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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2005. Please
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Linnie's Spider
by Johnnycake (johnnycake3110@hotmail.com)
***
A man helps a 13-year-old neighbor girl out of an
especially frightening situation when her parents are
away and he finds himself accidentally (?) comforting
her in an erotic way. (M/f-teen, ped, voy, mast)
***
I had known Linnie, 13 at the time of this incident,
since she was six and her parents moved next door to my
wife and me. She was an only child and quickly adopted
us as Uncle Johnny and Aunt Edy. During that seven
years, Edy and I had watched her grow into a beautiful
young woman. She was intelligent and athletic and
popular at school and, by all accounts, a good girl.
She also was beautiful and alluring in a wide-eyed
innocent, uninhibited way.
Although what happened between Linnie and me on that
August afternoon in 1985 (when I was 40) didn't exactly
amount to sex, it was the most sexually erotic event of
my life and I have relived it many, many times in my
mind ... each time playing out various "what-if"
scenarios.
The prelude to the incident occurred on a Friday. That
was the day I drove Linnie's parents to the airport,
about an hour away from our homes, at the start of
their week-long business trip. Linnie, who came along
for the ride, was only going to be alone for one night
because her dad's sister, Sallyl, was scheduled to
arrive on Saturday to babysit.
On the way home from the airport, with Linnie sitting
in the passenger seat, she turned on the radio to her
favorite station, and we alternately chatted and rode
in silence; ours had always been a very easy, natural
relationship. I was, after all, her beloved "Uncle"
Johnny. In the car, she fidgeted a little in her seat
during the trip and, in the process, her short little
lightweight skirt did some intriguing gymnastics
against her tanned young thighs.
I succeeded in ignoring the activities of her skirt and
thighs for a while, keeping my eyes basically on the
road, until she leaned back into the wedge formed by
the seatback and the passenger-side door -- and adopted
an immodest cross-legged position. The position,
coupled with the fact that her skirt had ridden up
considerably displayed the crotch of her pale blue
panties. I noticed. She noticed me noticing.
She giggled and made a casual attempt to cover herself.
The attempt wasn't too successful, and she giggled
again. It didn't seem to bother her that her underwear
was showing. She knew I had seen her in bikini bathing
suits many times over the years.
Giggle. "Oops. Sorry."
"It's okay."
"These are new. Mom bought them yesterday." Linnie
lifted the hem of her skirt and displayed the entire
front of her panties. I glanced over, let my eyes
linger for a polite second or two, then turned back to
the road. "You like?"
I swallowed, not sure I could speak around the lump in
my throat. "Absolutely," I croaked. "What are those?
Little..."
"...Dolphins," she said.
Although I was watching the road, my mind's eye was
still focused on the pale fabric covering the innocent
13-year-old crotch beside me. Within easy arm's reach.
No, you asshole, I reproached myself for what I was
thinking. Not in a million years.
"Cute, hon," I said with a hopefully parental smile,
trying to sound clinical and disinterested.
"She got me a yellow pair and a pink pair, too. They're
at home. You know what else? A bra to match. Three
bras. I've got the blue one on."
Although this was way more information than I needed, I
was soaking up every word, clinging to a hope for more.
And got it.
"Here. See?"
She had undone two buttons of her blouse and peeled it
back just enough to expose the cups of her new bra.
More dolphins. Part of me was pleased she was
comfortable showing Uncle Johnny her underthings. Most
of me, however, was excited by viewing a young woman's
intimate parts.
From that point until we arrived at our houses,
Linnie's chatter continued as if the peep show had not
occurred. For me, however, the show was etched into my
brain forever.
At about 9 a.m. the next day, I took a phone call from
Linnie's dad. When I heard Tim's voice, my heart
stopped for several seconds: Had Linnie told them about
what happened on the drive from the airport? But no,
Tim called to ask me to go next door and remove a
spider from Linnie's neck.
"A what?"
"Spider. She called us this morning, and I guess
there's a spider stuck on the back of her neck and she
can't get it off. Hell, I don't know. Would you just go
over and check it out? Sally'll be there by tonight and
she can take over."
"Sure," I said, not understanding the spider thing at
all. "I'll go right over."
I left a note for Edy, who already had left to go
shopping, and walked over to Linnie's house, knocked on
the back door, and let myself in.
"Hey," I hallooed. "Lin."
"Up here."
I followed the sound of her voice and made my way up
the stairs.
"Where?" I said from the top of the stairs.
"Here."
I went to the upstairs bathroom and looked in. The
light was on and Linnie was standing there looking
frightened. She was wearing a different skirt and a
tank top.
"I'm sorry, Uncle Johnny. I just hate these things and
it's stuck on me." Her hands were pressing her abdomen.
"It's okay, honey. Let me see." Brave Uncle Johnny was
on the scene now. I was expecting to examine the back
of her neck.
"No. It's not there. I, well, I kind of lied to Daddy."
"Oh." I looked into her eyes. I hoped the look was kind
and understanding. "Well, let's..."
"It's not a spider. It's a tick."
"Oh, okay. I do ticks, too." I was trying to be
comforting. Having owned dogs and having lived in tick
country for many years, I was accustomed to removing
the little critters from dogs AND humans. "Let's look."
"And it isn't on my neck. I was afraid if I told Daddy
the truth, he wouldn't let you come take it off."
"Oh." My mind raced.
"It's under my, my underwear."
Oh. My. God. I swallowed. "Well, hey, I know. Let me
call Aunt Edy and she..."
"Please, Uncle Johnny, can't you just get rid of it
right now? It's giving me the creeps and I'm trying not
to freak out."
The huge sigh I heard was mine.
"Okay. Well, maybe you should lie down then?" I guided
her into her bedroom and watched as she lay on her twin
bed adorned with a Hello Kitty comforter.
I was feeling extremely weird. And lecherous. And
excited. And I was trying to be Uncle Johnny, MD.
Linnie folded her hands under her breasts and stared at
the ceiling while I proceeded.
I knelt beside the bed and lifted the hem of her skirt.
"Is it in front?" I asked, aware that my voice sounded
thready.
"Uh-huh."
Great, I thought. Well, her daddy said it was okay. Of
course, her daddy thinks it's a spider on her neck, not
a tick under her panties.
When the hem had cleared the elastic waistband of her
panties – pink with dolphins today – I patted the
skirt, now bunched around her waist, as if bidding it
to stay put. As I placed my fingers on the elastic of
her panties, I said, "I'm just gonna slip these down a
little. Okay?"
Linnie nodded.
Slowly, I slid the panties down a ways, hoping the tick
was just below the waistband. But no luck. I pulled the
garment down further, further, further, until I had
exposed a beautiful triangular patch of soft, smooth
13-year-old pubic hair at her crotch. And there was the
tick, at practically the center of the triangle.
I lowered my head to inspect the tick. It took all my
concentration to remember that I wasn't here to get
turned on by what I was seeing and doing. My nose was
treated to the delightfully pungent scent of young
womanhood.
"Sugar, I need to get closer and touch it to see what's
going on. Is that okay?"
Linnie nodded at the ceiling.
I slid my fingers carefully through golden silk and
touched the tick. It's head was imbedded in Linnie's
flesh – which is what ticks do – but it didn't seem to
have been there very long. I could tell that because it
hadn't yet become swollen with Linnie's blood. Still,
it would require a tick-removal procedure involving
Vaseline and tweezers.
"Be right back, sweetie," I said, pulling her panties
back up and lowering her skirt. I went to the bathroom,
rummaged around, and found a jar of Vaseline, a pair of
tweezers, and a tube of antibiotic. The purpose of a
coating of Vaseline is to suffocate the tick, forcing
it to release it's "hold" on its prey. Ticks breathe
through their bodies, enabling them to bury their heads
in their victims. Once they release their hold, ticks
can be easily removed with tweezers or, sometimes, with
fingers. To pull a tick out without first forcing it to
release risks leaving the tick's head in the victim,
which could lead to serious infection.
Once back in Linnie's bedroom, I knelt beside her
again, lifting her skirt and lowering her panties. I
imagined her wearing the pink bra to match.
"Lin, I'm gonna put some of this." I showed her the jar
– "on Mr. Tick, and then wait a few seconds and then
take him out. I'm gonna have to touch you there,
though. Is that okay?"
"Uh-huh. Please, I just want it gone."
I inserted my forefinger into the jar and came up with
a small dollop of Vaseline. My evil twin allowed my
pinky to gather a little of the jelly-like substance,
too. With fingers of both hands, I parted Linnie's
fleece and gently placed the dollop onto the tick,
making sure I covered its tiny body thoroughly. In the
process, it was my un-uncle-like delight to touch the
tender, intimate area which the fleece covered. And I
allowed my Vaseline coated pinky to seek out and come
to rest against the top of Linnie's vaginal slit, as if
by accident.
This action brought about a mild reaction from Linnie.
She might have raised her hips slightly to meet my
pinky's touch, or to increase the pressure against it.
Or was it my imagination? I left my pinky where it was,
resting against the top of her vagina. Was it my
imagination that I pressed it slightly more firmly
against her slit? What was NOT my imagination was the
increase in the scent of her womanhood that was making
its way into my nostrils.
Removing the tick was simple. I placed my face three or
four inches from the area – all the better to see the
tick, of course – parted Linnie's pubic fleece, made
sure no hair would be pulled by the tweezers, grasped
the tick's body with the tweezers, and tugged. Linnie
jerked at the tug, but the tick, head and all, was out.
"It, it's gone?"
"Yes, hon. All gone." I wrapped the tick's body in
tissue for disposal later. "You okay?"
"I'm, yes, I'm..." Linnie surprised me then by grasping
my hand and pressing my palm against the area where the
tick had been, allowing my fingers to overlap onto the
lips of her vagina. "Stay there for a minute? It feels
good when you're there." She kept up the pressure
against my fingers and palm.
"Maybe we should put some ointment on you, Lin." The
tips of my fingers were becoming wet from the lush
moisture seeping from her slit.
"In a minute, okay?" She adjusted the position of my
hand so more of my fingers extended into her slit. She
was very wet and very open.
"Linnie..." I knew this was wrong.
"Stay please... I... please."
I stayed. She was holding my hand in place – with
nearly half the length of two of my fingers in her
vagina – and she was raising and lowering her hips in a
universal rhythm.
"Uncle Johnny... do you know...?" Her eyes locked with
mine.
I sighed heavily. "I know, sweetheart."
With her free hand, Linnie desperately, frantically
pushed her tank top up and then pushed her bra cups up
and began caressing first one nipple then the other.
Her look implored me. "Am I bad, Uncle Johnny? Am I
bad?" She reached for my head and pulled it to her
breasts.
In the seconds before my lips found her left nipple, I
said, "No, sugar, you are definitely not bad."
She pressed my head against first one nipple and then
the other, while I kissed them, circled them with my
tongue, and nipped at them with my teeth.
Linnie started squirming in earnest and arched her back
against the pleasures she was receiving.
"I'm so close... I can't help it... is it... okay?"
I smiled. God, I loved that girl. "It's totally okay,"
I said, my words muffled by her right breast. "I'm
here. Go ahead."
And she did. Her orgasm shuddered through her and she
squirmed and arched and squealed and cried out in
pleasure. Afterward, I slipped onto the narrow bed
beside her and we held each other for quite a while,
eventually drifting off to sleep.
Linnie and I agreed that we could never ever, ever,
ever tell anyone about this. We never mentioned it to
each other again and never did anything like it again,
either. I have, however, longed for another Linnie in
my life ever since that morning more than 20 years ago.
END
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. 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 prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 35