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Archive name: becky.txt (Mf-teen, rom, 1st, ped)
Authors name: The White Rabbit (white_rabbit27@hotmail.com)
Story title : Becky on a Summer Day

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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2001.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
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Becky on a Summer Day (Mf-teen, rom, 1st, ped)
by The White Rabbit (white_rabbit27@hotmail.com)

***

A fourteen-year-old girl's meeting with a stranger leads 
to the most exciting day of her life.

Author's note: This is a work of fiction. I have never 
had sex with a minor, and I would strongly urge readers 
not to confuse fantasy with reality.

*

It was the hottest day of the year; and young Becky was 
dressed for it, in shorts and a bikini-top that showed 
off her lovely, tanned body to good advantage. And there 
was plenty to show off. Although not yet fifteen, Becky 
already had large breasts, the soft, firm globes of a 
well-endowed adolescent, revealed more than hidden by 
the bikini. Her tight, small midriff flaunted itself 
without shame or conceit; while the snug shorts hinted 
at the charms of her cute shaved crotch and firm, 
jutting bum.

She felt rather naughty. Normally, her parents, who were 
quite strict, wouldn't have dreamed of letting her go 
out in the street dressed like that. 

But today was so hot that even they acknowledged that 
comfort came first.

Many of the men who passed by ogled her, some unaware of 
how young she was, others doubtless aroused by it. It 
would have surprised many of them, however, to find that 
this provocative young tease had gone a year without a 
boyfriend. Plenty of boys in her class would have gladly 
gone out with her. 

But that was the trouble: they were boys. She'd grown to 
want more than their immaturity, their fumbling in the 
park on the way home from dates, and their wham-bam-
thank-you-ma'am approach to sex. If it weren't that 
Becky enjoyed giving pleasure, perhaps even more than 
receiving it, she would have long ago decided that the 
only good sex was the kind she enjoyed alone in her 
bedroom.

Largely oblivious to the glorious day around her, Becky 
was pulled out of her reverie by a car drawing up beside 
her, and an English accent from inside saying, "Excuse 
me, I wonder if you can help me. I think I'm lost."

The face looking out seemed mature, but still fresh and 
unlined. The man had dark-brown hair and a beard; and 
his dark eyes, big and liquid, mesmerized her.

"Where do you want to go?" Becky asked, realising, as 
she did, that she was tossing her black hair flirtingly 
back over her shoulders.

"The Lincoln Heights Hotel," he said. "I'm staying 
there; but I can't find my way back."

"I'm not surprised," she told him. "It's right over on 
the other side of town. Umm..." She tried to visualise 
the route, but it was too hot. "I'm not sure if I can 
give you directions," she said lamely; then, before she 
realised what she was saying, added, "I could come with 
you and show you, though."

The man looked surprised. "That would be really nice of 
you, if you're sure you don't mind being in a stranger's 
car."

Becky, who was wondering about that herself, found that, 
for reasons she never did fully understand, she was 
smiling and saying, "Course not."

They talked, during the ride. Becky told the man a lot 
about herself: more than she usually even told friends. 
He told her less about himself (she realised, later, 
that she didn't actually ask his name) but said that he 
was on an extended American holiday.

At last, the car drew up beside a large hotel. "Well, 
we're here," said Becky, feeling strangely sorry that 
the journey was over.

"I'm really grateful," said the man. "Not only for 
showing me the way, but for making the journey so 
delightful. You'll need to get a cab back, won't you? 
How much do you think that'll cost?" His hand stopped 
halfway to his wallet. "Unless, of course..." Becky 
looked at him questioningly, holding her breath, 
wondering what he was going to say. "The hotel's got a 
good bar. Can I buy you a drink?"

Becky looked down in confusion. "Er... I'm not really 
dressed for a bar, am I?" she commented, glancing down 
at her shorts and bikini-top.

He snorted. "I'm inviting you for a drink," he said, 
"not your clothes."

She blushed. "I'm not old enough to drink," she said. "I 
don't know if they'll let me in."

He grinned. "Well, there's only one way to find out, 
isn't there?"

They did get away with Becky having one drink, by 
sitting in a corner furthest from the bar. They got on 
even better than before, chatting and giggling together 
as if he was her own age; yet, at the same time, she 
felt utterly safe with him. She was, not surprisingly, 
getting eyed up by many of the single men in the 
barroom; but his care cloaked her without stifling, 
making it clear to everyone that she was under his 
protection. After a while, a little light-headed, Becky 
came and sat on his lap, giving him little kisses, 
feeling his hands lightly caressing her bare, tanned 
skin.

Eventually, the barkeeper had begun to notice them, and 
was giving them dirty looks. Becky giggled. "I think I'm 
gonna get thrown out," she whispered. "Pity, I was 
enjoying myself."

"I tell you what," suggested her companion. "Why don't 
we get a bottle of wine and take it up to my room? No-
one to chuck you out there."

Becky knew it was supposed to be a bad idea; but she 
didn't really believe that, and agreed without 
hesitation. So they went up to his room together and 
started on the wine, sitting together talking and 
giggling and kissing. 

 The man, whose name Becky still hadn't asked, had his 
arm around her, absent-mindedly playing with her breasts 
through her bikini-top. Becky, her head laid on his 
shoulder, was vaguely thinking that she ought to stop 
him; but it felt so good, and she really didn't want it 
to stop.

However, her head started feeling a bit woozy after a 
while. "I need to lie down," she said.

"Be my guest," he replied, and helped her stretch out on 
the bed, then gave her a light kiss. It was almost like 
kissing a child goodnight; but it sent a tremendous 
erotic charge through her.

Slipping off his shoes, the man lay down beside Becky 
and began kissing her, one hand caressing her tits, the 
other wandering down to her shorts. Becky blushed when 
she saw him smile at the discovery that the crotch of 
her shorts was damp.

"I think you'd be more comfortable out of those 
clothes," he suggested softly; and Becky felt powerless 
to do anything but nod. So he quickly unfastened her 
top, letting her firm young breasts bounce free. He 
spent a few moments kissing, licking and sucking each 
erect nipple; then he patted her bottom.

"Lift your bum up," he said; and Becky giggled, thinking 
that sounded so much nicer than telling her to move her 
ass. Raising herself up, she let him peel off her damp 
shorts and wet knickers.

For a few moments, he did nothing but look at Becky: her 
lovely tanned body, her wet, waiting pussy, her 
beautiful blue eyes, filled with desire. Then he kissed 
her again, thoroughly and wetly, before moving his mouth 
back to her nipples. His hand began playing with her 
pussy.

On the few occasions that boyfriends had bothered to do 
this for her, they'd been clumsy and ineffectual; but 
this man seemed to know, even better than herself, what 
turned her on. He rubbed his finger along the insides of 
her wet lips; flicked a fingertip over the little button 
of her clit; worked a finger into her soaking hole, 
teasing and tickling the most sensitive parts of her 
pussy-wall, some of which she hadn't even been aware of.

After a few minutes of this, Becky began writhing and 
trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps. When the 
orgasm came, it was the biggest she'd ever known, and 
she completely blanked out for a few seconds.

When she was aware of her surroundings again, Becky 
realised that her lover, too, had undressed. His body 
showed no sign of middle-age; and the stiff cock that 
stood up to greet her made her gasp. Not that it was 
bigger than others she'd encountered, though it was a 
fair size; but something about it told her deliciously 
that this was a man's cock, not a boy's.

Used to what was expected, Becky put out one hand to 
take hold of the erect shaft; but he put a hand on hers. 
"Looking at your gorgeous, naked body's all I need to 
keep me excited," he said softly. "It's going to get 
loved till it can't take any more."

Becky felt slightly disappointed: she loved to give 
head, and watch the effects of what she was doing to her 
lover. But, within a very short time, she'd forgotten 
all about that. Giving each of her nipples one more 
kiss, he began to move his mouth down her body, over her 
belly and her mound, until he was kissing and licking at 
her pussy. His tongue sent shudders all through her 
aroused body as it flickered over her clit, then pushed 
into her hole. His fingers continued their work, 
occasionally slipping round to play with the little 
rosebud between her buttocks, though he stopped short of 
pushing fingers into her arse.

Becky had only come down a little way from her last 
orgasm; and soon her body was bucking uncontrollably, as 
she came hard again. Hardly had the orgasm finished, 
before he turned over to lie on top of Becky, though 
holding his weight off her, and positioned the head of 
his cock against her soaking pussy. Her mind was telling 
her that this probably wasn't a good idea; but her pussy 
was thinking for her, and she simply opened her legs 
wider and raised them a little, opening up the hole for 
him.

He pushed into her, a bit at a time, letting perhaps an 
inch at a time slide further between the soft, wet walls 
of her pussy-hole, rubbing different places in different 
ways each time, allowing each part to adjust to his cock 
before he stretched some more. When it was finally all 
the way in, he began thrusting in and out, moving a 
little side-to-side as well, so that the big shaft 
filling her pussy rubbed on all parts of it in 
unpredictable ways. Becky's pussy sucked and squelched, 
her muscles trying to pull him further in.

Her previous orgasm hadn't really finished, and she 
started coming again very early on. But, this time, it 
didn't subside, just went on and on, until Becky hardly 
knew what was happening, who she was, who was fucking. 
She wasn't even fully aware of being fucked; only the 
ecstasy that seemed to have completely replaced her 
body. She was limp, flopping about on the end of his 
cock like a rag-doll; but a rag-doll programmed for 
continuous orgasm.

At last, Becky was vaguely aware that the shaft pumping 
in and out was throbbing; then spurts of warm come began 
hitting her cervix, filling her pussy with his semen. 
She went into convulsions, hitting a peak even higher 
than the state of orgasm she'd been in all through the 
fuck.

The next thing she was aware of, she was lying in his 
arms, drenched in sweat, his cock still buried to the 
hilt in her, and she was unsure whether she wanted to 
cry or laugh hysterically. It didn't matter: she was too 
weak to do either. He was kissing her, and she thought 
he was saying something, too; but everything was coming 
and going too much for her to concentrate. It didn't 
matter: the only thing that mattered was that she was in 
his arms, feeling utterly safe and loved.

As Becky slipped into delicious, golden sleep, the last 
thing she heard was her lover whispering, "Sleep well, 
sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up."

THE END

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This 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 14