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Archive name: jessica.txt (Mf, rom, ped)
Authors name: The White Rabbit (white_rabbit27@hotmail.com)
Story title : Jessica-Sitting
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Jessica-Sitting (Mf, rom, ped)
by The White Rabbit (white_rabbit27@hotmail.com)
Authors Note: This is a work of fiction. I have never
had sex with a minor, and never intend to. It can be
fun to fantasize about loving sex with a child; but the
reality is abuse and exploitation, which destroys
lives. Children are, without exception, beautiful and
precious, and we must love and protect them.
***
I first met Jessica on the day her mother brought her
back from the hospital. I was given her to hold, and I
gazed enchanted at the tiny thing, trying to hold her
in the way I'd seen, to ensure I didn't hurt her. She
settled in my arms, gurgled a little, and peed down my
front. That's when I fell in love with her.
I was twenty-two, then, and single, but I was already
successful enough to own a house, rather than a flat. I
had ideas, at the time, of constant parties, filling
the house with revels; but it never quite worked out
like that, and I settled into a quiet life, enjoying
the company of various friends and neighbours.
Claire and Andy were both of these, living next-door to
me. Claire was already visibly pregnant when I moved
in; but, by the time she showed me her little daughter,
I was their best friend. So I watched Jessica grow from
a baby to a toddler, from a toddler to a little girl.
More than watched: I was an important part of her life.
I was uncle, friend, and even big brother. She spent
half her life, it seemed, in my house or my garden.
Sometimes we were purely having fun together; but, at
other times, she needed me. Claire and Andy are my
friends, and I love them dearly; but I have to say that
they weren't the world's best parents. I don't mean
they were cruel, or neglectful in any malicious way.
Indeed, Jessica was moderately spoilt, as far as things
were concerned: she named it, she got it. But her
parents were both busy people; and often they seemed to
forget how things seem to a child. When a six-year-old
wants to tell you that she's now read more books than
anyone else in the class, she wants to tell you now:
bedtime tomorrow just won't do. And, if an eight-year-
old is starring in a class play, she doesn't
"understand" that Mummy and Daddy have got a lot on
just now, and they'll make up to her for missing the
show.
Things like this happened with monotonous regularity
through Jessica's childhood; and, so much of the time,
I was the one she turned to instead. I heard about her
triumphs and disappointments in class, before her
parents did. I heard that she'd met her best friend in
the whole wide world today. I came to watch her various
sports successes (admittedly, as a freelance writer, I
could arrange my time to suit myself; but I made the
effort). She even confided in me that she and her best
friend both had a crush on Mr. Davies, her teacher.
Not that Jessica was a lonely child. She always had
plenty of friends, and they played together in her
house and her garden. I didn't join in much (they
needed space to play away from adults) but I met most
of them at one time or another. They all seemed
extremely curious about me.
At the time, I assumed it was just that none of them
had anyone like me. Now, I wonder. She was a lovely
girl. By the time she was ten, her slim body was hard
and athletic (she did gymnastics and ballet, and was
above average at both), with solid muscles moving under
silky baby skin. She had a deep tan that showed her
parentage: Claire was black and Andy was white. Her
face was oval, with a perky little chin and high
cheekbones, and her brown, almond-shaped eyes bright
and mischievous. She wore her black hair short, framing
her face.
That summer, when she'd begun to play in the garden
with her top off, I'd detected a slight hint of a shape
forming from her straight, child's body: a marginal
flaring of the hips, a vague suggestion of swelling
around the nipples on her flat chest. I reflected, with
a regret, which surprised me that she wasn't going to
be playing like this by next summer.
It was that summer that Claire and Andy asked me to
look after Jessica for two weeks. I was happy to, of
course; but I still felt annoyed on her behalf. They
had to go to America: admittedly it was only half a
holiday, and they were combining it with business; but
it was the school holidays, and it wouldn't half needed
too much rearrangement to have their daughter with
them. Before she realized they were leaving her, she
was so excited about the trip, and it devastated her to
learn that she wasn't going.
They bought her lots of expensive presents, to make up
for leaving her; but it wasn't the same. Jessica's
mood was strange, on the day that they left. Having
already brought her things over for the week (though I
had a key, so she could get anything she'd forgotten),
we drove her parents to the airport, said goodbye,
watched from the observation-point until their plane
took off, had a meal in MacDonald's (Jessica hesitated,
tempted by the toy in the kid's meal, but more tempted
by a Big Mac and large fries), stopped off at a toy-
shop to buy two Star Wars figures (a goodie for her and
a baddie for me) and finally got home about six in the
evening. She'd been very quiet, sometimes looking as
though she was on the verge of tears; but I also got
the strange feeling that she was holding in some
excitement. Maybe, I thought, however much more she'd
rather be with her mum and dad, the prospect of
spending a week living and sleeping in my house was
enough of an adventure to be a consolation prize.
My instructions had been that Jessica's bedtime was
eight-thirty; but I had no intention of sticking to
that on the first night. There was no school; and I
felt that she needed a bit of spoiling. So I suggested
she should have a bath, then we could watch one of the
videos I'd got out for her, gorge ourselves on popcorn
and coke, and there'd still be time for her to watch
Friends. It's usually too late for her, and her parents
don't really think it suitable for a ten-year-old.
Personally, I consider it exactly the kind of thing for
a child to "get away" with watching, without coming to
any appalling harm; so she sees my videos of it. But
that's not the same as actually staying up to watch the
real thing.
Jessica must have broken the world record for bathing.
It seemed almost no time before she flew downstairs,
dripping wet and clad only in a towel, to announce that
she'd tickle me mercilessly if she didn't get popcorn
that instant. Then she flung herself down, full-length,
on the sofa, while I went to get the popcorn, then
turned the film on.
"Where am I supposed to sit?" I demanded in mock-
concern. She gave an exaggerated shrug, pulling a
face; then she giggled. "On your bum," she suggested.
Honour demanded that she didn't get away with that, so
I attacked her feet, tickling them mercilessly, till
she screamed surrender. So I lifted her legs up, sat
down and laid her feet on my lap. She giggled again,
snuggled herself into position and started on her
popcorn. Then the film began. Jessica enjoyed most of
the film; but, about two-thirds of the way through, it
lagged a bit, before picking up for the end, and her
attention wandered. She'd already got through a large
box of popcorn and a good deal from mine, as well as
two glasses of coke; but she wanted another drink. By
the time I'd poured it and come back to the sofa, she'd
already draped herself in opposite direction, lying on
the towel, rather than having it around her at all. She
was lying there naked, apparently not even thinking
about it.
In spite of myself, I couldn't help stealing a quick
glance at her crotch. I hadn't seen Jessica completely
naked since she was five, the last time I'd needed to
help her in the bath when I baby-sat. Although I've
never thought of myself as getting turned on by little
girls, I'd come lately to think of her as being sexy,
though only in a proud, pseudo-parental sort of way. So
I couldn't resist checking out whether her little pussy
had developed as gorgeously as the rest of her body.
It had, of course. Though there was no sign of any
hair, it was no longer the fat, baby pussy it had been.
The lips were slightly parted, as she lay with her legs
apart, and I could detect, even from a few feet away, a
slight, heady odour coming from it. I realized,
suddenly embarrassed, that my cock had given a slight
twitch.
Sitting down quickly, afraid that the movement in my
trousers would be visible, not even prepared to
consider the implications of the reaction, I almost sat
on Jessica's head. "Hey, watch out," she demanded, with
purely automatic indignation. "Here, just a mo."
Wriggling, she got me sat down, and laid her head on my
lap. "That's better," she announced, satisfied,
snuggling her head right down onto my disobedient
member, instantly causing it more discomfort. I held my
breath, hoping she wouldn't notice. It wasn't the kind
of thing I wanted to have to explain to her.
More to divert attention than anything, I commented, in
mock outrage, "Why, Miss Jessie, you're in the nuddie."
"Stop it," she told me, pouting. I smiled: she always
hates being called Jessie, though she knows I only do
it to tease her. "Anyway," she added, "it's too hot for
jim-jams. You must be roasted."
I had to admit, I was sweating, and some of it was the
heat of the evening. "You could take your shirt off,
at least," she suggested; then giggled. "Or anything
else you like."
"Jessica Kelly!" I said, pretending to be shocked to
hide the fact that her last comment had just cranked my
horniness up another notch. "OK," I conceded. "This
shirt has got to go. This sofa ain't big enough for it
and me." She watched me carefully, as I pulled the tee-
shirt over my head. "You've got a lovely body, Steve,"
she commented, her voice a little huskier than usual. I
almost freaked at that; till I reminded myself that
this was a ten-year-old child saying these things. It
was undoubtedly quite innocent. "Why, thanks,
Jessica," I said, trying to sound as natural as I
could. "And you've got an absolutely gorgeous body."
She giggled; but it was sheer pleasure, not a trace of
embarrassment.
"Really?" she asked. "Is that why your willy's got
bigger?" It's lucky I haven't got a weak heart, or I
might have dropped dead on the spot. "What do you
mean?" I asked weakly.
She shrugged, apparently unconcerned. "Your willy got
bigger and harder," she said, "when you saw me in the
nuddie. Sarah says that's what happens to a boy's willy
when he fancies a girl."
I remembered Sarah: a plain girl with mousy hair, she
was Jessica's current best-friend-in-the-whole-wide-
world-ever. Obviously a precocious child. At that
precise moment, I'd have happily strangled her.
"Well, sometimes," I said, trying to improvise fast.
"But other things do the same. Like... erm... the heat.
That can do it, too. It's very hot tonight, isn't it?"
"Oh... Yes." I was surprised at how disappointed
Jessica sounded. I supposed that it would have been a
feather in her cap, if her body had been sexy enough to
give an adult a hard-on. I felt mean taking that away
from her, especially when it actually was true; but the
alternative was a road I didn't feel willing to go
down. Not then.
So she went back to watching the film and drinking her
coke, an action she performed faultlessly, in spite of
being horizontal. The boring bit of the film was coming
to an end, and Jessica got caught up in it again,
apparently forgetting completely what we'd just been
discussing. I tried to do the same; but it wasn't so
easy, with a gorgeous, naked girl draped across me, her
head pushed against my already-erect cock. I was no
longer trying to deny, to myself at least, that
Jessica's naked little body was turning me on. At
least, I thought, I knew that I cared too much about
Jessica that there was any danger of giving in to the
temptation to abuse her.
The video ended ten minutes before Friends was due to
start, and Jessica rushed upstairs for the toilet.
After all, she'd had three glasses of coke, by now, and
she must have needed it. I sat quietly, trying to
regain control of my body and think of strategies in
case the same thing happened again; but, before I'd had
time to do either, a streak of naked little girl came
tearing down the stairs and straight onto my lap. With
her knees on either side of me, she leant forward and
kissed me smack on the mouth. She didn't exactly use
her tongue; but it was a much wetter kiss than I'd have
expected from her. Needless to say, it more than undid
any progress I might have made.
"Jessica," I said, after she'd pulled her face away,
"what was that for?" She looked at me with a half-
conscious, flirting cuteness. "Because I love you,
Steve," she said simply.
I couldn't see any other course but to continue playing
it as though nothing had occurred to me beyond what was
proper. "Thank you, darling," I said calmly. "I love
you too."
Jessica suddenly gave me that direct, serious look
children reserve for having to explain things to an
adult who might be capable of understanding, if treated
carefully. "I know," she said, "but I don't just mean
like we always have. I love you... sort of... like a
boyfriend."
It felt as if my stomach had raced up to my mouth and
I'd swallowed it again.
"Do you mean," I ventured cautiously, "like you felt
about Mr. Davies?" "No," she said, clearly trying to be
patient, "that was just..." She hesitated, trying to
think of what exactly it was, then gave up. "With you,
it's real. I love you, Steve. And... and I think you're
beautiful and sexy, too." Her face was only a few
inches from mine. Her eyes were very wide and bright,
her lips were wet and slightly parted, and her cheeks
were very flushed. The observing part of my mind
reflected that, if Jessica were twenty rather than ten,
I'd need no more incentive: she was giving me a clear
invitation to seduce her, and I'd have taken it. As it
was, my cock had already voted to accept; but how could
I take advantage of my friends' ten-year-old daughter?
Jessica was watching me expectantly, her naked little
body quivering nervously. "So are you, sweetheart," I
told her, playing for time. She leant slightly further
forward. "Then why don't you kiss me?" I lost. Putting
my arms around her, I drew her body against my bare
torso, placed a hand behind her head to pull it gently
to mine, and kissed her. The child slithered and flowed
into the kiss, returning it passionately. I was very
tempted to start probing with my tongue, but I
resisted. Although our mouths were both open, and I was
kissing the wet insides of her lips, it still stopped
just short of being overtly sexual.
I'm not sure how long we kissed for. I was aware that
Jessica was undulating her body, rubbing her chest
against mine and blatantly rubbing her bare crotch over
my stiff cock, only the material of my trousers and
underpants preventing direct contact. I knew I should
stop her doing it, but I was powerless. I found that I
was caressing her, my hand wandering between her neck
and the small of her back.
Then, without warning, she pulled away with a shout.
Before I'd even had time to wonder what I'd done, she
squealed, "It's starting," and squirmed herself around,
in one movement, to sit with her back against my chest,
her head nestled in my shoulder and her thighs apart so
that her crotch still trapped my clothed cock. Glancing
up at me accusingly, she commented, "It's not the heat
doing that, is it?"
I shook my head, still feeling nervous, but a little
more confident, after the kiss. "No," I said, "that's
because you're such a gorgeous little sexpot." She
giggled, then gave her attention to the screen. I
wasn't sure, for a moment, how to react; but she
absent-mindedly took hold of my hands and wrapped my
arms around her, depositing one hand on a nipple, the
other on a thigh. I obligingly caressed both, without
allowing myself to wander beyond what she herself had
initiated.
Jessica hardly moved till the commercials, when she
suddenly unclasped my arms and jumped up. "Your
trousers are rubbing me," she complained. "Why don't
you take them off?"
In spite of what had already happened, this shocked me.
"Jessica," I said, "I don't really think that's a good
idea."
"Why not?" she asked, very directly. "You chicken?"
Once again, instincts short-circuited common-sense, and
I found myself slipping my jeans down my legs. Jessica
stood watching, her eyes rooted to my underpants
(strangely shaped, now) and a delighted smile on her
face. "And those," she instructed. "Then we'll both be
in the nuddie." "No, that's not..." I began; but,
before I could get further, Jessica had pounced,
dragging my underpants down, screaming in delight when
my fully-erect cock sprang from its confinement. Before
I could react, she'd leapt back up and was kissing me
as passionately as before, wriggling her body against
mine; only this time it was my naked hard-on that was
rubbing her crotch. Then the show started again, and
she was back facing the TV as before, only now with the
purple head of my cock sticking out from between her
thighs. I couldn't find the will to resist.
When Friends had finally finished, Jessica gave a long
sigh, stretched back against me, then turned to look up
at me. "I like being rude with you," she said in a
dreamy voice. "It's much better than with Sarah." That
hit me like an express train. "Sarah?" I asked blankly.
"What do you mean? What do you do with Sarah?"
It was only when I saw her face fall that, belatedly, I
realized how accusing I'd sounded. "It's all right," I
assured her quickly. "I don't mean there's anything
wrong. But... Can you tell me what exactly you mean?"
Several strands of thought were racing through my head.
At one level, I was remembering plain little Sarah, and
trying to relate the image to what Jessica was saying.
If I understood correctly, and there was something
sexual going on between them, surely Jessica could find
someone prettier. But maybe that was less important, at
ten years old, then friendship and trust. The other
thought, though, that occurred to me was to wonder
whether it was Sarah who had initiated whatever had
happened. What exactly was that, and how did the child
know about it? Was she passing on the experience of
abuse?
But Jessica simply said, wide-eyed, "Well, Sarah said
she'd seen her sister... um... rubbing herself... you
know, between her legs. She thought she was on her own,
but Sarah saw her. So we... er... decided to try it
ourselves. And it felt sooo good, Steve, you wouldn't
believe it. So we did it whenever we were private
together. Then, a couple of weeks ago, we were doing
it, and I felt so good, and Sarah looked so excited,
that I kissed her, and we had a cuddle while we were
rubbing ourselves. Then... I don't know how it
happened, really, Steve, but we started rubbing each
other, instead, and it felt even better. So now, when
we can, we get in the nuddie, cuddle up and rub each
other." Her face lit up. "Steve, shall I show you what
to do? I'm sure it would feel even better with you than
with Sarah."
I'd no will to resist, and I simply nodded, unwilling
to trust my voice. "Put your hand between my legs,"
said Jessica, in what must have been a fair impression
of one of her teachers. "You'll find a sort of... um,
gap between two, sort of, folds... Oh, yes, you've
found it." Her voice staggered into a gasp, losing the
mock-teacher expression. "Yes, rub your finger along
just inside... Now, move it, sort of, up to the front,
try and find a little knob... Oooohhhh... Oh, Steve,
that's heaven. Rub it gently... Yes... Yeeeessss..."
Needless to say, I knew exactly how to rub a clit to
give maximum turn on for the woman - or girl, in this
case - but I did it in such a way that Jessica simply
thought she was teaching me effectively and quickly.
She got us lying together on the sofa, and I worked
hard on her clit, remembering to keep one step behind
her instructions. I "learnt" how to massage the little
button, how to dip a fingertip just into the tiny cunt-
hole for lubrication (I didn't realize till I started
just how wet my little girlfriend was); she even
suggested I should play with her nipples with my free
hand. They were tight and erect, on their little puffy
nubs, and she moaned and writhed when I got to work on
them.
Eventually, Jessica was so far gone, groaning, panting,
throwing herself around the sofa, that I realized I no
longer needed to pretend to follow instructions.
Indeed, what instructions were coming now were in the
form of semi-articulate grunts, pleading with me to "do
it more," and "make me get there." I assumed, from
this, that she didn't know any of the terminology. Why
should she? She and her little girlfriend had only been
following the instinct for pleasure.
Finally, she began bucking and jerking spasmodically,
giving out hoarse little yells in time with her
movements. For a moment, I was worried about the noise;
then I remembered that the only house actually
adjoining mine was Jessica's own, which was empty. In
any case, the sounds of pleasure coming from my house
weren't completely unknown. There was nothing in
Jessica's cries that marked them out as coming from a
child.
I didn't let up my attentions until Jessica's orgasm
had died down, and she was lying, bathed in sweat,
cloudy, dazed eyes gazing at me, giving tiny gasps and
moans of pleasure. I took her into my arms and began
kissing all over her face, alternatively tender and
playful. I nuzzled up to her ear, and whispered little
endearments, telling her how much I loved her.
After a while, Jessica focused on me again, with a
heartbreakingly beautiful mixture of adoration, shyness
and desire. She gave me a lingering kiss on the lips,
then moved a little away with a sigh. "That was
lovely," she murmured. "Better than Sarah's ever done
it. I wish... I wish..." A dreamy look came over her
face.
"What do you wish, sweetheart?" I asked softly.
"I wish I could do it for you, make you feel as good."
It was one of those moments of decision. I'd already
done enough to go to jail, if I were caught; but, to my
own conscience, if not to the law, I could at least
point out that I'd done nothing except give Jessica
pleasure. But here she was now, almost begging me to
give her a way to return that pleasure. Even if I could
have resisted the temptation (which I doubt) to have
the sweetest, most beautiful little girl in the world
attending to my cock, making me come, how could I
resist that plea, her need to match what I'd given her?
"You can, darling," I said cautiously. "But only if you
really want to.
Anything you don't think you'd like to do, you've got
to say so, and not do it." She looked at me curiously,
and I was worried, for a moment, that the warning had
freaked her. But, after a slight hesitation, she simply
nodded. "Now, I haven't got a lovely slit or button or
hole like you have; but I've got this." Taking her
hand, I put it to rest lightly on my cock.
"Your willy?" she asked, staring at me with her nose
slightly wrinkled. I noticed, though, that she made no
attempt to remove her hand. I nodded. "Well, you know
it gets excited by a beautiful, sexy girl, like you?"
She nodded, slowly, looking as if she was beginning to
understand. "Well, another thing that makes it excited
is being rubbed. A bit like I rubbed your little
button." She nodded gravely, but gave no other
response. "I sometimes do that myself. Like you and
Sarah did, before you found out you could share. But,
just like you found, it can be even better if someone
else does it. Especially if someone else is the most
gorgeous little sexpot in the universe." That broke the
spell, and made her giggle. "What am I supposed to do?"
she asked.
"I told you," I said quickly, "you aren't supposed to
do anything. You only do it if you want to. But, if
you're going to do, start stroking the shaft. Yes, like
that."
Jessica learnt almost as quickly as I'd pretended to.
Within minutes, she was teasing and flicking the knob,
playing curiously with the little rim of foreskin
around it, investigating the hole with pre-cum oozing
out, running her fingernails up and down the underside
and making me want to scream. I got her to use her
spare hand on my balls, even to run her nails back to
my arse-hole, although she balked at putting her finger
in. That was, as she put it, too gross.
Still, it wasn't long before I knew I was ready to
shoot my load. It was then I remembered, belatedly,
that I hadn't warned her what would happen. I was too
far gone to stop and have a conversation about it; but
I managed to gasp out, "Darling... Something's going
to... to come out of my... my willy. It's not pee, it's
OK. Don't be scared."
"I'm not scared," she said absently, all her attention
on my cock and the strange things that were happening
to it.
I never got time to reply. Feeling my balls fill and
tighten, I gave a long, drawn-out groan and pulled
Jessica to me, kissing her hard, as I shot out spasm
after spasm of cum over her hands and any part of her
body that got in the way. For an instant, she
stiffened in shocked surprise, before she gave a little
giggle of delight, and kept milking my cock, until it
was long empty and she was starting to rub it raw.
Gently removing her hand, I took her in my arms, as I
had after her own orgasm, telling softly how much I
loved her. I'm not sure how long we lay like that; but
I eventually realized that her breathing had become
quiet and even, with a slight hint of a snore in it.
Standing up carefully, so as not to wake her, I gently
lifted Jessica up in my arms and carried her upstairs.
For a moment, I considered taking her to my bed; but I
wasn't sure how she'd react to that, when she woke up.
Instead, I deposited her in the spare room, where she'd
expected to be sleeping. She had quite a bit of my cum
over her, so I got a flannel from the bathroom and
wiped her clean, taking care not to disturb her. Then I
pulled the duvet over her beautiful, slim body, and
gave her the lightest kiss I could on the forehead.
Without fully rousing, she gave a contented sigh and
snuggled deeper under the covers. I left the room,
turning off the light.
Jessica was unusually quiet at breakfast, hardly
speaking except to answer me in little more than grunts
and not meeting my eyes. I was terrified, at first,
wondering if she was angry about what had happened last
night, even frightened of me. It was only gradually
that I realized she was actually shy and uncertain, no
doubt with the same fears about me as I had about her.
Once I'd realized that, I began to chat as naturally as
I could, making a few passing comments about how
wonderful last night had been; and, sure enough, I was
rewarded at last as she relaxed and began to behave
more normally.
Eventually, when she'd finished her breakfast, she
leant over to give me a brief, delicious kiss on the
lips. "I love you," she murmured, then turned and fled
upstairs. When she came down again, I asked her what
she wanted to do that day. Part of me was hoping that
she'd ask straight away for more sex (or however she
might put that); but I was fundamentally relieved when
she asked to go swimming, then have a picnic. I
wouldn't have wanted sex to have replaced our usual
friendship.
This being the school holidays, the pool was seething
with children; and it caused me an unexpected problem.
A week ago, I'd have maybe eyed up one or two
attractive women, perhaps been vaguely aware if the
mid-teen girls had bouncing tits and cute arses. But,
as if Jessica had opened the floodgates, I now found
myself surrounded by sexy little girls, the tight, wet
fabric of their costumes stretched erotically over
their little nubs and between their legs. There was no
danger of me doing anything to get caught; but it
worried me a bit when I found myself surreptitiously
ogling a little blonde heartbreaker who couldn't have
been older than three. Had I suddenly, overnight,
turned into an incurable pedophile?
Jessica spent a little while trying to do some
"serious" swimming (she's as good at swimming as at
most activities), but eventually gave up, after
innumerable collisions, and we played together for a
while. It wasn't so very different from how we'd have
played before; but she teased and flirted a bit and,
between her and all the other little beauties, I was
scared that my interest would be too obvious in my
trunks. But, if anyone noticed, they gave no sign.
No-one, that is, except my little darling; and it
wasn't until we'd driven out into a place I knew in the
woods, and had our blanket on the ground and our picnic
hamper open, that Jessica suddenly asked, "Did I look
that sexy in my swimsuit, then?"
"What sexy?" I asked, partly from shyness, partly to
tease her. I knew what she was talking about.
She tossed her head. "Your willy was even bigger than
last night," she pointed out. "Was that all for me, or
did you fancy someone else there?" "You're the only one
I want," I assured her quickly; and I saw satisfaction
on her face. I felt a little guilty, since I had been
turned on by the other kids as well; but it was true
that I didn't want any of them. Then her face turned
suddenly serious, and she gazed hard at me. "Steve,"
she said. "You know last night? When I showed you what
to do?" "Uh-huh."
"You knew, really, didn't you?"
I only hesitated the barest instant, before deciding
that Jessica deserved honesty from me. I nodded. "Yes.
But I thought it would be more fun, if we did it like
that. Playing a game."
She nodded slowly, and I realized, with relief, that
she wasn't cross with me. "Is that what you do with
your girlfriends?" she asked. I'd always discussed my
love-life with Jessica, though not in that sort of
detail. Her advice had often been valuable. "I always
thought you just kissed." "Well... yes. Among other
things."
Her face lit up. "Other things? Can we do them, too?" I
hesitated. The mere thought of fucking Jessica had made
my cock suddenly rear up; but I suspected I shouldn't.
Then again, I shouldn't have rubbed her pussy. I
shouldn't have got her to jerk me off. I shouldn't have
cum all over her. But Jessica had loved it all, and I
couldn't see that the experience had harmed her.
Maybe...
"Well... we'll see," I told her cautiously. "But only
if you're sure you want to. You can tell me stop, if
you don't like anything."
She nodded gravely. "Then I'll have something to tell
Sarah about," she commented.
My heart flip-flopped. "No," I said; and immediately
regretted my tone, as I saw shock on her face. "I'm
sorry, darling," I said gently, reaching out to stroke
her face. "I didn't mean to frighten you. It's just
that I could get into a lot of trouble, if anyone found
out what we're doing." She thought about that a moment.
"But I told you about Sarah," she pointed out, "and her
mum would probably ground her, if she found out. It's
only fair."
"But I'd be in trouble with the law, darling," I
explained. "They'd put me in prison."
The shock on her face was almost frightening. "Why?"
she demanded after a moment.
I took a deep breath, knowing that I had to get this
exactly right. On the one hand, I needed Jessica to
understand why she had to keep this a secret. As far as
I could see, the only alternative would have been to
threaten her; and I'd rather take my chances than
resort to that. On the other hand, though, I didn't
want to plant any seed of doubt that might lead her to
think that we were doing wrong. That I was abusing her.
"You see," I began slowly, "one of the things the law
tries to do is to protect children. There are a lot of
grown-ups out there who try to do things to children
that hurt them, or upset them. If anyone does sexy
things to someone else when they don't want it, that
can be very distressing." She looked at me doubtfully.
"Is that what rape is?" she asked. I nodded.
"But what's that got to do with us?"
"The law doesn't know every child it tries to protect,"
I told her. "It tends to assume that all children are
rather weak and don't know what they want. A lot are,
and the law has to stop grown-ups from taking advantage
of them. But the people who make the laws don't know
how wonderful and sensible and grown-up Jessica Kelly
is, and how she knows exactly what she wants. So, even
though what we're doing is loving and beautiful,
they... think they have to play it safe, and try to
protect you."
She was staring at me open-mouthed. "You mean, they'd
think you were raping me? But you're not. I could tell
them that."
"They wouldn't believe you," I told her gently. "They'd
think you were just saying what I'd told you to say."
She was chewing her lower lip, looking as if she was
going to cry. "Jessica, I'm not telling you this to
upset you. You and I both know that we're in love, and
that's all that matters. I'm just trying to explain why
no-one else must know. Will you promise me that?"
Hanging her head, she nodded slowly. It looked half-
hearted; but I knew her well enough to realize that the
reverse was true: it was all going very deeply into
her. Feeling able to relax a bit, I conceded, "I
understand what you mean about Sarah, though. Maybe
it's not fair, when I know about her but she doesn't
know about me. I'll have to think about it. But will
you promise not to tell her until I say it's all
right?"
Jessica looked up, and there were tears in her eyes.
"Of course I promise, Steve. I'd rather die than do
anything to hurt you."
That was more than I could resist. I drew her into my
arms, and began kissing her: first her lips, then
planting kisses all over her face, until it creased up
and she began to wriggle and giggle. Only then, I
returned to her mouth and began a long, slow, wet kiss.
She returned it passionately, in fierce, sensual bursts
and seductive interludes of surrender to my invasion.
After a while, I pushed the tip of my tongue between
her half-open teeth, provoking a muffled squeal,
followed a second later by a renewed assault of ten-
year-old passion. As soon as I withdrew my tongue, the
child pushed hers into my mouth, exploring me
sensuously.
We broke off the kiss at last, more for lack of oxygen
than anything, and knelt there holding each other
tightly. "I love you, Jessica," I whispered in her ear.
At that, she pulled a little away from me, looking at
me seriously. For a moment, I thought I'd done
something wrong; but, swiftly and without a word, she
pulled the tee-shirt over her head, pulled down shorts
and knickers in one and wriggled out of them. "Now
you," she begged hoarsely. I hesitated a moment,
looking around. This was a little-frequented part of
the forest anyway, and I'd managed to find a small
clearing shielded from view of the path. I wasn't
absolutely certain that no-one would come this way; but
it seemed unlikely. My brain said, still not
impossible. My cock, straining inside my clothes, said,
too unlikely to matter. My brain said, is it really
worth the risk? I looked at Jessica's delicious little
body; and my cock said, yes. I undressed, almost as
quickly as she had.
She lay back on the blanket, her legs apart, watching
me expectantly. It clearly hadn't occurred to her that
the protocols of sex-play might involve her sometimes
pleasing me first; but I had no objection to this.
Jessica would have a lifetime to learn about equality
in lovemaking. At ten, she deserved to be pampered.
In any case, I think I'd have shot my load on the spot,
if she'd rubbed my cock just then. So I lay at right
angles to her, resting my head on her belly, and began
tickling her crotch. As I expected, she started
giggling. I'd already got used to that special giggle
of hers: lewd and dirty, yet somehow still totally
innocent. Turning my face up towards hers, I made a
comic face and gave one of her nipples a big lick. She
simply took this as playing about, which was the idea:
for what I had in mind, I wanted her to get used to me
using my tongue.
"Rub my button," she pleaded. I raised an eyebrow.
"Please?" she added, very exaggeratedly. So I let my
finger play up into her pussy, and find that delectable
little clit I'd got to know last night. Meantime, I let
my mouth go to work on her nipples, giving them little
playful sucks and nips. After a few moments of writhing
and gasping with pleasure, she put one hand gently on
the back of my head, stroking my hair and giving little
pushes to encourage what I was doing. So I began
sucking her nipples harder, moving from one to the
other, and was rewarded with jerks of her little body
and staccato moans. Before she could reach orgasm, I
lifted my head from her tits and smiled up at her. She
gave a groan, "Oh, no, don't stop, please..." "You like
my mouth?" I asked softly. Her answer was incoherent,
but definitely in the affirmative. "Well," I said, "try
it like this." And I started kissing down her body,
giving a big, dog-like lick to her belly-button, then
moving towards her crotch.
"No," she slurred, as she realized where I was heading,
"you can't... not down there... you can't... not where
I do a wee... no... oooooohhhhh..." That last marked
the moment my tongue flicked her clitty, as well as the
end of anything coherent she said for a while. I
tongued the child's little knob a few more times,
licked along her slit, then returned to flick,
snakelike, over that button. She tasted heavenly, light
and sweet, with only the slightest traces of chlorine
from the swimming-pool. I gathered that she'd showered
before she dressed again.
I licked my darling's tight little pussy, half-drunk on
its honey, while she bucked about, moaning and crying.
I parted her lips with my fingers, rubbing them, moving
one finger down to her puckered arse-hole. Remembering
her reluctance to play with mine last night, I resisted
the temptation to push the finger in; but I played with
the hole, and the extra reactions I got told me that
she'd be thinking seriously, in the future, about the
arse as a source of pleasure.
Finally, the whole of Jessica's lower body began to
spasm, and I heard her pussy making little slurping,
sucking noises, as more of her sweet juices wept out.
She arched up, lifting her torso right off the ground,
balancing only on her shoulders and feet. I could hear
her moaning, over and over, "Yes, yes, yes, yes..."
Then she went into convulsions. I couldn't keep my
tongue on her clit; but it didn't seem to matter, her
orgasm was triggered and it seemed to keep going on its
own momentum.
Then her body collapsed to the ground. She was
trembling all over; and, when I moved up to take her in
my arms, I realized she was crying. It sent a stab of
pain into my heart. "What's the matter, darling?" I
asked, between kissing her face. "Did I hurt you? I'm
sorry."
Turning her face up, she kissed me between sobs. "Oh
no, Steve, you don't have to... It was so beautiful, I
can't bear it. I've never felt anything so wonderful in
my life, Steve, and it's over. Just hold me very, very
tight. Tell me you love me, please."
"I love you, Jessica, I love you, darling," I told her,
over and over, as I pulled her fiercely against me,
holding her tightly, until she'd stopped crying. Then
I kissed lightly all around her eyes, and licked a tear
from her bright red cheeks. She gave something between
a sob and a giggle. "Oh, I love so much, Steve. So
much, it hurts."
We lay quietly for a while, caressing each other; and,
at last, Jessica's hand reached my still-erect cock.
She giggled. "Your willy's still excited, Steve," she
commented. "Do you want me to rub it? Or... are there
any other things we could try?"
"What do you mean?" I asked carefully, not wanting to
push her into anything she wasn't ready for.
"Well..." She hesitated. "We did all the woman's egg
and man's seed stuff at school. I know they have to
meet up in the woman's tummy; but no-one explained how
the seed gets there. I think... The pussy seems the
best way in; and I think what came out of your willy
last night might have something to do with the seed."
She looked at me for encouragement; but I deliberately
remained noncommittal, although my heart was pounding.
"So... The stuff came out when I rubbed your willy. If
you put it in my pussy, like your finger, that would
rub it too. And it would be good for me, too." She
looked up at me. "Is that one of the things you do with
your girlfriends?"
I nodded. "It is. It's called fucking, and it's the
best thing of all. But it's something you only do if
you're really sure you want to." "I'm sure," she said;
but she didn't sound totally confident. "Will it fit?"
I glanced down at my straining cock. I've never had any
reason to be ashamed of my erection; but, for the first
time, I felt grateful that it was nothing spectacular.
"It certainly fits in a grown-up pussy," I assured her
cautiously. "It should fit in yours; but it might hurt
a little."
Her face crumpled abruptly, lips pouting, mouth turned
down, eyes threatening to overflow again. "Do you mean,
that thing where it hurts like hell and bleeds?" she
asked tremulously.
For a moment, I couldn't believe what she was saying.
"What do you mean?" I demanded.
"Well, last week Sarah and I were... you know, having
fun, and something made us jump, and Sarah had her
finger in my pussy, and... Like I say, it hurt and
bled."
My reaction was complex. Mostly, I was relieved that I
wouldn't need to hurt my darling. But also... There's
an odd kind of primal need in a man to take a girl's
virginity; and I was almost disappointed that I'd been
beaten to it by a ten-year-old's finger.
But I didn't let Jessica see any of this. Instead, I
smiled reassuringly. "That's OK," I said. "It only
happens the first time; so you'll never have that
again. It would stretch your pussy, and that might hurt
a bit, though." She thought for a moment. "I want to do
it, though," she said at last. "How do we do it?"
I thought a moment. My head was whirling at the thought
that I was going to fuck a ten-year-old girl, who was
as close to me as a daughter. Now that it came to it,
now Jessica was actually asking me to do it to her, I
actually felt a bit scared, and reluctant to proceed.
But I shook that off, and thought about the problem. I
needed a position where she felt comfortable and in
control. "Let me lie on my back," I suggested. "Yes,
like that. Now you kneel up, with your legs either side
of me."
"Like this?" she asked, doing as I said, her crotch
resting lightly on my belly.
"That's great... Just slide back a bit, and lift your
bum up. That's right. Now, just get that gorgeous
little pussy resting against the head of my cock... my
willy, that is. Oh, yes, sweetheart, like that." The
swollen head of my stiff cock had nudged just between
her soaking cunt-lips, and I could feel her juices
bathing it. "Now, angel, I've chosen this position so
that you'll be in control. Use the force of gravity to
help push it in..." I winked. "I take it you learnt
about gravity at school, too?" She giggled and nodded.
"Go at your own pace," I told her, "and stop for a bit
if it starts hurting."
Jessica nodded, then pushed down a bit, experimentally,
squealing as my dick came into contact with the
entrance to her tiny hole. Taking a deep breath, she
settled down a bit harder, forcing the soft, tight
flesh to stretch around the foreign object. Very, very
slowly, with long rests in between, she pushed herself
down, not so much forcing my cock into her as forcing
her sweet, wet cunt-flesh around my erection.
Finally, after what seemed a long time, I felt the tip
nudge against her cervix. "Stop there, sweetheart," I
told her softly. "You might hurt yourself, if you go in
any further."
She nodded, but looked crestfallen. She was breathing
in gasps, her face was bright red and her eyes were
watering, though I was satisfied that these weren't
tears. "I wanted to get it right in," she said.
I glanced down my body: an inch or two still showed at
the base. "There isn't room for all of it," I said.
"You've done brilliantly to get that much in. I'm proud
of you, darling." Her face lit up in that smile that
had always made life worthwhile; though it had never
been for anything as intimate as this. "Come here and
cuddle me," I invited, holding out my arms; and she let
her little torso fall forward on top of me, resting her
face on my chest, as I caressed her and kissed the top
of her head.
After a while, I whispered, "Ready for the next bit?" I
felt Jessica nod, though she didn't look up; so I slid
one hand down to her arse, stroking it for a moment,
before I began pushing it down, humping myself back and
forth to meet her. If it had felt good before, my prick
squeezed tightly by the velvety walls trying to close
up, that was nothing to the wet friction as I stroked
in and out of Jessica's tiny cunt-hole.
She was gasping and writhing, making rhythmical noises
that sounded more like an animal than anything. When I
worked a finger a little way into her arse-hole, she
gave a low, bestial growl. For a moment, I thought she
was upset; then she started humping back and forth,
between the cock in her cunt and the finger in her
arse.
At last, she began to moan more urgently, and her tight
cunt-walls went into spasms, making obscenely beautiful
slurping sounds around the cock filling it. Her arse
clenched firmly on my finger, and she gave a drawn-out
wail as her whole body convulsed. It was all my aching
balls needed, and I shot half-a-dozen spurts of cum
deep into her immature womb.
After what seemed the longest orgasm I'd ever
witnessed, Jessica collapsed on top of me like a rag-
doll, drenched in sweat. Scarcely in a better state
myself, I held her hot, trembling little body, until
we'd both got our breath back. My cock had gone down a
little, so I pulled her gently upwards towards my face.
She gave a little cry when it plopped out, though I
couldn't tell whether from pain or disappointment. I
carefully extracted the finger from her arse-hole, too;
then I drew Jessica to me, kissing her lips gently and
tenderly. After a while, she began to kiss me back, her
little tongue-tip playing and flirting between my
teeth.
At last, she drew away from me and knelt up, thighs
still stride me. "I'm hungry," she said. "I hope you
made ham and pickle sarnies." I couldn't help laughing.
Her was my cute little ten-year-old girl, sweating and
flushed from the fucking she'd just taken, my cum and
her juices dribbling out from between her cunt-lips,
eyes smoldering with lust; and she was acting just as
she always had on picnics, wanting to stuff her face. I
realized then, fully, what had happened. Jessica had
become my lover; but I hadn't lost the friend I'd
played with for the last ten years. I had the best of
both worlds now.
"Course I did," I told her, still laughing. "But I'll
fight you for the sausage-rolls."
She leapt off me, squealing with laughter; but she
stopped abruptly, and looked back at me, her eyes soft
and misty. "It's only a game," she whispered. "I'd
share anything with you, Steve."
"Even ham and pickle sarnies?" I teased her.
"Even ham and pickle sarnies," she said. "I love you,
Steve." "I love you, too, Jessica," I said. I knew that
was true. Like I say, I fell in love with her at first
sight. "Bet I beat you to the coke, though." And we
both dived, shrieking with laughter, for the picnic
hamper.
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The archive does not condone child abuse, we also do
not censor authors. Anyone acting out such scenarios
in real life can look forward to many unproductive
years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in
their local penitentiary.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 12