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Sensitive and/or non-adult individuals should delete this document
immediately.

If you are under 21 or you are an adult who does NOT wish to view
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By continuing, you are stating that you are an adult and understand that
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Eliston X. 'Ex' Gaulfre
Rewdius@gmail.com

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ChubLove.txt

The Chubby Lover

Mg Fg M+g+ M+g+Fg
Cons, Rom, Pett, Oral, Pedo, Piv, 1st, Preteen, Inc

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Never underestimate the power of positive thinking!  I won't, ever
again.  Especially when it comes to a chubby little plain-Jane preteen
that has a bombshell for a younger sister.  What I had assumed was
little more than baggy clothes and a disinterested young lady turned
into a sexual monster whose mother openly encouraged me to enjoy at
will.

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Being forty seven, slightly balding, overweight, lonely as Hell and just
as sexually frustrated as I was when I was fifteen, I figured my life
was pretty much over.  That is until I met someone very special, someone
that I'd never have given a second thought to before having met her.
She even convinced me that I had more to offer than considering myself
two hundred pounds of worm food, and that kind of persuasion isn't a
talent to be disregarded quickly.

It wouldn't be appropriate to start this at the end, so allow me to
share where I was, and what my life was like before I fell in love
again.

My second wife had just signed the divorce papers, glaring at me with
eyes filled with intense hatred and hoping that I'd have reconsidered
how the deal was finally done.  Of course, her attorney didn't help me
change my last offer much, my greedy bitch-of-a-wife represented by a
typical money grubbing asshole more interested in what he could get than
how the financial settlement may have left me or my former bride number
two.

Just thinking about the entire sordid affair still makes my stomach
churn and my heart ache.  The fact that I had actually caught her in bed
with a former associate while they were doing the horizontal nasty
didn't help her position in the eyes of the court the slightest amount.

What 'I' couldn't offer, apparently he could, a cock the size of an
overstuffed and extra long kielbasa from the local meat market.  The
lucky bastard must have genuinely enjoyed poking my former second wife,
her tight ass and shaved snatch repeatedly bobbing up and down on his
naked hips until they both got very careless.

Fortunately, I was the one that caught them together.  I say
fortunately, because it gave me a way out of a relationship that had
soured less than six months after I promised to honor and cherish for
the rest of my days.  At least my first wife kept her end of the
bargain, dying at the tender age of twenty six during a premature
childbirth.  I didn't forgive my Maker for years after that happened.

Ahhh, single again!

In spite of my new-found freedom, I was miserable almost every day,
seeing lots of happy men and sexually contented wives and girlfriends
carrying pretty baby girls in their arms constantly around me.  The only
thing that gave me any solice at all were the constant masturbation
sessions to images of lots of naked teenagers and little girls, the true
love of my life.  At least I had the good sense to limit my activities
to looking at someone else's daughter and stroking my less than
impressive tool in the bathroom.

With my life once again my own and my future limited only by my
imagination, it was time for a change of venue.  My financial holdings
faired quite a bit better than I had hoped, the court agreeing with me
and my attorney that my wealth shouldn't be shared with a woman that had
the poor taste to allow another man to dip his wick into what had been
proclaimed as my fair and sole territory.

Her trip through the halls of justice would be repeated after I was long
gone, the wife of my bride's lover choosing to rid him of his vast
holdings during their divorce settlement, and my former second wife
having to answer lots of uncomfortable questions about her role in
destroying her adulterous lover's family.

Poor little girls!

My former second wife should have thought a bit harder about what it
would have looked like for the man's two lovely preteen girls to have to
see him only on days that the court deemed acceptable, and only under
supervision.  I'd thought about having my way with either or both of
those lovely little spoiled brats, but knew well enough to keep my
interest in them strictly platonic when we visited at his house.

There were plenty of opportunities for me to sample from their tender
delights, slipping a casual caress up under a short skirt when they
coaxed me to wrestle, or between a chubby pair of thighs when we played
in their pool.  At least I knew to keep my activities limited to casual
and apparently 'accidental' caresses.

But enough about everyone else around me.

After moving out of town, I decided to take a more relaxed attitude
about life and using some of the vast wealth I'd accumilated since I
started working.  Sure, it wasn't a well thought out plan, but I'd
needed a break and sitting on my laurels wouldn't hurt for a little
while.

The first place I rented after finding a new town to live in was the
garage apartment of a fairly well to do man.  The apartment was selected
not because I couldn't afford a nicer place of my own, but because I
fell in love with his nine year old little Hollywood angel.

We'd met along the side of the road a few miles from the town where they
lived, his bad fortune with a flat tire and no spare turning into my
good fortune.  Owning the same model of SUV, all I had to do was remove
my spare from the storage compartment and bolt it into place onto his
empty wheel hub.  Once we made it back to town, he bought me a brand new
tire and wheel and offered something I couldn't have possibly refused.

"So, tell me Riley.  Where are you going to be staying in town?"

"Actually, I hadn't decided yet.  After I fill this grumbling tummy,
I'll buy the local paper and see what's available for rent."

"No need to do that!  I've got a place just waiting for a new tenant.
If you're willing to have lunch with me and my girls, we can talk about
it."

That's when I saw her.  Starla had to be the most gorgeous little angel
that had ever walked the Earth.  Her hair was honey blonde, eyes blue, a
smile that bore straight through my soul and a pair of lips that made my
mouth water and my little head ache.

Then I looked down.  Sweet tender fucking glory!

Even at her young age, her titties were already beginning to develop
nicely, shooting forward behind her almost skin-tight top plainly enough
to give me a woody that needed one serious stroking.  Her waist had
already begun to narrow, her hips swell just enough to give her some
shape and an ass that begged to be kissed for hours at a time.  The last
thing that I saw were a perfect pair of silken legs that had the
audacity to start inside a pair of cork sandals and go straight to
the inside of a pair of panties that I got to see only briefly.  Her ass
looked good enough to eat, what little of it I saw.

It was difficult, but I made it through lunch without making a fool of
myself or giving away what I was genuinely thinking as I stuffed a
foot-long submarine sandwich into my face.  The entire time we ate, I
tried to keep my eyes off of Starla, but wasn't all that successful.
What a doll!

Her older sister, Marsha, had nothing on her younger sibling.  That fact
was clearly illustrated in their father's demeanor, Branson spending
quite a bit more time talking to Starla than Marsha.  His almost
constant attention to and affection for his youngest little girl made me
jealous of his proximity, her body available to his hugs, touches and
tickles while she tried to finish her own sandwich.

The moment his cellphone rang and the painful sting of reality spoiled
his fun, I almost felt justified in seeing Branson squirm as his wife
asked where he and their girls were.  The phone call didn't last long,
but I could tell he was disappointed we had to end our visit so soon.

I followed his SUV to their place, a very nice house on over two acres
of land with a long winding driveway bordered by lots of lovely trees
and bushes.  When I saw the garage apartment, I knew I'd like staying
there.

Sitting on top of a three car garage was a place big enough to be called
a house with a wide balcony across the front.  It looked almost as nice
as the place I had just sold, the place nicely painted, lots of plants
and flowers everywhere and a half dozen trees lining the driveway
between the main house and the detached garage apartment.  There was
just enough greenery to keep anyone from seeing what might be going on
in the main house through shade-covered windows and dimmed lights.

Although I wasn't able to park my SUV inside the garage, I did have a
covered stall right next to the outside, covered on three sides with
either screen or angled wooden slats.

The first person I met after stepping out of my SUV was Belinda,
Branson's wife.  She had the demeanor of my first wife, dainty, polite,
bubbly and incredibly cordial.  Belinda looked more like Starla than
Marsha, making me wonder if their first born might have been adopted or
sired by the local postman or butcher.

After our introductions, Branson informed Marsha that she was to help me
take my stuff inside the apartment while he and Starla went into the
house to make arrangements for her drill team practice.  I could see in
Belinda's eyes a measure of sadness that needed no explanations.  It was
painfully apparent that Branson had much more invested in his second
born than his first.

What Starla seemed to possess in her mom's outgoing personality wasn't
shared in Marsha, a quiet and extremely reserved eleven year old.  It
wasn't until she was walking ahead of me up the long flight of stairs
that I even noticed her for the first time.

Marsha lacked what her younger sister took great pride in, the older
girl possessing short, curly dark hair instead of light and shiny
blonde, plain brown eyes instead of pools of sky blue, her subdued gaze
obscured behind a pair of uncomplimentary glasses, a pouty and full pair
of lips that seemed to be held in a perpetual sulk, and a shorter
stature concealed inside a baggy sweatshirt and plain blue jeans.

The development that Starla took great pride in displaying wasn't shared
by her older sibling either, Marsha much chubbier than any other member
of her family.  She wasn't rotund or fat, but had a fullness that made
her the obvious stand-out in their clan.  The more I looked at her, the
more I was convinced she was not a biological product of her so called
'parents'.  Although it was none of my business, I felt slightly
interested, if only to answer the many difficult questions rattling
around in my head.

The longer I was around her, the more I realized how disinterested I may
have originally been to find out any details about who she really was
and if she had anyone special to 'take care of her'.  It was as if
Marsha was a silent member of their family, carefully and knowingly kept
from view because she didn't exude the same lovely appeal that her
younger sister and mother naturally possessed.

The first couple of weeks of my stay after moving my stuff in went just
as quietly as ever, none of Branson's family activities interrupted nor
intruded upon.  The best thing for me was to sneak a few peeks at Starla
as she practiced her cheerleading routines in the back yard, dawned her
sexy swimsuit and dove repeatedly in their pool or lay almost naked in a
small protected area not too far from the cabana.  Wanting to preserve
my freedom, I kept my activities quite restrained while taking every
chance possible to steal long glances at her nymphet body.

When Branson sent Marsha over to invite me to a cookout they were going
to host, I actually thought more about Starla than the eleven year old
standing in the open doorway of the apartment.  Of course, I accepted
immediately, hoping I'd get an opportunity to run my naughty hands
around that lovely frame, the nine year old, not the plump and very
plain preteen wistfully summoning their newest houseguest over for an
evening of food and fun.

Almost the whole party, Branson kept a tight hold of his nine year old
as he entertained all of his many well-to-do guests, the little girl
enjoying the attention her daddy was bestowing upon her and eating up
all the affection as if it were pure sugar.  Belinda never once
interfered with her husband's open display of affection for his little
blonde bombshell, the woman's occasional glances toward Marsha after
looking at the conspicuous displays her husband lauded upon the younger
girl cluing me into a part of their lives that I hadn't anticipated.

It was only after I saw Branson sneak a so-called 'subtle' handful of
Starla's tight ass up under her short skirt that I needed some fresh
air.  If I couldn't enjoy what he was revelling in, I had to excuse
myself so I could cool off.  As I carried a tall glass of rum and cola
outside, I saw Belinda try to hide an expression of absolute disgust,
her eyes catching what mine had.  It was obvious she knew what her
husband was doing and how he felt about his lovely nine year old sexpot.

Not thinking about where I was going, I ended up on their patio,
watching a few of the guests' girls splash and romp in the brightly lit
pool.  It didn't take long for me to refocus my attention on a pair of
lovely little angels wearing what might have been called swimsuits.
Damn, they looked sweet and tender.

I remained alone on the patio turned toward the pool and away from the
open doorway in my comfortable seat for about ten minutes until Belinda
and Marsha walked up behind me, quietly chatting and not taking notice
of my body in a chair less than a few feet from where they began to
talk.  It was what they were chatting about that made me want to stand
immediately and reveal my presence so they knew someone was within
hearing distance.

"What did you want to talk about, Marsha?"

"Mom, when am 'I' gonna start looking sexy and beautiful like Starla?
You always said I'd look as pretty as she does when I was old enough to
have titties.  Ever since she turned eight and a half, her body looks
sooo much better than mine, and it's just not fair.  I've been a good
girl and tried to exercise and keep fit, but nothing I do has any
effect.  The more I try to make myself look pretty, the better Starla
looks.  Daddy loves her so much more than he does me and practically
undresses her right there in front of his friends.  I wish he'd do that
to me, just a little bit.  I'd be good and let him touch me like he does
Starla, honest.  Doesn't he know that, Momma?"

"Come on, Angel.  You know your daddy loves you very much.  He loves you
just as much as he loves Starla and would do anything he could to make
you feel pretty.  He's just not very good at showing how much he cares
for you like he does with Starla, that's all."

"But Mom, didn't you see how he was playing with her and touching her
butt when he thought nobody could see?  My gosh!  If you'd let him, he'd
pull her panties down and fondle her right in front of all his buddies."

"Marsha!  Stop it!  You know better than to say things like that."

"But it's true, Mom.  You've seen how Daddy touches Starla all the time
and you don't do anything about it.  Why not?"

I waited silently for almost a minute before Belinda answered.  If they
knew I was sitting less than five feet away and listening to everything
they were saying, I'd be out on my ass on the street the next morning.

"Your father has certain needs that only Starla can fill, Angel, and as
long as he doesn't cause any problems or get either of them into
trouble, I'm unable to tell him to refrain from expressing himself with
his own flesh and blood.  Your father and I have an agreement about his
personal needs, and unless I want to find myself looking for another
place to stay, I have to permit his loving affection for Starla."

"I wish 'I' had someone that wanted to touch me like Daddy touches
Starla.  I'd be good to him and love him and let him do whatever he
wanted, as long as he treated me as if 'I' was a little angel like Daddy
does to Starla."

"Oh, Precious.  You're man will come along soon enough.  When he does,
you'll just have to be ready and accept whatever he offers when he
does."

"Will a guy ever want to play with my bum and touch me underneath my
skirt like Daddy does with Starla?  I don't need for a guy to have sex
with me right in the middle of his friends or anything like that.  I
just wanna feel all special and tingly and know what it feels like to be
naked in a man's arms."

"Don't be in too much of a hurry, Sweetheart.  Soon enough, there will
be lots of guys who will be trying to take your clothes off and talking
you into going to bed.  If you try too hard to prove you're ready,
you'll scare anyone away that might be willing to show you what it feels
like to be a woman.  Your time will come quickly enough, and before you
know it, you'll have a perfectly normal sex life when you're ready."

"But Mom!  I'm almost gonna start to have my periods pretty soon, and
will have to start taking the pill just so I don't get knocked up by the
first guy that wants to do it for real.  If I wait until after I turn
twelve, I'll probably bleed all over the guy and freak him out forever.
He'll tell all his friends and I'll never have a boyfriend."

"Ohhh, Angel.  Be patient, please?  When the right guy comes along,
you'll know.  Haven't you seen the way Daddy's friend Mr. Walkins has
been looking at you all night?  If he's been looking at you, then other
guys must have been looking at you too."

"But Mommm!  He's gotta be like a hundred years old!"

"Sweetie, never let a man's age get in the way of your happiness.  If
he's the right man, he'll make you feel like the princess you are, and
whisk you off your feet.  If he's rich and successful, then, so much the
better."

"Do you think Mr. Walkins really does like me, Momma?  Should I let him
touch me like Daddy touches Starla if he wanted to?"

"What do you want, Angel?  Do you want for him to touch you?"

"I don't know.  Not really."

"Then, wait until another guy comes along that shows you he's interested
and decide then.  Until that day comes, just be patient and don't try so
hard.  Guys don't like to be pushed into a relationship or forced to
make a decision when they're not ready.  And remember, if somebody comes
along that's willing to be sweet to you and show you what it's like to
feel like a woman, you can't be too choosey, okay?"

"I guess.  I just wish somebody could come along soon, 'cause I'm
getting tired of sneaking your vi . . . "

"My, what?"

"Oh, Mom!  I didn't mean for you to hear that!"

"Have you been borrowing my vibrator, Marsha?"

"Yes, Ma-am."

"Does your little sister know?"

"Noooooo!  I only used to do that in the garage apartment before Mr.
Timbler moved in.  Now, I have to wait until Dad takes Starla to one of
her cheerleading practices or to her dance class before I feel like I
have any privacy and do it in our bedroom."

"Would you like for me to get you your own vibrator?  I could order one
that you could use anytime you felt the need and then hide in your
secret drawer when Starla was around."

"You'd do that for me, Mom?"

"Of course, Angel.  Besides, we girls have to stick together in these
sorts of things, now don't we?  After all, when we can't have our man
around all the time to take care of our needs, a little help now and
then isn't a bad thing, now is it?"

"Thanks Mom.  I appreciate you're helping me like this."

"You're welcome, Sugar.  The only thing I'm going to ask is that you
don't use mine after I buy you your own.  These things are pretty
personal and shouldn't be shared."

"Okay, Mom.  I promise I'll stay out of your things."

"That's my girl!  Now listen.  You be patient about finding your man,
and before you know it, someone will be trying to rip your clothes off
and having mad, passionate sex with you for hours and hours until you
can't stand it anymore.  You never know who it might be.  It could be
someone as close as Mr. Timbler and you'd never even know it."

"Himmm?  He's never even looked at me, Mom."

"Just remember that the ones that hide their feelings the best are
sometimes the ones you have to worry about the most.  I'll bet if you
dropped a few subtle hints his way, he may just sneak a naughty little
finger or even his whole hand inside your panties when nobody was
looking.  Just be careful and don't give him the wrong idea until you
get to know him a little bit better."

"Do you think he might want to do the stuff with me that Daddy does with
Starla?"

"I don't know, Angel."

"Does Mr. Timbler like little girls like Daddy and his friends do?"

"I don't know that either."

"Well . . . has Daddy been able to find out anything?"

"From what your daddy has found out about him, Mr. Timbler's already
been married twice.  We don't know what his first wife was like, but his
second wife was a real tramp.  He got a divorce from her because she
slept around on him like a twenty dollar whore.  She may have had more
lovers that the poor man will ever know about.  He doesn't have a police
record or has been caught buying any kiddy porn, so your Daddy doesn't
know for sure if he likes them as young as your father does."

"I wish I knew what to do, Mom.  I think Mr. Timbler is cute and all,
but he hasn't done anything or even looked at me.  How will I know if he
might like me or if I should try to get his attention?"

"You'll know, Angel.  The first time he tries to touch you, you'll know.
Now listen.  I've got a house full of guests to go attend to and you've
got your own little mission to get started on.  Go find Mr. Timbler and
be friendly to him.  If he's had a little too much liquor, he might even
try to talk you into meeting him in his apartment tonight."

"Come on, Mom!  He'd have to be pretty drunk to want me."

"Oh, Angel.  Don't be so anxious about this, okay?  Please?"

"Thanks Mom.  I'll be okay."

I heard them softly kiss and then go back inside, their bodies clearly
making two distinct shadows as they walked by an outside lamp.

I waited almost ten minutes before moving a muscle, unsure if anyone
might see me stand up after having sat through a very personal
conversation between a mother and a very horny eleven year old chubette.

My attitude about Marsha changed instantly, her desire to be needed and
alone with a man at her age making me reconsider how finicky my tastes
should be regarding little girls and mature women.  As horny as 'I' felt
at the moment, I'd take Marsha's grand-mother, and all I'd seen of that
woman was a series of wedding photographs!

My feet carried me nervously back inside their house after my glass was
empty, a bathroom visit and a tall refill the next two things on my
target list.  A very horny eleven year old was the next item on the
agenda after that.

By the time my glass was refilled and my tummy brimming with heaping
helpings of food, I saw Starla and three of her friends wearing their
cheerleading uniforms, practicing for all the men in the front room.  It
was obvious what those guys were interested in, because instead of a
normal pair of shorty-shorts under ultra-tiny miniskirts, all three of
those vixens were wearing nearly invisible and incredibly tiny
g-strings.  Fuck, they looked hot!

Most of the women and the rest of the children were in the den, a game
of pool occupying some, the TV others and conversation the rest.  The
disparity of attitudes and activities from one room to the next was like
the proverbial night-and-day.

Knowing I had far too much competition from so many other men, I lost
interest in Starla and either of her friends immediately and set about
to look for the youngest girl's older sister.  That's when I saw Marsha
looking my way, her plump butt planted right next to her sexy mom's and
her eyes locked hard onto mine.

Her expression was a mixture of hunger and fear, a recently installed
and much more sexy outfit very enticing and her posture exuding anxious
determination.  While I had emptied my bladder and refilled my belly,
Marsha had gone to her room and changed, now sporting a snug fitting
tubetop and midthigh skirt.  It was painfully apparent she wanted to
grow up, so I'd accomodate her if offered the opportunity.

The instant I openly looked toward her and smiled, she blushed but
didn't look away.  It was her smile that surprised me and her mom
nudging her in the ribs that forced her to make the first move.  Before
she could walk two feet, I was already headed toward the patio, her eyes
following me as I walked.  Her mom whispered something in her right ear
and must have given her daughter something to think about, another blush
produced as a result.  Nobody else in the room took notice of their
conversation or what Marsha was wearing, the preteen adequately ignored
in defference to all the other pretty or younger girls.

Since the pool was empty and quiet, the area surrounding it was peaceful
enough for a quiet conversation between a man on the verge of becoming a
pedophile and an eleven year old desperately wanting to experience
womanhood far too early.

My butt settled on a wooden swing just outside of view from the house,
the seat big enough for two people to sit on and begin to explore each
other without anyone watching.  Less than two minutes after getting
comfortable, I saw a shadow cross to my right.  It was Marsha.

"Mr. Timbler?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like some company?"

"Sure, Marsha!  You wouldn't mind sitting with an old fart like me?  I
didn't think anyone your age would have anything to do with an old
dinosaur my age."

"You're not old!"

"You're very kind, but obviously haven't seen my birth certificate yet.
Have a seat right here and get comfy."

"Thanks."

She sat very close next to me, her right thigh resting along my left.
The moment our legs came into contact, I could tell she was much more
determined than I imagined.

"Don't you want to watch my sister and her friends prancing around in
their sexy outfits doing their cheers and showing off their bums?"

"Not really.  Besides, I don't care too much for flashy women that need
a lot of attention from lots of guys.  There's too much competition from
all the other men in there anyway, so I wouldn't have much of a chance
to get Starla or her friends to notice me, even if I was young, rich and
good looking."

I let her stew on that for a few moments, hoping she'd try to convince
me that she'd be perfectly comfortable being with only one man.

"Don't you think Starla is pretty, Mr. Timbler?"

"Yeah, kinda.  By the way.  When we're alone, you can call me Riley."

"So . . . Riley . . . you do think she's kinda pretty?"

"A little, but being pretty is not nearly as important is being loving.
I'd much prefer to have a girlfriend that was willing to please me than
one that every guy thought was hot."

"What would your girlfriend have to do to prove that she'd be willing to
please you?"

"Oh, I don't know.  I guess when a man gets to be my age, he pretty much
settles for any woman that comes along that's willing to kiss me and let
me touch her.  Since that's not likely to happen, I'll just settle for
pictures of naked ladies on the internet."

"Do you have any favorites?"

"Oh sure!"

"What do they look like?"

"Well . . . let's just say my tastes might seem a bit too controversial
for most people."

"Like, how?"

"It may not be a good idea for me to talk to you about that sort of
stuff, Marsha.  After all, you're just a little girl and would find my
appetites somewhat repulsive."

"You mean 'cause you like to look at pictures of little girls naked?
All men like that."

"Really?  Even your dad?"

"Oh, yeah!  My dad and his buddies are part of a special club that
trades and shares lots of pictures of little girls of all ages.  I saw
some of them on his laptop when he left it on one day.  I didn't really
mean to go snooping around like that, but needed to download something
from one of my favorite music websites when I clicked on a desktop icon
called 'Angels'.  The first thing that came up was a page full of
thumbnails showing lots of pretty girls' faces.  When I clicked on one,
the next page showed a whole screen full of thumbnails of her wearing
all kinds of pretty clothes and stuff.  I clicked again and it showed
another page of her taking her clothes off until she was doing all sorts
of sexy poses in the nude.  She was really cute and very sexy so I kept
looking at all the pictures.  Pretty soon, I had looked at almost a
dozen different girls until I clicked on the last page on the list.
That's when I saw a whole bunch of little tiny girls, younger than me or
Starla."

"How old were they?"

"I dunno, maybe five or six."

"Didn't you find it disgusting for your dad to have all those pictures
of little girls in the nude, especially of ones that weren't even in
school yet?"

"Well, yes and no.  I've always known that my daddy likes to look at
lots of girls 'cause he and his friends have swimming parties during the
summer and they have all their little girls come over and swim with
Starla and her friends from school.  I've even see my dad holding and
touching Starla and a few of the other girls, even inside their
swimsuits."

"That must of bothered you quite a bit.  Doesn't the idea of a man
touching and fondling a little girl scare you?"

"Not if he's nice to her and doesn't hurt her."

"Has your daddy or any of his friends ever tried to touch you when you
go swimming with all the other girls?"

"No.  Starla doesn't like for me to go swimming when they have their
special pool parties 'cause I'm not as pretty as they are.  Besides,
since I have to wear glasses and can't see without them, I wouldn't be
able to go swimming like normal girls do.  I'd probably just make all
the girls and their boyfriends feel bad so I don't try to interfere.
Most of the time, my mom takes me shopping or to the movies or something
like that."

"So, you've never had a man try to touch you like they touch your little
sister?"

"No."

"I'll bet it would scare you quite a bit if a man tried to touch you
like they did Starla, wouldn't it?"

"I don't know.  I guess not."

"What would the guy have to do so he knew you wouldn't mind if he
tried?"

"I don't know.  I've never much thought about it."

"I guess when the right guy comes along, he'll know what to do.  Until
then, all 'I' can do is look at pictures of pretty girls on the internet
like your dad does, except I don't have any of LITTLE girls like his."

"Would you like to see his pictures?"

"I'm not so sure he'd like for me to be snooping around on his computer,
Honey."

"You don't have to see them on his laptop.  I know where he keeps his
CD's.  If I go get them, can I show them to you?"

"You wouldn't mind showing me pictures of naked little girls?"

"It's no big deal.  They're just pictures."

"Where would you show them to me?  I don't think it would be a good idea
for me to go upstairs or anywhere else inside your house."

"Do you have a computer?"

"Sure!  I have a laptop in my apartment."

"I'll bring them over there and I could show them to you without anyone
finding out."

"Are you sure, Marsha?  Your mom might be upset with me if she knew I
was looking at your dad's pictures of little girls.  Wouldn't she get
mad if she knew he had lots of pictures of naked little girls?"

"Nawww.  She knows he collects them.  I've even seen her looking at some
one time."

"You wouldn't be nervous or embarrassed about me looking at pictures of
girls your age and younger in the nude?"

"No.  I've known for a long time that guys like to look at naked little
girls.  I don't mind and don't get embarrassed about that stuff anymore.
I'm not a little girl anymore, anyway.  I know what girls look like."

"Yes, but doesn't a man looking at naked little girls bother you, even a
little bit?"

"Not really.  I know guys like to look 'cause it's natural for them to
want to see and touch girls as much as they can."

"Okay, I tell you what.  Since I'm a little tired anyway, how about if I
excuse myself from the party and if you can find your dad's CD's, bring
them over whenever you can in the next few days or so."

"I know where they are and can bring them over right now!"

"Won't your mom wonder where you went if you disappeared from the
party?"

"I can tell her that I just wanted to be alone for a little while.  She
knows the other girls don't like for me to be around so most of the time
where we're having a party, I just go stay in my room or go sit by
myself somewhere in the yard."

"I wouldn't want your mom to worry about you if you were gone for a few
hours, Marsha."

"I'll just tell her that I wanted to be alone until tomorrow.  She won't
say anything."

"I don't know . . . "

"Please, Riley?  I don't mind showing you as many CD's as you want."

"How many does your dad have?"

"I dunno.  Maybe a couple hundred."

Fuck me!  This guy and his friends must have been collecting these
things for years!

"I tell you what.  Why don't you bring over just a few of the ones you
want me to look at.  If we have a chance later, I might ask you to let
me see more if you don't mind."

"I don't mind, Riley.  Honest!"

"Okay.  Bring over only a couple of them and I'll be waiting for you.
Just come on in when you come over."

"Okay!  Be there in a minute!"

"Whoa!  Let me say my goodbye's first, okay?  I don't want your mom and
dad wondering where you're headed off to while I'm walking out the door.
If they see us leave together, they might think I was trying to get you
to come over to my apartment so I could take all your clothes off and
have sex with your or something like that."

I could see the look in her eyes and knew Marsha wouldn't mind one
little bit.

We rose together and were about to go through the patio door side by
side when I stopped Marsha and let her go in first.  I watched the
eleven year old head straight for her mom.

I almost swallowed my teeth when Marsha cupped her hand over her mom's
ear and whispered some delicate instructrions, Belinda smiling briefly
and then nodding.  Without looking toward me or the patio, Belinda tried
to suppress an intense blush and wicked grin, the knowledge in her head
sure to stir something deep inside.  I longed to know what was said.

I'd know soon enough!

My feet carried me nervously toward the front room where the men and a
whole collection of lovely angels were comfortably resting on couches
and leather chairs.  When I walked through the door, I caught a few
hands excitedly being drawn out from under short skirts or from between
sexy thighs, the men more anxious than any of the girls.  I said my
farewells and thanked my host for his hospitality, his expression
confirming that he was quite comfortable with my departure.

My trip to the den was much more relaxed, Belinda holding me around the
waist and giving me a comfortable hug as I informed her that I needed to
leave.  She seemed genuinely sorry that I chose to call it an early
evening, trying to coax me to change my mind in front of Marsha and
Belinda's many friends.  After insisting that I needed to go, Belinda
then tugged me off toward the doorway, something needing a bit more
privacy.

"Riley, would you mind keeping Marsha company for a little while longer,
since she's been just miserable not having anyone to talk to all night?
Please do me this one favor and I'll be indebted to you forever."

"Well . . . I'd like to, but . . . "

"I tell you what.  Do you like music?"

"Yes I do."

"Do you have a CD player?"

"I've got one on my laptop."

"How about if Marsha borrows a few of her dad's favorite CD's and then
meets you over at your place so you two can chat for a while longer?  I
know how much she hates just sitting around watching everyone else have
a good time and know you two will hit it off like two peas in a pod.
Would you do me this one favor, Riley, please?"

It really didn't take me that long to think about it.

"Well . . . are you sure you don't mind, Belinda?"

"Of course not, Riley.  Marsha doesn't have to be up early tomorrow and
can sleep as late as she wants if you two talk until the sun comes up.
Besides, her dad and I have to go to one of Starla's presentations for
most of the day tomorrow and won't be back until almost dinner.  You two
should be up by then."

"Uhhhh . . . "

"Listen.  Before you go, grab a couple armloads of food so you two can
munch on some snacks until breakfast.  I'd hate for all this good stuff
to go uneaten."

Belinda actually led me by the arm toward the buffet area of the
kitchen, loading a large tray of sandwiches, meats, cheeses, vegetables,
condiments and finally topping it off with another plate full of
desserts.  I wasn't sure when I'd be eating all of it, but wouldn't let
it go to waste.

While Belinda was busily trying to satisfy my culinary requirements for
the next few days, Marsha had disappeared and returned with a rather
impressive CD case inside her grasp.  Imagine my surprise when Belinda
actually had Marsha help me carry another full plate completely
overloaded with food and a small cooler of softdrinks and beer out of
the side door toward my apartment.

"You two have a good time tonight.  The house will be locked, Marsha.
You know the code to unlock the door when you want to come back inside."

"Yes, Mom."

"Good!  Have fun, you two.  Goodnight Riley, and thanks!"

"Goodnight, Belinda."

We didn't make it all the way upstairs before almost dropping at least
one of the plates of food, a careless step on my part because I was so
incredibly nervous.

After putting most of the food in the fridge, we sat on the balcony and
nibbled on some of the goodies provided, quietly getting to know each
other.  I'm not sure who was more scared, me or Marsha.  Eventually, the
conversation came back to the reason for her visit.

"What kind of laptop do you have, Riley?"

"Oh, it's kind of an old one and probably isn't as fast as anything your
dad has."

"Does it have a lot of disk space?"

"There's only about 80 gig's on the primary harddrive, but I've got a
few portable drives that I can connect to it through the USB port.
Why?"

"Well . . . if you wanted to, you could copy as many pictures as you
wanted from my dad's CD's and look at them as much as you wanted to
later on."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea, since looking at them with you here
might make you feel a little awkward anyway, huh?"

"NO, NO, NO!  That's not what I meant.  What I meant was you could keep
and look at them as much as you wanted to after we looked at them first.
Don't you want to see them?"

"Yeah, I guess I do.  I've just never seen a girl so anxious to let a
guy look at other little girls without any clothes on."

"I don't mind, Riley.  I guess I've always known that guys like to look
at girls without any clothes on.  My dad used to see me go swimming
without my bathing suit on when I was a real little girl, but ever since
I grew up and got all fat, he doesn't like to look at me any more."

"Marsha!  You're not fat."

"Yes I am.  You're just being nice, that's all."

We sat uncomfortably for another few seconds, neither of us certain how
to be extracted from the possibility that I might say something
inappropriate or untrue.

"Can I show you some of the girls that my dad likes?"

"Sure.  Let's go."

I couldn't believe I was doing it, but after opening and turning my
laptop on, I sat back and watched as Marsha opened the CD case,
revealing about forty disks, each nestled inside their own protective
jackets.

She pulled the first one out, looking at me with a sideways glance to
see if I could read the label.  I tried to remain calm as she stuck the
disk in the tray and closed it, the read light flickering for a few
seconds and then went blank.  Having protected my machine by not
permitting AUTORUN commands to be acted upon, I used a familiar browser
to preview the contents of the CD.  Just as she had described, the first
page I saw was an array of smiling faces, none younger than Marsha.

"Why don't you pick the first one for us to look at, Marsha?  Show me
which ones are your dad's favorites."

Quite familiar with laptops, Marsha used the touchpad and buttons to
select one of the girls, the next screen displaying this one pretty
angel in varying scenes and outfits.  Marsha then selected from the
first one on the list, the next screen illustrating nothing more
provocative than a teenaged fashion show.

The second page showed the girl beginning to peel off the first layers
of her outfit, the last image on the page providing a revealing look of
the girl's lovely upper thighs.  The third page demonstrated the
willingness of a young professional model to undo her blouse and then
remove it, a white and very sexy lace bra covering just enough of her
developing shape to keep her adequately covered.  The fourth page proved
what Marsha meant about her dad enjoying the naked beauty of young
girls, the last few images on the page revealing a plump hairless quim
tucked behind a seemingly nervous hand.

By the time the fifth page was opened, my heart was hammering wildly in
my chest, both because I was looking at an incredibly beautiful naked
twelve year old on my laptop, and because it was another preteen showing
her to me.  Marsha's voice broke my concentration, my eyes locked onto
the thumbnail of a darling little angel's puffy cunny.

"My dad likes to see the girls with no hair like this one and with
titties that start to fill out a nice full A-cup like hers.  I think he
likes pictures like this one the best."

She clicked on an image that I had been admiring the most, the fullsized
image filling the screen and almost making me unload into my shorts.  As
hard as it was for me to remain calm and for me to remain inside my
shorts, I still kept a fairly straight face.

"Do you like this girl, Riley?"

"Mmm hmmm.  She's pretty."

Fucking liar!  She was a goddess!

Her cunny was perfect!  Full, round, smooth and hairless with a light
dusting of down just developing on her plump mound.  Her nubbin barely
poked forward between her labia, but her vaginal opening was clearly
evident, bright pink, recently used with the evidence of a man's
contributions and heavily slick with arousal and excitement.  I imagined
Marsha feeling something quite similar at the moment.

The young model looked good enough to tongue and then fuck for about
five or six days straight, my cock throbbing and my needs stronger than
ever before.

For the next half hour, Marsha kept selecting each of the girls on that
first CD, going from the first to the last screens immediately so we
could both see each girl completely naked before wasting our time
looking at clothing or scenery.  Marsha seemed like my kind of girl!

The first CD was removed and the next CD was inserted, Marsha repeating
her selection process and showing me the best shots without bothering
with any of the first two or three pages of slow torture.  By the second
hour of the show, Marsha was sitting quite a bit closer to me than ever
before, her left knee almost hooked over my right and her left arm
carelessly draped over my lap as she used her right hand on the
touchpad.

The third and fourth CD's followed the same pattern, girls ranging from
ten to sixteen showing every feature of their lovely bodies to anyone
interested in buying the collection.  Not seeing me react too strongly
to anything so far, Marsha removed the fourth CD and was about to drop
her first bombshell.

"Riley?  Do you think it's nasty for two girls to be naked together?"

"No, not at all.  As long as nobody is being forced to do anything they
don't want to or gets hurt in the process, I think young girls together
in the nude is very lovely."

"What about if they're touching each other?  Would that bother you?"

"Nope!"

There was no need for me to influence Marsha's selection process, so I
continued to remain as calm as possible and waited until she put another
disk in the machine.  After the drive light went out and she displayed
the preview page, I almost lost a nut.

I recognized a few of the faces from a Russian website and hoped I'd
finally be able to see what I couldn't afford or didn't want to get
caught buying myself.  Sure enough, the first 'couple' was of an older
and younger sister, the older one not that appealing, but the little one
absolutely fucking hot!  Just as before, Marsha skipped all the intro
junk and headed straight for the best shots at the back.

The one she chose for me to see fullscreen almost made me pass out.

The younger blonde six year old baby was laying on her back, legs spread
wickedly apart as her older darker haired sister was running her tongue
up and down the length of the little girl's cunny, openly tickling her
nubbin and illiciting the younger girl's hips to rise toward the
ceiling.  They looked so relaxed and comfortable in the shot that I was
convinced they were enjoying what the photographer was capturing on
digital film.

That's when I realized that Marsha was also enjoying the image, her left
hand no longer on my lap but between her thighs, trying to hide the fact
that she desperately needed to have a man like me touch her in a similar
manner.  I wanted to, but needed to be absolutely sure I wouldn't end up
in jail as a result.  It was bad enough that Marsha was openly showing
me what her daddy liked to look at, but to cross the line and go from
watching to doing was a whole other matter.

Poor Marsha selected from this disk and tried to get me to do something,
anything, just to give her proof that my heart was still beating and my
lungs filling and emptying with air.  As much as I ached to share with
this horny eleven year old just what I knew about gentle touches and
long lingual strokes up and down tender forbidden flesh, I wasn't about
to give away anything, yet!  I needed for her to make the first obvious
sexual advance.

That fifth CD almost broke me, a short visit to the bathroom almost
convincing Marsha that I needed to wank off for half an hour to relieve
some tension.  Instead, she heard an open and rather crude example of my
need to honestly empty my bladder from a standing position.  After
washing my hands and returning from the darkened confines of my
bathroom, I went to the kitchen for something to refuel my depleated
energy stores.

"Care for something to eat, Marsha?"

It took her a few moments to respond, her eyes closed and her hand no
longer leaving any doubt as to what her needs were.  I watched as she
snapped back to reality, a deepening crimson blush eminating from her
face and extending downward toward her tubetop as she pulled her hand
out from between her chubby thighs.

"Uh, nothing for me, thank you Riley."

I ate half a chicken salad sandwich and sipped on a half consumed can of
fruit juice, the beer to be opened later and enjoyed when I was alone.
It was tearing Marsha up to watch me casually consume my snack, her eyes
begging me to hurry the Hell up and return to my place at her side.
When I did, she practically broke the CD drive tray as she tried to
close it with the sixth disk inside.  Her shaking voice told me more
than she knew.

"This is one that my dad doesn't like for my mom to know about."

The label on the disk was very different from any of the others,
Marsha's lack of any preview or warning making me wonder why she chose
to not reveal what I was about to see.  The moment I saw the preview
page, I knew why.

This one was a hardcore porn disk with dozens of Asian little girls in
lots of sexy and very compromising positions, many with men and older
boys.  This time, Marsha started at the first image and proceeded
forward one at a time, letting me see every photograph in impeccable
detail fullscreen.  Whatever illusion Marsha had about wanting to show
me what was on this disk was lost, her eyes locked firmly onto each
image as little girls no older than five and six were seen having
intercourse with a wide variety of male suitors.

I had longed to own such a disk and quietly begged for Marsha to leave
just this one so I could make secure copies and enjoy them for the rest
of my life.  When she got to the end of the first series, I had to get
up so I could adjust myself in my pants, so once again, I went to the
kitchen.  This time, I had a mouthful of a luscious chocolate cake,
dreaming of something nearly as sweet and just as soft against my
tongue.

After I sat back down, Marsha anxiously clicked on an icon that said
'MPEG', my heart just about bursting out of my chest the instant I
recognized what that meant.  Could it be what I'd dreamed of for so many
years?

Yes!

In stunning detail and perfect clarity, Marsha and I sat and watched as
an elementary school girl walked into a small classroom, sat down at a
child's desk and pretended to do homework.  Following instructions from
an off-screen commentator, the little girl undid her blouse and then
removed it, fondling and caressing her firm dark brown nipples once she
tossed her garment to the floor behind her.  Then, as before, a foreign
voice commanded her to undo her skirt and remove it, followed by her
white panties.

To my horrified excitement, the little girl, probably no more than seven
or eight began to play with her titties again, trying to look as sexy as
she could.  Without any further coaching, her hand began to move lower,
the child's eyes closed and her mouth open.

The moment her hand went from her titties to her nubbin, the cameraman
shifted his position so he was under the tabletop and less than four
feet from her hips.  We both then watched as the naive little girl began
to masturbate herself as she sat at the desk, her knees wickedly spread
all the way apart and her short fingers rambling amateurishly around
over her nubbin, the only clothes on her body now her knee-length socks
and black shoes.

In the middle of her careless manipulations, a door was heard opening
and closing, a man coming into the scene quietly chatting with the
little girl while she maintained her self love.  The little girl kept
her eyes closed as the man shifted his hand over hers, adding his
fingers to the naked and hairless smoothness of her slender pudendum.

It didn't take the man more than a minute before he lifted her out of
the desk chair and lay her down over the top of the desk, keeping her
thighs all the way apart as he lowered his face to her pussy.  The
dark-skinned angel had a hard time controlling her enthusiasm as her
suitor busied himself, her arms or hands frequently getting in the way
of the view of his tongue as it danced around and over her incredibly
sensitive nubbin.  The director had to continue to remind the little
girl to let the cameraman do his job while the lucky bastard pressing
his mouth to her naked pussy did his job and used his tongue on the
hapless naked angel.

For about two minutes, the naked elementary school girl lay writhing on
the desk, moaning and whimpering as the talented man wrestled with the
preteen's clitty and stabbed nastily at and then inside the entrance of
her vagina with his tongue.  Just as she was at the verge of a very
sweet cum, his index and then middle finger disappeared inside her
cunny, fucking slowly at first, increasing speed until the man was
finger fucking the little girl almost wildly.

In the throws of her excited passion, the man dropped his slacks and
then whipped out a fairly average looking tool, working it up and down
the length of her now soaked and slick pussy until the director called
for the culmination of his duties to be performed.

I was incredibly fortunate to have a decent sound card in my laptop,
because I could actually hear the snaps, pops and squishes as he fucked
that darling little girl with all his might.  Then, as the time
indicator began to near the far right side of the slider, I saw and
heard both of them convulse into each other as the man filled the little
girl with untold quantities of his seed, her impassioned voice
confirming that at least, this time, she was enjoying being implanted
with an older man's sperm.

After the scene ended, I sat back in the chair and watched as Marsha was
flailing madly at her crotch, her eyes closed and mouth wide open.  I
was lucky the play options were set to repeat the movie endlessly,
because Marsha just kept going as the movie restarted, the little girl
undoing her blouse, taking it off and playing with her little titties to
the direction of an off-screen foreign voice.

Marsha only stopped after she achieved her aim, her legs clamping around
her hand, her body lurching forward repeatedly and her whimpers filling
my apartment so much that I could no longer hear what was going on in
the movie.  It was only after she realized she had openly masturbated in
front of me that she became aware of my presence and that I was still
right next to her left shoulder.

Once her head cleared and her eyes opened, she turned to see me smiling
at her.  Rather than make her feel humiliated or embarrassed, I didn't
look at her too intently.  Instead, I clicked <STOP> and then selected
the next 'MPEG' icon.  I'm sure she was more confused at that moment
than ever before in her life, my willingness to grant her yet another
opportunity to repeat her last performance.

The next movie was better than the last, two preschool little girls
naked at the start and encouraged to play with and touch each others'
genitals as they romped around on top of a large bed.  Their giggles and
laughter filled their room and my apartment as Marsha and I watched them
tickle and touch each other, short chubby fingers going places that I
only WISHED mine could go.

When Marsha leaned toward me, I knew what she wanted and I wasn't about
to deny her.  This was what I'd needed for so very long, the willingness
of a horny preteen as we both watched erotic movies of little foreign
girls prance and play around in the nude.

My right hand tugged lightly on Marsha's right hip, urging her to lean
even harder into me.  She responded without any delay, scooting onto my
lap and lifting her left hand up and over my head as she turned to her
left.  Words then fell from her lips that seemed like silk in my ears.

"Do you like to see lots of little girls doing naughty stuff in the
nude, Riley?"

"Mmm hmmm.  I sure do."

She hesitated for a few moments, trying to choose her next words
carefully.

"Do you like me, Riley?"

"Yes I do, Marsha.  I just didn't want to frighten you by doing anything
that might seem scary or overly provocative."

"If I let you, what would you like to do with me, Riley?"

"Please you for as long as you could stand it."

She immediately sucked in a deep breath, as if she was about to fall
over the edge of a tall precipice.  I'm sure it must have felt as if I
was about to send her straight over the edge of a cascading waterfall,
her heart beating wildly and her body shaking out of fear and
excitement.

"How?"

I pressed my mouth tenderly into her left ear, whispering as softly as I
could.

"By using my tongue on you like that naughty man did with that little
school girl.  How would that make you feel, Sugar?  Would you like
that?"

Her answer was a high-pitched whimper, drawn out in one long
illustration of release, her right hand already buried between her
chubby thighs and about to repeat what she had done a few moments
before.

"Yeeeeaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!"

Before I could encourage Marsha to let me get started, she abruptly
pulled her hand out from between her legs, clamped them together and
twisted her face in my direction, her eyes locked hard onto mine.

"Riley?"

"Mmm hmmm?"

"You may not like me after you see me."

"Why NOT, Angel?"

Her downward faced response filled me with trepidation, her lower lip
jutting out and her body about to emit a series of paiful cries.
Whatever she was about to say was tearing her up inside.

"I look like that little girl at that school."

I knew what she was talking about but needed for her to tell me.

"How is that, Angel?"

"I don't have any titties or even any hair down there."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Precious.  I think little girls that
look like that are much sexier than girls with big boobs, anyway."

"But, don't you like to look at girls like my sister more?  Their
titties are much prettier and softer than mine."

"No, Honey, I don't.  I'd much rather see and enjoy precious little
angels like the ones on the screen than girls with big titties any day!"

"Honest, Riley?"

"Show me, Marsha.  I promise I won't laugh or make fun of you, okay?"

"Promise?"

"Yes, I do!"

Marsha shifted her right hand from her lap to the top edge of her
tubetop, hooking her index finger inside the elastic and then looking at
my face.  She was about to show a man what she looked like for the first
time since she was six, five years not adding significantly to her
development.  She watched me intently as her finger dragged the snug
material down, slowly exposing more and more of her body until I saw two
gentle mounds of flesh tipped with pink points.

Her nipples were firm and distinct, surrounded by dime-sized patches of
darker skin that drew my attention inward like natural targets.  Her
breasts were two small rises of tender softness, genuinely sexy and
urging me to lean forward so I might sample how they felt and how she
tasted.

Once she had drawn the material all the way to her waist, she let go and
then looked at me, waiting for me to make an honest evaluation of her
petite development.  My left hand was just the right way to convince her
that I was much more sincere than she imagined, a slow and gentle
exploration of her breasts from top to bottom, left to right and all
around the periphery to each firm point.

I didn't stop until she was panting and watching my hand and fingers
anxiously, rolling her nipples around and delicately tweaking each firm
nib, her chest heaving and trying to keep her adequately filled with
enough oxygen so she could enjoy everything I was doing to her.

A loud series of high pitched squeals and giggles got our attention,
both of us looking at the laptop screen in time to see a young man
running his fingers up and down the length of both little girls'
pussies, their legs lifted up out of the way so he could venture along
their softness openly and at will.  Another minute went by before both
preschoolers were much quieter and whimpering, the young man now working
their nubbins and vaginas at the same time.

As soon as his face was pressed to one of their naked cunnies, Marsha's
right hand went back down between her thighs, tugging her skirt up far
enough to show me her now soaked panties.  There was no doubt at all
that she was incredibly aroused and in need of my talented tongue.
She'd have to wait just a little while longer, my attention being
directed to the screen as the young man shifted his mouth from one
little preschooler to the other.  I envied the man at his proximity to
such lovely naked cunnies, both of his partners filled with a mixture of
lust and laughter.

Everything seemed to go fairly calmly for another minute, until we
watched the young man rise from his position over the girls, undo his
pants and expose his short prick.  Marsha watched amazed as he shifted
the slightly larger little girl to the edge of the bed and begin to work
the end of his dick up and down the length of her spit-slickened cunny.

I knew what was about to happen, her knees pushed back against her chest
and his cock worked back and forth against the opening of her tight
slit, eventually forced just inside the impossibly snug orifice until he
was able to fuck her.  Unfortunately, in the process of enjoying
himself, the poor preschooler began to softly cry, her body being forced
open much sooner than it was meant to.

All too soon, the other girl was the object of his focus, his cock
repeating the inward journey into her body until he was huffing and
puffing as she softly whimpered and cried.  After he was satisfied, the
only thing that made the last few minutes worth watching was his
repeated journeys between their legs with his tongue, cleaning up the
mess he made by licking and sucking them clean.  Just before the movie
ended, both little girls were genuinely hugging and kissing the lucky
fucker, the obvious intent of their smiles and affection in surprising
juxtoposition to the somber tone of their whimpers and cries moments
before.

When the movie restarted, Marsha began to tug the waistband elastic of
her panties down using only her right hand, her skirt tugged almost all
the way to her hips.  It was fun to watch her struggle, her left hand
tightly holding me in place by my neck.  In less than a minute of her
underwear being drawn halfway down her thighs, my mouth was locked onto
her left nipple and my left hand was gently stroking her incredibly fat
and smooth pussy, an impassioned plea from my eleven year old partner to
help her finish getting undressed so we could try what had been seen on
my laptop screen.

Before I knew what had happened and where we were, Marsha was laying
naked on her back in my bed, my face between her thighs and my tongue
slowly sending ripples of electricity through her clitty and toward her
brain.  It was cruel to tease her by drawing out her first orgasm with
me, but I had no desire to miss out on enjoying my first sexual liason
with a preteen.

I'm not sure who was more amazed at my stamina, Marsha or me!

I kept her going for over two hours straight, her constant whimpering
and erratic bucks up into my mouth imploring me to help her achieve
release.  I wasn't about to miss out on any measure of her arousal, my
first alliance with a hairless and chubby preteen not about to be wasted
by stumbling through it amateurishly.  If I was going to go to jail for
tonguing a hairless middle school student, I was going to enjoy every
moment of the time I had with her.

Right after midnight, Marsha let out a crescendo whimper, ending with
her body convulsing wildly under my face for about a minute, then her
moans stopping completely.  I knew she was still alive and enjoying my
talents because of her body's willingness to continue to provide me with
a continuous stream of upward lurches.  She was out cold, but her body
was still able to convulse and spasm.

When she awoke, I was laying next to her, my left hand holding my head
propped up, my left elbow planted against the bed next to her right
shoulder, my right hand gently stroking her pussy from clitty to vagina
and a broad smile all over my face.  Her smile was all the response I
needed to slip my middle finger deeper into her vulvar cleft, teasing
her clitty and dipping almost dangerously inside her vagina.

Her hips quivering and rising to greet the foreign intruder spoke louder
than any words she could have uttered, my digit urging carefully deeper
until the end of my middle finger was being hugged by the slick warmth
of her virgin body.  She was indeed a virgin, having never been with a
man but without her hymen, the constant hunger she felt while borrowing
her mom's vibrator urging her to push it much deeper than she should
have that one time.

My finger travelled all the way inside her body, her hips twisted almost
uncomfortably up into my intrusion and anxious for something that had
held her fascination since her body was mature enough to send constant
messages of arousal to her brain.

She never had to utter a single syllable to me, her left hand tugging at
my right shoulder and silently urging me to do something that I'd longed
for since I was but a growing teen.

Prior to having sex with her, I needed to enjoy the sweet taste of a
virgin one last time before she was turned into a woman, my tongue and
fingers journeying where my cock soon would.  It was just as the sun was
coming over the horizon that we joined, my aching dick tenderly slipping
deeper and deeping inside her tight pussy until our public mounds met.

Once we were completely joined, I let her become accustomed to the
sensation of a man deep inside her body and was surprised when Marsha
began to gyrate almost wildly under me.  Whatever delusion I had about a
young preteen being afraid of fucking was lost the moment Marsha began
to thrust up into me, her intense need to feel what it was like to have
a man invade her tender body controlling her actions for the next half
hour.

She didn't quit until she had enjoyed three vaginal orgasms and I pumped
her full of my sticky goo just once.  I'd never be able to repeat the
experience and revelled in the sensation of my seed spilling inside her
glove-tight canal and seeking out every crevice and small passage deep
within.

After I rolled her on top of me, she fell asleep, her body just heavy
enough to fill me with a tremendous sense of satisfaction.  This wasn't
just a little girl.  This was now a full fledged woman, her body easily
accepting my need to share this special moment and hungry for yet more.

I heard her dad, younger sister and mom get into their car downstairs
and then drive away, the incredibly immoral sensation of having sex with
this child urging me to fuck her that much more.  I had the good sense
to wait until her folks were all the way down the driveway before making
Marsha start to squeal all over again, and then wait until she was awake
a couple of hours later to finish her off by an hour long tongue
twister.

Marsha seemed just as insatiable for continuous tongue tickles and
fucking as I was, one more love making session on my bed before we tried
it in the shower.  My eleven year old lover became so precocious that
she insisted we fuck outside, barely hidden from view beneath the top
edge of the water in the pool.  It had to have been the most exciting
and terrifying thing I had ever done, fucking an eleven year old in her
parents' pool, both of us naked and neither of us smart enough to bring
along any clothes or towels.  If her folks had suddenly driven up, I'd
have been dead and she'd be headed for a convent.

We fucked in her dad's den where her younger sister had been touched and
ogled by her dad and who knows how many other men last night, Marsha's
constant need to see her body being violated in as many places as she
could.  Ramming my cock inside her tight cunny on her dad's desk seemed
to really get her off, the mental image of her dad slowly masturbating
to his collection of dirty pictures filling my eleven year old partner
with so much ambition that I had a hard time satisfying her.

To my horror, she even wanted to make love right in the middle of their
driveway, in plain sight of the street little more than two hundred feet
away.  The only thing that saved us from being seen were the collection
of bushes and trees that lined the front of their property and blocked
anyone from seeing me fill her chubby body with my cock.  It was a
thrill, but one that I truly didn't want to repeat.

I was eventually able to convince her to return to my apartment so we
could watch more hardcore videos of little Asian girls being touched,
tickled, licked and fucked, and repeat what we saw on the screen until
her folks returned.  By three in the afternoon, she was fast asleep on
my bed, having enjoyed a nice long shower fuck and then a comfortable
snooze afterward.  I had the good sense to put her clothes back on her
while she was asleep, just in case her mom and dad showed up
unexpectedly.

It was fortunate I had thought that far enough ahead, because while I
was quietly snoozing on the couch, Marsha still in my bed, Belinda
knocked on my front door.  It took a lot of coordination, but I was
finally able to twist the lock and doorknob in the right direction to
admire the woman's smiling face.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead!  It took you long enough.  What were you up
to, anyway?  Were you two doing anything fun and naughty?"

"Uhhhhh . . . come on in, Belinda.  I think Marsha's still asleep.  We
were up all night talking and doing stuff on the computer."

"Really?  All night, huh?  I guess you must have tuckered her out, huh
Riley?"

"I guess you could say that.  How about if we go check on your eldest
little angel?"

"I sure hope she's still dressed.  I'd hate to spoil anything that you
two were planning before dinner."

"Come on, Belinda.  You know I'm not supposed to conduct myself like
that."

"Well, it'd still be fun to think about it, huh Riley?"

"Why don't you go check on my date and I'll be waiting out here until
you get back."

Belinda winked at me and sauntered her way through the front room,
wiggling her hips as she disappeared beyond the bedroom door.  She came
back less than ten seconds later, a deep crimson blush and the most
wicked grin on her face I could imagine.

"Why, Riley Timbler!  What on Earth did you convince my little girl to
DO with you all night long?"

"Pardon?"

I felt faint at the prospect of what Belinda might have been able to
discern from our long sexual exploits all night, my mind eventually
concluding that the smell of sex must have still hung heavy in the
bedroom.

"You come over here right now, young man!"

Her grin and the sexually explicit gesture she was using with her left
middle finger to call me toward her confused me, her verbal tone hinting
that she might genuinely be angry, but her physical demeanor not
illustrating the same level of animosity for me.  When I pushed my head
through the partially opened door and looked inside, I saw what had
gotten Belinda's attention.

Marsha was laying on her back just as I had left her, but had tugged her
skirt all the way to her hips and had her hand deep inside her panties,
unconsciously masturbating herself while she was asleep.  I wasn't sure
what shocked me more, seeing Marsha stimulating her clitty while
sleeping or Belinda encouraging me to come see her do it.

"Why Riley Timbler!  You must have coaxed something from deep inside my
little girl last night, you naughty boy.  What did you two do, anyway,
have sex all night long?"

It was time to see just how she'd react to a sudden flash of honesty, my
life about to be at an end anyway.

"Well, since you've caught me, I guess I should tell the truth.  After
Marsha and I watched some of your husband's hardcore porn of little
preschool Asian girls having sex with each other and lots of very
fortunately men, we got so aroused that she FORCED me into making love
to her for hours and hours.  We got so wild while you were gone today
that we even did it in the pool and on Branson's desk in his den.  It
was a real turn-on for Marsha to think about her daddy doing his work
right there next to where I drove her crazy with sexual passion, her
appetite so insatiable, that we only recently fell asleep.  Now that you
know, I guess you're going to take her away from me, aren't you
Belinda?"

"You naughty boy, Riley.  I figured you were after one of my daughters,
but never would have suspected you'd go for my chubby little princess,
instead of my little blonde bombshell.  Starla's daddy has had the hots
for his baby girl since she was three and figured like all the men last
night, you'd want to undress and fondle HER just as much as they did.  I
guess Marsha's the lucky one to have captured your fancy and convinced
you to spend all your efforts tending to her needs, so her daddy could
keep his focus on his youngest little angel."

"Pardon?"

"Have you convinced Marsha to move in with you or are you going to keep
the pretense up so her friends and the neighbors don't suspect you two
of banging away like wild rabbits?"

"We never got that far."

"How many times did you two go at it, anyway?"

"I don't know.  Maybe a dozen."

"Did she enjoy it?  Did she have any orgasms?"

"Plenty!"

"Huh-huh-how many?"

"I'm not sure.  I lost count after twenty."

I saw Belinda genuinely suck in a deep breath and her hips lurch forward
slightly, the immoral sensation of what I might have done filling her
head and body with tremendous arousal and excitement.

"Was she tight?"

"Belinda!  Shame on you for asking something so personal!  A gentleman
doesn't discuss such intimate details, even with the little girl's
mother."

Imagine my horror when Belinda began to move toward her little girl, an
expression of intense focus on the woman's face as she walked straight
toward her first born.  The next thing that I saw almost made my heart
stop, Belinda reaching to Marsha's hips and gently tugging my eleven
year old lover's panties straight down her chubby thighs, exposing the
little girl's hand, her middle finger slowly rolling her plump pussy
around.  It didn't take a rocket scientist to understand just how hungry
the little girl's clitty was, the slow stimulation of her own middle
finger generating brief impulses of sexual energy and causing Marsha's
hips to twitch toward her mom's gaze.

Then, to add the ultimate in unbelievability, I watched mystified as
Belinda licked her right middle finger and gently worked it up and down
Marsha's tight cleft, the end of her digit eventually disappearing deep
inside the little girl when Belinda found her vaginal orifice.  As soon
as Belinda's finger was halfway in, Marsha began to lurch upward in
regular, rhythmic gyrations, her body still anxious for more.

"Riley!  Come here."

My feet acted without my brain's influence, my brain not so certain I
should comply so readily and willingly.  Before I knew where I was, I
was standing next to where Belinda was sitting, waiting for the mother
to begin to beat me brutally.

Before another word was uttered, Belinda removed her finger and stood
up, motioning me to suck on her slickened finger when she gesticulated
it in front of my nose.

"Lick this!"

Following her instructions, I gently grasped her wrist and proceeded to
clean off whatever Belinda had collected.  To push my luck to the
precipice of my own existence, I turned her hand and stuffed her finger
all the way into my mouth, sucking and licking at the same time.  It
must have made an impression, because Belinda almost lost it right then.

Once her finger was clean, she gathered her thoughts and tugged me
toward the same location she had just vacated, asking me wordlessly to
take her place and then standing where I had been moments before.

"If you truly pleasured my daughter, prove it!  I wanna see you do it to
her again."

Knowing I was about to die, I figured I might as well go out with a
hardon, so I leaned forward and kissed Marsha on the mouth, slipping my
tongue between her plump lips and lovingly wrestling with her tongue.
After a few seconds of gentle kisses, I leaned back and then tugged
Marsha's tubetop down far enough to expose her erect nipples and gentle
mounds, leaning in to lick and suck on each one for another minute.  It
didn't take long after that before I was face-first between my eleven
year old lover's thighs, pushing her hand and fingers out of the way so
I could use my pink pickle instead.

Marsha awoke in the middle of her next cum, her legs clamped around the
back of my head and her hands trying to keep me locked in place.

The instant the little girl realized that her mom had just watched her
have a sweet cum, Marsha began to convulse wildly, making louder and
more excited noises until she was just about screaming.  The last thing
I remember before Belinda walking out of the room with a wide grin on
her face was having my slacks and shorts pulled off by Marsha, my dick
thrust as far inside that sweet cunny as it could go and then hammering
like a madman into that darling little chubby angel.

We fucked for the next half hour, neither of us believing that her
mother had witnessed me pushing my dick inside the little girl's
hairless cunny and then stroking her as deep and as firmly as I ever had
any women before in my life.  The rest of the early evening was spent
wordlessly together in bed and in the shower, our trip into their house
after we had cleaned each other up so we could face the music and pay
the piper.

The moment Belinda saw us walk through the side entry door, she ran
toward us, arms wide to her sides and outstretched as if she hadn't seen
her little girl in years.  Marsha got a warm tight embrace which lasted
far longer than I imagined possible, the mature mother of two
relinquishing her daughter's grasp to then hug me as well.

"Oh, Riley!  I can't tell you how thankful I am that you've given my
little girl exactly what she's wanted for years.  She's never looked so
content and satisfied ever before, her face glowing and her body looking
as if you two had been at it all night.  You've done more for her than
you'll ever know."

The woman hugged me far tighter than I'd have imagined, my confusion so
deep that I wasn't quite sure Belinda understood what I had been up to.
Consider how it felt for her to lead both of us into Branson's den
unannounced, Belinda's husband banging his nine year old little girl on
the very same desk that I had Marsha, the younger girl panting and
whimpering while her daddy thrust repeatedly into her tiny gash.

That's all it took for Marsha, my young lover turning around to face me
and then locking a grip on my face that felt as if she was trying to
suck my lips right off.  The only thing I knew to do was please my
little angel, undressing her as we kissed and then lifting her onto the
desk next to her little sister, pushing my face between her chubby legs
and giving her a continuous orgasm that lasted for over an hour.

Starla actually looked jealous of her older sibling, Marsha openly
enjoying the talented skills of my tongue as it rambled artfully between
her thighs.  It was only after Branson and Starla cleared the top of the
desk that I lifted my young lover and rolled her over my body, both of
us undoing and lowering my pants and shorts so we could do what her
loving daddy had just shared with his youngest little girl.

We never swapped partners, my lover quite content to have me fill her
with as much goo as I could produce, her daddy's attention on his
favorite little girl maintained until well into the late evening.

Marsha did eventually move in with me, or should I say I moved into her
room.  Her bedroom instantly became our new apartment, an almost
constant stream of whimpering noises and sexually explicit moans coming
from our bed whenever either of us felt the need for some long, slow
lovemaking.

Branson and Belinda eventually had another little girl, Belinda now able
to share in her own little lover's needs while Branson and I satisfied
ours.  I was permitted to sample the infant's tender cunny, waiting my
turn after Branson, Starla and Marsha.

On more than one evening during the week, all three of the adults are
usually pleasing our young partners and watching and/or listening to as
many movies of little girls having sex with lucky and anonymous men of
all ages and sizes.

I never imagined I'd be so willing to have sex with an eleven year old in
front of her mom and dad, while they were doing the same to little girls
of their own choosing.

The only advice I have is to rid yourself of unnecessary personal
baggage and then look out for chubby little girls that don't think
they're pretty enough.  Hang onto your shoes if you find one, but
remember, treat her gently at first and be ready to take lots of sexual
enhancement medications if you can't keep yours up for four or five
hours at a time.

--
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.