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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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Samantha and Brian
by Brian Foster (address withheld)
***
A budding pedophile is in charge of babysitting
Samantha a precocious 9 year-old, while all the adults
are busy elsewhere. (M-teen/g, ped, youths, 1st)
***
One evening I happened to overhear an interesting
discussion. Neil and Suzanne are good friends of our
family, and live within walking distance. They have
three kids, Tony, Christine, and Samantha, their
oldest, aged 8. The conversation centered around
Samantha's 9th birthday, which fell on that Saturday.
On Monday her parents had to go to a business
conference for a few days.
'Uh oh...' My hair stood on end. Oh no, they hadn't,
they couldn't, they mustn't...
They had.
It was her holidays, and my family had just volunteered
to look after her.
They were still working during that time of course, so
that meant... "Oh Brian," came Suzanne's cheerful
voice, "Samantha is coming over here on Monday for a
few days, you won't mind looking after her during the
day, will you?"
I slowly lowered my book, revealing her cherubic
smiling face looking my way.
"She won't take too much of your time, I promise," she
said. She disappeared. So that was settled. Funny that,
I couldn't seem to remember agreeing to baby-sit her,
but I was going to anyway. What the hell do they think
I am?? A sucker. Yes, that must be it. Okay. No more
"Mr. nice guy" from me at times like this! Now let's go
into the lounge and decline the job... Yeah, right...
especially since I was the only person in any position
to do it.
<Sigh>
Sunday evening rolled around, and sooner rather than
later she was here. I'd reached page 372, and was
intently studying the table of derivatives of inverse
trig functions.
Personally, I'd much rather have been out exploring
some filthy weta-ridden muddy cave out at the Waikato
heads or tramping through the bush around Lake
Waikaremoana, but such pleasures would have to wait
till after exams. At least I had 2 hours of weight
training every second night to keep my body as active
as my mind was forced to be right now.
I'm the oldest (22) out of the four kids in our family,
so while our University finals were on the others were
still at school. So peace and quiet reigned supreme,
except for the barely audible boob-tube in the lounge.
A half eaten pizza nearby was doing a vanishing trick.
Tinnies of Lion Red beer were waiting in the fridge
immediately after this chapter. Bliss. Peace on earth.
The door flew open and a giggling, Angelic faced, slim,
newly 9 year old black haired girl invaded my room and
jumped onto my bed, clutching a sheaf of drawings she
was working on.
"Hi, Brian!" she exclaimed.
"Hi Sam, what've you been up to?"
Study forgotten, I entertained her, chatting about the
Camp she was going to next week. She went there last
year too and frequently recalled the swimming pool in
the discussion. It didn't even enter my mind that she
didn't particularly like swimming, she was a gymnastics
girl. That night she slept in the next room, thank
goodness. Next morning I'd struggled to Chapter 7 and
was well on schedule for next week's exam.
Wrong. Foolish thinking; 9am sharp it was invasion time
again. We went to the park and played on the swings and
slides; we got back home and played Cards. She said she
loved the maypole at her school, so I did the next best
thing and took told of her arms to swing her around.
Then I tried it the other way and took hold of her
feet. That way, I did it slowly and not for long since
blood rushes to the head. As I did so, I noticed I
could see all the way up under the shorts, even the
white panties covering her little mound... Dammit, stop
perving, Brian! Jeez, haven't you got anything better
to do? I reminded myself... surely it was approaching
midday. Wahay!
AAARRGHH!!!
It was 10am.
Oh dear. This was going to be a long long loooong day.
"Can we go to McDonalds for Lunch, Brian?"
McDonalds. Images invaded my mind of that fat, stupid
looking clown with his big, plastic, painted on smile,
accompanied by all the artificial Disneyland images
designed to encourage whining, screaming brats to
harass their parents into buying their over priced
garbage. And it WAS expensive.
In the late afternoon I finally got some peace.
"Integration by parts; for every differentiation rule
there is a corresponding Integration..."
"I want to help bring in the washing," she said.
"Thanks Honey, that'd be a great help."
"Integration by parts; for every differentiation rule
there is a..."
"Where's the basket for the clothes?"
I fetched it.
"Integration by parts; for every..."
"Everything's too high, have you got something for me
to stand on?"
I fetched a stool.
Click.. click... click off came the dry clothes from
the line as I studied my calculus.
"Brian, could you lift me up, these are too high for me
to reach?"
Grrrr....
"Sure."
I took hold around her tummy and lifted her up so she
could remove the small stuff from the line. An
inspiration born out of desperation came to mind. I
lifted her higher with one arm around her waist,
unclipped the shoulder straps of the overalls she'd put
on as it cooled in the afternoon, slung them over the
washing line, then reattached them.
She laughed hysterically and started kicking out,
trying to escape but she was hanging there from the
washing line.
Safe. Comfortable. Immobile. And most importantly; out
of my way. I heard the line vibrate as she struggled,
trying to free herself from it and drop to the ground.
Forget it, you ain't getting free, period.
"Brian!" Mother suddenly called out. "What do you think
you're doing!!" She stared in astonishment at me lazing
on a deckchair while Sam struggled to get free from the
washing line.
"Bloody Brian's being mean to meeee!" Samantha cried
out. "Mind your language, young lady," she said as she
detached her from the line and lowered her to the
ground. Sam ran over and hit me on the shoulder.
"That's for tying me up there, you meany."
"That's enough, Samantha. Inside; it's time you had a
bath," Mother said, looking at the grimy arms and legs
from playing in the park. She flashed a look of anger
in my direction as she led Sam inside. No credit for
taking her everywhere. Oh well, I expected no less.
Such is life.
It was my turn to cook dinner, which I did after being
told to kiss and make up to Sam for picking on her. She
giggled and went back to drawing in front of the TV. Oh
well, only another.... THREE days?? Drat! Eventually I
got the peace I wanted and got some serious work done
before Sam's bedtime at 8. It was twilight outside, but
the light in her room was already on and the door was
slightly ajar. Music was playing on the radio in her
room, so I guessed it was safe to enter to tell her it
was time to get ready for bed.
So you can imagine my astonishment when I walked in to
see her lying on the bed, dress lifted above her waist,
her panties beside her, frantically masturbating.
It was an awesome sight, the little fingers rubbing the
tight hairless crack, her eyes closed, concentrating
almost to the exclusion of anything else on what she
was doing.
Transfixed, I could only watch the beautiful sight.
Moments later her eyes opened and she noticed me
watching inside the doorway.
The most incredible look of sheer terror crossed her
face. She pulled down her dress, leapt off the bed and
dashed past before I could stop her then slammed the
toilet door shut behind her.
Luckily the rest of the family were far enough away not
to hear the door slam and Sam bawling her eyes out in
there. Obviously she thought she was going to be in
REAL trouble, and if it had been her parents or mine
that very likely would have been the case.
"Sam, it's okay, you can come out, I'm not going to
tell anyone. I'm sorry I walked in there, I was just
coming to tell you to get ready for bed." Deciding it'd
be better to let her calm down by herself, I left after
making up my mind to chat with her later.
After half an hour she was out and back in her room
again. The light was out and the curtains drawn, but in
the trickle of light from the streetlight outside I
could see she was hiding under the sheets. Sam visibly
tensed when I entered, probably expecting to be told
why she mustn't do things like that. "It's okay
Samantha," I quietly said as I leaned close, without
sitting on her bed. I thought that would have been too
parent-like instead of the person-to-person talk I had
in mind.
"I know you're really embarrassed about being caught,
so I just thought I'd tell you I don't think you were
going anything wrong. Most people do the same thing,
they just won't admit to it of course. It's quite okay
and natural, there's nothing wrong with it.
You'll just have to be a little more careful in future.
Since the door was open and music was playing I thought
it'd be okay to come in. If you'd closed the door I'd
have knocked first and you could've told me not to come
in, but I'm really sorry I caught you at a bad time.
Anyway, try not to let it worry you. I'm not going to
tell anyone, now or ever. I'm not going to ask why you
were doing it, or tease you about it or anything like
that.
Now, try and have a good night, Sam. I'll see you
tomorrow."
"Don't go" she suddenly asked when I turned to leave.
"Okay if I turn the light on?" I asked.
"Yes, it's okay."
She'd uncovered her head when I turned and went to sit
next to her.
"Feeling better now?"
"Did you really mean that, lots of people do it?" "Yes,
most people do. I've heard it said that if someone
claims they don't, you know they're lying," I replied,
grinning.
"Do you?" she pointedly asked.
There was no point in hiding it; this was no time for
false truths or half-lies.
"Yes, I do. It doesn't do any harm, though some people
may say it does. Don't believe them."
"When did you start doing it?" she asked.
"When I was 12. I remember my first orgasm quite well.
I sort of discovered it by accident."
"I started doing it last year. A friend told me how,"
she replied.
She went quiet at this point.
"What do you think about, when you do it?" she asked.
"I think about girls, just like you probably think
about boys."
"Have you ever touched a girl?"
"Have your parents talked with you about these sorts of
things?" "No. Mum just told me what not to do, and told
me to read some books about our bodies from the Library
if I got curious." "Well, it's just that I'm not sure
if I should talk about it since I could get in real
trouble with your parents. I know you're only curious
and there's nothing wrong with that, but I just want to
be careful. Can you talk with your Mum about it?"
"I'm scared to ask."
"I don't think she'll get annoyed if you ask when you
get her alone. In a few years you'll be hearing all
about it from other girls at school, if you aren't
already, so you might as well hear about it properly
from her. She'll probably be pleased you asked, in fact
I'll bet she's just as scared as you are to ask if you
want to talk about it."
"Could you talk to me about it?"
"I don't think I should."
"Please?"
"Well, okay, I can, but it's not for you to repeat to
other kids, because they should hear about it from
their parents, not from you." Where do I start... ummm,
okay.
"Do you know what boys look like without clothes on?"
"Yes, at the Camp last year there was this peephole
between the boys and girls changing rooms that the boys
don't know about. We watched them all the time."
My mouth dropped open. This coming from a barely nine
year old girl. Not that I was so innocent back then,
either.
"There used to be this peephole in my school changing
room too, but the girls knew about it and covered it
with a towel the whole time." "I saw this message on a
toilet at school. It said 'suck my cock'. What does
that mean?"
"Well, 'cock' is another name for his penis." She
thought about this for a few seconds, then suddenly
screwed up her face in disgust.
"Ewwwww.... YUCK!!"
About what I figured she'd think of the concept.
So we chatted for ages about sex. I taught her about
her body, about boy's bodies, what would start to
happen to hers in a few years. Samantha readily agreed
to my suggestion that she get out "The Body Book" at
the Library the next day so we could go through it
together.
When I got back to work, I noticed I kept re-reading
the same pages without anything sinking in... sleep was
calling.
I dreamt a hazy dream about my old school. The playing
field, the corridors, the schoolrooms. Familiar and
not-so-familiar faces flashed into my line of sight in
the usual poorly defined and focused, plotless memory.
Like most of my dreams it was about to shift to another
unconnected memory when the scene suddenly changed.
Looking up, I saw a playhouse, only it was full of
stark naked girls aged from too-young to the 20 year
old dream girls that appear on the (too) rare occasions
sex comes into my dreams. Around me, everyone was
playing and walking between classes, fully clothed and
totally unconcerned about what was happening above.
Shocked, surprised and aroused by the sight, I almost
ran up the ladder to the level the girls were on. I
expected to be told exactly where to go, but they
didn't take any notice of the sole male in their midst.
Quickly I scanned the naked girls milling around me,
and decided to try my luck with a slim girl aged around
12.
I walked up to her, and asked outright if I could give
her a licking. "Sure," she said, and led me by the hand
to a corner of the playhouse where a chair was. She put
one leg up on the chair while I knelt in front of her
and moved close. I could plainly smell the faint odor
of her sex as I homed in, put one hand on the underside
of her raised leg, the other on her hip, and planted my
tongue in her hairless crack... Instantly the dream
faded.
Damn it! I tried to keep it going but failed, and woke
with a raging hard-on. The dream was so vivid that I
could still smell that little girls fanny right in
front of my nose, just like when in a dream you clutch
something and you're sure you've brought it back from
dream world, but of course it turns out you haven't.
It's all very well for dreams to end when they get too
bad to handle, but why do they also have to end when
they get juicy?? Don't you just hate that?
The first job that morning was taking Sam to the
Library and letting her find the books concerned,
rather than face possible funny looks from the
librarian while getting them out myself.
When it came to it she wanted to read them by herself,
which was fine by me. I told her that if she had any
questions, not to be afraid to come and ask me about
them.
The next few hours passed VERY quietly. She was just up
the corridor, but I didn't hear a peep all that time.
Maybe I'd just found the perfect babysitting technique!
Almost silently she entered my room a little later.
"Hi Brian, can I ask you a few questions? You said I
could."
"Yes, I did. Sure, what are they, honey?"
"Is it true, boys can put their... things... into a
girl? That's what the book says."
"Yes, that's how babies are made."
"I can't even fit my finger inside, let alone one of...
those." "Not many girls can until they're about 12, and
even then he has to be really gentle or it can hurt. If
he is, it can feel really nice." She opened one book to
the pages that showed what people look like without
clothes at various ages.
"Which one do you look like?"
"Ummm... the last one," I replied, pointing to the most
developed male figure drawn.
"Can I see it?" she asked.
"You mean, take my clothes off?"
She nodded.
"I know you're only being curious, but I'd get in
really, really, big trouble if people knew I'd done
that."
"I've seen them before, it won't hurt me."
When I was her age, I wanted to see my cousin nude.
Just her, nobody else. Of course I never did, but now I
know that it wouldn't have done me any harm if I had.
Nor would it have done any harm if she'd noticed my
interest and shown her body to me whilst explaining all
about it.
And here was Sam, wanting to do the same thing with me.
Nothing sexual whatsoever, she just wanted to see a
male body. She'd seen naked, unsuspecting, boys and the
drawings, and wanted to see a man's privates closer. I
was worried she might regret it later in life and think
she'd been molested, then figured she wouldn't want me
to unless she was ready. And she obviously knew the
trouble I'd get into if she reported anything.
"Okay, here you go," I finally said to Samantha as I
lay back on the bed, undid my jeans then slid them and
my underpants down a little. Samantha's eyes went wide.
I'd about decided that was enough when unexpectedly her
hand moved over and touched me. She touched my cock and
traced its length, then stopped short of my balls when
she encountered the first pubic hairs. I was hoping
she'd rub my balls but she obviously didn't like the
crinkly, unfamiliar hair. Other than that, Samantha's
confidence shortly increased and she took proper hold
of my cock.
The soft warm hand delicately exploring it and now
wrapped around it was too much. As much as I tried to
avoid it, a hard-on formed. Now I figured she'd
definitely seen her fill, and moved to pull my pants
up. "No, please don't. Is that what the other girls
call a 'hard-on'?"
"Yes it is, it usually happens when a girl touches a
boy." Unexpectedly she got onto the bed next to me then
lifted her dress above her waist to show her white
cottontails. A thin line of untanned skin peeked out
from beneath them, vivid against her tanned legs.
"Do you want me to take my panties down?" she asked.
"I'd like that, but before you do, I want to make sure
you know how to say 'no' to things you don't want."
"I already know how to do that."
"Some boys don't readily take 'no' for an answer when
it comes to this sort of thing. Do you mind if we play
a game first?" "What game?"
"You have to say 'no' to everything I suggest."
A grin crossed her face.
"Okay."
With her hand where it was, it wouldn't be easy
concentrating hard enough to do what I had in mind, but
I really wanted to make sure she knew she didn't have
to.
"Alright. You're friends with a boy, and he wants to
touch you, but you don't want him to. He puts his hand
on your knee. What do you do?" "I push it off." "He
puts it back."
"I push it off, and tell him I don't want to."
"He tells you that if you won't let him, he won't be
friends with you."
"I tell him I don't care."
Good answer. I grinned at that. Let's try something
more difficult. "You're with a group of friends, and
they tell you that if you don't let a certain boy touch
you, they won't be friends with you any more." She
thought about this, then replied.
"No, I won't let him."
"Are you Chicken or something?" I snarled.
"I just don't want to," she replied, refusing to be
intimidated.
"Why not? We've all done it before, what're you afraid
of?"
"Don't push me, or I'll find some friends who'll care
about what I think."
10 out of 10.
"Good. If someone says at your age that they've done
it, they're almost certainly lying, and even if you did
to try and please them, they'd most likely turn around
and call you a slut or something. And if the worst
comes to the worst, you're better off alone than in bad
company." "Now try this one. You're sitting next to a
boy on a bus, and he puts his hand on your knee. What
do you do?"
"I push it off."
"He puts it back."
"I tell him not to."
"He ignores you."
That stumped her, so I dropped a hint.
"Say it again, but louder," I suggested.
"Get your hand off my knee."
"Louder."
"GET YOUR HAND OFF MY KNEE!!"
Wow! If that didn't do the trick if it was tried on
Sam, I didn't know what would. I could imagine a would-
be pervert, startled out of his wits, with all eyes
upon him, jumping out of his seat and getting off at
the next stop.
"Still want me to take these off?" she asked while
fingering the waistband of her panties.
I nodded.
Down they went. Unlike me, she didn't hesitate to
expose her privates. Just as I thought, a triangular
wedge of pure creamy white skin appeared, stark against
the brown of her legs. Briefly she lifted her knees to
her chest to get them off completely, then the panties
were discarded on the floor.
Samantha opened her legs slightly to let me see
everything, then went back to touching me while I gazed
at her most intimate parts. The smooth mound curved
down to an unbelievably delicate looking crack, in the
midst of which I could just see her inner lips tightly
nestled and protected inside.
"You can touch, if you like."
Whilst checking her facial expression and body language
in case she changed her mind, I started rubbing and
feeling all around her lower body, her legs, her tummy,
slowly working my way towards her crack. When after
several minutes I finally got there she gave a low sigh
of appreciation as my finger started rubbing her slit.
We settled down to seriously exploring each other. Her
hand moving up and down my erection, barely touching,
mine rubbing all around her fanny and mound. Things
were getting hotter and hotter.
Neither of us said a word as we touched each other. Sam
slowly gained confidence and began touching my balls,
moving them around, confirming the anatomy in the
books. I took hold of her hand and showed her how to
cup and gently rub them, and squeeze the top of my cock
as her hand passed over it. She was fascinated by the
way it moved and went super hard when she did that.
I pushed her t-shirt up to expose her nipples and the
tiny swellings of baby fat on her chest, then bent down
to kiss them as I continued feeling her down there.
By now it was obvious she wouldn't mind, so with two
fingers I eased her cunt lips open until the tiny bud
of her clitoris and the bright pink inner flesh
appeared. The pink folds curved inward at the base of
her fanny, indicating the way towards her obviously
virginal vagina.
I eased her lips still further open until the opening
of Samantha's vagina was plainly in view, then moved in
for a close examination while rubbing all around her
crack, moving in circles towards the little clitoris
and finally settling on rubbing it with a finger from
one hand and massaging her upper thighs with the other.
When she realized I was doing what she'd started doing
to herself last night, she took her hands off my
privates then relaxed to let me do as I intended.
I paused to pull up my pants then leaned nearer so I
could see everything close-up. Samantha's tight little
crack stared back as I moved into a better position to
pleasure her. She was getting damp, and my finger was
rubbing easier and easier through her fanny lips. I
desperately wanted to kiss and lick here there, and
taste every corner of her dampening cunt.
"My friend told me that a boy kissed her down there,
and she liked it," she suddenly said. "Could you do it
to me?"
"I was just about to ask."
By means of reply, she opened her legs wider. Oh god.
The dream was going to come true. I lifted her legs
further apart and moved into place between them. The
sweaty odor of her fanny filled my nostrils as I kissed
my way up her leg and around her cunt before moving in
for the kill.
With two fingers I eased the lips open again until her
innermost recesses were exposed to my gaze, then
planted a kiss on her clitoris and started licking her
crack from one end to the other. She sighed and started
breathing heavily, which I took to mean that what I was
doing was okay. Whilst rubbing her upper thighs and the
area immediately around her fanny I kept up the work
with my tongue, flicking the little bud of her clitoris
back and forth.
"Is this okay?" I asked after a few minutes.
"It feels nice. Keep going if you want to."
"If you like, I can lick or rub almost anywhere you
want. I can rub your bottom or put my tongue in your
vagina. If you want me to try something, don't be
afraid to ask."
"What you were doing was good," she said.
So I resumed licking her pleasure spot.
When her crack was glistening from one end to the other
with my saliva, I moved one hand up her body till I
found her nipples again, which I started rubbing over
and around with my fingertips. Don't let appearances
deceive you; just because little girls don't have a
bust it doesn't mean their breasts aren't sensitive.
Samantha's nipples went hard, and the remaining tension
in her body vanished as she gave herself to my desire
to pleasure her.
Every now and then I planted my mouth sideways over the
entire length of her now very damp cunt and sucked on
it, tasting increasing amounts of salty vaginal
lubricant each time I did so.
I'd never expected to lick a hairless girl, ever. Oh,
perhaps with a shaven woman, but never a genuinely
underage girl. And here was Samantha, wriggling on the
tip of my tongue as I ate her out like there'd be no
tomorrow. Slowly her crack turned from pink to dull red
as the area engorged with blood from all the
stimulation.
She started shifting around and moaning slightly.
Guessing that she was close to cumming, I lifted her
legs over my shoulders. Their warmth and weight spurned
me on to lick her cunny harder than ever till she came
with a shudder.
Immediately she came, I put her legs back down onto the
bed and moved up to hold her tight, kiss her on the
cheeks, mouth and neck, and thank her for letting me
make her feel good. She responded in kind to my kisses
and hugs. Enthusiasm and lack of experience. hmmmm...
I'd have to teach her the finer points and etiquette of
kissing later on. It would be fun teaching her to kiss
French style with her tongue in my mouth, but questions
might be raised if she tried it on her parents upon
their return... There'd be plenty of time for such
things in the coming days, I knew.
So I put her panties back onto her, then started
massaging her limbs, tummy and head whilst whispering
sweet nothings to her; surrounding her with love and
caring.
Exhausted from the force of her orgasm, she shortly
dozed off. I left her there to sleep while I prepared
afternoon tea for when she woke up, then organized my
work for the afternoon.
Without warning, the first sign she was awake was a
loud <slurp> from the doorway as she tucked into a cold
glass of fruit juice and the choccy bikkies I'd left
next to her bed. Samantha was wearing a two piece
bikini and was carrying a towel. I would have thought
the tiny top was unnecessary at her age, but the little
buttons poking out of her chest said otherwise.
She almost ran outside to leap into our pool while I
went out to soak sun nearby. You could see she'd
already done lots of that this summer. The long slim
smooth legs I was between just a few hours previously
were quite nicely browned.
I checked the temperature in the pool, discovering it
was pleasantly warm. These long hot days lately had
done wonders for the pool temperature, so I leaped in
myself for a cool off and splash around. Before long
she got out, spread a towel on the grass, lay on her
tummy and reached behind to undo the strap of her
bikini top. "Could you rub some lotion on me, Brian?"
she asked. "Mums always telling me I'll get burned if I
don't."
I agreed, took the bottle of sun block and sat next to
her. I squeezed a gob of lotion between her shoulders
and started massaging it in, over her arms, shoulders,
back then carefully over her sides so as not to tickle
her. The chance to give another nice massage wasn't
wasted. Several times she said it felt nice, and asked
me to keep going. Another blob of lotion landed on her
upper legs, making her wince again. I worked it into
her slim but well muscled legs until they were
completely covered.
"Brian?" Sam asked out of the blue.
"Yes?"
"You forgot a bit."
"Where?"
"The top of my legs."
"Ah.. okay..."
I'd scrupulously avoided there so as not to spoil the
mood; not to mention avoiding giving some nosy neighbor
reason to complain. After glancing around to ensure
nobody was in sight, I drew a last line of lotion just
below her bottom and rubbed it onto her soft skin.
Higher and higher, until I was about to reach the
crotch of her bikini bottom. She parted her legs
slightly to allow access to the last bit of exposed
skin. The material was tight up against her most
intimate parts, and had pulled up into her crack,
outlining everything.
When I finally got there and rubbed against the very
edge of her crotch band, she audibly sighed.
Alright, that was it. Two can tease, I thought, and
rubbed the insides of her legs with my fingers for as
long as I dared, without so much as touching her fanny.
'You Bastard', I could almost hear Sam thinking.
Now she opened her legs further and raised her bottom
slightly off the towel, silently begging for more.
Nope. What she wanted still wasn't forthcoming, so she
turned her head to one side and stared up into my eyes
for several long seconds, the meaning obvious. Not yet,
you randy little girl, you'll have to wait. I continued
slowly rubbing all around her privates.
Just before I reckoned she'd start giving direct
orders, I stopped teasing. A hand slipped inward and
two fingers came to rest firmly on the material
covering her crack. Her head shot up from the towel and
she exhaled a long breath. My fingers remained still,
so little by little she slipped backwards to press them
harder into her crotch.
Another good look around to make sure nobody was in
sight. "You're overdressed," I whispered, then pulled
her bikini bottom down just enough to uncover her
bottom. The band clung momentarily between her legs
then popped free. In this brilliant sunshine, the
exposed white bottom contrasting shockingly against her
tanned legs and back. She shivered and looked up from
the towel, checking as I had that nobody was nearby.
"I just looked, nobody's around. Lie back and leave the
rest to me." She did as I suggested, and I pushed her
legs apart until the material of her bikini was
stretched tight. Now my hand was rubbing her glistening
crack. Bright pink flesh was exposed as a finger worked
its way into her fanny and began stroking her clitoris.
Sam raised her head off the towel again and groaned
loudly. Too loudly.
"Shhhh..." I implored her.
Sam quietened enough to continue, but then I heard
footsteps walking up the neighbor's driveway.
Reluctantly I withdrew and pulled her bikini bottom up
again. She'd heard it too, and didn't move or object.
Trying to bring her off out here in the sun was
dangerous enough as it was.
We didn't mention what we'd done as we got back to
chatting, and when she got tired in the warm sun I got
off the deckchair to let her take over and snooze in
the sun while I watched over her.
The afternoon passed quietly. I did some more swimming
then settled to tanning my all too pale body.
Looking at her, I got to thinking; what would she look
like when she became older? But just from looking at
photos it's well-nigh impossible to guess. The face can
be predicted fairly well, but the rest would depend on
how she looked after her body.
That line of thought got me wondering; had I been
thinking of her or myself when I gave oral sex to her?
Would the short term pleasure now, hurt her in the long
term? There's no doubt that forcing oneself upon an
unwilling person hurts, badly.
But at what point does sexual experimentation and
education become sexual exploitation? Telling children
about it when they display curiosity and giggliness
about vaguely sexual pictures, or when they ask pointed
questions? Letting them know what the human body looks
like unclothed? Were the latter illegal, naturalist
camps would vanish overnight. What about letting
children indulge in their natural curiosity and
actually touching?
The resulting charge is "allowing a minor to perform an
indecent act". Or teaching them all about sex and how
pleasurable it is within a loving relationship?
Regardless of circumstances, this results in a plethora
of charges lumping it together with real abuse. Carnal
knowledge, allowing an indecent act, unlawful sexual
connection... the list is endless.
I've never heard of a child hurt by entering into fully
consenting sexual activity. Confused, maybe. Aware,
yes. But leading a life burdened with the hell of
abuse, no.
I feel the trouble is defining 'consent' in a way
easily interpreted by law. Likely, one of the reasons
such things were banned outright was to avoid the
obnoxious situation of a scummy lawyer arguing that a
child who displayed all the "no" body language but
didn't verbally refuse unwanted contact was actually
saying "yes".
At the same time, I felt such an abuser was all the
more wrong, for being so narrow minded as to ignore the
obvious body language and/or the crying when they enter
their victims bedroom, yet thinking their victim is
saying "yes" because they can't verbally say "no".
Additionally, Victims often 'split' from the abuse in
order to survive, and hence act normally the rest of
the time towards the person who hurts them so badly.
I've heard that 75% of the resulting stresses are the
result of societal pressure. Not to say that sexual
abuse doesn't exist, far from it. I just wonder who the
abuser is, in cases where consent is obviously there
and the child knows their consent can be withdrawn at
any time.
How many times have we heard about the innocent young
girl, enjoying what she was doing, telling a friend
about it, who promises not to say anything. Word
"somehow" gets out, and the girl is forced by peer
pressure to save face and name by recanting and
changing her views.
The experience becomes more and more abhorrent because
of the looks of pity and disgust directed at her. That,
and being forced to give evidence in court against
relatives or friends was hardly likely to help. I've
heard that many such youngsters grow up troubled and
often commit suicide later on because of these
pressures placed on them.
But emotional and physical pain aren't restricted to
children. I used to cringe at the stories I heard about
girls enduring pain, discomfort and being left with
emotional scars from first times at the hands of
equally inexperienced or conquest-seeking and
manipulating lovers; all that anticipation replaced
with painful reality. Not surprisingly they often
regret their decision full stop, and I often wondered
why it had to be so. Not anymore.
If only families were allowed to teach the finer points
of sex to their children, it seems so preventable.
What is so wrong with educating our children in sex? To
teach or show what sex could be, instead of what it
shouldn't? To involve all the little details of
anatomy, position, smell and touch, so they aren't so
damned ignorant? And what's wrong with teaching them
from love? Instead of lust and desire.
I feel it's almost essential for youth to read "dirty"
books to learn about subtleties like foreplay, or even
the concept of non-penetrative sex. But who wants to
risk the wrath of the law, or worse, the righteous
indignation of their neighbors? So we're obliged to
throw our kids into the sexual arena with a "be good
now" warning that doesn't work, and the cycle repeats
itself. They have to be incredibly lucky to find a
caring lover the first time under these circumstances.
Apart from the scantest details of the biological
functions and appearance of the human body, Samantha's
books said nothing about the details of sex. They
almost seemed religious, discussing nothing except the
role of sex in procreation.
It was as if Children shouldn't know about the
pleasures, as that *might* lead to, *-gasp-*,
experimentation. Children aren't stupid, we only wish
they were. If they knew what it was all about, they
wouldn't be desperate to experiment.
I feel that knowledgeable children are more likely to
refuse casual sex, knowing that it's far better within
a stable, caring, long term relationship so they're not
going to end up hurt. And that the ideal place for
learning about such things is within a caring family
unit. And we thought we were past the hangovers of the
Victorian ages. Ha!
Years ago there was a Scandinavian community where
relatives would very gently introduce children to sex.
By reports, none could be described in any way as hurt,
and they were mature and knowledgeable beyond their
years. Not to mention, very unlikely to fall prey to
abusers. Then the Authorities discovered what was going
on and stepped in to arrest the Adults. I wonder how
those children are faring these days, as a result of
the latter.
If either party have sexual relations against their
will, that's abuse. If either feels uncomfortable or
bad about it, it shouldn't take place. But I don't
think that it has to be bad or uncomfortable, nor does
it have to have the abusive as part of the
relationship.
Ideally, if the child is always asked for permission
prior to even the most innocent touching of their
private parts, ie: for washing, they'll have a fair
idea of what consent is about.
Damn, it was three-thirty. Time to stop procrastinating
and get the jobs done before the folks come home.
I peeled the spuds, got some meat out for dinner, and
was chopping up the Onions. In moments my eyes were
watering. I was glad it wasn't me cooking tonight.
What's on the boob-tube I wondered; oh, that's right.
There was some good movie tonight, now what was it...
Samantha was standing next to me.
"Hi, was it okay out there?" I asked.
My voice trailed away. She was standing there with a
big grin on her face. The only item of clothing she had
on was her bikini top. Her mound and crack were just
begging to be rubbed, kissed and licked all over again.
"Would you like me to do again what I did earlier?"
"After teasing me like you did out there, I think you'd
better." I teased YOU?? Look who's talking. But what
the heck... Whatever you say, Sam.
I reached down to caress her tummy as she stood there,
and moved in to kiss her neck and whisper into her ear
how good I was going to make her feel. Gingerly I
fondled her soft round little white bottom with one
hand, whilst circling down to her fanny and pushing a
finger between her legs with the other. I found her
clitoris and began slowly rubbing it as she turned her
head to return my kisses. Surprise, surprise; she'd
even brushed her teeth before coming into the kitchen.
Rubbing her clitoris wasn't easy this way, so I got her
to lean forward against the bench with her legs further
open. Both hands returned to their former position.
Fingers edged between her legs from both sides.
Promptly they dipped into her wetness and slid through
the damp little crack until they met somewhere between
her legs.
Shortly I was rubbing both fingers in and out between
her legs and through the depths of her fanny, massaging
and stimulating the full length of her crack while Sam
stood there, head tilted back, mouth agape, breathing
heavily.
That was it, I couldn't wait any longer. I wanted so
badly to lick her out. Okay, how would we do it this
time... in the lounge I decided. I led her in there and
lay back on the couch, then directed her to kneel with
one leg on, the other off the couch so she was
straddling my face. When she was positioned I opened
her fanny wide.
Immediately my tongue dipped into her sweet, sensitive
pinkness and started licking her fanny while the other
hand rubbed her bottom and all around her privates.
Slowly she relaxed, and little by little allowed her
entire weight to rest on my face; which as you can
imagine wasn't much. Samantha kept shifting her weight
from one leg to the other, which made things difficult
as I kept having to adjust my position to keep up.
Finally I bade her to keep still. She was even wetter
than a few hours previously, and it looked like she was
going to come harder than before.
My tongue and fingers were sliding through her dampness
more and more readily. I averted my eyes for a moment
and spotted Samantha looking down at me with the most
amazing look of pure lust over her swollen nipples,
still covered with the tiny top.
I didn't think it was possible for someone to look so
sex-starved as she did. Pulling her fanny lips open
wider, the opening of her vagina was exposed again.
Gingerly I put my index finger against the opening and
eased it in. She tensed, but it slowly entered the
tight hole.
"Does that hurt?" I asked from somewhere between her
legs.
"I'd tell you if it was," came the confident reply. So
in it went. Carefully, taking my time, my finger edged
in past the first joint and halfway to the next. I
circled it around inside then settled to pushing it in
and out, gradually easing further and further inside
her tight wet vagina. Little resistance marred it's
progress, until she suddenly asked me to stop just past
the second joint.
She was starting to move around again, and this time I
knew it was because she was close. Out came the finger,
which audibly popped free from her virgin hole. I got
her rocking back and forth to help my tongue lash her
clitoris. Before much longer she trembled, tilted her
head back, groaned loudly, then tensed and lifted
herself off my face and stayed there until she'd come
down from her high.
I watched as her fanny lips, freed from the attention
of my spreading, probing fingers, closed tightly over
her pink flesh once more. Then it was over, and she
climbed off. As before, I hugged and held her, kissed
her and rubbed her back.
Idly I regarded the finger that had been inside her
vagina. The first thing ever to enter Sam's vagina,
probably because during nervous self-explorations she
hadn't gotten the juices flowing enough first. Then I
licked it clean of her juices.
"Yuck! You know where that's been!" she exclaimed,
grimacing. By means of reply, I wiped my finger through
her crack then licked it clean again.
"Oh, don't be gross!" she said as she closed her legs
to prevent me having another helping.
I took the chance to teach her the finer points and
etiquette of kissing. She liked the idea of driving her
tongue as far into my mouth as she could, which drives
me wild. She remained more or less nude the whole time,
which I didn't mind in the least as I dress the same
way when alone; in other words, not at all. Mmmm... I
feel tingles just remembering it, holding her against
me, her tongue in my mouth, our arms around each other.
This was the time to tell her about the minor role of
sex in relationships, to wait till she was really sure
of her future lover before allowing him access to her
body, that she should feel free to say "no" at any
time, and if she felt she didn't have that choice then
the only real choice for her peace of mind was to leave
the relationship.
All good things come to an end, and my parent's car
pulling into the driveway was the signal for Sam to
dash to her room and return more respectably dressed.
Seated at the dinner table, my mind kept drifting back
to our furtive encounters. I really liked being
touched, and she didn't mind either, but she really
didn't like the hair. Sure, she'd get used to it when
she grew her own, but since it was so unfamiliar it
wasn't really surprising she didn't like it.
When my own pubes started to grow, like many kids do I
hacked mine off with scissors, only to be left with
unbearable scratching and itching which rapidly
convinced me it wasn't such a good idea. If it was okay
and sexually desirable for women to shave their pubic
hair, I didn't see anything wrong with a male doing the
same. Also, it wasn't like I was at school and had to
conform in every way.
So as soon as the dishes were done, I locked myself in
the bathroom, applied soap to my pubic hair then set to
work with a clean razor. Starting at the top and
working down, while taking care to keep the skin tight.
When every hair was gone, I ran the razor over my
balls, barely touching them, until they too were
smooth. Then I ran a piece of Ice over the shaved parts
as I'd heard it reduces the initial irritation. The
irritation would end after a week so long as I
maintained it every 2-3 days in the shower from now on.
Finally I shook the towel out onto the lawn then put it
in the wash.
The rest of the evening was spent with the family,
catching up on gossip and news. We received a phone
call from Sam's parents in Wellington, who asked how
she was getting on. Sam talked briefly with them before
I was called to the phone.
"How are your studies getting on?" Suzanne asked.
"Good, very good in fact, thanks."
"Is little Samantha behaving herself?"
"She certainly is, no complaints at all. I'm keeping
her occupied, as Mum can testify. Sam was having a rest
till they came home." "Has she been hassling you for
McDonalds?"
"Well, now that you mention it..."
"That's thanks to her cousin, who introduced it to
her."
"Ahhh... so that's it. No, she hasn't been asking,
much." "Well don't worry, we'll be back tomorrow
afternoon, so you'll have your peace again."
"It's okay, Sam's been a pleasure to look after. She
hasn't been any trouble at all, really."
"Well, thank you Brian. If we need another babysitter
for a few hours or days we'll know who to ask."
Goody!
They chatted briefly to my parents before signing off.
I needed an early night, and departed shortly after
Sam. Before long, Sleep was fast approaching. The
familiar drowsiness and reluctance to move a muscle
told me I'd soon be dreaming about Samantha. The loud
creak from the opening door said I wouldn't be dreaming
about her. In the dim light I saw the door open then a
small figure that had to be Sam stealthily entered.
"Can I get in?" she asked.
Without a word I opened the top sheet. She climbed into
bed and cuddled up next to me.
"You can't stay, you know that?"
"Yes, it's just for now," she replied. Next thing I
knew, her hand was on my crotch.
"Can I touch?" she asked.
Bit late to ask.
"If I can do the same?"
The hand vanished, I heard movement then it returned to
it's former position.
I pulled my underpants down a bit. She took hold of my
cock and started feeling me up. Within moments a hard-
on was forming, swelling in her hand. When it was fully
erect, she moved down towards my balls. Where coarse
hair had been, there was now only smooth skin.
"What happened to the hair?" she suddenly asked.
"I shaved it off. Do you like it?"
She whispered that she did, and that it felt better as
she continued touching where I loved being touched.
Now I was feeling my way gingerly up her smooth legs.
The skin became hotter and hotter the higher I went.
She'd lifted her nightgown above her waist, and when I
reached her fanny I placed my hand over the entire
pubic region. She moaned her approval into my ear.
Unseen but mere inches away in the near pitch black, I
heard Samantha's breathing getting louder. She made
sounds of approval as I slowly rubbed her crack.
"How do boys make themselves feel good?" she asked out
of the blue.
"They start off doing what you're doing, to get hard."
"And then?"
Let me show you," I said. I found her hand and placed
it near the top of my cock, had her grip tightly then
got her started on slowly masturbating me. I showed her
the sensitive parts of my cock and how to stimulate
them. A few times I corrected her hold and technique
till she had it spot on. With her soft hand milking my
cock I soon got close to cumming. As much as I wanted
to come in her hand and over her fingers I didn't think
she'd like that one little bit, so I asked her to stop.
"Why?" she asked.
"I'm just about to come."
"What's wrong with that?"
"It'll make a mess, and I don't think you'd like it
anyway."
"You mean your milk would spurt out?"
"That wasn't in your books. How do you know about
that?"
"My friend told me about it."
"She knows an awful lot about these sorts of things.
First how to make yourself feel good, then about where
to lick a girl, and now this."
Silence.
"Can you keep a secret?"
"You know I can. But you don't have to tell me if you
don't want to."
Pause.
"It wasn't my friend, it was my sister. She told me how
to make myself feel good. And I watched her do it to
her boyfriend without her knowing." "Everything?"
"No, she won't let him put it in her, I heard her say.
What happened was, he licks her down there like you did
to me, and then she makes him feel good with her hand.
Once they didn't close the door properly, and I watched
them. I saw the milky stuff come out and cover her
hand."
"What did you think of it?"
"I liked watching it. Can I do the same?"
"Maybe tomorrow, not now. Mum would wonder why if I
wash the sheets so soon after I changed my bed."
We started to relax and fall asleep together. Then she
began shifting around and changing position.
"Can we move to my bed? Mine is more comfortable," she
asked. "Okay. But I'll have to go back to my own
bedroom before the others wake up."
I checked the corridor was empty, then we snuck into
her bedroom. She climbed into her bed and I followed
suit. We snuggled up together. She leaned over and
kissed my cheek. I turned and returned the kiss,
pecking her lips, as my free arm went around her
shoulders to cuddle her. She reached up and held my
hand. Full contact with her lips followed. Then tongue-
in-mouth, down to her neck, the side of the neck, and
finally where the neck meets the shoulder, taking extra
care not to leave any marks. She giggled madly when I
sucked there. Louder still, when I nibbled her ears and
blew into them. When I withdrew she attempted the same,
smothering my face and neck. I loved it.
Meanwhile, my wandering hand was working its way up her
legs again, circling and massaging past her thighs
until I reached her pubic mound. Her face was inches
from mine, and I could plainly hear every breath she
took. It was becoming labored, her breath on my ear
warmer as my fingers edged between her legs and began
fondling there.
"Brian?" she asked.
"Is it okay?"
"Could you finish off what you were doing earlier?" she
implored.
"Mouth or fingers?"
"Fingers."
I lifted the leg nearest me and put it over my stomach
to open her wide, then back between her legs went my
hand. I rubbed all around her baby soft warm crack,
occasionally slipping a finger along it's length. When
she was good and wet I parted her cunt lips with one
hand and began rubbing her little hard clitoris.
Immediately she tightened her grip on my hand and
moaned. The longer I kept it up, the harder her grip
became. Now my fingers were sliding back and forth
through her crack and over her clitoris, lubricated by
the juices emanating from inside her.
Without warning she tensed, gripped my arm really hard
and closed her legs tightly. A low, stifled groan left
her throat as she came. She relaxed. There was a long
silence.
"Thank you for doing that, Brian," she whispered into
my ear.
I kissed her again.
Soon we started to fall asleep together. I was heading
that way faster than she was, and felt the familiar
calm overtaking me. But what was that just touching my
ear? Something was crawling over it. A moth? I swatted
away Samantha's hand.
"Just checking to see if you're asleep," she said.
I was too far gone to reply, and soon nodded off.
I woke with a jolt to the same crawling sensation on my
ear.
"Just checking to see if you're asleep," her voice came
out of the dark.
"I was till then."
When she finally did nod off into dream world, I
discovered another reason why adults don't sleep with
kids. They move around LOTS. Whilst completely unaware
of what they're doing, they kick, they slap, they knee
you in the side, then they push you out of bed.
Barely an hour after climbing in with her I was back in
my room.
Dawn. The red twilight glow woke me before the
chattering around the breakfast table did. Thanks to
that volcano in the Philippines we get nice sunrises
and sunsets these days.
And it was shopping day. Being home and all, guess who
was volunteered? Moi.
I hate shopping.
I rose, showered then dressed and joined the family for
breakfast.
"So, he's back, is he?" Dad asked.
"And where did you go off to last night?" my sister
Christine asked.
"Huh?"
"Mum wanted to hand you the shopping list in case we
left before you out of bed, but you'd snuck out without
saying," she continued. Her facial expression changed
to a smile.
"Oh, I see," she continued. "He went out on a date and
didn't want us to know."
Huh?
One by one, everyone else broke out in smiles.
"Know what? I don't know what you're talking about."
"I think you do," she said.
Giggles from all around. What the hell was going on
here? I even looked behind me in case someone was
playing a silly joke. "Should we let him out of his
misery?" she asked.
That little bitch. She always liked being the master of
ceremonies.
"Naaaahhh..." Mum answered. "He'll work it out."
I seriously thought this was all planned out in advance
as a joke. Not until after they'd gone to school and
work, did I discover the reason for the mirth. I passed
the hallway mirror, and something struck me as a little
odd. The red smears on my neck.
SAMANTHA!!!!! In my haste I'd let her give me the
biggest hickie of all time!
"We're going shopping after your breakfast, Sam. After
that, would you like to go out? A park, a movie...?" I
suggested.
"Yes please!" she excitedly replied.
"Good, I could do with a break from this stuff," I
indicated with a sweep of my hand the math notes spread
out on the floor. "What'll we go and see?"
"How about 'The Little Mermaid'?" I suggested.
"That's supposed to be good. Okay."
Her facial expression changed.
"Eeeeewwww... what's that on your neck?" she asked.
Suddenly she clicked.
"Brian's got a Love bite!," she taunted.
Grrrr...
"Brian's got a Love bite!"
"Are your feet ticklish?" I asked.
"YES!" she loudly replied, her eyes wide, desperately
hoping I wasn't about to put her to the test.
Kids are too honest, that's their problem. In a flash
I'd wrestled her to the ground, sat on her legs then
started tickling her feet. Instantly she was in
hysterics. I gave her about 15 seconds worth then
paused.
"Are you sorry for teasing me yet?"
"YES!," she shrieked.
"No you're not."
I started on her sides. Now that got a good reaction.
I'd thought tickling her feet was fun. Heh heh.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!" she yelled.
"You will be, after THIS," I said as I made a beeline
for her armpits.
She shrieked.
"Look, what are you yelling for?? I haven't started
there yet."
"NOOOOOOOO!!!"
Yes. Tickles.
Another pause.
"Weeeelll.... should I stop or not?"
"YEEEEESS!!"
I sat there looking at her, my hands under her arms,
hers trying to pull mine away.
"Yeah, you do look kinda sorry now, I suppose I'd
better let you go," I finally said.
Just to be nasty, I pulled up her shirt and blew a
raspberry on her tummy before letting her up.
"Brian's got a Love bite!" echoed in my ear as she ran
for her room.
It'll keep.
Soon she re-emerged, but with a difference. She was
naked. Not that I minded in the least, but not right
now.
"Ummm, hadn't you better put some clothes on?" I
suggested. "Why?" she succinctly replied. Well, that
was true. It wasn't like there was anyone to bother
her, and I do the same thing when alone.
My will to ignore her and get on with work vanished
when she started doing her gymnastic stretching
exercises in the lounge, in front of me, still
completely naked. I paused to watch.
In the years since school I'd lost much of my
flexibility, and could hardly believe my eyes watching
Sam casually doing the "splits" on the carpet, then
bending sideways to touch her toes. She stood, and
slipped back down with her legs moving apart in front
and behind until they were flat against the carpet.
Then once more she bent forward till she could kiss her
leg, a marvelous display of flexibility.
"Could you help me?" she asked.
"... Sure... What do you want me to do?"
"Help me hold my leg up. At the gym we help each other
in some of our stretching exercises."
The first such exercise involved her standing up and
raising one leg until it was against her chest while I
held it there for ten seconds. Then we repeated the
effort with the other leg. For another exercise, she
sat cross-legged on the floor and had me push her knees
to the ground. I could hardly fail to get a good look
at her little pussy, the lips often parting with the
stretching, but I didn't know if she simply preferred
nudity for her workout in case it was easier, so I
tried my best to not get an erection.
"I'll bet you don't dress this way at your school gym."
"No, only at home. It's easier and there's less sweat
and smell." I could see the point there. In ancient
Greece most sport was nude, in fact nudity was far more
accepted and commonplace. Someone once calculated that
if modern athletes were allowed to compete while nude,
all sporting records would shortly be broken. Take a
tennis player for example. Along with clothes, s/he
needs a sweatband otherwise salty sweat will irritate
their eyes. Without clothes, cooling would be less of a
problem, hence less sweat, and no band needed.
"What exercises do you do in the gym?" she asked when
we'd finished.
"Shall I show you?"
"Yes, alright."
"Lie on the floor on your back."
"Promise you're not going to tickle me."
"I promise I won't tickle you."
She lay down and I pushed my arms under her back.
"Why don't you take your clothes off first, you silly!"
she protested.
So I shed my clothes and pushed my hands underneath.
She jerked, thinking I was going to tickle. I reassured
her I wasn't. "Keep still now. Trust me, okay? I won't
drop you." One hand was positioned on the middle of her
back just above her bottom, the other just below her
shoulders. The center of balance of the human body is
around the small of the back, so my stronger arm was
nearest her bottom. "Now let your legs relax when I
lift you."
She did, and I lifted her off the floor, past my
shoulders and toward the ceiling. Easy! She shrieked as
she found herself looking close-up at the ceiling.
"Stay still, I won't drop you."
Back down to eye height.
"Okay?" I asked, looking into her eyes. She nodded. 20
times in a row I lifted her before my arms got tired.
Sam found being used as a bar-bell a novel experience,
and giggled throughout once she got used to it.
"Is that what you do at the gym?" she asked when I set
her down. "More or less, with variations, some of which
are supposed to strengthen you but don't seem to give
much except pain."
She soon wandered off, and I got back to work. In an
hour I'd give myself a break, get dressed and take Sam
to the Supermarket. Sam returned, and sat next to me.
Then her hand slipped under my books, edging toward...
I stopped studying, and looked at her with a grin on my
face. Her smug look met mine.
"That's rude, you know," I pointed out.
She giggled, and her hand began creeping up my leg. I
was trying to order my cock to behave and not go hard,
but it wouldn't obey. No hiding it from Sam, she placed
her hand directly on my cock and began fondling.
"Can I finish what I started last night?"
"You're sure?"
"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to."
Study forgotten, I pushed my books aside and joined her
on the same sofa I'd eaten her out on yesterday.
"It looks much nicer without hair," she commented as
she started feeling me up again. By now I was fully
hard.
"Just start doing what you were doing last night. Keep
touching my balls with one hand while you pull on my
rod."
She happily obliged, and before long was giving an
enthusiastic handjob. A few times I corrected her hold
and got her to rub the head of my cock with the palm of
her free hand.
I was approaching the brink of orgasm.
"You can stop now if you don't want to see the rest.
I'm just about to come."
"I want to see it. I want to see it ALL, like my sister
does." The last thing I looked at before I came was her
soft untanned pubic mound, then at her hand furiously
wanking my cock, then her unblinking eyes intently
watching my privates. The first spurt of hot come
landed on my chest. She shrieked and her eyes went
wide, but she didn't stop. The next few covered her
little hand as I groaned loudly. She was giggling
almost as much as when I'd been tickling her.
"Keep going.... now slow right down, that's it... get
every last drop out... You can stop now, just hold it
for awhile."
"Did that hurt?" she asked when we'd calmed down.
"It couldn't have felt better, thanks."
"It sounded like it hurt."
"Believe me, it felt good, Sam."
"My sister's boyfriend wasn't like that."
"It's been a long time since somebody did it for me,
that's why it was real good."
"Do guys always look like that?"
"Often, yes. So do you."
"I DO NOT!!," she protested loudly, letting go of my
cock like a hot coal.
It plopped down onto the mess on my stomach.
"Oh yes you do!"
"NO I DON'T!"
Rather than risk upsetting her, I let her have her way.
Besides, how could I prove my point?
"Can we have McDonalds for Lunch again?" she asked,
grinning.
"Where did you learn that trick?" I replied.
"What trick?"
"Your sister? Did she tell you to milk a guy then ask
for what you want while he feels good?"
"No, but I'll have to remember that."
Oh dear. What HAVE I just taught her??
I had a quick shower to clean off the sweat and sperm,
especially as I hadn't had my morning shower yet.
Now I learned another fact of nature. Elephants never
forget, and neither does Samantha.
The shower door jerked open, and a cupful of freezing
water splashed over me in the midst of the nice hot
water.
"AAARRGGHHHH!!"
"That's for tickling me earlier."
Hey, neat! I love a bit of fire in a girl. God, I
almost pitied her future boyfriend, he was going to
have to work hard to keep up!
Shopping. I hate it. Kids love pushing trolleys around
and Sam was no exception, so that made it a little more
bearable. She'd chosen to wear one of those skintight
shorts a lot of girls do these days; naturally it
outlined her round soft little bottom and her long slim
legs. I like them better than schoolgirl dresses, less
left to the imagination.... Back to reality, Brian.
Stop perving on Sam, you've work to do, the little
voice in my head was saying.
The aisles passed slowly. The queue at checkout was
even slower. Why do people have to shop on Thursdays?
Everyone shops Thursdays. But no, it HAD to be done
today, Mum had said.
I couldn't wait to get out of that place and back to my
Car. We unloaded the goodies and packed them away
before driving to the early session of "The little
Mermaid".
It was a neat movie! I'd love to have had a girlfriend
to watch it with, but I'm yet to meet my future Mrs.
Foster. But there was no hurry, it'd happen. Like they
say, when you least expect it, expect it. That'd proven
very true in Sam's case, but it wasn't QUITE what I'd
had in mind...
Sam was really enthusiastic about it and for a treat I
even took her to her beloved Chuckdonalds for lunch
again. That was the very least I could do, after she'd
made my naughtiest dreams come true. It was just a pity
this was our last afternoon alone.
Back home again, we chatted further about the
arrangement her sister and boyfriend had, taking care
of each others tension in a safe, pregnancy worry free
and enjoyable way whenever they needed it, and she
suggested the same. I promptly agreed.
I told her that someday I'd have a girlfriend closer to
my own age, but I wouldn't forget her. When we could,
I'd be more than happy to relieve her "tension" until
she found a partner. She agreed.
"Could we start now?" she asked.
"You mean, make you feel good?"
She nodded.
"Ok. Wait here. Don't take your clothes off yet." This
would be the last time for awhile I'd get to eat her
out, so it had to be special. I grabbed my sheepskin
blanket and Christine's (What she didn't know wouldn't
bother darling little sis), the pillow off my bed and
both of hers, and a towel. Then I spotted something
that was REALLY going to make my day... and brought it
along wrapped up in a sheepskin so Sam wouldn't see it
till too late.
Quickly I set everything up on the Dining table while
Sam watched. Sheepskins went down first, then the
towel. A pillow for her head and the other two for arm
rests.
Sam was watching the proceedings, and now it was her
turn. I completely undressed Sam in the lounge one item
at a time, rubbing her nipples as the shirt came off,
then putting my hand into her undies to feel her up
before removing them too.
Now I scooped her up into my arms and carried her to
the impromptu bed on the dinner table and arranged her
on it. I lifted her legs open and spread them as wide
as possible before setting to work with the tongue and
fingers in her crack...
Long minutes later she was nearing another orgasm.
When I sensed she was about to come, I reached down and
found the Polaroid camera where I'd left it. Now came
the tricky part. I pulled back as she started cumming,
taking care to leave a hand on her privates as she
closed her legs tightly. Her head tilted back as she
groaned loudly. Now. Aim, Focus, and... <FLASH>
Jolted out of her stupor, she stared in amazement as I
pulled the Polaroid from the Camera.
"Don't worry, I'm just proving something to you. I'll
destroy the photo in a minute."
When sufficient time had passed, I removed the backing
and gave the photo to Sam, who was sitting up on the
edge of the table. The photo was amazing! Her legs were
closed over my hand with my fingers reaching up to
caress her mound, while her facial expression could be
interpreted as a look of either agony or extreme
pleasure. Yet another reason not to keep it, but now
I'd proven my point to Samantha.
"There you go. You see, you look just like I did," I
pointed out. She shook her head in amazement and
studied it for a long time before handing the photo
back. Out came the box of matches. The photo and it's
backing quickly disappeared in an ashtray.
Sam looked thoughtful.
"Could you take more photos of me, rude ones I mean?"
"We could, there are more photos left in the camera,
but you know we couldn't keep them."
We discussed the details for awhile, and she agreed to
put her top and dress on to do a slow strip for the
Camera.
We started off with her sitting on the couch looking
innocent.
<Click>
She held her dress up to show her white panties.
<Click>.
Standing up with the dress held right up.
<Click>
Panties and t-shirt only.
<Click>
A close-up of her crotch with her hand in her panties.
<Click>
Panties partway down, just enough to show the top of
her crack.
<Click>
Kneeling on the floor over the couch reading a book,
innocently showing her round white bottom and the thin
slit of her fanny.
<Click>
Same position, but she's looking around as I fondled
her bottom. Panties still partway down, but she's
standing with her legs apart, stretching the material.
<Click>
Standing there naked from the waist down, legs held
wide.
<Click>
Moving in for an extreme close-up of her crack.
<Click>
Completely naked now, standing with a grin on her face.
<Click>
Sitting on the couch with her long smooth legs held
wide open.
<Click>
She's holding her vagina lips open, displaying the
innermost pink recesses to the camera.
<Click>
Now she's grinning at me over the Carnation I'd
inserted into her vagina.
<Click>
Still in the same position, but now with my tongue deep
in her crack and a relaxed look on her face. This last
photo took 4 attempts to get right, considering I had
to hold the Camera behind my head.
When I'd finished giving her another juicy orgasm, we
examined the photos at our leisure. Back and forth went
the photos as we admired our handiwork, until it was
nearing time for my family to return. Reluctantly I put
a match to them. Keep just one?? Nope. Take no chances.
This was evidence that would send us both literally to
hell. They reduced to ashes, which I tipped onto the
lawn and stamped on. Not even identifiable ashes.
Sooner rather than later her time here ended. Luckily
she lived nearby, so copying her sisters arrangement
wasn't a problem. We just had to be careful that she
actually brought some work over for me to help her
with. Sometimes we actually got around to looking at
it; after giving her little fanny the licking she
craved.
Eventually I finished my degree and got a job in the
Lands and Survey department with the Cartographers.
You'd be amazed how often maps have to be corrected.
Even in these days of satellite photos, the publicly
available ones only go down to a hundred yards
resolution. Finer details require on-situ work.
Some skilled trampers regularly report corrections
required in the position of huts, creeks and so on.
Usually a surveyor would be posted, which meant long
days working in pairs out in the middle of nowhere.
This desirable aspect of the work is rotated, so before
long I was back in the big smoke, in the mapmaking dept
where the HARD work is done.
And Samantha was growing up. The first tiny tufts of
pubic hair and the subtle transformation of pre-teen
buds to tiny breasts took me by surprise. She didn't
like the new hair at all, and as I half expected her to
try, she attacked it with scissors only to have it
return together with maddening itching.
I saw the reddened mound where she'd been scratching
and reassured her it was perfectly normal and that
she'd get used to it, but she wished it didn't have to
be that way. Month by month I watched the hair expand
to cover more and more of her crack.
By now she'd long gotten used to my finger inside her.
She quite liked the feeling of it probing her gooey
vagina while I licked her clit. Just before she came I
could insert a second finger without discomfort,
producing faint squishy noises, the sound of sex, as
they emerging coated with vaginal lubricant.
It wouldn't be long before she could fit 'something
larger', but I'd decided that wasn't for me as I wanted
her to be proud to be virgin. Also, the earlier a girl
starts having intercourse, the higher the risk of
cervical cancer in later years. If I took pleasure that
way now, it might just end up taking her life in the
long term. Uh huh, no way.
To make things different for both of us, I kept
introducing variations. One time I got her to kneel
astride the bed, then lifted her dress, pulled her
panties aside and licked her to a juicy orgasm without
removing any item of clothing.
A few times I helped her into a handstand position for
a short time. Naturally her dress fell away, and I
pulled her panties aside for more of the same.
I always loved sucking, licking and rubbing her
nipples, even before she developed breasts. They'd
stiffen and go erect from the attention. I'd take ages
about it, which she liked.
"Why do you like mine so much?" she asked one day.
"What do you mean?"
"Mine aren't big like girls are supposed to have."
"Says who?"
"All the models you see have big ones."
"Now hold on, Sam. You're only 11. Don't try comparing
yourself to grown up women, there isn't a comparison.
Yours may or may not grow as large as others when you
get older, there's no way to tell. Be proud of what you
are, regardless of what anyone may say.
"Don't try to be something you're not. No matter how
big or small they'll end up, I'll still think you're
beautiful and so will lots of other guys. And no matter
what size, they'll still be sensitive and we'll both
still like me touching them." While talking, I was
rubbing both nipples with my palms. The cool air and
the stimulation was puckering her nipples into little
raised bumps. "See what I mean?"
She smiled. Point proven.
I pulled up her dress.
When she was 11 and started going to Intermediate, she
discovered the 'joys' of Homework. Math and the
sciences were her worst subjects and she hated having
so much of it clogging up her time; which made regular
visits to our house a necessity.
And I discovered the joys of schoolgirl uniforms. Or
rather, taking them off. Just inside my bedroom door
would be her shoes, schoolbag and jersey. A step closer
to the bed would be her panties, and on the bed itself
would be Samantha, schoolgirl dress above her waist,
shirt buttons undone, my tongue and fingers frantically
exploring and probing her wet crack.
Afterwards I'd put her panties back onto her and watch
the damp spot spread across the crotch. A few times I
decided to be a little kinky and pocket them instead,
then accompany her home with only the dress covering
her privates, and push the panties into her schoolbag
when we reached her house.
On the rare occasions when Sam and I had plenty of time
and didn't have to worry about noise, I played little
games while we made love. For instance, one day as she
was splayed on the bed while I ate her out, she
suddenly did something she'd never done before, when
she leaned over and grabbed my erect cock, still
covered by my jeans. "Take them off, I want to hold
it."
"Not now."
"Why not?"
"That'd be rude."
She burst out laughing.
"Don't be Silly!!," she said, hitting my arm.
"Yuk!" I responded.
"What?"
"It's horrible."
"What is?"
"There's a wet spot here. I'll have to get a towel and
dry it off."
"What? Oh..."
She clicked, and hit my arm again, harder than last
time.
"Don't be horrible!," she said, grinning.
I stopped licking and fingering her.
"Come on!"
I didn't move.
"Stop being horrible!!"
Whatever you say, Sam. Back to licking her fanny. My
free hand wandered up to the buds on her chest and
began rubbing and fondling all around, then it slipped
down to her side and started tickling. She slapped it
away.
Don't be horrible any more, or I won't make you
spurt!," she finally threatened.
Time to behave.
"You've been a naughty girl, haven't you?" I said
another such time when she came to me for a good
licking.
"No I haven't!" she protested.
"Over my knee, Sam," I said as I pulled her toward the
bed. I bent her over my knee, lifted her dress and
pulled her panties down to the knees. Now I started
teasing, rubbing around her exposed fanny before
penetrating the slit and rubbing her clitoris. My free
hand alternated between holding her firmly in this
position and fondling her soft round little bottom.
"You're a bad girl, aren't you?"
"NO!" (giggles)
(Smack!) went my hand lightly on one little bare
buttock. She shrieked and kicked madly when I briefly
tickled her sides. "YES!," she tried. (louder giggles)
(Smack!) went my hand on the other buttock.
"I said yes, but you spanked me anyway!"
(Smack!)
"And that's for being rude. You don't even have panties
on."
Mad giggling.
I withdrew my fingers and reached underneath to
approach her slit from the front of her body, so I
didn't accidentally jab my finger into her clitoris
from the back. From my perspective I could see wetness
spreading to mat her pubes and lubricate my finger,
which was half buried lengthwise in her crack.
The flesh around my finger was molding to accompany it
as I pressed on her sensitive clit and swirled around
to explore every part of her crevice and reveal bright
pink innermost skin.
She moaned softly as she started to feel really good.
"Are you going to be a good girl from now on?"
"NO!"
(Smack!)
"You can talk. I can feel your hard-on against my
tummy."
(Smack!) (Smack!) (Smack!) (Smack!)
"You're not supposed to know about such things."
"You taught me."
"You watched those boys through the peephole at
school."
(Smack!)
Now my fingers were flying through the damp folds of
her fanny, lubricated by copious vaginal juices. The
erect clitoris was being rubbed incessantly and you
could see the results; she was panting and shifting her
weight around on my knee as she neared an orgasm.
"This is the kind of spanking I wish I'd gotten when I
was naughty," she commented.
(Smack!)
"You said it, not me," I replied. etc.
Before long the combination of mild humiliation and
clitoral stimulation made her come harder than she'd
done for a long time.
Just as I'd warned Sam, one day I met a very suitable
girl closer to my age, and Karen and I became engaged a
year later. Not long after then, our relationship
developed to the point it wasn't necessary for Sam to
'take care' of my needs any more, but I was still more
than happy to take care of hers until she found a
partner for herself.
One day after Sam and I had made love and were cuddling
on the bed, her little hard breasts poking into my bare
chest as she lay on me, she told me that she was being
teased in the school changing room about the hairs
growing under her arms.
I said that that was one thing she'd have to get used
to taking care of, and if she liked I could show...
A brainwave hit me. She still hadn't accepted the rest
of the new hair on her body, and I suggested shaving it
all off until she could do it for herself. She promptly
agreed.
A few nudist parents shave both their boys and girl's
pubes and underarms to reduce the shock and
embarrassment of the resulting changes and help them
through adolescence, and I don't see any harm in it so
long as the kids are happy to have it done.
Of the two, I find underarms trickier. I got fed up of
hairs being caught up and yanked by some weight
exercises at the gym, and started taking care of them
rather than put up with it. The hairs grow in 3
different directions on two sides as you hold you arm
up, so shaving there is a minor skill in itself.
From the bathroom I grabbed a fresh towel, my razor,
Dads beard trimmer, liquid soap, a cloth and a cup of
warm water.
I opened the towel on my bed and directed Samantha to
lie on it with her legs open.
"Say goodbye to all that hair," I said as I switched on
the beard trimmer. Starting at the top and working
across, I shaved the still incompletely formed
triangle. Then right down between her legs, nuzzling up
to her cunt lips, not leaving a single hair. Hair fell
in a continuous stream to accumulate on the towel.
And that wasn't all I was doing. I hadn't reckoned on
the effect of the vibrations all round her privates.
The newly re-exposed lips glistened with moistness.
Using a corner of the towel I wiped away the loose
strands, leaving Sam's mound and fanny as bare as the
day I'd first seen her. But not bare enough. The
trimmer left bristles, and I wanted smooth skin like
mine.
So I soaped her mound and all around her fanny, then
set to work with the razor. Whilst holding tight the
skin I was working on, I started at the top of her
mound and moved down. Totally smooth skin was left
behind, not even baby fluff. When I reached her crack I
had to take hold of one side of her lips to keep the
skin tight, thereby opening her very damp little crack
to my attention.
Now I got her to flip over onto her stomach and
similarly shaved right up to her little rosebud anus.
Finished. I dried her skin for her. Samantha's privates
looked just like when I'd first seen them years before.
Smooth. Young. Wet and willing. The look of surprise
and delight on her face when she checked my handiwork
made it all worthwhile. She didn't find a single hair
or bristle. Last was her underarms. I had to be really
careful to avoid any finger contact as I knew that
tickled her like crazy.
Samantha had reason to visit every two or three days;
the perfect compromise between irritating the sensitive
skin by shaving her genital area too often, and the
hairs getting scratchy on my lips and chin. For
convenience I shave myself in the shower, but I only
once ever managed this with Sam; climbing in and
kneeling in front of her, soaping up her privates and
shaving them as she leaned back against the wall for
support while I held one leg high to allow access to
every nook and cranny.
* * *
After what's happened these last few years, I don't
have any more fantasies.
They all came true.
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 66