They say fame is a powerful aphrodisiac, and I’m inclined to agree. The best bit is that its powers have no respect for age.
At the time of this story, I was at the crest of a wave. I was a
successful author – I’m still living off the profits – and a very
famous man, especially among the children my books are aimed at. Only
once in a while does an author have the level of fame that a pop star
enjoys, but for half a decade I had all that. I’d written a story that
had captured the hearts and minds of children everywhere, and
especially young girls. I’d always had a thing for young girls, about
ten or eleven, just beginning to wake up to the potential of their
sexuality, and I deliberately aimed a new series of books at that age
group, hoping to attract a bit of fan mail from my favourite type of
girl.
What I didn’t expect was for the book to go global, and for me to
become a star almost overnight. I ended up going on world tours to
promote first the opening book of the series, then the second book,
then the film of the first book, on and on for weeks, then months, then
years. I was caught up in a media whirlwind, and being a young,
not-too-ugly man, I attracted more than just media attention. It turned
out that I’d pitched the book just right, and thousands of young girls
out there now saw me as their heartthrob. I would have screaming girls
at my movie premiers, and after a while, a gaggle of young girls who
would camp outside my hotel. Goodness only knows what their mothers
were thinking, but the girls almost always came alone.
I started to entertain the possibility of getting to know some of these
girls a little better, and my suspicions that they weren’t all innocent
were proven in the most unlikely way. One evening I went on a chat show
and made some kind of off the cuff remark to the host that despite my
star status, I still wasn’t getting sent underwear in the post like
some celebrities. It was all an innocent joke, except a couple of days
later I received my first pair of pants.
They were worn, I was expecting that, but what I wasn’t expecting was
who they were from – a young girl, saying she was ten, had posted them
to me. I glanced down at the bunched up pants in my hand, and slowly
unfolded them. They were covered in cartoon figures for one of the
shows popular among kids of that age, and were definitely kid size. I
hurriedly pressed the crotch to my nose, and was rewarded with a musty
aroma I hadn’t smelled since I was young myself and had smelled a pair
of my sister’s pants for a dare. Instantly I was hard, and a few
minutes later I was lying on my bed feeling very satisfied, the pants
laying over my nose while my dick twitched in my hand.
It was the beginning of a phase of my life I still have trouble
believing happened. The next day there were several pairs of pants in
my fan mail, all from young girls, all worn. The flow increased until I
was getting ten, twenty pairs a day, and lasted for months. And it
wasn’t just pants, either. The stories were the next thing to come,
lurid accounts but childish in style, detailing everything these
budding minxes wanted to do to me. And finally, about a fortnight
later, the first pictures were coming through.
Some of them were innocent enough, just pictures of faces, or fully
clothed shots. Others, though, were anything but. My favourite, the
image that is still burned into my mind, is a young girl, absolutely
naked, sat astride a hardback copy of my book, the spine in between her
legs and an obvious streak of moisture on the dust jacket where she had
rubbed herself back and forth over my name. I couldn’t contain myself
with that one, and had to change my trousers.
It stepped up a gear when I visited Norway, though. The girls there
seemed to have read my books even though they were not translated into
their native tongue, and they loved them just as much as anyone else. I
got a lot of fan mail from blonde Norwegian girls, and for some reason
their letters were naughtier than most. One little girl sent me several
photographs of herself and a pair of little white cotton pants she had
sealed in an airtight bag. When I opened the bag, the pungent aroma of
little girl excitement escaped, and when I lifted the pants out, the
crotch was still damp where she had fingered herself through the
material. Best of all, her letter ended telling me she knew where my
hotel was, and she would be waiting for me.
My heart leapt into my mouth. This was the first letter that promised
real life action, if I had the guts to take her up on it. I studied the
photos every single day, looking for something I hadn’t seen before.
They were mostly innocent, although in one shot she was wearing jeans
with the zipper pulled all the way down, and it was clear she wasn’t
wearing pants beneath. I scanned and scanned that photo, hoping that I
would spot the top of her sex, but the photo was just too well posed,
and all I could be sure of was the slight beginnings of her pubic
mound. Ella filled my thoughts for months, until it was time to be in
Oslo.
Before I’d even made it to the hotel, I’d seen her. I went straight
from the airport to a signing in a huge bookstore in town, and there
she was, at the front of the crowd, smiling coyly at me. I had to fight
very hard to hide my excitement, especially when she came up to the
table with a copy of my book and handed it over, shyly averting her
eyes. When I handed the book back with a very personal message inside,
our eyes met for the first time, and it was electric.
She was at the hotel - after all I’d given her instructions how to get
there - and waited in the crowd like I told her to. As I passed them
all, I signed a few autographs, and when I got to Ella, I slipped a
note I’d prepared into her hand, then carried on without a backward
glance. If she really wanted to go as far as her letter promised, she
would meet me outside the back door of the hotel in fifteen minutes.
I always had a limo when I was abroad, and always had my own driver,
who flew with me and doubled as a bodyguard. Frank was a good man,
discreet to the highest level, and I was about to find out how
discreet. I sat in the car nervously waiting, until I saw her lithe
little form emerge from the side of the building. Immediately Frank was
out of the front of the car, and approaching the girl, opening one of
the rear doors and beckoning her in. When he returned to the front of
the car, the privacy screen was up in seconds.
Ella was every bit as gorgeous as her photos suggested. Her blond hair
was braided, her face tanned a beautiful golden brown, and her eyes
piercing blue. She wore a little white jacket, which she took off as
soon as she was in the car, and beneath that a little tank top which
was cut short to show off her taught, flat belly. The jeans she wore
were practically indecent, and I recognised them from the photo I had
lusted over so much. Even with the zip done all the way up they gaped
on her hips, enough to let me know she was wearing white cotton pants
today.
She sat down next to me, for the first time looking rather nervous, but
still smiling. As soon as her door was closed, Frank set off. It was
early evening, but already dark, and the smoked glass windows of the
limousine ensured we would not be seen.
Ella’s English was, it turned out, quite excellent, but we didn’t do
much talking before the nervousness we were both feeling took over.
There was a great sense of anticipation in the car, and before long I
found myself leaning in to kiss her. She didn’t resist, instead
hungrily meeting my mouth, making cute little whimpering sounds as we
kissed. I kept it relatively clean for a few minutes, but sooner or
later my base desires were going to take over, and I placed my hand on
her exposed tummy.
Ella jumped slightly, but quickly settled down again, and carried on
kissing me as my hand lazily made circles on her hot flesh. I broke the
kiss to lean down and kiss her tummy, my hand drifting down to fall on
her thigh. When I looked up at her face, Ella’s eyes were closed, and
her mouth was open, panting slightly. I continued to kiss her tummy all
over, nuzzling the bottom of her top up a little with my nose every so
often, whilst at the same time letting my hand slowly drift up her leg
toward her groin. Her legs held together for all of three seconds
before flopping open, granting me access.
My thumb was the first bit to make contact, hitting the thick seam of
her jeans right over where her clitoris should have been. The touch was
greeted with a gasp from Ella, and when I looked up she was biting her
bottom lip with her eyes clenched tightly shut. I pressed again,
working my thumb around and around, driving the seam into her soft
flesh, and she moaned loudly every time I completed a circle.
I needed better access though, so I slipped off the seat and onto the
floor between her legs – it was a good thing there was plenty of room
in that limo. From here, I continued to kiss her tummy, going lower and
lower until my lips were edging under the waistband of her jeans. With
my hands I reached up and ever so carefully unsnapped the button of her
jeans. The zip came apart easily, almost of its own accord, and I was
greeted with the sight of the front of her pants.
They had some sort of generic cartoon character on the front, but it
wasn’t the sight that really got me, it was the aroma I released that
took control of my senses. What I had smelled on her pants before was
but a faint facsimile of what emerged from Ella’s crotch at that
moment. She was absolutely soaking wet, and very, very hot. I left her
jeans for a moment and slid further down to take off her trainers. They
slipped off easily, and I threw them to the other end of the car. Then
I reached up and grabbed the waistband of her jeans. They slid off
easily, no need for careful peeling here, and were soon around her
ankles and then off.
I knelt up between Ella’s legs and drew her towards me, pulling her
hips to the edge of the seat and leaning forward to kiss her. As I did
so, my hard dick, barely confined by the trousers I was wearing, pushed
against the damp crotch of her pants, and she whimpered, a frown
passing across her face. Then I was kissing her, her sweet lips on mine
once more. We kissed like this for a few minutes, the slightest flex
from Ella’s hips moving herself up and down the hard lump between her
legs. When I looked down, I could see the wetness having spread from
her pants to my trousers, staining them.
I kissed down her neck ever so slowly, and then headed back to her
tummy, getting a powerful waft of her fragrance as I did so. This time,
though, my kissing headed upwards, and as it did so, I peeled her tight
little top off, up past her bony ribs and eventually up and over her
head when she raised her arms to help. Her nipples were little girl
nipples, and all the more gorgeous for it. Tiny little spikes, they
were as hard as anything, and sensitive to the warm wetness of my
mouth. Ella gasped and moaned, gasped again and moaned again as I
licked and sucked on her nipples. The driving of her crotch into me
became more and more insistent, the rhythm clearer, and I could feel my
orgasm start to build.
Not wanting to get there quite yet, I leant back and surveyed my lover.
She was slumped right down in the chair, legs obscenely spread, wet
crotch of her pants nearly translucent and pulled tightly across her
mound. I could see the outer lips divided, and a dark pinkness within,
all without having to even remove her underwear. She still had her
socks on, too, and for the first time I noticed that they matched the
pants. Cute.
When she realised I was no longer doing anything to her, Ella sat up
with a rather dazed look on her face. It turned to a mischievous smile
fairly quickly, and she pounced on me, pushing me to the floor. I lay
on my back as she sat astride my waist and ground her crotch into the
rather obvious bulge of my dick, her panting becoming more and more
pronounced. Suddenly, when it seemed certain that we would both climax,
she stopped and grinned at me again.
She shifted down my legs a little, and reached out a tiny little hand
to grab my dick. I’m not exactly well-endowed, but with the fabric of
my trousers to get hold of as well, her hand only fit about two thirds
of the way around. She wanted more though, wanted to feel it for real,
so she started undoing my pants. It was a little painful to watch her
struggling with the zip, but eventually my trousers were open, and my
dick was sticking up, tenting the front of my jockeys. Without any
further hanging around, Ella grabbed both my trousers and pants and
yanked them down, freeing my dick. She pulled them all the way down to
my ankles and left them bunched around my shoes, before returning to my
dick.
She looked like she’d seen one before, though not in real life, and
tentatively picked it up off my lower stomach. She handled me for a
minute, making me unbelievably hard, but didn’t seem to want to use her
mouth. I certainly wasn’t going to force her, and instead I was treated
to something a lot better. Rocking onto her back, Ella whipped off her
pants and threw them in my face, giggling, before sitting down right on
top of my dick. The back of it nestled right along her sex, and as she
started a lazy rocking motion, back and forth, I could see it sawing
through her lips.
The warm wetness was incredible, and I nearly came straight away, only
just stopping myself. Ella slid up and down me for several minutes, the
strokes getting longer and longer until the head of my dick lodged in
the valley between her legs. I expected Ella to stop and reposition
herself, but she’d clearly planned this, and slowly raised up on her
knees, keeping the head of my dick trapped. Reaching between her legs,
she grabbed the shaft of my dick and pushed it backwards a little. I
could feel the beginnings of a little hole, and as Ella slowly dropped
her weight down onto me, I could feel an incredibly tight ring of
muscle stretching around the head of my dick. Slowly, ever so slowly,
Ella inched her way down until I was about half way inside her and I
could feel myself coming up against the entrance to her womb. I
realised then that there had been no hymen to break, and I was as far
as I could go into the girl.
Ella held herself still for a minute, and I could feel the ring of
muscle at the entrance to her vagina clenching and unclenching, until
finally it stopped moving and she was completely relaxed. Then she
started the tiniest up and down movements, which grew as she loosened
yet further and became used to the size of my dick. Soon she was
bouncing up and down on me, stopped on her downwards strokes by the
head of my dick banging into her cervix, and halted on the way up when
the flared head of my dick lodged in the ring of muscle. I watched her
sex for a couple of minutes, fascinated by the way it stretched
obscenely around my dick, and the way her little clitoris poked out the
front. On the inward strokes, I swear I could see her abdomen bulge
slightly, and on the way out it really looked like I was going to turn
her inside out as her hole clung on to me.
Clearly I wasn’t going to last long like this. In fact, the only thing
that stopped me coming inside the very first minute was the way in
which Ella’s body squeezed my dick, stopping me having full sensation.
I couldn’t hold off forever, though, and eventually my orgasm hit. I
sank as deep into Ella as I could go and released the biggest load of
my life into her immature vagina. She fell forwards on top of me as I
came, exhausted and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. I hugged her
little frame as she breathed heavily, head on my shoulder. I felt
myself soften and slip gently out of her, followed by a trickle of my
own semen mixed with her juices.
Eventually Ella recovered enough to look up at me, and smiled the same
coy smile she’d given me the first time we met. She looked so lovely
lying there that I had to grab her bottom and lift her up my body for a
kiss, which she relished.
That wasn’t the last time I saw Ella while I was in Norway, and she
wasn’t the only girl I bedded at the height of my fame, but it still
sticks in my mind as the most memorable sex I’ve ever had.