Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. The Flower by Chris Hailey, Copyright 2015 Story codes: g, mast Summary: A little vignette, almost more of a poem, about a young girl experiencing her body. This story was originally published under the pseudonym Chris Jorgenson at Loliwood Studios. ============== Disclaimer If it is not legal for you to access this story, you must leave immediately. This story is fictional and is considered by the author to be a work of art. While the story may contain scenes that some readers might consider prurient, these scenes are intended to advance the author's artistic goals. All characters and events are fictional and all reader comments are understood to be fictional and fantasy. This story contains written fictional fantasy material that may be objectionable to some readers and may be illegal in some jurisdictions. This may include, but is not limited to: 1) Written fantasy depictions of minors engaged in sexual activity, including sexual activity with adults; 2) Written fantasy depictions of incest; 3) Occasionally, written fantasy depictions of rape and abusive behavior. If you find any of these subjects objectionable, or if they have been determined to be or may be determined to be obscene or otherwise illegal in your jurisdiction, you must leave immediately. This story is intended for adult readers only. If you are not of legal age to read erotica in your jurisdiction, you must leave immediately. Thank you, ~CH ================= She lays in bed, letting the early morning sun warm her as it dapples through her window. She is a young girl--only a child. But as she slowly runs her fingers over the soft fabric of her nightgown, she knows she is beginning to change. She sits up and looks at herself in the mirror of her dressing table. She smiles at the vision, then makes a silly face, sticking her tongue out. Then she slips her nightgown off and looks at herself again. Yes, she is beginning to change, isn't she? She sits up on her knees and slips her panties down and looks in the mirror again. Naked now, she admires her body. Is she pretty? Is she sexy? She plays for a moment with her hair, soft and blond, then runs her fingers over herself, enjoying the electric feeling of the touch. She looks down at herself. Yes, there is no doubt, she is becoming a woman. She's still a young girl, just a child, but soon-- There is, she knows, one thing she needs before she will truly be a woman. She needs a man. Only when she has a man to touch her, only when he holds her and kisses her and caresses her breasts. Only when he lays her down on his bed. Only then will she be a woman. She opens for him, like a delicate new blossom spreading her petals for the morning sun. He enters her. She accepts him inside her. He makes love to her, and she to him, using her body to give him pleasure. He finishes inside her. Only then--only when he has poured himself out, only when she has accepted the issue of his manhood into her, only then will she be a woman. Her body begins to shutter as she thinks about her man. He stays inside her after he has finished, kissing her; he never wants to leave her. He turns her over, she gets up on her hands and knees, he enters her again. She can see herself in the mirror now, her bottom up in the air. She feels very dirty, and it is wonderful, liberating. She spreads her legs open further and she can see the pale skin around the opening of her vagina. She reaches between her legs and spreads herself open again, and she can see the pink flesh inside her now. She is very, very wet. Her lover has sex with her again, from behind her. He is aggressive, overpowering. He fucks her. She collapses onto the bed, her face and chest against her pillow, her bottom still in the air. Her body begins to shake, her fingers are soaked now. She moans loudly, the sound muffled by her pillow. He ejaculates into her a second time. She collapses completely onto the bed and just lays there for a moment, breathing hard. She rises. She stretches, and admires herself in the mirror again. She smiles. She really is sexy, isn't she? She dresses, then goes downstairs for breakfast. "My, we're in a good mood this morning, aren't we?" her mother says. [If you like this story--or if you don't like it!--please drop me an email to let me know what you think at chrishailey01@protonmail.com Thanks!]