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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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On The Banks Of The Ohio
by Peter Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)
***
Memories, both fond and otherwise, can be recalled by
the least expected of external stimuli. A snatch of
conversation, the scent of a Spring blossom, a few bars
of a tune long since in vogue. Many things. (Mf, ped,
1st, mast, rom)
***
So it was last week whilst queued-up in suffocating
heat, waiting to board the Chunnel train back to
Britain, that my glance fell upon one of the uniformed
young women, directing cars aboard the upper deck of
the lead carriage.
Admiring her quite obviously youthful figure as we
inched our way along the platform, I had almost drawn
level with her, when she turned towards me, holding up
one hand to indicate we should stop, before they
commenced loading the lower deck. No more than six feet
from me now, it was all I could do to suppress a cry of
disbelief. The same cheeky face, shoulder-length blonde
hair and fine yet quite prominent eyebrows. Even with
the realization that it wasn't her, my mind
nevertheless replayed scenes from that hot summer
interlude not so many years ago.
Having by necessity to attend a business seminar in
Cincinatti mid July that year and with a week or so to
kill before flying on to join a marketing delegation in
New York, I decided to "discover" Ohio, heading east
along Interstate 52 in the general direction of
Portsmouth then north to Columbus and east to
Youngstown via Pittsburgh PV. The plan was good, the
reality something else.
Just twenty miles out from Cincinnati, New Richmond
typifies small-town America. The quaintest of villages
and with a population just pre the new millennium, of
barely 2200 people including just five permanently
stationed Police officers, lets just say that rush-hour
had yet to prove an issue.
Peckish, having passed-up on breakfast, I decided this
was as good a spot as any to indulge my stomach lining.
Pulling off the Interstate that runs pretty much
through the town center, I cruised a couple of side-
streets until a cute little eatery called "The Landing"
took my fancy on Front Street.
Devoid of customers, I had the pick of the table
settings and chose one set in to a small niche near the
panoramic window that overlooked Front Street itself.
Clean and bright, "The Landing" was quite obviously a
family business to judge by the many framed photographs
around the wall. I was studying one that might well
have been the building itself at the turn of the
century, when a glass and jug of iced water were set
down in front of me, by the most appealing of young
ladies.
"Can I get you something?" she smiled sweetly, those
finely shaped dark eyebrows suggesting that perhaps the
shoulder-length, rather pretty blonde hair was not her
natural birthright, not that this could ever have
detracted from the overall package you understand. The
only thing I wanted her to get me right that second was
a room we might share across the way at the small
cottage that I noted was advertising itself as a bed
and breakfast stop-over. I noticed the name-tag just
above the curve of her right breast. What I would have
given to be that pin!
"Well Amy," I said, "A plate of hotcakes and coffee
might just about hit the spot."
She scribbled the order down on her pad and handed me
another of those smiles that all but closed down my
options for thinking straight. "Sure," she added,
turning on her heels and thereby presenting me with a
highly therapeutic aspect of her shapely little bottom,
covered that it was unfortunately, by a tight skirt
whose hemline one imagines, might in later years,
dredge-up more victims than a Venus fly trap!
In her absence, I glanced once more at the many prints
on display on the far wall also. One in particular
stood out. Quite obviously a very recent picture of Amy
herself, the girl slumped prettily in the chair, her
legs draped over one arm. Dressed in her school
uniform, the pose bridged the gap between innocence and
provocative tease quite effortlessly. The top few
buttons of her plain white blouse were undone allowing
the material to gape slightly - if not suggestively
then interestingly at least.
The close proximity of her delicate fingers handed one
the impression that given the right script, she might
be persuaded to undo a couple more. The tease-factor
was heightened further in as much as her black and
white check skirt exposed a sufficiency of the
underside of both slim legs at that angle, so that in
normal circumstances her panties would have been
acutely visible, were not it for the winter cotton
leggings she was wearing in the photo and which left
the viewer simply to contemplate what might have been.
Shoe-less and with one leg resting demurely across the
other, she was an angel.
I was still pondering that which was hidden when my
hotcakes made an appearance.
"Maple syrup?" she asked politely, proffering the easy-
pour container on the tray she was holding.
"Oh yeah!" I replied. "What would hotcakes be without
maple syrup?"
"You're not American are you?" she drawled. "Kind of a
cute accent though...are you English?"
"Sorta," I answered, more than happy to engage her in
whatever conversation was on offer. "Australian
actually Amy - well, I was born in Britain but have
lived in Sydney, Australia since I was eighteen."
Right at that moment another family walked in, totally
icing the momentum and sat down at the table opposite.
I had the impression Amy's preference was to stay and
chat, though she muttered dutifully, "I'd better go get
those people a menu." I could have watched that curvy
retreat until those hotcakes were stone cold!
The arrival of my coffee presented one last small
window of opportunity. Gazing outside, I made the
comment that I might take a stroll down to the Ohio
river and check out the scenery, it appearing to be
little more than a shortish walk from the restaurant
itself.
"Rivers up again," she said, following my glance and
looking quite concerned. "Flooded so bad last year -
way up Front street, she gestured up towards Quarry
Street and the Interstate. "Its soo beautiful though,"
she added as an afterthought, "There's this real neat
lookout just a-ways upriver - you can see for miles
across the Kentucky flatlands."
So pretty was she at that moment, my heart ached for
her and I yearned to hold her to me, fully oblivious to
the chronic age-difference and the fact that she was
probably no more than a few years older than my
youngest daughter.
"I'd really like to see it Amy," I told her, "But I
really don't have the time to go looking. Maybe next
time I'm through this way?" Even as I spoke the words I
felt their emptiness. Reality dictated that I would in
all probability, never set foot in New Richmond again.
For the merest fraction of a second, she looked at
me... deep inside.
"I'm off at twelve," she whispered, "I could show you!"
Hardly able to believe what she was saying, I must have
looked like a tongue-tied juvenile. I glanced at my
watch - it was already 10.50. "I'd be honored sweetie,"
I replied. "Want me to pick you up curbside?" She
nodded just as a slightly embittered male voice called
out "You gonna take our order Miss or what?" Obviously
embarrassed, she left the table.
By the time I finished my coffee and settled-up the
bill including a healthy tip, there was but fifty
minutes or so to account for. I figured I would go fill
up the rental car and check out a few of the shops
along Main Street.
Even as I pulled the Pontiac over, right outside "The
Landing," Amy had stepped out on to the sidewalk and
was walking to the car. I leaned across and opened the
passenger door. Sliding onto the bench seat in that
ultra-short skirt did wonders for the visuals. I don't
think she even realised. Having changed into smart
casual clothes, she was a total teenage dream. Whatever
delicate scent that was also, merely heightened the
overall effect. Thank God I had taken out full travel
health insurance.
"So, which way sweetheart?" I asked, forcing my eyes
back on the roadway as opposed to allowing them their
natural inclination of focusing at key points along
those wonderfully slim legs.
"Ohh, back that way," she exclaimed, pointing east
along Front Street. I performed a quick u-turn, which
in the total absence of any traffic was anything but a
challenge.
"How old are you Amy?" I asked, trying not to make it
sound overly intrusive.
"I've just turned sixteen," she barely whispered, but
then blushing momentarily as I glanced across at her,
"I hope you don't think I make a habit of doing this
er..."
"Noel," I smiled. "And no, I'm sure you don't Amy. I
would like to ask you just one question though if I
may."
"What's that?" she replied softly.
"I'm just curious why you decided to make that offer to
me sweetie? You're very young and it's taking a big
risk. I'm sure your parents would not approve."
Now she really was blushing. "I don't honestly know,"
she muttered. "Something about you. I knew I'd be safe
and I just wanted to take you there and show you the
river."
I smiled at her once again. "Well your instincts serve
you well Amy. Yes you are safe - well unless I stop
taking my medication that is!" She giggled
delightfully.
"To be honest," I continued, I have three lovely
daughters at home just like you sweetheart. One twelve,
another thirteen and the eldest just about your age.
She's in tenth grade, same as you I'm guessing?"
Amy nodded, before asking, "No boys?"
"Yep, one of them too," I grinned. "Chris is the
eldest. He's eighteen and just finished High School. We
were now at the end of Front street and crossing over
to Susanna Way.
"We follow this road right to the end," she announced,
"Then I'll show you where the lookout is."
"Sounds good," I replied, easing my foot off the gas.
It's remarkably easy to hit fifty on an empty straight
road. Well as it happened, Amy really didn't have to
direct me to the lookout at all, since Susanna Way
comes to an abrupt end before veering north into
Augustus Street. Right at that point a spur road leads
south almost to the river's edge. To the right a rather
attractive lookout has been built up in a lightly treed
area which obviously affords welcome relief mid-summer.
Nosing-in to the deserted parking area, I killed the
motor. I could see why she had brought me here.
The sun glinted off the Ohio, and beyond as Amy had
said, the gentle Kentucky plains stretched as far as
the eye could see. A gentle heat-haze wavered
marginally above ground level, imperceptibly distorting
one's vision of the flatlands the far side of the
river. One or two private boats were navigating their
way east, adding to the scenic tranquility.
"Its very beautiful here Amy," I muttered, knowing that
this was an understatement of some magnitude. She
looked across at me and with no reason for doing so - I
held out my hand to her. Having equally no reason to
take it, she grasped my hand softly and I pulled her to
me.
Words became superfluous, the age difference merely a
statistic. I had always been going to kiss her, right
from the moment I walked into that restaurant. I think
I knew it even then. The moment our lips met I knew I
was safe. Shielded from the harshness and cruelties
that life deals out, Amy was sanctuary. She may have
been only sixteen, but it was I felt the child. She
returned my kisses with a gentle passion all her own,
held me tightly and murmured softly as I ran my fingers
through her hair whilst caressing her gently as might
the unselfish lover.
Hot morning that it was, her warmth infiltrated my
whole being. I needed her and wanted her above all
things but this I knew had to be on her terms only.
Simply holding and kissing her was an experience to
savor, a privilege to appreciate, the rarest of check-
points in the game of life itself. Just for a moment
she broke off from kissing me and looked up, her eyes -
part promising, part pleading... wholly needful.
My left hand closed around her small yet incredibly
soft and yielding breast. Immediately her eyes glazed
over and she let out an involuntary cry of surprise. I
kissed once more that delicate little open mouth
through which breath so fresh was issuing, in time with
her increased respiratory rate. For several moments I
continued fondling her gently, knowing full well she
had never done this before and that some facet of her
biological clock had told her that today was her day of
learning.
Easing my hand across to her other breast, I began
manipulating the nipple through the thin cotton top she
had on. Whether she realised it or not I could detect a
slight forward thrusting of both breasts as she became
more at ease with my ministrations. The occasional
whimper of pleasure was beginning to escape her lips
and at the point I began undoing the top few buttons of
her blouse, she merely lay back against the seat,
watching my progress as one might observe a spider
weaving its artistry.
Inclining my head towards her now fully exposed bra
cups, I kissed the softness beneath, aware of the sharp
intake of breath as she became aware, probably for the
first time, the power inherent in her feminine
birthright. She was just so beautiful. Kissing her once
more on the lips, I allowed my hand to slip inside her
bra, feeling its exquisitely designed contents and
deliberately passing my fingers across her nipple. Her
eyes opened wide, but she made no attempt to restrict
my exploration - even when I slipped my hand inside the
other cup, gently manipulating that delicate bud
between my thumb and forefinger.
That she was small, even by mid-teenage standards was
nothing but an added attraction for me. Maintaining
steady eye contact with her, which I sensed was
reinforcing both her trust and my unspoken intentions
to cause her no discomfort - real or metaphysical, I
eased both shoulder straps down her arms, gently
lowering the silky material until both curvy little
breasts were fully exposed. Momentarily she looked so
vulnerable. I admired her brave resolve in a situation
quite obviously foreign to her and one that a very
young girl has no real control of.
I was mesmerised myself. Those wonderfully sculptured
mounds of youthful femininity lay proudly displayed
before me. Leaning forwards, I kissed her right breast
softly, as with my free hand I caressed her the other
side. It was at the point my lips drew down on her
nipple that first time that I felt, rather than heard,
her whimper softly. Raising her arms she held me to
her, as I suckled her nipples one after the other. Her
eyes closed now, she thrust her breasts out proudly,
imploring me to suck harder which as it just so
happened, dove-tailed with my own agenda.
How long we engaged in that wonderful closeness I
couldn't say, but inevitably, desire and accumulated
hormonal back-up opened the flood-gates. Still sucking
gently on her nipples as she lay back against the seat
smiling dreamily, my hand sought the warmth of a quite
different locale. Sliding the hemline of her skirt up
beyond the realms of modesty, I slipped my hand between
her legs feeling the softness of her inner thighs and
the latent heat that resided there. Amy gave a cry of
probable genuine girlish shock and murmured "Nooo, not
there please... I'm still a virgin."
Her words however were fully contradicted by her body
language which saw her part her legs marginally and she
begin to kiss me with what I could only describe as an
increased passion. Again, my hand sought refuge in that
reclusive tunnel and at the point the tips of my
fingers reached the front of her panties, she began to
breathe hard. Rubbing her there softly she began to
moan, needing me to kiss her harder and quite obviously
requiring my complicity in whatever was to follow.
Seemingly acclimatized to sitting there topless now,
she even whispered softly "Do you really think I'm
pretty?" It was as dumb a question as ever I have been
asked.
"I doubt there is a prettier or more desirable girl on
this planet right this second sweetheart," I assured
her. It was the undoubted truth.
Beginning now to rub her the full length of her pussy,
albeit through those skimpy little white-lace knickers
that were even now peeking out from beneath her rumpled
skirt, Amy's soft cries of pleasure were escalating.
There was only one option indicated.
Slipping a finger up beneath the elastic I discovered a
warm and well-furred terrain that curved down and
inwards to an ingress of near volcanic heat that on
approach, caused its owner to wriggle perceptibly while
whimpering in what may have been semi-embarrassed
pleasure. I certainly wasn't embarrassed!
"No one's ever done this to me," she whispered between
little gasps. I already suspected as much but was
pleased beyond measure to hear her confirmation of
such. Incredibly tight as you might imagine, I was only
able to get a finger inside her with due patience and
diligence. It was worth it though. I couldn't rightly
say how pleasurable it was for her but from my
perspective it was at the upper end of Nirvana.
When fingering a young girl of existing virginal
status, there is a fine line indeed between pain and
pleasure - your pleasure, her pain!. It is very
important to ensure that she is as relaxed as possible
and that you treat her nether regions as you might a
Ming vase - with respect and gentility.
Amy as it turned out was a Grade A student. Shy and
giggly - unrelentingly sexy attributes, both! The
further inwards I delved with my finger the louder her
gasps and the wider she spread those slender legs of
hers. Thinking to round off the lesson for the day, I
located her clitoral hood and set up a vibratory
pattern there-upon that had her fully unable to sit
still. I had almost forgotten, such was my concerted
application, the degree of arousal such activity was
bequeathing my own procreative equipment.
"Oh gosh," she moaned delightfully as the first of
several pre-orgasmic tremors radiated outwards from
vaginal ground zero. Her expression right then was that
of a sexy young schoolgirl caught using the library's
computer to partake of some illicit chat with her
boyfriend. I could ill-afford to slacken of my
ministrations and thus I began to kiss her hard on the
lips at the same time increasing the pressure on her
quite obviously engorged clitoris.
I could feel the quake building and as she neared what
I knew must be her first full-on orgasm at the behest
of any male partner's fingers, I felt her legs closing
up on auto-pilot. I took her to the edge - nature
dragged her over!
If there is anything sexier than a young girl locked-in
to a doozy of an orgasm then I have no idea what it is.
In Amy's case, it was to die for. Fully incapable of
rational dialogue, all she could muster was a series of
'Ohhhhs" as wave after wave of coalesced pleasure
wracked her slim frame. Watching as she slid a hand
down between her own legs lending merely some token
comfort to her abused little slit was simply icing on
the cake.
Gradually she opened her pretty eyes. Flushed silly,
but feeling I imagine extraordinarily healthy, she
smiled up at me. "I can't believe I just let you do
that... but it felt so good," she giggled, pulling her
bra straps back up and wriggling her skirt down to her
knees as she spoke. There is something just so
inherently arousing observing a girl do that, most
especially a teenager.
It was about that moment I remembered that I had needs
of my own and watching what I just had, hardly
qualified as a pacifier. With no particular expectation
of reactivating the magic, I just pulled her to me once
again and telling her truthfully just how beautiful she
was, kissed her with all the passion that I possessed.
It was different this time - more a sense of urgency
from her viewpoint. The harder I kissed her the tighter
she wrapped her arms around my neck. Our words and
intimacies became more subtle - less believable, but Oh
how wonderful it was. Could I have known her long
enough to actually love her? It didn't matter, I
whispered it aloud as I drank in her youth, her
warmth...the whole essence of her being. For her part,
she clung to me, not as a father-daughter might, not as
a newly come-by lover should, but as only conjoined
souls are able - on that empirical level that embraces
awareness and inseparable affection.
I don't even remember her kneeling in front of me - my
back now to the seat. I have no recollection of sliding
her panties down and her then straddling my hips with
her own. I knew my hands were caressing her soft and
pliant young bottom and that she was somehow urging me
on to greater daring. Vaguely I was aware that she had
pulled her bra up once again, freeing up both almost
child-like breasts that now she was encouraging me to
suckle erotically as I took such delight in the rest of
her body.
"Be gentle" I heard her whimper as my erection pressed
unerringly up between her legs. Had I asked this of
her? Had this day been planned in cosmic realms
unknown, eons ago? Now was not the time to ponder the
mysteries of life however and kissing her passionately
I left it to Amy to guide me in to the promised land. I
felt her lips separating, the moisture on site and the
tightest of channels barring my way. I'm sure she was
crying softly whilst bearing down with her own hips,
though I could no more contribute to her pain than I
could withdraw from this field of dreams.
My only tools of trade - compliant lips and soothing
words of affection were but a poor man's anaesthesia
yet she braved the worst of it for me with no audible
complaint. One last thrust downwards as I winced for
her and then I felt all hymenal resistance fade and I
was able to slip deep inside her. This was a new world
order, one that I was no more in control of than she
was. All I knew - I desired her more than any girl
before her. Yet this desire curiously, I knew was
founded purely on love not lust.
As my own needs escalated in direct proportion to my
deepening penetration of that semi-exposed cavern
between her legs, I began to thrust up into her, even
as she started to whimper aloud for me to cum inside
her so that she might feel it. I gave no thought as to
the possible consequences, merely fulfilling my sexual
capacity in the best interests of Mother Nature.
Holding her hips tightly, I spurted all I had to give,
probably more - deep inside her vaginal corridor. Even
as I pumped in those last few stragglers, the glow
which spread across her face rendered all words
obsolete.
Afterwards she just lay against me, wanting me to
caress her hair and cheeks. She let me pull her panties
back up, which served also to stem the tide of semen
trickling down the inside of her thighs. It was all so
ethereal and left-field of the real-time somehow.
We sat cuddled-up in that car for several hours
watching life slip-by peacefully on the Ohio. I think I
kissed her insensible. Eventually she told me she had
to be back at 6 p.m. for her evening shift. I couldn't
bear it, but of course I had to drop her off.
The tears were still in free-fall even as I made the
outskirts of Columbus that night.
(c) Peter_Pan 2006
"Imagine For a Moment" www.lulu.com/content/69187
"The Complete Harper Valley"
www.lulu.com/content/106537
Look forward to seeing you also at "The World of
Peter_Pan" website:
http://www.geocities.com/worldofpeter_pan/intro.html
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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 46