the very least I could do, after she'd made my naughtiest dreams come true. It was just a pity this was our last afternoon alone.

Back home again, we chatted further about the arrangement her sister and boyfriend had, taking care of each others tension in a safe, pregnancy worry free and enjoyable way whenever they needed it, and she suggested the same. I promptly agreed.
I told her that someday I'd have a girlfriend closer to my own age, but I wouldn't forget her. When we could, I'd be more than than happy to relieve her "tension" until she found a partner. She agreed.

"Could we start now?" she asked.
"You mean, make you feel good?"
She nodded.
"Ok. Wait here. Don't take your clothes off yet."
This would be the last time for awhile I'd get to eat her out, so it had to be special. I grabbed my sheepskin blanket and Christines (What she didn't know wouldn't bother darling little sis), the pillow off my bed and both of hers, and a towel. Then I spotted something that was REALLY going to make my day... and brought it along wrapped up in a sheepskin so Sam wouldn't see it till too late.
Quickly I set everything up on the Dining table while Sam watched. Sheepskins went down first, then the towel. A pillow for her head and the other two for arm rests.
Sam was watching the proceedings, and now it was her turn.
I completely undressed Sam in the lounge one item at a time, rubbing her nipples as the shirt came off, then putting my hand into her undies to feel her up before removing them too.
Now I scooped her up into my arms and carried her to the inpromptu bed on the dinner table and arranged her on it. I lifted her legs open and spread them as wide as possible before setting to work with the tongue and fingers in her crack...
Long minutes later she was nearing another orgasm.
When I sensed she was about to come, I reached down and found the Polaroid camera where I'd left it. Now came the tricky part. I pulled back as she started cumming, taking care to leave a hand on her privates as she closed her legs tightly. Her head tilted back as she groaned loudly. Now. Aim, Focus, and... <FLASH>

Jolted out of her stupor, she stared in amazement as I pulled the polaroid from the Camera.
"Don't worry, I'm just proving something to you. I'll destroy the photo in a minute."
When sufficient time had passed, I removed the backing and gave the photo to Sam, who was sitting up on the edge of the table.
The photo was amazing! Her legs were closed over my hand with my fingers reaching up to caress her mound, while her facial expression could be interpreted as a look of either agony or extreme pleasure. Yet another reason not to keep it, but now I'd proven my point to Samantha.

"There you go. You see, you look just like I did", I pointed out.
She shook her head in amazement and studied it for a long time before handing the photo back. Out came the box of matches. The photo and it's backing quickly disappeared in an ashtray.
Sam looked thoughtful.
"Could you take more photos of me, rude ones I mean?"
"We could, there are more photos left in the camera, but you know we couldn't keep them."
We discussed the details for awhile, and she agreed to put her top and dress on to do a slow strip for the Camera.

We started off with her sitting on the couch looking innocent. <Click> She held her dress up to show her white panties. <Click>. Standing up with the dress held right up. <Click> Panties and t-shirt only. <Click> A closeup of her crotch with her hand in her panties. <Click> Panties partway down, just enough to show the top of her crack. <Click> Kneeling on the floor over the couch reading a book, innocently showing her round white bottom and the thin slit of her fanny. <Click> Same position, but she's looking around as I fondled her bottom. Panties still partway down, but she's standing with her legs apart, stretching the material. <Click> Standing there naked from the waist down, legs held wide. <Click> Moving in for an extreme closeup of her crack. <Click> Completely naked now, standing with a grin on her face. <Click> Sitting on the couch with her long smooth legs held wide open. <Click> She's holding her vagina lips open, displaying the innermost pink recesses to the camera. <Click> Now she's grinning at me over the Carnation I'd inserted into her vagina. <Click> Still in the same position, but now with my tongue deep in her crack and a relaxed look on her face. This last photo took 4 attempts to get right, considering I had to hold the Camera behind my head.
When I'd finished giving her another juicy orgasm, we examined the photos at our leisure. Back and forth went the photos as we admired our handiwork, until it was nearing time for my family to return.
Reluctantly I put a match to them. Keep just one?? Nope. Take no chances. This was evidence that would send us both literally to hell. They reduced to ashes, which I tipped onto the lawn and stamped on. Not even identifiable ashes.

Sooner rather than later her time here ended.
Luckily she lived nearby, so copying her sisters arrangement wasn't a problem. We just had to be careful that she actually brought some work over for me to help her with. Sometimes we actually got around to looking at it; after giving her little fanny the licking she craved.

Eventually I finished my degree and got a job in the Lands and Survey department with the Cartographers. You'd be amazed how often maps have to be corrected. Even in these days of satellite photos, the publicly available ones only go down to a hundred yards resolution. Finer details require on-situ work. Some skilled trampers regularly report corrections required in the position of huts, creeks and so on. Usually a surveyor would be posted, which meant long days working in pairs out in the middle of nowhere. This desirable aspect of the work is rotated, so before long I was back in the big smoke, in the mapmaking dept where the HARD work is done.

And Samantha was growing up. The first tiny tufts of pubic hair and the subtle transformation of pre-teen buds to tiny breasts took me by surprise. She didn't like the new hair at all, and as I half expected her to try, she attacked it with scissors only to have it return together with maddening itching. I saw the reddened mound where she'd been scratching and reassured her it was perfectly normal and that she'd get used to it, but she wished it didn't have to be that way. Month by month I watched the hair expand to cover more and more of her crack.
By now she'd long gotten used to my finger inside her. She quite liked the feeling of it probing her gooey vagina while I licked her clit. Just before she came I could insert a second finger without discomfort, producing faint squishy noises, the sound of sex, as they emerging coated with vaginal lubricant.
It wouldn't be long before she could fit 'something larger', but I'd decided that wasn't for me as I wanted her to be proud to be virgin. Also, the earlier a girl starts having intercourse, the higher the risk of cervical cancer in later years. If I took pleasure that way now, it might just end up taking her life in the long term. Uh huh, no way.

To make things different for both of us, I kept introducing variations. One time I got her to kneel astride the bed, then lifted her dress, pulled her panties aside and licked her to a juicy orgasm without removing any item of clothing.
A few times I helped her into a handstand position for a short time. Naturally her dress fell away, and I pulled her panties aside for more of the same.

I always loved sucking, licking and rubbing her nipples, even before she developed breasts. They'd stiffen and go erect from the attention. I'd take ages about it, which she liked.
"Why do you like mine so much?", she asked one day.
"What do you mean?"
"Mine aren't big like girls are supposed to have."
"Says who?"
"All the models you see have big ones."
"Now hold on, Sam. You're only 11. Don't try comparing yourself to grown up women, there isn't a comparison. Yours may or may not grow as large as others when you get older, theres no way to tell. Be proud of what you are, regardless of what anyone may say. Don't try to be something you're not. No matter how big or small they'll end up, I'll still think you're beautiful and so will lots of other guys. And no matter what size, they'll still be sensitive and we'll both still like me touching them."
While talking, I was rubbing both nipples with my palms. The cool air and the stimulation was puckering her nipples into little raised bumps.
"See what I mean?"
She smiled. Point proven.
I pulled up her dress.

When she was 11 and started going to Intermediate, she discovered the 'joys' of Homework. Maths and the sciences were her worst subjects and she hated having so much of it clogging up her time; which made regular visits to our house a necessity.
And I discovered the joys of schoolgirl uniforms. Or rather, taking them off. Just inside my bedroom door would be her shoes, schoolbag and jersey. A step closer to the bed would be her panties, and on the bed itself would be Samantha, schoolgirl dress above her waist, shirt buttons undone, my tongue and fingers frantically exploring and probing her wet crack.
Afterwards I'd put her panties back onto her and watch the damp spot spread across the crotch. A few times I decided to be a little kinky and pocket them instead, then accompany her home with only the dress covering her privates, and push the panties into her schoolbag when we reached her house.

On the rare occasions when Sam and I had plenty of time and didn't have to worry about noise, I played little games while we made love.
For instance, one day as she was splayed on the bed while I ate her out, she suddenly did something she'd never done before, when she leaned over and grabbed my erect cock, still covered by my jeans.
"Take them off, I want to hold it."
"Not now."
"Why not?"
"That'd be rude."
She burst out laughing.
"Don't be Silly!!", she said, hitting my arm.
"Yuk!" I responded.
"What?"
"It's horrible."
"What is?"
"Theres a wet spot here. I'll have to get a towel and dry it off."
"What? Oh..."
She clicked, and hit my arm again, harder than last time.
"Don't be horrible!", she said, grinning.
I stopped licking and fingering her.
"Come on!"
I didn't move.
"Stop being horrible!!"
Whatever you say, Sam. Back to licking her fanny.
My free hand wandered up to the buds on her chest and began rubbing and fondling all around, then it slipped down to her side and started tickling.
She slapped it away.
"Don't be horrible any more, or I won't make you spurt!", she finally threatened.
Time to behave.

"You've been a naughty girl, haven't you?" I said another such time when she came to me for a good licking.
"No I haven't!" she protested.
"Over my knee, Sam", I said as I pulled her toward the bed.
I bent her over my knee, lifted her dress and pulled her panties down to the knees. Now I started teasing, rubbing around her exposed fanny before penetrating the slit and rubbing her clitoris. My free hand alternated between holding her firmly in this position and fondling her soft round little bottom.
"You're a bad girl, aren't you?"
"NO!" (giggles)
(Smack!) went my hand lightly on one little bare buttock. She shrieked and kicked madly when I briefly tickled her sides.
"YES!", she tried. (louder giggles)
(Smack!) went my hand on the other buttock.
"I said yes, but you spanked me anyway!"
(Smack!)
"And thats for being rude. You don't even have panties on."
Mad giggling.
I withdrew my fingers and reached underneath to approach her slit from the front of her body, so I didn't accidentally jab my finger into her clitoris from the back. From my perspective I could see wetness spreading to mat her pubes and lubricate my finger, which was half buried lengthwise in her crack. The flesh around my finger was moulding to accompany it as I pressed on her sensitive clit and swirled around to explore every part of her crevice and reveal bright pink innermost skin.
She moaned softly as she started to feel really good.
"Are you going to be a good girl from now on?"
"NO!"
(Smack!)
"You can talk. I can feel your hardon against my tummy."
(Smack!) (Smack!) (Smack!) (Smack!)
"You're not supposed to know about such things."
"You taught me."
"You watched those boys through the peephole at school."
(Smack!)
Now my fingers were flying through the damp folds of her fanny, lubricated by copious vaginal juices. The erect clitoris was being rubbed incessantly and you could see the results; she was panting and shifting her weight around on my knee as she neared an orgasm.
"This is the kind of spanking I wish I'd gotten when I was naughty," she commented.
(Smack!)
"You said it, not me", I replied.
etc.
Before long the combination of mild humiliation and clitoral stimulation made her come harder than she'd done for a long time.

Just as I'd warned Sam, one day I met a very suitable girl closer to my age, and Karen and I became engaged a year later. Not long after then, our relationship developed to the point it wasn't necessary for Sam to 'take care' of my needs any more, but I was still more than happy to take care of hers until she found a partner for herself.

One day after Sam and I had made love and were cuddling on the bed, her little hard breasts poking into my bare chest as she lay on me, she told me that she was being teased in the school changing room about the hairs growing under her arms.
I said that that was one thing she'd have to get used to taking care of, and if she liked I could show...
A brainwave hit me. She still hadn't accepted the rest of the new hair on her body, and I suggested shaving it all off until she could do it for herself. She promptly agreed.
A few nudist parents shave both their boys and girls pubes and underarms to reduce the shock and embarrassment of the resulting changes and help them through adolescence, and I don't see any harm in it so long as the kids are happy to have it done. Of the two, I find underarms trickier. I got fed up of hairs being caught up and yanked by some weight exercises at the gym, and started taking care of them rather than put up with it. The hairs grow in 3 different directions on two sides as you hold you arm up, so shaving there is a minor skill in itself.
From the bathroom I grabbed a fresh towel, my razor, Dads beard trimmer, liquid soap, a cloth and a cup of warm water.
I opened the towel on my bed and directed Samantha to lie on it with her legs open.

"Say goodbye to all that hair", I said as I switched on the beard trimmer. Starting at the top and working across, I shaved the still incompletely formed triangle. Then right down between her legs, nuzzling up to her cunt lips, not leaving a single hair. Hair fell in a continuous stream to accumulate on the towel.
And that wasn't all I was doing. I hadn't reckoned on the effect of the vibrations all round her privates. The newly re-exposed lips glistened with moistness.
Using a corner of the towel I wiped away the loose strands, leaving Sams mound and fanny as bare as the day I'd first seen her.
But not bare enough. The trimmer left bristles, and I wanted smooth skin like mine.
So I soaped her mound and all around her fanny, then set to work with the razor. Whilst holding tight the skin I was working on, I started at the top of her mound and moved down. Totally smooth skin was left behind, not even baby fluff. When I reached her crack I had to take hold of one side of her lips to keep the skin tight, thereby opening her very damp little crack to my attention.
Now I got her to flip over onto her stomach and similarly shaved right up to her little rosebud anus.
Finished. I dried her skin for her. Samantha's privates looked just like when I'd first seen them years before. Smooth. Young. Wet and willing. The look of surprise and delight on her face when she checked my handiwork made it all worthwhile. She didn't find a single hair or bristle.
Last was her underarms. I had to be really careful to avoid any finger contact as I knew that tickled her like crazy.

Samantha had reason to visit every two or three days; the perfect compromise between irritating the sensitive skin by shaving her genital area too often, and the hairs getting scratchy on my lips and chin.
For convenience I shave myself in the shower, but I only once ever managed this with Sam; climbing in and kneeling in front of her, soaping up her privates and shaving them as she leaned back against the wall for support while I held one leg high to allow access to every nook and cranny.

After whats happened these last few years, I don't have any more fantasies.

They all came true.

Last modified (12/24/96 15:39:16) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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