12 rue de Rivoli  : by (c) H Joyce Mf

I had hung up my uniform, showered and changed into a silk dressing-gown and 
slippers in the dressing room the establishment always provided. I stubbed out 
my cigar, drained the last of my brandy-glass, and pushed open the heavy, red-
morocco-padded door. 

The room was dimly lit from four ornate lamp-standards. Each was a life-size 
bronze of a naked couple embracing.  My first impression was of red velvet, 
gold ormolu, and heavy tapestries. There were large mirrors in gilt frames on 
every wall, and the scarlet carpet was thick and luxurious. The room was 
warmer even than the dressing room had been and the air was subtly perfumed.

At the far end of the room was the bed, a four-poster, with massive black 
wooden columns, writhing figures carved deeply in various sexual embraces, 
the light reflecting dully off the shining naked buttocks, bosoms and cocks. I 
expected the old wood had been polished by the many ropes that had been 
secured to the posts. All the rooms had four-posters, so useful for clients 
interested in bondage and similar pursuits. However, that is not one of my vices. 
No, the focus of my vice was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at me with 
wide-staring blue eyes. 

Madame has never let me down, and this was everything she promised me when 
I handed over the wad of bank notes, my fee for the evening's pleasures. The 
girl had been offered to me naked, but I prefer the preliminaries of disrobing. I 
know some men, of a more violent disposition than myself, like their virgins 
naked, so they may simply leap on them and do their business amid struggles, 
screams and blood. I've had enough of that in my army career. Colonial 
campaigns offer so many opportunities for rape! Nowadays I always prefer a 
more indirect approach and at least the appearance of compliance from the girl. 
So she was sitting there in her school uniform, as I had requested: a white 
blouse, rather tight across her bosom so the buttons were slightly splayed 
showing she had no brassiere. She had a pastel blue ribbon tie, a grey flannel 
skirt, short enough to show her knees and an inch or so of slender thigh, white 
cotton socks and the cutest little white court shoes. She sat there, tiny, pale and 
lost against the expanse of red satin covering the bed. As she perched on the 
very edge of the bed  her legs were too short to reach the ground, and somehow 
this added to her vulnerability.

Her hair was done with two Alice ribbons, matching her eyes and the ribbon 
round her slender white neck. Blonde hair flowed down to her shoulders. Her 
blue eyes were wide-open in fear of me, and I could see she had been weeping, 
though there was just the occasional sob now, her tiny breasts moving under her 
blouse with each sigh.

I sat down on the bed beside her, and she slipped towards me on the satin 
bedspread as my weight sank into the mattress. She flinched as I put my arm 
round her shoulder. I squeezed it. Good, she was tiny, but not skinny: I could 
feel firm flesh under my palm. 'It's Suzette, isn't it?' 

The only reply was a sob. 'I'm General Dufour, my little one.' Another sob. 
'Now, you mustn't cry, and spoil your pretty face, my dear. Now, if you could 
have what you most wanted in the world, what is that?'

'I want my Mummy.'

'But your Mummy brought you here and left you, didn't she?' I caressed her 
flowing hair, letting my hand rest eventually on the softness of her neck, with its 
wispy fine hairs. How I hoped her cunt hair would be as fine and as blonde! 
'And what did your Mummy say to you?'

'She said I'd be here for a few weeks, and I'd meet some gentlemen, real toffs, 
and I was to be nice to them, and do everything they want...'

'So you see, you'll have to choose something else.'

'I want to go home...'

'Now, now. No more tears. Suppose it's your birthday. Now what, most in the 
world, would you like to see by your bed, what present, when you wake up?'

'There's a dolly. In the window at Samaritaine. A lovely dolly, nearly as big as 
me.'

'But you're not really very big, are you.' My arm was round her, holding her 
naked upper arm very gently. My fist would nearly close around it. I pulled her 
against me, so her weight, such as it was, lay against the side of my chest, the 
side of one breast pressed against me.  I nuzzled her hair, which was scented 
with lavender. 'What's her name, the dolly?'

'Angelique, monsieur.'

'Well, Suzette, you shall have Angelique to play with. I promise. Now why were 
you crying?' She had stopped sobbing now, and her face was clearing. I cuddled 
her closer.

'I was so afraid. There's all those, whips and things.' Of course, between two 
mirrors an impressive array of manacles, whips, straps, ropes and devices of 
rubber and leather whose use I could only guess at, hung on the wall for the 
convenience of the brothel's clientele. Every suite of rooms had them. The 
heavy doors and thick curtains were at least partly for sound proofing.

They're nothing to do with us, my little sweetie. Don't bother your pretty little 
head. I'm just a silly old man who likes to play with pretty little girls, like you, 
Suzette. You like to play with dollies, and I like to play with pretty little girls.' 
My hand strayed to her breast, and I could feel the mound beneath her blouse. I 
smoothed and caressed it. 'Have you ever played with a boy before, Suzette?'

'Oh no. Mummy never let me out with a boy.'

I thought to myself, the venial bitch knew her daughter's virginity would be 
worth a great deal of money, a lovely little innocent such as her! Still, the boys' 
loss my gain! 'How old are you, Suzette?'

'Thirteen, monsieur. Just.'

'Thirteen! And never played with a boy. That won't do, Suzette. It's all very 
well to play with dollies, but you'll be grown up soon, and you will have to 
learn grown-up games. You have lost  time to make up. Is that nice?' I was 
stroking and kneading her tiny breast. She was silent, but not flinching from my 
touch any more. I was tempted to take her hand and place it on my cock, hard 
beneath my silk robe. But no point in hurrying things. A pleasure delayed is 
often a pleasure increased. 'Now we must get you ready for bed.' 

'I haven't got any night things, monsieur. Mummy left my nighty at home. She 
said I wouldn't need it, and if the gentlemen wanted me to wear any night 
clothes, then Madame would give me them.'

'Then we'll just have to make do, Suzette. The room is very warm, and we 
won't get cold, will we? And we don't really need any night things, do we?'

I like to take my time undressing my nymphets, but shoes and socks don't really 
do much to me. They look pretty enough, ok, but  I find it best to just get them 
off quickly. My friend the Bishop, on the other hand, is a fetishist, and would 
linger hours over what took me seconds. I leaned forward, grasped an ankle, 
slipped the shoe off without unbuckling it, and then tugged the short white sock 
off. Then the other foot. I must admit, however, to lingering with my hand on 
her slender calf and slipping it up to the hem of her skirt her skirt to fondle her 
smooth knee and the soft, silky skin on its underside..

'Now let's have a nice cuddle, shall we?' I lay in the middle of the bed, and with 
my arms round her waist as she still sat with her back to me, and pulled her 
backwards onto the bed beside me. I pulled her up against me, so my cock 
rested against her butt, as I nuzzled the back of her neck with my nose and lips. 
Yes, her hair smelt of lavender. She must have used a scented shampoo. I kissed 
the fine blonde hairs on the back of her slender, white neck, and licked her, 
tracing circles on her white skin with the tip of my tongue. I slipped my tongue 
into her ear, and was amused to feel her wriggle against me. My hands were still 
on her belly, pulling her into me. I pulled one arm from under her, and turned 
her over to face me. My gown had slipped open, exposing my cock.

Now the first of the moments that had kept me awake all week in anticipation, 
trying all the tricks to avoid coming. Cold shower, glass of cold water, half an 
hour with the latest military assessments, anything to make sure my balls stayed 
full of cum, my cock full of vigour for this encounter. I had succeeded, and my 
weapon would have done any lancer in the French army proud as it twitched, 
red, hot and hard. I pulled her towards me so her face was on my naked chest, 
her breasts pressing into my cock. Then I slid her upwards till our heads were 
level. Her skirt had ridden up, and my prick slid along cloth before resting on 
the naked flesh of her legs. I kissed her. There was no response. That would be 
asking too much! I kissed her again, my hand caressing her bottom. This time I 
penetrated her mouth with my tongue. Glory be! She did not flinch away. I 
explored her mouth and teeth with my tongue, watching the scene in the huge 
mirror that replaced the bed's cloth canopy in this room, as in most of the 
establishment's suites. I rationed myself to caressing her butt through the heavy 
cotton of her panties. 

I could feel the tension leaving her body. I wondered how often she had been 
caressed by anyone at all. My guess is her mother did not! 'Is it nice to kiss like 
that, my dear?' She was silent, but there was no doubt her body was pressing 
against mine with more than just my effort. 'Then you must kiss me the same. 
That's the way grown-ups kiss, Suzette.'

Paradise! Her tiny tongue slipped tentatively between my lips and fluttered in 
my mouth like a fledgling bird.

'Have you got a granddad, my sweet?'

'No monsieur. I've only got my mother.'

'And I haven't got any granddaughter, my little darling. So for tonight I can be 
your granddad, and you can be my granddaughter. Would you like that?'

'And I can have my dolly tomorrow.'

'Of course my sweet. Now, we're supposed to be getting ready for bed.' I pulled 
her blouse from the waistband of her skirt and with eager, fumbling fingers 
popped the four buttons. Open to my sight, her breasts were as lovely as they 
had promised. On the cusp between childhood and womanhood, she had the 
suggestion of some puppy-fat in the round mounds of her tits. I stroked them 
with both hands. 'What pretty pigeons for me to stroke. And see, how they like 
it.' Indeed, her tiny rosy nipples were hardening. 'They are so pretty I must kiss 
them.' I took one of her breasts in each hand and gently, so gently, massaged 
them while I nibbled first one nipple and then the other. 'See what fun grown-
ups have, my little Suzette.' She had visibly relaxed with my caressing and soft 
talk. My dressing gown had fallen open, and she could not have failed to see my 
cock, hugely erect. But she made no comment, and almost politely ignored it!  

'Let's have that off now.' I pulled the shirt over her shoulders and she lifted 
herself to let me remove it. At the same time I took off my gown. Both garments 
I threw carelessly to the carpet.

How gross and stupid those men are who 'break virgins in' using the techniques 
of a horse- coper! What they miss of the tenderness and delight in the girl's 
body in their violent and rapacious lust! How much better to waken the latent 
sexuality in every young girl, bringing her gradually from fear to pleasure. How 
much better the long, quiet seduction, even in a brothel where the girl has been 
sold by her mother to Madame Dusaurier, than the banker Gaubert's frantic 
rapes. And what a crime to mark this tender, white flesh with the vicious streaks 
of the martinet, breaking the pure skin of virginal buttocks and breasts! I have 
no use for a nymphet with her skin marred by the marks of violence. Luckily 
there are enough pretty little girls in the Paris slums for the tastes of all the 
clientele!

We lay side-by-side, her face against my chest with its mat of grey hairs. I was 
still fondling her breasts, when her tiny tongue licked one of my nipples! 'You 
have a very big moustache, monsieur!'

Now, my moustache is one of my few sources of vanity. I pride myself there is 
no finer in the whole of the army. When I'm in my dress uniform, scrubbed and 
polished, that moustache is enough to put junior officers into a blind funk! 'All 
the better to kiss you with, my dear.' And we fell to kissing again, she using the 
little fluttering penetrations she had just learned. I could not resist looking at her 
breasts and her legs, naked to the crotch as her skirt had ridden up, so clear in 
the overhead mirror. The thin white cotton was tight against her lips, and I could 
just see the outline of them through it. Yes! This one was worth Madame's fee!

I found the clasp of her skirt conveniently beneath my right hand, and slipped 
the hook open. There were two buttons, both easily managed with one hand. I 
was delighted when, as I eased the grey flannel cloth down over her thighs, she 
lifted her buttocks very slightly. The skirt joined her blouse in the heap on the 
carpet.

I watched us in the mirror as I caressed her naked thighs, and her bottom, so 
scantily shielded by thin, poor cotton. Our eyes met in the mirror, and she 
blushed. I had caught her looking at my manhood!

'My little sweet, my darling, my lovely little princess, granddaddy's little 
granddaughter.' I found myself murmuring endearments as I nibble her breasts 
and slipped my hand between her thighs. Her panties were damp! My hand 
down the front of her knickers now sliding over her belly, and I felt the very 
lightest of fluff on her mound. Blonde or ginger, I wondered? I did hope it was 
blonde! Her breast pressed firmer against me as I rubbed her cunt lips, my finger 
still outside her lips, and then I slipped it between the outer lips. She was 
aroused, and my finger slid through her juices, stopping over her hard little nub. 
She did not flinch, and I felt her lips on my nipple again.  

'Now these,' I whispered in her ear, and she certainly raised her buttocks as I 
eased the cotton panties from under her. They joined the rest of our clothes on 
the floor.

The next of my anticipated moments. The lightest of fluff on her mound, and the 
tiny wispy hairs on her light-pink lips were the most lovely ash-blonde. I was in 
paradise once more! I stroked her there with the palm of my hand, and as she 
opened her legs oh-so-slightly grasped her cunt very gently. We were kissing 
again, her tongue in my mouth.

I kissed her throat, the valley between her breasts, her belly, and then the hairs 
of her mound. Her thighs were apart, and the skin on the inside of them was as 
smooth as silk under my hands. As I kissed her there on the inside of her thighs, 
where the skin is softest and whitest, she flinched, but not in fear.

'That tickles, monsieur. Your moustache.' She was giggling. 'Your moustache, 
it tickles. No!'

'And does this tickle, my angel?' I parted her near-hairless lips with the fingers 
of both hands. The scarlet flesh within was almost shocking compared with the 
innocence of the outer lips. I planted a kiss on her tiny clitoris, and then sucked 
at it. I was still holding her open with both hands, as I licked round and round 
the pearly nub, sometimes licking downwards to penetrate her cunt with the tip 
of my tongue. She was silent, but I could hear her breath becoming shorter, and 
could feel her arousal in the hardening of her clit, the flowing of her juices and 
the swelling of her lips. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her in the 
mirror, face flushed and eyes closed. The moment was near, and I abandoned 
her cunt with my hands, reaching for her tits. My tongue still working at her clit, 
I squeezed her nipples. She came, her hips rising to meet my tongue. I slipped 
my tongue into her to feel the last of her spasms.

'Well, Suzette, did it tickle?'

'Oh no, monsieur. It was better than...' She stopped, suddenly shy.

'Better than when you do it yourself in the middle of the night when everyone's 
asleep, eh?' I laughed. 'But there's a better way still. Though like a lot of things 
you have to learn how to enjoy it. This is the way grown-ups do it, my little 
angel. Once you've learned to like it you will want it all the time, like grown-
ups do.' There would not be a better time! The sweetie was completely relaxed, 
and although virginal, her cunt was nicely lubricated. I supported myself on one 
elbow as I lay over her. With my free hand, I wiped my cock several times the 
length of her slit. It slipped freely. I located her vagina. There was a momentary 
look of trepidation on her face as I pushed my knob in an inch or so, just so my 
knob was inside. She was tight! I leaned down and kissed her lips as I pushed 
down and in, until our pubic hairs touched. I looked at her face. There was a 
grimace...not of pleasure!..but no tears. I started to fuck, as gently as I could. 
She closed her eyes, but her face registered no pleasure. I fucked her harder as 
my excitement rose. This was the moment, the second moment of my dreams. I 
was going to be too quick! I tried to stop. I felt my orgasm building, and there 
was no way I could delay the pleasure. With a final series of thrusts I pumped 
my hot spunk into her. 

After, I pulled out. I was still hard. I wiped my cock on my robe, and then 
dabbed the outer lips of her cunt. The stain on my white silk was a pinky color. 
Banker Gaubert would envy me her virginity, I thought.

I was still aroused by the slender and innocent girl, and as I lay beside her I 
caressed her breasts, erect nipples between fingers and thumbs, and whispered 
soft endearments in her tiny pink ear.

The second time I had her, I was tempted to kneel her down and fuck her from 
behind, in the cunt, you understand. I love to grasp slender hips, the feel of 
young tits from underneath and the slap of my thighs against slim buttocks. But 
on consideration I realised that might be rather severe on her recently virginal 
vagina. Sometimes and with some girls that would not bother me, but a plan 
was already taking form in my head, and I really wanted her to learn to enjoy 
fucking. So I had her 'missionary fashion' a second time.

This time I was careful to ride up higher on her little body, ensuring my cock 
raked its full length over her clitoris with each downward lunge. I worked on her 
slowly and forcefully, removing all but the very last quarter of an inch with each 
rise, and then plunging heavily the full length. I supported myself on one elbow, 
and used my free hand to squeeze and caress first one breast and then the other. 
My consideration was rewarded as I could feel her passion awakening. Her face 
flushed, and one fist grasped my wrist: the other had a handful of my chest-hair. 
Her hips rose an inch or so to meet my every downward stroke.

It was too much for me! I could not hold out in the hope she might come, but 
suddenly lost control, and pumped my spunk into her again.

I lay on top of her until her cunt rejected my now-limp weapon. She smiled and 
kissed me. In seconds she was asleep, and I gently rolled off her to sleep beside 
her.


I woke early, as usual. She was lying on the bed, delightful in a foetal position 
that did everything for her shapely little hips and bottom. Her blonde hair was 
spread in a flash of gold on the red satin bed. Her tits were hidden in the cradle 
of her arms. She was snoring!

My silk dressing gown was near-ruined with blood and cum, so I had to dress in 
my uniform to go back to the brothel's communal rooms. I shaved quickly.

Madame Dusaurier was already about her business, her hair and make-up as 
immaculate as ever, her breasts resplendent beneath an eau-de-nil silk negligee. 
'You are as beautiful as ever, Madame.'

'And you as handsome, mon general, in your uniform. What a couple we would 
make.'

'Alas, Madame...'

'I am joking, mon general. I know your predilection for the juvenile.'

'I have been constant in that all my life, Madame. At twelve my first lovers 
were village girls and boys of my age, and I have been faithful to that ideal all 
my life.'

'While I am a fickle woman. At thirteen my lovers were men of your age, mon 
general, and women-friends of my mother. But as the years pass I find myself 
choosing younger and younger men and women. But was Suzette satisfactory?'

'More than satisfactory, Madame. Delightful.'

'Sadly, Banker Gaubert has paid for her tonight. After a long night of beating 
and sodomising, perhaps worse, she will not be delightful again for a fortnight. 
Triste, la vie.'

'It is that I wished to discuss, Madame. I wish to spare her those ordeals of the 
ropes and whips, though not necessary those of the sodomy you understand. I 
wish to buy her and take her to my chateau.' 

'Is that wise?  People will talk, You are a public figure...the scandal.'

'Pish! My servants are loyal. I'm a good and popular landlord. And all the 
peasant farmers fuck their daughters from the moment of puberty to the evening 
of their marriage. No-one in the countryside will be in the slightest surprised if I 
take a young girl to my bed.'

'Well, then, the price will be what I paid and the same again.'

'That is very generous, Madame.'

'Not at all, mon general. She will be easily replaced, and we may even be able 
to find Gaubert another virgin for tonight. There are so many of these waifs! 
And so many of them are worn out so quickly, I fear. Buggered and beaten by 
the Gauberts, and bored to death by the Bishops! My accountant, Sebastian, will 
tell you exactly how much, and take your cheque.'

'You are too kind, Madame. Is my man, Emil, here yet? I have an errand for 
him.'  

'He is still asleep in my bed after a night of great feats! As I said I choose 
younger and younger men. I could send one of my girls if you wish.'


Suzette was sleeping still when I returned. She had turned over and was 
sprawled out on the scarlet bed, her legs wide apart. I drew the curtains and the 
bright sunlight of a Paris spring streamed in.

The sunlight touched her pubic fleece, and the tiny  hairs shone like spun gold. I 
tiptoed to her and stood over her. She lay with her face completely calm, one 
arm stretched behind her head, the other hand resting on her thigh. Her armpit 
was as smooth as if it had been shaved, but looking very closely I could see the 
faintest fluff of hair just starting to grow. Her breasts stood pert, and I went to 
wake her with a kiss on her rosy red nipple. She smiled, but did not wake. I 
kissed the other nipple, her left breast. Again the smile and an almost inaudible 
murmur escaped her lips. I knelt by the bed and kissed her golden fleece, 
nuzzling my lips against her sweet little mound. She woke and stretched her 
legs. There was sleep in her voice.
'That's nice. Will you kiss my button again, monsieur?'

I lay beside her and felt again how tiny she was lying against my bulk. I kissed 
her lips and whispered in her ear, my breath blowing the wisps of golden hair. 
'Later, my angel. We must bath and get ready. Come with me.'

She yawned as,  holding my hand, we crossed to the door. I opened it. 'Dit 
donc! I have never seen a bath such as that!'

It was a double bath, the size of a double bed.  Every suite in the brothel had 
one, and many's the happy hour I've spent in them with my little angels!

'The toilet is through there. I'll run a bath.'

Her bottom moved as she walked to the door. I loved the way there was a gap 
between her slender thighs as she walked, and her slim bottom moved as if she 
were on high heels. The water gushed from the mouth of a great golden fish, a 
sort of Chinese carp. By the time she came back, the bath was full, and I had 
added some scented oil. My cock was already hard as she tripped happily 
towards me.

She stood knee-deep in the bath as I soaped her, an excuse to slide my hands 
over her breasts, belly and bottom. She wriggled and giggled as I soaped her 
cunt and slid my index finger into her. There was a lovely little squeak as that 
same finger penetrated her anus. Then it was my turn, and like me, she seemed 
keen to concentrate on sexual areas. And her finger, too, slipped up my arse.

We lay side-by-side, soaking in the warm, scented water. 

'I'll teach you another game, Suzette. Climb astride me.'

'It's too big, monsieur.'

'It's no bigger than it was last night, and it wasn't too big then. There, you see. 
It's gone in easily. No you move up and down on it like I did to you then.'

With each down stroke, her clit raked the length of my cock, and with each lift 
of her hips I could see her pink lips stretch out round my cock as if unwilling to 
release it. I was holding her hips to help raise her up, and then she would crash 
down onto me. The waves were spilling over the floor, unheeded. I could see 
her face flushing red as her excitement rose, and reached up with both hands to 
squeeze her breasts. This tipped her over into orgasm, and she collapsed on my 
chest. I could feel the spasms gripping my cock, but avoided coming myself. I 
knew after last night I would only have one more in me this morning. Not the 
man I was at eighteen!

I dried her with a thick towel, but made sure I kept her clit well-awake.

In the bedroom again, and Angelique was sitting on the bed, propped against 
one of the black wooden pillars. Suzette saw the doll and rushed to it, hugging 
it. I was amused to see her turn the doll upside down to inspect its lingerie.

'Oh! Thank you, monsieur. She's lovely.' She dropped the doll and hugged me, 
her arms round my neck, feet off the floor, and tits pressed firm against my 
chest. While we were still kissing I lifted her and laid her on the bed.

'Will you put it in me again, monsieur?'

I was pleased. She wanted fucking more than she wanted sucking. My seduction 
of the nymphet was succeeding. 'Cuddle me first.'

I whispered in her ear. 'Would you like to be my real granddaughter, Suzette? 
You could live in my lovely country house, with gardens, and a river where the 
village boys and girls come to swim. You could go to the village school. You'd 
have your own room, and we could cuddle every night.' 

'I'd like that, monsieur.'

'Then call me grandfather, Suzette. And this afternoon I'll take you there. But 
first Mademoiselle Fontaine, my housekeeper will take you shopping to get 
some pretty dresses.'

'Will we go by train, grandfather?'

'In my car. With the roof open, and a handsome chauffeur in grey cap and 
uniform.'

She clapped her hands. 'I've never been in a car before.'

'That makes three or four things you've never done before today, Suzette.' She 
giggled. 'And here's another one.' I smeared some honey from the breakfast tray 
over my cock and balls. 'Lick it off! A sucette for Suzette. Angelique can 
watch.'

I lay on my back like a Pasha in his harem, propped against a thick pillow. It did 
not take her long to lick the honey from me, and the pleasure of her tongue 
tickling my balls was beyond description. She knew I wanted her to continue 
without my saying anything, and her tongue roamed all over my cock. I looked 
at her body and the reflection in the mirror. Suddenly I felt melancholy. Those 
lovely little breasts would fill out, and the crease of gravity would appear 
beneath them. Her rosy little nipples would darken and get larger. Her hard 
bottom would  swell and become rounder. Her slim hips would become those of 
a woman. The pretty gap between her slender thighs would disappear. Her silky 
skin would get coarser. Her innocent eyes would become more knowing. For 
three years, four if I was lucky, my nymphet would remain desirable. Then, one 
morning, I would look at her and see a grown woman, of no interest to me. She 
would have to go...to one of my army colleagues as a mistress, or to a tenant-
farmer as a wife, or perhaps back to rue de Rivoli as a whore. Triste la vie, as 
Madame would say.

Suzette must have felt the change in my mood. 'I'm not doing it right, am I 
monsieur. I'm so sorry.'

'You're doing it beautifully, my angel. There, down the front is the most 
sensitive, Yes, like that.'

'Like the front of my button!' She giggled as she licked it.

'And in your mouth. Swallow it and suck hard.'

As she sucked I raised and lowered my hips to enjoy her lips round my shaft. 
My mind moved to more positive thoughts. I would have this delightful little 
girl for several years. I would teach her to enjoy anal play, and have threesomes 
with the prettiest of the village boys and girls. Yes, fortune had been kind to me. 
An image came to me of Suzette riding my cock, while little Yvette, the 
daughter of the village shopkeeper, rode my face. I felt my orgasm rising, like a 
coiled snake.

'When I come, my sweetie, I'll spurt into your mouth. It's like cream. If you 
don't like it spit it out, but it is much nicer for me if you swallow it all.'

I was just in time. As I finished warning her I came. I could see her innocent 
eyes looking up at me as I came. The first spurt took her by surprise, and I could 
see the question in her eyes. But then the look of pleasure, and the sucking, and 
every drop swallowed.

'Will you put it in me now, monsieur...I mean Grandfather?'

'Tonight, in your new home. Now we have to dress to go shopping. Better leave 
these off. They're very damp.' I threw her knickers into a waste-basket.

                                                           FIN