Helen Burton Attorney at Law, Chapter 3

by Single Mom

Mary Priminiski was explaining that a 7-year-old girl's mother was petitioning the state court to return custody of her daughter to her. Mary asked that I represent the school in that case.

The Mississippi School for Southern Young Ladies didn't have that many seven year olds, so I asked Mary for the girl's name.

"Donna Cohn. I don't think you've ever met her, but trust me, you'll like her," Mary said.

"A seven year old?" I asked with raised brows. "What does, `You'll like her' mean?"

"She's been spending a lot of time with your friend Janet Stevenson," Mary said with an evil smile.

"Oh, I see, which means what?"

"She's a little nymphomaniac. Her mother was convicted of, `lending her out' to her male and female friends in return for drugs."

"My God Mary! Seven years old and she's been fucking guys?"

"Actually, anyone who could provide Mommy with a fix. Male or female, it didn't much matter. Of course, Mommy had to be there with them all the time to protect her daughter."

"And what happened to Mommy?" I asked.

"She plead out. Got two years, served one."

"And now she wants her kid back? A year and she's gonna convince the court that she's clean? Who's the Judge?"

"Julianna Flynn. No way Julianna's going to find for the mother, but I still need someone to escort the girl to court and represent the school."

"Is a seven-year-old girl worth going to court over?"

"She's insatiable," Mary answered in a near whisper. "I've never met another kid like her. She wears me out."

"Okay, so when do I get to talk with the girl?"

"I'll send her to the guest cabin after dinner. Say about six pm.

I arrived at the guest cabin at 6:00 pm sharp and found 12-year-old Janet Stevenson sitting on the sofa alongside of another girl who I assumed was the seven year old in question. They were both naked and Janet was smoking the obligatory after-sex cigarette. When Janet saw me enter the cabin, she jumped off the sofa, ran over to me and threw her arms around me. "Miss Prim didn't tell me who was comin'," Janet said. "She just said that me and Donna was supposed to meet somebody here."

I wondered how many people Mary Prim's girls had met here previously? How many favors she used the girls to pay off? Was I fooling around with something that could jump up and bite me in the ass? I made a mental note to find out. I also wondered how many pin-hole cameras there might be hidden in the walls.

I'm not a strong person, and it wasn't easy to resist two beautiful, naked young girls in a bedroom, but I did have to talk with Donna, and felt it would be easier if I weren't distracted. "Honey, why don't you and Donna get dressed before I talk to Donna, okay?" I said to Janet.

"Ain't we gonna fuck?" she asked.

I promised Janet that we may fuck later if there was time, but I really had to talk to Donna, and asked that the two girls at least put on panties and a top, even though Donna had nothing on top to cover up. I hadn't noticed before that even a flat-chested seven year old could be that sexy. It may have had something to do with the fact that I could see her clitoral hood peeking out from between her outer labia. I felt a twinge of disappointment when she pulled up her cotton panties.

I explained to Donna that I was going to Jackson because her mother wanted her back, and asked how she felt about that.

"I like it here with miss Prim and Janet, and Rose, and the other kids."

"Well what about your mother and her friends?" I asked. "Don't you want to go back home to them?

"I love my mom," she said, "but some of her boy friends hurt me."

"How do they hurt you, sweetie?"

"You know, when they put their thing in my pee pee. It's okay when they lick me, or make me suck on them, but not when they—you know, fuck me."

I assured her that if she told that to the Judge, she wouldn't make her go back to her mother.

And that's when Janet chimed in. "Hey you guys, are we gonna fuck or not?"

I had never been involved in a threesome before, and I wasn't sure of who put what where, but I thought that I might be able to figure it out. As it turned out, Donna had many threesomes with mother and friends, and she knew precisely who put what where.

I got up off the sofa and stubbed out my cigarette. "Who's going to help me get undressed?" I asked.

The two girls were all over me like locust stripping a field of wheat. Janet took my blouse and bra off. Donna got down on her knees and slipped her fingers under the waist band of my slacks and panties and tugged them down to the floor. Janet shoved Donna aside and began to slowly stroke and finger my shaved pussy, paying particular attention to my clitoris.

I had my legs spread so wide that I had to lean back against the wall to keep from falling down as Donna climbed up on the bed to watch with an odd mixture of passion and envy as Janet masturbated me.

My gaze was riveted to Donna's face as she watched what Janet was doing to me. Janet's free hand flew to her own pussy and began to masturbate herself as she stared up at me to check my reaction.

I pushed Janet's hand aside and began to masturbate myself while I watched these two beautiful young girls masturbating. My gaze jumping from one to the other.

Janet's legs began to give out so she climbed up on the bed with Zoe. Both girls went up on their knees and both watched me as I watched them masturbating. It was as if we were at a tennis match, three sets of eyes going from one to another, not wanting to miss a stroke or thrust.

I was soon on the very edge of an orgasm, but I knew that if I came, I would end up in a writhing heap on the floor, so I moved to the edge of the bed and got on my my knees. I had the two girls get on hands and knees facing away from me. They both looked back over their shoulders to see what I was up to. The instant they felt my hands touch their cunts, they both began to rock back and forth slowly. I soon had two fingers in each wet pussy as they began to rock in rhythm with my thrusting fingers. Janet began chanting, "FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" Donna soon joined in the chant.

Both girls turned and stared at each other then kissed, mouths open, tongues probing expertly as they both fucked my fingers faster and more vigorously, clamping down on them with their tight vaginal muscles. It was soon obvious that the three R's was not all that the girls were learning at this school.

I leaned forward and licked both assholes in turn. Once lubricated, I moved my hands up and without warning, aggressively thrust a finger into each of them. I watched with great excitement as the tips of my fingers moved in past their expanding sphincter.

There was a low, "Uffffff" sound coming from both of them as they both dropped down on their forearms, heads resting on the bed, and turned to face each other. Janet, having been here before began to rock back and forth slowly, and Donna, obviously not a stranger to anal sex, soon followed her example.

A small shiver ran through me as I realized that I was staring close up at the asses of two beautiful young girls. Twins from my angle. My fingers slipping in and out of two tight, pink assholes as they rocked back and forth, taking in more of my finger with each backward thrust. The speed and force of their movement increased as their sphincters relaxed, and I was greeted by the beautiful sounds of young girls in orgasm. Janet first, followed closely by Donna.

I was reminded of the power of the visual image as the sight of two young girls in the throes of an orgasm, caused me to have a body trembling orgasm of my own, without benefit of cock or tongue or fingers or toy.

Mary arrived at the cabin early in the morning carrying a small overnight bag for Donna, containing only the items that Mary thought proper for a young girl to be seen in by the court or the Children's Agency.

"Just in case Julianna Flynn rules in the mother's favor," Mary said. "No thong panties or teddies or any of the other things these kids like to wear."

What she meant of course was any of the things she likes them to wear, and in fact purchased for them, which brought to mind the question that had been eating at me all night, "Who besides me are these kids sent to this cabin to meet?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Her tone and crimson face told me that she knew exactly what the fuck I was talking about.

"Are you using these kids to curry favor for the local politicians?"

"Did Janet tell you that?"

"She said that they were sent here to meet somebody, but she didn't know who. Who are the kids normally sent here to meet?"

"You don't want to know, Helen," she replied.

She was right. I didn't want to know, but if I was involved in something illegal, even superficially, I had to know. "I do want to know, and if I don't find out, you can unpack the kids bag and find yourself a new attorney."

Seconds ticked into minutes while she pondered her reply. Finally she said, "Okay, you're right, but not just politicians, some very influential people that can do the school a lot of good financially, which enables me to pay you your exorbitant fees."

"Influential people in Grant Mississippi?" I asked incredulously. "Like who?"

"Like pastor Richards and his wife, like the mayor, like local people who have outside connections, like—let's talk about this when you get back, okay? I promise to fill you in on all the details."

The weather was good, and we were making good time as long as we didn't have to get off of the interstate to look for a place to stay. We passed a sign that read "Next exit SR 34 Black Snake 2 miles" followed shortly with another that advertised the "Mississippi Snake Festival in Black Snake. Now Open." I had heard of snake worshippers in Mississippi, and decided to check it out on the return trip.

We arrived in Jackson in the early evening and went straight to my favorite 5 star hotel, hoping to run into my favorite bar tender. Donna and I checked in and went straight to the restaurant for dinner, spying Barbara at a packed bar. She was wearing her mandatory rayon jump suit except that this one was white rather than red, and even more sexy.

We ordered dinner, and I kept glancing at the bar, but it was so crowded that Barbara never noticed me sitting there. Besides, I had Donna with me, so what could happen? Donna and I talked about what would happen tomorrow, and went over again what she was going to say.

"If the Judge ask you why you want to stay at the school, what are you going to tell her?" I asked.

"Do I gotta see my mom there?"

"No, sweetie, you'll be taken to the judges chambers when she's ready to talk to you, and then you'll be returned to the clerk's office to wait for me to pick you up."

"Well—umm. I'm gonna tell her `cause I like it there, `cause I got a lot of friends there, and I got good teachers there too—and that's all."

We finished our dinner, and still no hint that Barbara had noticed me, or she noticed that I was with a kid, so I paid the check and went straight to our room.

It had been a long day, and a long drive, so we kept our bath time play to a minimum. I washed her, and she washed me, with careful attention being paid to our pussies, both inside and out. We didn't bother with panties or night shirt, but simply lay naked on top of the bed.

Donna rolled over on her front while I began rubbing her back, tracing my fingertips down the center then teasingly stopping just short of the most perfect ass I've ever seen. As I traced back up to her shoulders, I wondered why God made seven-year-old girls so beautiful and sexy. Was she a curse or a gift?

Donna purred softly, her legs opening slowly on each down stroke, hoping that this time I wouldn't stop, that this time I would continue down to that pink, puckered gem that lay hidden between the cheeks of her beautiful ass.

It was clear what she wanted, so I went to my overnight bag and got my hair brush which happened to have a thin dildo-like plastic handle. I rolled her to her back, placed 2 pillows under her hips and pushed her legs back until her feet were suspended over her head, toes pointing at the headboard.

She stared at me from between her thighs, eyes wide and glazed, the look of anxious anticipation on her face. I began licking her surprisingly large clitoris, tracing a wet trail down to her anus where I bored in with the tip of my tongue. I touched the tip of the brush handle to her puckered asshole and stared up between her wide spread thighs and into her glazed eyes. "Okay?" I asked.

She nodded her head in the affirmative. "Uh-huh, uh-huh," she whispered.

I pushed gently with little force, turning the handle slowly as I watched it slip past her tight sphincter, twitching as if to draw the brush handle in deeper and deeper.

This child was no amateur, she had been trained well by her mother and her lovers, male and female alike. She began to arch her back and move her hips, causing the brush handle to ride against the thin wall separating her rectum from her vagina, searching for her G-spot, that magic button that would cause her to explode in a gut-wrenching orgasm. She began thrashing her head from side to side, her flaxen hair flying about her head and face. Low moans evolved into loud screams as her body twisted and trembled in a body-contorting orgasm.

Her loud cries were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" I called out in a panicky voice.

"Barbara," came the whispered reply.

Donna wisely scampered under the bed covers while I hurriedly slipped into my night shirt. I opened the door and quickly pulled Barbara into the room.

Barbara glanced over at Donna, who was holding the bed covers up to her neck, damp strands of hair sticking to her flushed face. She then glanced down at the pile of cloths on the floor, a pair of child's white cotton panties lying next to my black bikini panties. "Did I interrupt something?" she said with an evil grin.

At that moment, I wanted to hate her, but I couldn't. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her stiff, pebble-size nipples were trying hard to poke through her rayon jump suit. How can you hate someone as beautiful and sexy as that? "No, we just finished," I said, confirming what she already knew.

Having disclosed my dirty little secret, I half expected a lecture on the evils of pedophilia, but instead she said, "How nice for you."

Was that a comment or sarcasm? The look on her face told me that it was envy, which she confirmed by saying, "I don't suppose that you'd care to share in your good fortune?"

"She's not mine to share," I said. "She has a mind of her own, and you'll have to ask her."

Donna didn't wait for Barbara to ask. She climbed out from under the covers and went to one of the leather easy chairs. She sat sideways, her head resting on the right arm rest, her legs draped over the left, thighs wide open, showing her beautiful puffy little-girl pussy and her over-sized clit.

Barbara turned her back to me and asked that I help with the rear zipper. I tugged it down to the base of her spine, then slipped it off of her shoulders and arms. I reached around her and cupped both of her breast in my hands while she shimmied out of the jump suit. "Are you into little girls?" I asked, feeling a sudden kinship.

"Not yet," she laughed as we both turned to look at Donna.

Donna stared back at us, her eyes wide and the tip of her tongue protruding from between her lips. She appeared to be in a daze as she began to rub her clit with the middle finger of her left hand.

I quickly shed my night shirt and began to rub my own already wet pussy. Barbara stood next to me and did the same. There is something extremely erotic about watching a seven-year-old little girl masturbate, the look on her face, and the expertise with which she used her fingers. She slid her middle finger into her wet pussy and held the heel of her hand against her clit so that she made hard contact as she thrust her hips while fucking her middle finger.

In a fit of intense passion, Barbara grabbed the child's hips and raised them to the top of the chair arm. She then went down on her knees, burying her face in the child's wet pudendum and began to lick and suck, driving her tongue deep into Donna's vagina and rectum. I actually worried that the child would pass out when her eyes rolled back in her head and she began to mumble incoherently while Barbara sucked on her clitoris. Mary was right, the kid was almost insatiable, a regular little nymphomaniac.

Once satiated, Donna slumped in the chair, her hips sliding down off the chair arm, leaving a wet trail on the brown leather. Barbara lifted the child from the chair and kissed her lovingly, then carried her to the bed where Donna soon fell asleep.

I had been standing by as an observer during the whole event, masturbating as I watched, discovering the joy of watching and listening to a young child being brought to a thundering orgasm.

As Barbara's ardor cooled, after passion spent, she turned to me and said, "I can't believe I did that. I'm not a pedophile."

I explained to her that there was a difference between a pedophile and a lover of young girls. That young girls were sexual beings as were adult women, and the idea that a young girl couldn't satisfy her sexual urges until she turned 18 was ludicrous. That was man's law, and if that was what God wanted, why would She give children the ability to procreate at age 11 or 12?

Barbara smiled and led me to the other bed. "So do you want to be the little girl or the mommy?" she cracked.

* * *

"Your honor," I said to the judge. "The child is living in a safe, wholesome and loving environment with loving and qualified faculty and staff who are concerned only with the child's safety and comfort. The school feels that it would be unhealthy and unwise to return her to a sexually abusive mother who has been on drugs for most of her life.

The state-appointed attorney for the mother argued for the mother's rights, and said nothing about what was best for the child.

Julianna Flynn never even asked to interview the child, but banged her gavel down and found for the Mississippi School For Southen Young Women.

Comments and suggestions welcome.

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