Message-ID: <084313Z18021996@anon.penet.fi>
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From: an525675@anon.penet.fi
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Reply-To: an525675@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sun, 18 Feb 1996 08:35:01 UTC
Subject: NEW STORY  When I Was Twelve (ff/mast/exhib/best/pedo) by Shere
Lines: 126
Xref: news.primenet.com alt.sex.stories:133621


@ 1996 by Shere    

Warning: this story contains explicit sexual situations of
a nature inappropriate for minors. If you are under the age 
of18, stop reading now.

	The spring that I turned twelve, I still looked almost 
like a boy. I sure dressed like one--denim cutoffs, polo 
shirts, Keds, dirty fingernails, unpierced ears. Though I did 
wear my black hair long. I pulled it back in a ponytail for 
gym class. I was a cute kid, but a tomboy all the way.
	So it sort of surprised me when I started to feel this
sweet ache between my legs when I looked at certain 
boys in my class, and when I got more and more into the 
dirty jokes my friend Carla liked to tell when we ate 
cookies in her parents' basement. Carla was half-Mexican, 
older, and more sophisticated. Her hippie Anglo father was 
a photographer, and he'd hung nude portraits of his wife, 
Carla's beautiful Mexican mom, all over the basement, so 
our whispers about boys and "pricks" and "hard-ons"  were 
always watched over by these big, pale breasts and thighs 
and black patches of pube hair. 
	Carla and I both liked boys, or at least the *idea* of 
boys. But since we didn't have boyfriends yet, all we could 
do was talk, talk, talk. (I couldn't have gotten more horny 
from those conversations, though, if I was getting it from 
three guys in all three holes at once!)
	I especially liked it when Carla told me stories--I 
knew she was making them up, but I didn't care--about 
stuff like guys who made their girlfriends shave their 
pussy hair off or wear a dildo up them when they cleaned 
the house. Her best one, which she swore was true, was 
about this little girl whose parents were really sick, and 
used to invite their friends over to do stuff to the girl. Like 
they laid her down on the kitchen table with her naked 
butt in the air and filled her back hole up with milk 
through a straw, and then all their friends took turns 
putting their fingers up her pussy and playing with her 
until she started to "come" and the milk shot out all over 
her butt cheeks. (I didn't know what "come" meant until 
that night when I was in bed and I started pretending I 
was that little girl. I was rubbing my hands over my 
pajama crotch while I imagined the straw going slowly up 
my butt, and Mr. Smith from next door sticking his big fat 
pointer finger in my wet little puss and moving it around 
really slowly. Then I "came" myself for the first time ever, 
and, oh, MAN!!!!!!)
 	One afternoon Carla said she'd give me a back rub. 
When I had to pee a few minutes later and pulled down 
my white cotton panties in the basement john, I saw for 
the first time a slick trail in my underwear crotch. Half-
scared, I slid an index finger just inside my pussy opening. 
It felt gooey up there. I was horrified, like I had started to 
decompose inside. Later I'd get used to all that slime, and 
after jerking myself to orgasm with my fingers or a 
cucumber or carrot swiped from the fridge, I'd just wipe 
myself off with a kleenex and fall asleep. But that was 
	The day after the "massage," I went over to Carla's 
house straight from school, already aroused. She'd 
promised to show me some "really hot fuck-books" she 
said she found in her parents' dresser drawer, next to a 
rubber thing she thought must be her mother's diaphragm.  
Down in the basement, we huddled up with handfuls of 
Oreo cookies on some throw pillows and pored over the 
	I don't remember what they were, except they were 
explicit stories with no pictures, and they made my cunt 
heat up like a charcoal. One was about a teenage girl 
getting gang-raped in the back of a truck (she came 
explosively after being eaten out for what sounded like 
hours), another about a woman being tied up on her bed 
by a home invader and given an enema, then raped until 
she unwillingly came, whereupon her rapist pulled the 
enema tube out of her anus and hot soapy water spurted 
from between her buttocks in time to the helpless 
contractions of her cunt. 
	The one we agreed we liked best was the story of a 
young girl (twelve herself) whose sexual awakening 
happened with her family's huge German Shepherd. I had 
to resist the urge to stroke my pussy as we read on 
through the seduction (girl takes down her underwear and 
spreads honey on her naked crotch, and the dog sticks his 
eager snout  up her pussy to lick it off) to the climax (girl 
has her first orgasm lying face down on her bed, grinding 
her swollen clit against the covers while the family 
pet's giant dong furiously pumps her cunt.) 
Carla and I looked at each other for a long time after we 
turned the last page. When we heard upstairs her family's big 
golden retriever whining for his dinner, we knew we were 
thinking the same thing. She smiled at me and licked her 
"No way, we can't!" I said.
 "Could we?"
"It might hurt... What if we got an infection?" Carla said. 
She bit her lower  lip. 
We looked at each other. After reading that story, my 
pussy was so wet I could feel the gunk soaking through my 
panties. My asshole was begging me to beg someone to 
stick a finger up it. I wanted a cock up me too. Badly. 
Carla looked away from me up the stairs. She wet her lips and 
whistled, low and tentative at first and then more shrilly. 
A scratch of nails on floor and a big yellow head appeared at 
the top of the basement stairs.

*      *      * 
To be continued.

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