Note to reader -- Sarah's writing has been cleaned up to make it easier to read. Web slang and abbreviations have been expanded to standard prose forms, and some spelling and grammar corrected.
Kyle was sorting his mail, examining each envelope. In most cases he could tell it was junk mail and discard it unopened. He had to be on the lookout for bills, though.
He was surprised to see near the bottom an envelope addressed by hand in a somewhat childish script:
Mr. Kyle Smith
100 Chestnut Street
London, MA 02799
It had been sent with a liberty bell "Forever" stamp, and there was no return address.
July 2, 2009
Dear Mr. Kyle Smith:
This feels very weird. I think maybe I'm going crazy.
I'm getting thoughts from your head, all the time. I told my sister and she just laughed at me, saying I was too old for make believe like that. My sister likes me and is usually willing to listen, so if she laughs at me I know I can't tell anybody else.
So when you put your return address on that letter you sent I quick wrote it down and thought I'd mail a letter to see if you are real. Maybe I'm just writing to myself and it will never get to you because you don't exist.
If you're a real person, please stop putting thoughts in my head! I don't know how you're doing it, but I don't like it very much at all. I like having my own thoughts, thank you very much. I'm very different from you and you have thoughts that aren't right for me. So stop it!
A few days later a second letter arrived.
July 5, 2009
Dear Mr. Smith:
I didn't like some of the thoughts you had when you read my letter. Not at all. I am not some old friend who is playing a joke on you or an old enemy trying to bug you. I have never met you and I don't want to meet you!
But you did have a thought that helped me. You wondered what it would be like to be a mind-reader -- not that you believe it's possible, but you were thinking of science fiction. You decided you could convince yourself it was real if you got thoughts you never could get any other way. Then you thought of the dynasties in ancient China that you made a point of remembering from college for some reason. I looked it up on Wikipedia, and they were right, except one was missing, but probably I remembered it wrong or you did. I've never studied Chinese history. I can't be getting new facts in my head just from being crazy, right? I really am getting your thoughts!
That convinces me. But I can prove it to you too. It's not just your thoughts about Chinese history that I know. I'll write down your thoughts right now: You're watching a baseball game and the team you like is losing. You are a Yankees fan but here in Boston it's not good to tell people that, so you don't. And Boston is winning, 8-0. You realize you can smell your underarm odor (blech!) and ought to take a shower but you know you won't be with anybody soon, so why bother. When that ad comes on for the Volkswagen, you think the girl is ugly even though you know most people must think she is sexy. She reminds you of that girl Jean from high school. And now you're going to get another beer, Coors.
See, I do know what you think. No one else could know that, right?
So if you were trying to give me thoughts, you have succeeded. Now will you please, please get your thoughts out of my head! I don't like lots of them and I want my head back to myself, OK?
July 7, 2009
No! Ouch! Thoughts like that are worse! I don't want to feel you feel frightened and angry like that! I'm trying to think how I can help you have more normal thoughts again, but I don't know how. You're not going crazy, really, so you can calm down. I didn't like having your thoughts before, but now I really hate it because they're so scared.
When you think maybe you're not crazy, and think maybe it's real, you're mad at me like it's my fault. Like I'm trying to make you miserable. But it wasn't my idea! I just wrote because I wanted to get you to stop putting thoughts in my head.
Since you're so scared and feeling crazy, I'm so so glad I didn't tell you who I was. I almost just mentioned it because I assumed you must know. But now I'd be frightened if you knew.
It wasn't my idea to know what you were thinking, but now I can see it wasn't your idea either. I wasn't sure before if I was getting all your thoughts, but it really seems like I am. (I wish I wasn't getting some kinds in particular.) But if you were trying to send your thoughts to anyone, I think I would know that, and I don't get thoughts about wanting to send thoughts at all.
I can see you don't have any idea who I am. I didn't get that before. All I told you was that I'm an 11-year-old girl, so that's all you know. All you've seen is two letters that came in your mail without return addresses. Everything else is just what you imagine.
July 10, 2009
OK, I can see that you have tons and tons of questions and can't stand just getting a letter every few days. I see that if you are going to feel calmer about it, then you need to hear from me more often. I'm not sure how to make you feel calmer, but I'll try.
Yeah, I'll see if we can do this by email or chat or something. I just have to make sure you can't find out who I am.
So, you think gchat will work? OK, you tell me what account you want to use. You hadn't finished figuring out whether you wanted to use the one you had or start a new one. Let me know when you figure it out. Well, that doesn't make sense, does it? When you figure it out I will just know.
July 11, 2009
Google chat window:
SecretSarah51: Yeah, here I am.
ScaredBug007: Where are you?
SecretSarah51: I'm in my bedroom.
ScaredBug007: OK, I'm in my study.
Are you still there?
SecretSarah51: This is weird. See, you just wrote to tell me where you are, but before I saw that I had already gotten a dozen of your other thoughts first. And some were more important and personal, and have nothing to do with telling me where you are. I wish I could make you stop having thoughts like that. I'm 11, all right? I don't want to think about stuff like that at all.
You know what I mean. Remember, I know what you're thinking.
Yes, I have all my clothes on. I don't want to tell you things about my body.
ScaredBug007: Can you just ignore my thoughts and answer the questions I type?
SecretSarah51: I can try.
ScaredBug007: Do you live nearby?
SecretSarah51: This is too hard for me to chat like this. I'll send you an email to explain, OK?
[Sarah is offline. Messages you send will be delivered when Sarah comes online]
July 12, 2009. 3:45pm.
Let me try to explain. Sometimes your thoughts are like a giant storm, all so fast and jumbled they just make my head hurt. And when you think about me listening to you, that's the way they get. And then when I type and you have thoughts in response to what I'm typing, it's even worse.
So it works a lot better if I can just listen in when you're relaxed and thinking about other stuff too and not expecting to hear from me right away.
I know you don't want to wait three days either. I can still write you pretty often if that makes sense -- every few minutes, even, if your brain can calm down between.
So now some answers.
I can't think of anything special about me or anything I've done or eaten :-) that would make this happen. I'm just an ordinary girl, pretty much.
I live pretty close to you here in Massachusetts, but not that close. I'm not in the same town. If I was nearby I could have snuck by your house to see if you were real but I can't get there.
I live with my parents. My father is a salesman of high tech stuff, and my mother is some kind of manager. I have one older sister. She's 15. We have an 8-year-old golden retriever who is my best friend, even though my mom and dad got him for my sister. I'd like to have horseback lessons but we can't afford it. I tried to learn flute but hated it so my parents didn't make me keep going. I don't have many friends, because the other girls are all stuck up or mean or clueless or something.
My sister is a lot of trouble to my parents. She smokes and comes home drunk on weekends. My parents were always very relaxed about raising us but now they made a curfew for her of 1:00am, and even that late she still breaks it a lot. They argue and she ends up screaming at them. She's always been nice to me, but when I ask her why she's doing all those bad things she just tells me I'm too young to understand. Then she started hanging out with this older guy who's 19 and goes to college. My parents thought they were probably having sex anyway, and if the two of them wanted to sleep together in her room at least they wouldn't have to sneak around, drive while drunk and that sort of thing. I don't like having him around. He just ignores me pretty much, but it still changes things around the house. My sister is a little calmer and doesn't stay out so late, though, so that part is good.
So see, we're just a kind of ordinary family.
I can tell that when you think about me reading your thoughts, you are trying to have all sorts of bizarre ones. Like all those ones about blood and guts and torture. They're not great, but I've seen horror movies too.
Maybe you could practice meditation or something? Isn't that about controlling your thoughts and calming them down?
I wish I didn't get your thoughts, but I don't want to be all negative. I am learning a lot from you all the time. You drive your car, use a credit card to buy stuff, and plan your life. Usually out in the world you know exactly what to do. You know how to talk to other people and never get embarrassed. That is so, so cool. All these facts just zip into your head when you need them, stuff you learned in school, math and history and everything. I can even tell I am starting to write more like a grown-up because of you.
July 12, 2009. 5:32pm.
I know, I have all the power here in some ways. I know about you, and you don't know about me except what I tell you.
But in a lot of ways _you_ have all the power. I have all your thoughts, but I can't _help_ having them. I can't really shut it off. If I get really wrapped up in something else then I don't get your thoughts, and that works OK for an hour at a time. But then when my concentration fades I get the main points of all your thoughts you've been having in the mean time. So I can't really escape.
I don't worry so much about how everyone thinks this is impossible, but you think you must be going crazy if you think it's happening. But all you are getting is letters and emails. It's different for me because it's happening right in my head. I guess you're right science says it can't happen. I figured there were things they didn't know, so that part didn't bother me so much.
But something bugs me. I guess there's no need to pussyfoot around. It's your thoughts about sex that I don't want. I'm 11 years old, and I'm still completely a little girl when it comes to sex. I'm not interested in the subject and I don't want to think about it.
But you think about it a lot. You look at teenage girls and think how they're sexy, then look again when you can. Why bother? You know you're not going to ask them out or anything.
You think about me being a girl sometimes. I'm trying to think of it like you're thinking like a little boy who is just curious about girls, but you know that isn't everything. And you're not a little boy. I have a totally flat chest, OK? Does that help? I know how babies are made but I think it's incredibly gross.
I know you have a twin sister. When you were growing up you felt kind of protective and you never thought about her sexually. So can you pretend that I'm not your twin sister but your little sister? And you don't want to make your little sister think about sex, right? Because you care about her?
July 13, 2009. 3:35pm.
Oh, man, oh man. OK, I knew you hadn't jerked off since you got my first letter and it was for my sake, I knew that but thought it was only common courtesy. But last night -- it was worse because I was sound asleep and it woke me up. Yeah, I knew before I went to bed that you were thinking about it but I didn't think you'd really do it.
I think I understand a little better why you think about sex so much. If it can end in something that feels that good... I didn't actually feel good myself when you did, I didn't feel the pleasure, but I could tell when you did.
And I'm starting to understand more too. I can't make you into a saintly kind uncle just for my sake. You have a right to be a young man like you are. If I'm a little sister, then I'm the brattiest, most annoying little sister there ever was. I'm in the bathroom with you, in your bedroom at night, under the covers with you, and right inside your head.
From the beginning it's been weird as you experience being tall and strong and heavy (I mean compared to me), stuff like that. It's definitely very weird that you have a penis and stand up to pee. But I don't like to know how it gets hard and that back and forth with your hand and everything.
July 13, 2009. 4:22pm.
OK, I can see that would be upsetting. I'll try not to talk about your penis and stuff. You're telling me it's worse for you having me confirm in detail that I'm right there with you in your private thoughts rather than having you just know it but not have to think about it.
Maybe I should stop writing for a while. Just think of me as a little girl doing the best she can trying to digest a man's thoughts. And you can do what you want, though if you can keep things on the clean side I would appreciate it. Maybe when you sense I'm next to you in a "private" moment imagine me with my hands over my ears, trying as hard as I can not to listen in --but it doesn't work. Then maybe at least you won't feel mad at me.
July 20, 2009. 8:08pm.
It's been a week now. You wonder if I'm still getting your thoughts. I am. I'll tell you if it stops, OK?
I've been hesitating to write to you because you're embarrassed about this next part, but you finally admit it to yourself: You miss getting my emails. It adds excitement to your life. I guess it's kind of nice that since we don't have any choice about this I can be something a little positive to you. But I'm getting your thoughts and it ruffles them up to hear from me, when mostly I'd like to keep "me" out of your thoughts.
I'm learning more and more what it's like to be a 28-year-old man. I'm learning tons of stuff, and my homework is easier all the time. When I get in an awkward conversation, especially with a boy, I remember how you think about things and I know what to say better.
I remember people saying that boys thought about sex all the time, and I assumed they were joking. But that's what it's like to be a man, or at least that's what it's like to be you. I'm trying to get used to it.
August 2, 2009. 8:51pm.
The most amazing thing happened! I woke up this morning and I can't read your thoughts any more! So you're a free man, and I'm a free girl! You've changed me, and it's been for the better --mostly.
I hope everything goes well with you.
August 6, 2009. 9:33am.
You are an awful, awful person. I hate you!
OK, I lied. I never stopped reading your thoughts, but I thought that if you didn't think I was, it would be easier on you and eventually easier on me too. That was a good reason, wasn't it?
Boy was I wrong! The very night I told you I couldn't listen in any more you started going to bars.
Last night, you knew Melissa was hoping to be your steady girlfriend, you knew it from the time you were talking with her in the bar. You played along and acted like you were interested in that too, but the whole time you were just trying to get her to have sex with you. And then she did let you, and you didn't even stay the night with her! You hurt her feelings so much, and just for sex!
I knew you tried to do the same thing with Laurie a few nights before, and I didn't like it, but at least she turned you down (good for her!).
Yeah, and now I know what it's like to have sex. I'm not a virgin any more, not in my head. What I really don't get is why she wanted it so much -- to let you do it to her. She thought it was the start of something more, but even so.
For what you did to Melissa, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!
August 9 2009. 4:22pm.
Oh, please, please, please, stop renting them! I can't stand the videos where the girls are getting tied up and raped -- and the horse. Please, I'm only 11! And the ones up their butt, and all that.
Look, I'm just a girl, and I don't understand how men work. I see now I shouldn't judge you about Melissa, and you never said you were a saint, I realize that. I'm not perfect either. But can you at least understand how a girl would feel that way? Sympathize with Melissa, the young woman? I guess you're right, there are girls who do the same thing -- go to bed with a guy because they want the sex, but he wants more. See, I'm trying to understand.
Please forgive me! You don't even really like that porn much yourself, you're just doing it to punish me.
I apologize, really I do! You can have sex with anyone you want, as long as they're willing. Or, maybe I shouldn't judge that either. Arrgh! It really would be so, so great if I didn't read your mind.
August 10, 2009. 11:16pm.
I am not some horrible monster just because I can read your thoughts, OK? I am a little girl. Let me repeat that: _a little girl_. If I could stop reading your thoughts, I would in a flash.
I am feeling very vulnerable with all that gross porn you are making me think about all the time. I want to cry (I do cry a lot since you started this awful porn). I want to look up at your with wide eyes and beg you to stop. That's the little girl way.
But you think about power and ask, "What's in it for me? Why should I care what she thinks?" Fine. You've made me grow up early. So I'll try a different way of telling you what's in it for you. I can sign in to your email and send things like they were from you. I'm thinking about writing your best friend Bud and confessing that you slept with his wife while they were engaged. I could think of some other things too. Maybe write to the IRS. Use your imagination.
But I hate being like this! I don't want to get into a fight with you. Can't we try to get along? I apologized for scolding you, so maybe could you just figure I'm punished enough? And then stop renting that gross stuff -- please?
August 13, 2009. 12:30pm.
Well, I didn't expect you to respect me for blackmailing you, but I'm glad it worked. Maybe it can make you a little happy to think I at least don't know what you're going to do or think next?
Thanks for adjusting what porn you watch. Now at least everybody acts like what's happening is OK with them.
So I'm going to try to stop writing you again. You'll live your life, and I'll just accept it and not make any comments. How's that?
September 19, 2009. 12:27pm.
Yeah, you haven't heard from me lately. Isn't that the way you want it? Isn't that best for everyone?
OK, here's a little news update. My sister is being a lot more reasonable, but her boyfriend sleeps over a lot now, not just weekends. And thanks to you, I know in detail what she's letting him do to her -- or begging him to do to her. But I don't blame you. I guess knowledge is a good thing, right?
And the porn is OK now, too (remember, he's just being a man, he's just being a man, he's just being a man...)
Look, I'll try to write to you every month or so just to say Hi, how's that?
October 30, 2009. 8:22pm.
I never get to forget to write you. It's so easy for you to remind me! I'll try to make it the end of the month, OK?
July 29, 2010. 12:30pm.
Not much new to report this month. It sure has been hot lately. Still reading your mind.
September 1, 2010. 8:01pm.
I had a good summer. In August we rented a cottage up in Maine for two weeks. I thought maybe if I was that far away for that long, I'd read your thoughts less. No such luck. We're still stuck together, kind of like Siamese twins. I guess you're unlucky because you have no private thoughts, and I'm unlucky because I can't make your thoughts go away. You're lucky because you can forget if you want that anything's different. I'm lucky because all of my own private thoughts are still private. I think I'd die if the situation was reversed. You'd be laughing hysterically at all the silly, stupid, ignorant, petty things I think all the time.
I'm glad things are going well with Zoe. And no, the sex doesn't bother me. I'm used to that part of you, and I'm glad you might really get a steady girlfriend like you want.
I can see that you realize you can't tell her about me reading your mind, because she wouldn't accept it. And it's a big enough part of your life that it is sad you can't share it with her.
And I can also see it's kind of like you're recording all your conversations without her permission. In theory if I got really mad at you I could tell the world her secrets and not just yours. I'd never do that, though, I promise. But you have to admit you were deliberately being mean to me before when I threatened to tattle, right?
Say, I've attached an essay I had to write over the summer for my English class. I'm curious what you think of it.
Your Siamese twin,
P.S. I turn 13 years old tomorrow!
September 5, 2010. 7:37pm.
Why am I suddenly saying more than I used to? I don't know, I just feel like it. I'm a girl, and girls are allowed to be silly and change their minds constantly. It's a constitutional right.
I couldn't pull anything over on you! You knew right off that I would get a free editing job on that essay just from you reading it! Thanks for reading it anyway. And thanks for caring enough to not want to just tell me all the mistakes. You wanted me to have to think things through myself.
You could have been very handy with take-home tests just by reading them... I'll try to be a good girl and not get you to help me cheat.
The picture I've attached, that's me! Tada!
I'm kind of self conscious, like a lot of 13-year-old girls, and it occurred to me that if you looked at my picture I would know exactly what you really thought of my looks, because you couldn't hide your reactions and just say nice things, like my parents and friends. That's not like cheating on homework, right?
I'm glad you met Zoe and that things are going well with her. I mean you had sort of hoped for more, I understand that, but you have to settle sometimes. I'm a terribly romantic girl and I won't even let anyone kiss me until I meet Prince Charming. But you're a grown-up and things are different for you.
Your bratty little sister,
September 5, 2010. 10:39pm.
My heart was beating so fast when I sensed you opening your email and opening that attachment. I was scared. I was so relieved that you think I'm cute, even though you think I have a long nose. And you got embarrassed knowing I'd know you thought that. Of course I've got a long nose (duh), so don't sweat it.
Now I have a better idea what boys and the other girls think when they look at me. And I'll be proud of my face, because my wonderful big brother thinks it looks nice.
I've attached another picture.
Your naughty little sister,
September 6, 2010. 8:51pm.
You say you know I'm not reporting all your thoughts. Well, that's right, but you were thankful before that I didn't say too much about private stuff.
You see I'm not really just a little girl any more. A little boob growth on my chest, a few curves starting lower down.
See what you think of this next picture.
Your sexy -- oops -- your cute little sister,
September 6, 2010. 9:21 pm.
No, silly, I'm not tormenting you! Go ahead and jerk off while looking at those pictures. I'd like it if you would!
Love from your little temptress,
September 6, 2010. 9:44 pm.
I'm a little girl, true, but give me a little credit (remember feminine intuition and all that -- it starts pretty young. It also helps if you can read all the thoughts of the person you are scoping out). I knew you were turned on seeing me in shorts and a T-shirt with my legs wide open like that. Would I send you a picture of myself in skimpy underwear and not expect you to be really turned on? I guess you might think I was testing you, but remember I could read your thoughts and knew you didn't really think that.
So I was in the middle of writing this email when you jerked off AGAIN. Oooo!
I have more pictures, but they aren't legal. Should I send them anyway? Maybe one at a time?
September 6, 2010. 11:15 pm.
So now you're feeling all guilty. I wish you wouldn't. Let me try to explain.
I said way back last year that I was a little girl, but we girls can change a lot in a year. Now I think boys are very interesting. Very, very interesting. Now I am very curious about, you know, that other stuff, and I maybe do things when I'm alone in bed that Queen Victoria wouldn't approve of.
I'm very interested in boys. But there's this problem.
There's an older guy, and it's kind of like he was sexually abusing me over and over when I was 11. Not that he meant to! And I know that whenever a man does something a girl doesn't like, she should tell a grown-up friend. He didn't tell me not to tell what he was doing, but I still couldn't, because even in this new day and age no one would have believed me. Boo-hoo! So it just happened and it was nobody's fault. But I knew a lot about this guy and how much he thought about sex, and every little thing that he thought about sex, and I was there when he had sex by himself and with other women...
It made all my love energy focus on him, if you know what I mean, instead of boys.
I love you,
SecretSarah51: I've taken my bra off now, and I'm massaging all over my left breast.
I can tell how totally hard your erection is, and I like that. Yeah, I'm wearing that very pair of panties that's in the picture, but I'm about to slide one hand inside. I can tell that the Astroglide feels so good as you fuck your hand.
Now I'm going to slide those panties off.
There's some downy hair there on my mound. Maybe if you're good I'll send you a picture of it -- tomorrow?
Now I'm spreading my legs wide apart.
I can tell you have your eyes glued to the picture where my panties are, just wishing you could see inside.
I wish you could too. I wish your hand was in between my legs instead of my own.
I'm wet inside my lower parts, so when my left hand leaves the keyboard and goes back down there it's going to get wet and kind of sticky, so...
now typing with just r hand to not get kb messy.
youre so turned on! mmmm!
i'm rubbing hard and wet dont want to type type x for each feel good
same time! that was so great!
September 9, 2010. 11:05 pm.
I hated you when I first started reading your mind, but the longer it went on, the more I liked you. When you didn't jerk off for those first days, I realized later it was out of respect for me. And seducing Melissa like that was bad, but you didn't do any of that when you thought I was reading your mind. So you really did care about me. Just not so much you would become a monk or something.
I was disgusted with you when you seduced Melissa partly because you were being a jerk, but also partly because I was jealous. I didn't want you sexually back then, but I didn't want you doing it with anyone else either! I did poke around and find my clit way back then and could get some good feelings, but there was no drive behind it -- no real interest.
I was confused before, but I thought I could just keep loving you in my head. Now I have a confession to make. But you've done some bad stuff too, right? When I got that you and Zoe were together and maybe going to become steady, I realized I was so, so jealous! I realized it wouldn't even work in my head if Zoe was in the picture.
And then I thought, what if I could really be your girlfriend, and it was so exciting! I hoped that if I could show you pictures of my body you might want me instead of her. I was trying to break you up so I could get you for myself! Can you forgive me for that? It worked, of course.
I've really liked our chats, but I want to meet you! I'd say I just want to talk, but I don't think you'd believe me.
All my love,
September 9, 2010. 11:43 pm.
You nearly came in your pants when you read I wanted to see you in person. That's wonderful!
Now, as to all your worries. You think I'm jail bait. Of course I am.
But who's going to find out? I'm certainly not going to tell. First, because I want you. Second, because I have to read your mind, and if you're in jail, that's going to be incredibly yucky, right? Because you would NOT be having a good time at all! I'm also not going to find out later that you were seducing me like you did Melissa -- I know all of your secrets. You can't make sneaky plans and fool me! And finally, you remember what I told you about my sister and her boyfriend? My parents would never turn you in, because of course they'll know it was my idea and one I've thought about a lot, not just some spur-of-the-moment impulse. They trust me to make my own decisions, and my big sister has already paved the way.
Even with all that, you're going to feel there are risks. I guess you're right, and I can't help that. But there's something else, too. Something really big for why we should meet even with the risks. It's not like you're just one guy and I'm just one girl and we can both just find someone else. We're Siamese twins, remember?
I am only 13, right? And when you first invaded my head I was 11 (almost 12, but I was still 11!). Kids are flexible and learn what we're taught. And you've been teaching me, day in and day out for all this time. To take a silly example, I'm now a Yankees fan. Imagine how tiring it would be to have your feelings in my head rooting for the Yankees while my own are rooting for the Red Sox! The conflict isn't in _your_ head, so you don't have any reason to change your favorite ball team, and besides you're 28. I'm just 13, so it's easy for me to change.
I don't know if it's good or not, but I can't help sort of belonging to you, if that makes sense.
What are you going to do if you meet someone like Zoe again? You still couldn't tell her about me, probably. If you could, what would she think knowing there was another girl in the bedroom? Because now I'm not a little girl any more, right? I don't cover my ears when sex happens, I'm right there getting all wet right along with her like I was with Zoe. Even when you're by yourself, I get wet whenever you get hard.
And what about me? How can I go out with a boy when there's always a man in my head who I love? I can't break up with you and try to forget about you. How could I ever get over you?
With all my love,
September 10, 2010. 12:15am.
So now you're kind of convinced, but wonder why we can't wait a few years, like until I'm legal at 16 (waaa!) or "emancipated" at 18 (waaaaaaaa!) or respectably mature at 21 (WAAAAAAAA!).
Do you want to go that whole time without even meeting your girlfriend? Without sex? I know I don't want to wait all by myself! Life is passing by. Sixteen is forever from now! And maybe you can forget about me, but for me it's like sleeping next to you every night. Imagine not having sex for three years when you have to sleep every night naked curled against a beautiful woman. The bed sags from the edges, so you're always pressed against her in the middle one way or another.
You know you're already guilty for those chats we've had online, I think. If you kept any of those pictures I've sent you lately, you're guilty too. So am I, but I'm a minor (sweet, innocent little me). I would never ever in a million years tell anyone anyway, but if you're going to be guilty, why not be very guilty? What's that expression, "Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb."
And I know that other thought you have. You feel guilty that you are attracted to me because I'm young. First, just because I'm 13. You know in a lot of cultures girls get married at 13. No one thinks their husbands are weird for wanting to marry them. Second, you're guilty because my body isn't fully grown yet. Lots and lots of guys like girls who aren't fully grown up. They did this study where a quarter of guys were more turned on by boobless girls than grown women. So you're way more normal than them, right? Because I at least do have boobs (don't you dare tell me they don't qualify!)
Please, Kyle. Please, pretty please? With a cherry on top? :-)
All my love, horny as anything,
September 10, 2010. 12:43am.
You are being so stubborn. You're always so rational about everything else.
It's way past my bedtime. I'm going to bed now, but I'm going to be rubbing my clit. I don't know if I'll be able to come when I have to think about how stubborn you're being. I might get frustrated, and it will be your fault!
All my love,
Kyle got home at 9:30 on Monday -- after work, a bite to eat, and a workout at the gym that left him feeling relaxed and energized.
"Hi, Kyle," he heard as he entered his bedroom.
Momentarily startled, he knew without a doubt who it must be.
Sure enough, the body beneath the covers was attached to the face he knew so well from pictures.
"Sarah?" he said. "Sarah..."
"Yes, Kyle, it's me."
"How did you get here?"
"You said you don't live in London, so how far did you have to go?"
"It's like twenty miles."
"That's a long way! Was it safe?"
"Maybe not all the way with those highways, but how else could I get here?"
"How did you get in? -- Oh right, I know where the emergency key is, so you do too ... Oh, Sarah, I can't..."
"We don't need to do anything illegal. Just get naked and come lie in bed here with me. Then we'll go to sleep. I'll have to snuggle against you to keep warm, of course." She had a very mischievous smile.
"Just one kiss?" the girl pleaded. "What harm could there be in one kiss?"
Kyle sat on the bed and reached out to run the back of his hand over her cheek.
"Oh, Sarah..." he whispered.
He leaned over slowly, her vibrant young face growing in his field of vision until their lips touched. It was magical, and he shuddered. Four more kisses, and he was lost.
Sarah sat up in bed, the sheet falling away to reveal the small breasts he had seen only in pictures.
"So beautiful," he murmured.
"Let me see *you*," she said, reaching out to fumble with his buttons.
Resigned, Kyle said, "God forgive me..."
She considered protesting that nothing would need forgiveness, but his thoughts had already moved on. Her left hand slid between her legs under the covers.
Kyle undressed quickly and sat on the bed, cock straight and hard.
Sarah pulled the covers aside to reveal that she was naked below the waist as well.
She slid herself onto her back and spread her legs wide, showing her pussy. He stared. The high-quality photos he had seen were only pale imitations of the real thing.
"I'm ready," she said, smiling hungrily. Heading off his objections, she said in turn, "I'm incredibly wet, see?" parting pussy lips with her left hand to show him. "And of course I'm a virgin, but I don't think it's going to hurt much, see?" He saw between her parted lips that there was little evidence of a hymen. And finally, "I can't get pregnant, since my period just ended yesterday."
And as he let himself down, lust surging through him, Sarah guided his cock with the gentle fingers of her right hand to her pussy, whose lips she had spread wide again with her left.
"Take me!" she whispered.
Kyle paused just a moment to think of what he was doing, then pushed and slid into heaven, her hot pussy enveloping his tip and then his shaft. He met no resistance.
"Oh, wow!" Sarah said, almost to herself, eyes wide but grinning. "Come quick, OK? Breed your virgin!" she said smiling.
Of course she would know his fantasy of sliding into a virgin and pulsing her full of sperm the instant he slid in. He used the very same words in the fantasy, "Breed my virgin."
"Dump the wriggling spermies up my cunt!"
She was 13, but how innocent could she be, using language like that -- the same words he used? Without intending to, he had given her a dirty mind.
He let himself go. After five tremendous thrusts he lunged deep and held still as his cock started twitching. Large gobs of cum surged into the 13-year-old's pussy, while his ecstasy blurred his vision.
After a few seconds, he panted, "What about you?"
"Shhh," she said, smiling. "We'll get to me later."
So he lay on her, holding his weight up a little, but enjoying the touch of the fresh young body beneath him. After several minutes, he recovered his breath and slid off.
Sarah snuggled against his side and said, "What we did is so primal -- penetrate and ejaculate immediately ... don't you think? Of course you do!"
It was eerie being with her. It would do him no good to deny his true feelings even if he wanted to.
"Yeah. Did it hurt?"
"Just a little pinch," she said.
"No girl I ever knew would want to have her first time with a guy be so quick," he said.
"Maybe, but I'm not just any girl," she said, reaching over to kiss him. "See, I knew you wouldn't have asked for it, because you're nice. I also knew you would love it, so I told you to go for it. And I also know that you are a sweet and considerate man and will now do anything to make the next round good for me."
Kyle's cock rose as Sarah let her fingers swirl idly over it.
"I happen to know," Sarah said, "and have known for some time, that you are delighted to lie on your back and have a girl mount you and get herself to come that way..."
Suddenly she sprang into action, growling, "My turn!" with a fiendish smile.
Kyle let himself be pushed onto his back and offered his rod to his young mate. He felt more alive, somehow, than he had in years.
The girl raised herself, and he admired the sight of the barely ripe female body above him, the girl intent on coupling their sex organs. The admiration was swept aside by pleasure as she pressed down against him, engulfing his entire penis in her vaginal space.
As she slid her body up and down, she felt the amazing sensation of cock deep in pussy, going in and out just the way she wanted. Variation was immediately apparent; a slight shift in position made the shaft of Kyle's cock press against front, rear or side of her vagina and the lips just outside. Direct or indirect pressure on her clit fed her sexual hunger in different delicious ways.
She got from Kyle's mind the memories of what his other partners had done in this position. By trying out their favorites she converged within a couple minutes on her own.
Seeing Kyle in his adult masculinity spread out below her took her breath away. His face glowed with pleasure, his eyes showing the appreciation he felt for her body -- hers! She received straight from his mind his tender yet lusty feelings for her young, supple, glowing skin and his extra excitement at her small breasts.
She was surprised when he suddenly lifted his head from the pillow. He enveloped her small nipple in his mouth and sucked, giving her a surprisingly powerful source of pleasure in counterpoint to the increasing pleasure in her pussy. It gave her pride that her little breast could engender such a greedy hunger in him and also satisfy it.
Kyle's pelvis was still, but Sarah knew he willed her to receive pleasure from his lower parts. As she jiggled and wiggled, her clit glowed and expanded. He wanted her orgasm desperately, and he wanted it to be fantastic -- this she knew directly.
Her body was the center. He had ceded the center to her gladly, encouraging her to draw pleasure from anywhere and everywhere, and she did, weaving strands together. Sounds: The slurping of his mouth on her breast, her own moans, the sound of flesh pressing and grinding on flesh -- even the rustle of the sheets fed into her pleasure. Smells: his shampoo, his own man's scent, and the odor of her arousal, which she still felt to be a little bit nasty -- and the more thrilling for that.
Although she was the center and hungrily assembling sensations from her nipple and clit and her pussy tube, she knew he still ruled -- she was the center only because he let her be. His hard shaft extended through all her surrounding pleasure-sensitive skin, extended deep inside her where his tip lay. Her vagina was as hot, wet and sticky up there as it was for its entire length, but up there it was not tied to her pleasure centers. It served to surround his tip and offer it pleasure whenever he wished. When the moment was right, regardless of the details of pressure and angle below, he would slide his tip against her hugging, subservient tube and fire his semen, the heart of the mating act. She had given him permission to do that when she took his cock up her pussy, and the knowledge of its inevitability stoked her fires further.
In the central space he had created for her, she adored the pleasure from all the strands of her senses, but above all her clit, and she wanted to tie them into a fabric of orgasm. Kyle switched his mouth to her other nipple and tweaked with his fingers the one his mouth had just left. Her glowing clit was right on the edge. All sensations were right, as was the knowledge that he wanted it for her and that -- he loved her. What was that? He loved her! That sincere thought crept quietly into his mind and quietly over to hers, where she realized its significance before he did. And as she realized it, she seized up with a stupendous orgasm. Suffused with an ecstasy beyond anything she had felt before, she gave a little cry as she gulped for air. She felt her pussy rhythmically squeezing Kyle's length.
And as the pleasure coursed through her, she felt his eagerness to satisfy his lust and breed her once more, as she knew he would. With the simple ease of masculine strength he grabbed her hips and lifted her a few inches off of him and then undulated his own hips to flash his cock in and out at lightning speed. The purpose now was for him to absorb the pleasure from her tight, wet and sweet upper cunt, and it built in him within seconds. The side benefit was the tugging and friction of his oscillating shaft on her soft tissues, prolonging her orgasm. His own yelp and deep insertion gave her another cause for orgasmic celebration as she thought of the sexy fluid that he was single-mindedly pumping into her -- along with the orgasmic thoughts she got from him.
His lightning thrusts finally slowed and he eased her hips down onto him again. She slid forward to land on his chest, tender adolescent girl skin against man flesh, both covered with a light sheen of perspiration.
"I love you," she said softly.
And as she knew he would, he echoed, "I love you too."
The lovers lay intertwined, enjoying each other's flesh, for many minutes. She even dozed off.
Sarah felt a warm anticipation rise in her. She both felt Kyle's cock rising and caught his awareness of the same fact. She felt a little thrill when Kyle said, "I want you to lie on your back once more, legs wide apart, and I plan to screw you for a good, long while." He didn't add that he was going to be highly attuned to her pleasure. He didn't say it out loud because it didn't fit the tone of his message, but she was glad to know it was true.
"Great!" Sarah said. She then reacted to a thought he had but didn't voice. "Just so you know, I am not going to do anal."
"Oh, yeah," he said, a little deflated. "You knew I was thinking about it -- but I wasn't going to say it!"
"I know that too," she said. "But I just wanted you to know."
"Sure!" he said. "A girl as young and pure as you --"
"Not just now -- probably never, OK?"
"Oh, Sarah," he said quietly, "That's totally fine. No guy gets to do every last thing he dreams about." He smiled.
And Sarah was relieved to know it really was going to be fine with him. There was room in his psyche for her desires and preferences, and not just because he felt he ought to compromise. He wanted a partner with her own opinions and wouldn't like it if she didn't express any.
Man cock slid into girl pussy for the third time. The leisurely fuck went on and on, pleasure simmering in the two partners. She knew from his mind that this evening was the best sex of his life. She knew he felt like he wanted to stay with her forever, but like a sensible grown-up he knew that while in the middle of fucking wasn't the best time to make important life decisions.
"Sarah," he whispered. "I want to come up your pussy once more. Is that OK with you?"
"Yes!" Sarah said. It was sweet of him to ask.
And with that he lifted himself enough to insert his fingers between their two bodies. His fluttery motion on her clit brought her orgasm barreling down on her. She felt him strain and pump harder and just as she climaxed he exploded up her pussy once more, a sensation she was rapidly getting used to -- a sensation she loved.
After lazing another half hour, she sensed his feeling that he ought to end the evening by taking her home.
"Don't make me go, Kyle. As far as my parents are concerned, I'm on a sleepover with a friend. And I want to spend the night with you."
As she expected, he was delighted at the news.
As they continued to lie in each other's arms, Kyle's thoughts were complex but his feelings were simple. Little Sarah did kind of belong to him already, whether he wanted her to or not. He loved her and wanted to spend his life with her. He had forgotten momentarily that Sarah could read his thoughts. When he realized it, his previous thought was almost as good as a proposal of marriage. But she didn't react to his silent thought, so he said it out loud.
"Sarah, will you spend your life with me? Marry me when it's time?"
"Yes, Kyle," she said, her eyes misting. "Yes, I will."
And with some smiles and tender kisses, they settled down to sleep.
Kyle woke in the night with a hard-on, spooned against the naked Sarah. She amazed him by adjusting her position slightly and guiding his cock to her pussy opening.
"Come quick, sweetie. I want to feel you get happy, then I want to get back to sleep -- and so do you."
He did, and they did.
There were obstacles to overcome. Her parents were not easily convinced, but in the wake of Sarah's steadfast determination they gave way and consented to her frequent sleepovers at the house of an imaginary girlfriend. Her excellent grades and a general maturity beyond her years convinced them that she was thriving under the arrangement.
Thoughts were unwillingly given by Kyle and unwillingly received by Sarah. But over time, they made the girl's mind mature sooner, and mature as a harmonious complement to Kyle's own nature. When her body's passion awoke, all was in place for a relationship with a depth that others could only dream of.
I'm always eager for comments, whether good, bad or mixed. Lots more stories at Sterling
Well written, good 'mechanics' (I don't know that I noticed any gomers, but I'll go through it again)--just all around excellent stuff.
Authors love hearing from their fans.