Sitting and Angel is pure fiction, a product of my imagination and nothing else. This is a story about the unlikely happening of a grown man falling in love with an 8 year old girl; it didn’t happen and the people involved do not exist and the places are made-up, as well. Please enjoy this story and please, do not try to put yourself in this situation, because a word of caution: a moment’s pleasure could lead to a lifetime of torment. Frenchie 

Story codes: F, M, g*, Mg, Ped, Sex

Sitting the Angel
By
Frenchie

This is a “Hollywood Story”, because it happened in Hollywood, California when I lived in a small apartment on Sierra Vista, right off of Western Boulevard, in Hollywood. There were four bungalows, side by side and I lived in the second one from the street. It was beautiful, though I don’t mean aesthetically, because it looked like all the rest; needed painting and some repair. No, I mean it was nice and quiet, out of the way with no foot traffic except the residents; it suited me fine, because I was a writer.

In the fourth bungalow, two to the right of me, lived an actress and her daughter; Rebbecca and little Becky. I say little, because she was small for her age and beautiful beyond belief. She had shoulder length golden brown hair that sparkled brightly in the sun; the face of an angel, milk and honey complexion with a little turned up nose and sensuous, pouting lips and a body that any girl would be envious of.

We became friends when I moved in, because Becky was outside playing “jump-rope” with one of her little friends from school. They saw me as I was moving my meager belongings into my apartment, which didn’t take long. As I was making the last trip and almost to the open door, a few of the folders started to slide out and I dropped a whole bunch of them on the sidewalk and Becky came running to help me pick them up.

“Can I help you, mister?” She asked, reaching for the contents of the folders that had spilled out.

As she approached me and was bending down below me, I got a glimpse down her blouse of two beautiful little knobs of budding little titties. I went weak in my knees at the sight and almost swooned. I was speechless. I imagined her to be between 8 and 10 years old and I was irrevocably in love. 

I did have presence of mind to go down and start picking up some folders to be able to keep my eyes on that glorious sight a little longer; oh, they were beautiful. Finally, I was able to stammer.

“Thank you,” I said and then added, “Angel.”

She smiled an embarrassed smile as she rose.

“You don’t know how much I appreciate this.” I said, thanking her.

As we stood up and I started into the apartment; she followed as I hoped she would and I wished that she would become a frequent visitor. She looked so magnificent standing there with my folders in blue jeans and a pink pull-over blouse that said, “Angel.”
“Here, let me help you with those.” I said as I took the folders from her arms and placed them on the table.

“I’m Frenchie,” I said, by way of introduction. “And, what’s your name?”

“My name is Becky Housman.” She replied. “And I live in the end cottage with my mother.

She paused as if she didn’t know what to say next. “And I’ve got to go. Bye.” And she ran out of the door.

All of a sudden, I was alone; my bird of paradise had flown away. Then I knew that I must take care and not rush things, but I must get this relationship to mature and blossom into something beautiful.

I spent the rest of the afternoon putting things away; unpacking boxes and generally tidying things up. I took a shower and had supper and got dressed for bed. All the time, thoughts Becky ran through my mind; what would it be like to embrace her, to hold her in my arms and kiss those sweet, soft, delicious lips. Just dreams, I thought.

The next day, I set up my computer—my pen and ink—my monitor and my printer—my paper—then I started a story. I didn’t get far because my thoughts always turned to Becky.

Three or four days went by and Becky and her friend would play on the sidewalk in front of the apartments, but they never got as close as they were the day I moved in. I tried to write, but it always led to nowhere; I would sit there thinking, hoping a thought would come to me, when…

Knock, knock. I was startled back to reality. Someone’s at the door.

“Yes, I’m coming.” Looked though the curtains and I saw a young woman; I opened the door. A nice looking well dressed lady of about 30 was standing at the door.

“Yes, may I help you?” I said.

The lady smiled and asked, “Are you Frenchie?”

“Yes.” I answered.

“I’m Rebbecca Davis, Becky’s mother.

“Oh hi, won’t you come in?” I asked, leading the way to my living room. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Becky is a very bright and helpful young lady. Some things I was carrying slipped out from my grasp and Becky ran over to help me, but then she ran off.”

“She’s shy that way, in front of strangers.” She offered.

“Won’t you have a seat? Can I get you some refreshments; Coffee; Coke? I asked.

“Oh no, I’m fine. I just stopped by to welcome you to the neighborhood. I see you’re home a lot, what kind of work do you do?” 

“I’m a writer most of the time, but since I moved in here, I haven’t been able to write a thing. I thought this would be an ideal setting; quiet, no traffic and peaceful.”

“Maybe the change of moving hasn’t caught up to you yet.” She smiled.

“What’s your racket? I said, cheerily.

“That’s just what it is, a racket. I’m a freelance actress." She said. 

“Thought you looked familiar; you do commercials on television?”

“That’s me.” She said, proudly. “I’m doing some commercials for Chrysler that will wrap up in two or three days.”

“That’s quite exciting.” I replied.

“It pays the bills." She said.

Knock, knock. There in the open doorway stood Becky in her blue jeans, a tank-top and tennis shoes. I walked to the door and let her in. She was even more beautiful than I remembered.

“Hello sweetheart, I am just about to leave and fix us some supper.” Rebbecca told Becky.

“Wait,” I interrupted. “I haven’t had supper yet. Why don’t you let me treat you both to dinner and we can get to know each other. Besides, I’ve been cooped up here in the apartment for the past three or four days and I’m getting cabin fever.”

“That sounds like fun!” Becky exclaimed. “Can we, mommy?”

“I don’t know…”

Rebbecca began to say but I interrupted again. “That settles it, we’re going to have dinner at Lawry's on La Cienega Boulevard in the heart of West Hollywood. You guys go and get ready and I’ll meet you, on the street at the blue Chevrolet Impala in 15 minutes.”

They left and as soon as the door was closed I took a deep breath and thought, ‘This is too good to be true.’ I hurried and washed my face, changed into a casual outfit and combed my hair and splashed on some after shave lotion. And, I was out the door to have a date with a little angel.

The tab for dinner was $45.00 and some change, but it was well worth the price, because I learned a lot about those two fantastically beautiful, charming women. Rebbecca was 28 and single; her second husband, Becky’s father, was killed in an auto accident about six years ago and he left them both well off with insurance. Rebbecca kept the name of her first husband because she was established as an actress with that name. Rebbecca worked when she was offered a good assignment and made good money at freelancing. And Becky was 9 and a half and liked to draw.   

We saw each other, regularly and went out for dinner from time to time and Becky and Georgia, her little playmate, came over to the apartment and did their homework on the living room floor. I had a stock of cookies and milk for the girls and when they were through with their homework and they watched a little television or played out front. When summer vacation came at the end of May, Georgia moved to another state leaving Becky without a friend to play with. Though it wasn’t the same as having a playmate her age, I became her friend

I had gotten so used to Becky being around, that I became relaxed in my choice of attire in her presence and since it was summer and I had no air-conditioner, I often went without a shirt and pants, on occasions. She never objected or mentioned anything about it.

One day in mid July, I got a call from Rebbecca, asking me if Becky could stay with me for a few days because she was offered a job on location it Utah and she had to tell them right then if she could accept it. I told her, of coarse, if she wanted to go, that Becky could stay with me. She said that she would fill me in on the particulars and we could discuss the arraignments, when she got home.

I was trembling when I hung the phone up; literally shaking, I was so nervous, excited and very happy—to have my little angel sleep with me in my house. I could hardly believe my good fortune.

I drove Rebbecca to LAX on Sunday morning and she was scheduled to work Monday and Tuesday and possibly Wednesday and come back Wednesday or Thursday. She gave me $200.00 dollars for food and necessities and the key to their apartment, in case Becky needed anything. 

Becky got in the front seat when Rebbecca left us and the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks—I was nervous, happy and weak all over again—sitting next to that heavenly creature that was going to share my time and space for a little while.

Then, to my surprise, Becky slid over and sat beside me. Without responding, I raised my arm and put it over her shoulder and hugged her. The feeling of her warm body next to mine was thrilling and it felt so right; it gave me confidence that something good was going to happen. C’est la vie

When we arrived home, I opened her door to help her out of the car; she extended her arm just like a lady and smiled a beautiful smile. “Madam?” I said, smiling. She giggled. I held her hand as we walked to the apartment.

Standing in the living room, facing each other, wondering what the other was thinking, I was the first one to speak.

“Becky.” I said, solemnly. “I love you angel.”

She approached me and put her little arms around me and hugged me.

“I love you too.” She said, softly.

I reached down and picked her up in my arms. She wrapped her legs around my body and put her arms around my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. Instinctively, she bent her head to the right and slowly opened her mouth and closed her eyes. Our lips met and I almost came when her soft, sensuous lips met mine. Our tongues searched and penetrated the depths of our mouths; our saliva’s mixed, seemingly making us, one. My erection was complete and I grew weak. We pressed our heads hard against the other and they writhed side to side; our tongues lost in their searches. We were in heaven; my dream had come true; she was in my arms at last, passionately kissing me.

We had kissed for at least 10 minutes. I broke the kiss because my arms and legs were weak and I wouldn’t be able tom hold her much longer. I put her down and she leaned against my body, hugging me. I put my arms on her shoulders and pulled her ever so close to me. We both were breathing heavily.

Eventually, I said, in a soft, weak voice. “Let’s sit on the couch and cool down, what do you say?”

She murmured. “OK.”

When we got to the couch, I turned and plopped down, bouncing a bit. As she approached me, she saw my protrusion and smiled. She sat down adjacent to me, so it was in full view to her. It was straight up my stomach and the oil had seeped through the fabric of my trousers, seemingly, making a stain. It looked a lot longer than it really was. 

“Does it hurt?” She asked, looking at it, curiously.

“It will, if it’s not attended to.” I said, matter-of-factly.

“What has to be done to it?” She asked as if she were concerned.

“Well, to tell the truth, sweetheart, I have to pee and that will relieve part of the pressure.” And, I got up and headed for the bathroom.

She was sitting just as I left her and I sat down where I was. I had tucked “Possible” where he was before I got up, but he was half the size and wetter that ever.

“That must have been a lot of pressure, because he’s a lot smaller.” She said.

“Let’s not worry about him for a while, come over hear and give me a kiss.” I ordered.

I didn’t have to say it twice; she was on my lap and in my face almost immediately with her mouth open and eyes closed. I held her tight. I held her shapely little butt and caressed her as we kissed, passionately. Our tongues explored each other’s mouths and the taste of her saliva was like an elixir from heaven. Her hair smelled like a perfume form the gods. We held our embrace for at least 15 minutes. I was delirious; my head was spinning and I felt weak all over. We broke apart and I held her to my chest; we were both breathing, heavily. I didn’t ever want this to end.

We kissed some more and she had to go to the bathroom, also. I got up and fixed myself a cup of coffee and sat down on the couch to wait for my little angel. 

‘This is too good to be true,’ I thought, ‘and we’ve got at least two and maybe three days to be in each other’s arms.’  “Possible” twitched at the thought.

Becky came back and sat down next to me, looking down at my privates. I asked her if she wanted something to drink and she said she didn’t. We cuddled on the couch for a while and pretty soon we were lying in each other’s arms; kissing madly. We writhed together and pretty soon Becky rolled off of me and stroked my swollen member.

“Does it hurt, now?” She asked.

“Yes.” I said. “Why don’t you pull him out so he can be free.”

Her eyes lit up as she tried to unzip my fly. She got it opened and then fished around trying to find a way out of my underwear. I smiled at her frustration, but I helped her get it out.

“Wow!” She exclaimed. “It’s so big!”

She looked at it a while and then asked. “Can I touch it?”
“Of course, go ahead, fell it and play with it; it likes to be played with.”

As she began touching and feeling me, I moved her around so I could get at her crotch. She didn’t have a belt on, so I unzipped her fly and pulled her pants down, exposing a pair of white nylon panties trimmed in lace, with a little satin bow, right below her cute little navel. My heart jumped at the sight. 

I sat up and pulled a pillow behind me, so I could pull her closer to me and I could rub her little flat stomach and maybe feel her little cunt. I rubbed her stomach between her hip bones in long, slow movements, up and down, and every now and then touching the top of her cunt with my fingers. Soon, I went down with my fingers, deep into her cunt and it was soaking wet. As I concentrated on her cunt, I became wetter, also and our breathing became labored and rough.

I pushed the pillow aside, lying down, I pulled her on top of me and looked into her eyes and asked. “Do you want to go lay down on the bed; we would be much more comfortable there.”

She nodded yes and we got up and walked to the bedroom, undressing as we went.

She left her panties on, I guess from embarrassment, but she didn’t have a bra on, she didn’t need one, they were just beautiful little “Flea bites.”

I climbed on to the bed and she followed, lying across me, with her head level with mine. I met her with open arms and we embraced and fell into another, glorious kiss. For the first time I had full access to her divinely shaped heavenly body and I took advantage of it. My hands roamed all over and up and down and inside; feeling her beautiful bubble butt, her divinely slim waist, her deliciously, enticing little buds of breast; I was in heaven; no doubt.

I rolled her over so that we could change vantage points and I rubbed her clit through the filmy panties and it was wetter than ever. I eventually reached inside of her panties and put my fingers on the entrance the place of dreams. I brushed them over the hairless orifice and she began breathing deep and rubbing my cock like an expert. We were both breathing heavily with jagged breathes. Our lips met and we kissed while we positioned ourselves so that our privates were adjacent to each other. She thrust her panty clad pussy hard against my pelvic bone and I ground my prick into hers. My god, she was hot!   

The sun was setting. We had spent a whole afternoon at love-making and it was wonderful. Could this really be happening?

“What do you say; we take a break and catch our breaths. We are going to have two or three days with each other, there’s no use in wearing ourselves out right away.” I said.

Reluctantly, she agreed and we broke apart, lying, side by side, out of breath. She rolled over me and hugged me and I hugged her back. I loved this girl so much; I didn’t want this to ever end.

I suggested that we take a shower and I would order pizza for supper and then we cuddle and watch some television. She liked the idea, but she would have to go home to get the clothes she had packed for her stay with me. We dressed and went to her cottage and retrieved her things and came home and into the shower. 
We undressed again and this time she took off everything. She looked at me and smiled a beautiful smile and I melted. God how this angel looked; I just wanted to hold her and feel her for the rest of my life.

I asked her if she wanted a shower or a bath and she said bath, so I ran the bath and put some bath salts in the water to make the water slippery and smooth. Then I got in and helped her in. She straddled me again and put her arms around my shoulder and we kissed. I pet her hair and rubbed her back as our tongues wound around our mouths. I immediately got an erection that pushed against her stomach.

She giggled. “That tickles!”

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“Your thing is getting big again.” She said.

“Well, what are we going to do about it?” I answered.

She sat back, with it between she and I. She giggled again and took it in her small little hands and stroked it, up and down and it started oozing oil, what some people call, pre-cum, which lubricated in her hand and her hands being so soft, acted like a pussy was wrapped around it. Her expert ministration would have made me cum in short order, so I asked her to stop.

“Does it hurt?” She asked.

‘No, honey, but if you kept that up it would have erupted all over the place and we wouldn’t want that, because it would be messy.”   

“Erupt? How would it erupt?”

“Well, you see, in the tip end of it, there’s a little hole where white stuff comes shooting out, very fast and it’s sticky and slimy and that’s what makes babies. It’s called, “Cum””

“Cum?” She said.

“Yes, the man shoots the cum into his lover and she gets pregnant and has a baby.” I told her. 

“Didn’t they teach you that in sex education?” I asked.

“No, we haven’t had sex education in my school, yet.” She replied.

“Well, I’ll teach you what I know and that way you’ll be ahead of the class.” I said.

“Come on, let’s get out of here and get some pizza and watch some television.”

“I don’t want to watch television.” She grumbled.

“No?” I asked. “What do you want to do?”

“You know.” She teased.

Well, we got out of the tub, dressed for bed and I ordered pizza. We ate and turned out the lights and retired to the bedroom. All the time I was drinking in her beauty and she was looking at me and we were both were falling in love.

I pulled the covers down and climbed in bed and reached for a book in the head of the bed and settled down as if to read. The poor thing looked so forlorn as if somebody had taken her toys away. I put the book back and held her tight against me.

“Angel, I love you and we will do whatever you want.” I said. “Do you understand?” And I kissed her on the forehead and brushed her hair down.

She retaliated, by tickling me under the arms and I started tickling her and we were both laughing very hard. It really felt good to let my hair down and have some fun for a change. Finally, both of us being exhausted, we lay in each other’s arms and rested.

“Do you really love me?” She asked.

“Oh, my darling, if you only knew how much you have affected my life; I think about you constantly: morning, noon and night. There’s not anytime, of the day or night, that I am not thinking about you.” I said, seriously. “My only wish is to spend my life in your arms.”

She hugged me strongly. We kissed and kissed and hugged each other and finally we were so worked up that we shed our clothes and lay naked on top of the covers, exploring each other’s body. We were both soaking wet.

My penis is not what I would call large, but average to small, judging from the pictures I have seen in porn magazines, so I was going to attempt mounting Becky, with a little tutoring on my part.

“OK, sugar.” I said softly. “Are you ready to make love with me?”
“Oh, yes.” She said, softly. “I want you all the way inside of me; I want to be yours, completely.”

I positioned myself next to her and held my swollen prick against her soft pussy lips and rubbed it up and down. She turned against me, helping to guide my prick into her pussy. I rubbed back and forth and pushed in every now and then, helping to lubricate her soaked pussy. After a while, when I thought it was ready to go inside, I rolled on to my back and helped her to straddle me and sit on my prick, which she readily did.

I told her not to rush it because it would hurt some at the beginning but then, after a while, it would feel real good. I had taken a towel to bed beforehand, because I knew she was a virgin.

She pushed down and then came out and tried again, and I cautioned her not to try and take it all at once. She pushed in and came out and in and out and it was going in a little further as we went. I spread her pussy apart with my hands as she pushed down; little by little it was going inside her tight little pussy.

“Ow…” She said, sharply. “Unh.” She grunted.

Her hymen had broken. I told her to stop at that point and relax because the hard part was over. She rested against my chest, leaving my penis partially embedded in her pussy. I stroked her hair and we caressed each other. Then, I asked if she was ready to go all the way and she jumped with joy. Again, I cautioned her to go slow, because if she hurt herself, it would be all over until she healed.

Still, sitting on top of my prick, she pushed down and came up and down and up and I spread her pussy lips, helping widen the passage inside. My prick was slowly going in and was only about an inch inside and I had seven more inches to go. 

We were about ready to give it up, when all of a sudden she took about five inches all at once.

“Oh!” She said. “It’s in!” And she smiled.

“Oh my god,” I cooed. She was so tight that I couldn’t believe the feeling.

She bent over and kissed me, a big sloppy kiss, smiling the whole while.

I let her do the work for a while until the whole package was delivered and I sat back and enjoyed the very tight ride. God, her pussy was the best I have ever had; tight, smooth and sensuous. If I died right now, I would have died a happy man.

Becky was enjoying herself, also. She had a serious face; possibly thinking about all that was going on and feeling like she had never felt before. Slowly, she went up and down, backward and forward, grinding it in and taking it out with feeling. Oh, god.
The package had been delivered well and was all inside of her precious little cunt and she was working it like a veteran, with all of the right moves; she was rotating her hips backwards and forwards, up and down and to the right and left. She was enjoying it as much as I was, maybe more.

After a while, I felt like a change and I wanted to do some serious fucking, myself, so I turned her on her back and reinserted my joint into that heavenly little pussy. It was lubricated very well by now and it slid right in; comfortably, tight. She moaned as it went in and out, right and left and forward and back. I was doing a pretty good frequency and I sensed that she was on the verge of her first orgasm. I moved up my speed a little and took a little longer on the out take and sure enough, she moaned louder and longer. 

I slowed to a crawl and let the waves subside for a while and then I resumed my assault on that sweet, tight little pussy; in and out, in and out. She grabbed her hair and pulled. She grabbed the sheets and tried to pull them, all the while moaning and groaning and sometime, even growling; I was doing her right, my little angel.

I slowed again and let the feeling all but go away and I resumed to the height of the feeling. Then, I stopped all together and planted my feet firmly at her feet and I positioned myself as if I were going to do push-ups, which I was, only the target was her pussy. I lifted my body up over her so that the only part of me touching her was my prick and I moved slowly in and slowly out, going almost completely out and then back in; in and out, in and out.

As the waves started again, I was hoping I could keep it going until she came. This was hard on my shoulders and back. She started growling and tearing at the sheets with her arms and softly screaming my name and I knew she was ready to go over the top. 
 “Grwoo,” her teeth were clinched and all she made were guttural sounds; “Ieee!”

In and out, I went, hoping I could last until the end. And then her pussy started contracting, with spasm after spasm around my cock. God what a feeling! We were so wet that my prick made a sucking sound as it came out and a hissing sound as it went in and she was breathing real hard and softly screaming my name. But, I couldn’t hold on any longer and I collapsed on her, still thrusting in and out, to make sure that she had a totally satisfying orgasm.

I couldn’t move and I figured she would fall asleep at any moment. I lay there, still partially embedded in her pussy, cum oozing out all around my soaked prick, breathless and spent. She looked so comfortable and pleased, lying there in the afterglow of her first orgasm. 

I slowly got up and drank a little of my cold coffee. As I had expected, she was fast asleep with a little smile on her face. I turned out the light and went to the living room to think about some of the day’s events.

Laissez les bon temps roulez  

Let the good times roll

Frenchie
 


Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all 
rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.


“Sitting The Angel” is a fictional story, copyright by Frenchie.

If you would like to comment on my stories, I encourage you to write me at:

Frenchie Thibodeaux - frenchie72057@yahoo.com and tell me what you like and or dislike about my stories. Thanks, FT 

   





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