Please note: All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.
Please keep in mind the difference between fantasy and reality.







Exhibitionist Tricks
Chapter two
Written by Janus
Copyright 2006

After my success with the snake in the box trick, I was inspired to find other ways to secretly expose myself to little girls. My next idea centered around the local outdoor market that was held each weekend. Farmers from all over the state would come to town each weekend morning to sell their home-grown fruits and vegetables. The place was usually packed with people, lots of families and hence lots of little girls.

My first point of business was to buy an old wheelchair at a garage sale. The wheelchair served two purposes: first, adults tend to get uncomfortable around people in wheelchairs. For obvious reasons, no one ever stares at someone in a wheelchair. It would provide perfect cover for not drawing undue attention to myself. Secondly, people would feel sorry those bound to wheelchairs. Whatever I was selling, I could probably count on getting some sympathy sales.

It wasn’t a hard choice to settle on selling bananas. I just went to my local supermarket and bought several bunches. Then I chose a nice and long banana, one that wasn’t too curved. I cut off the tip of the banana and threw it away. Next, using a long teaspoon, I carefully scooped out the banana flesh until all I had was the banana skin. I used a little lube to ease the way as I slid the banana skin over my cock like a condom. It fit perfectly.

It was a funny sight, seeing that banana sticking straight out of my crotch. I hoped some little girls would find it interesting too. Chuckling to myself, I took a shallow cardboard tray and cut a strategic hole in it. Sitting down in the wheelchair, I positioned the tray in my lap and arranged the other bananas around my ace in the hole.

It looked perfect. To any passers-by, I appeared to be just some guy in a wheelchair, selling a tray of bananas in my lap. I could hardly wait until the weekend to try out my new scheme.

Imagine my disappointment when it rained heavily on Saturday morning. It was such a downpour that I knew the farmer’s market would be called off. Sunday, however, turned out to be a gloriously sunny morning, complete with a warm breeze and deep blue sky.

I hummed as I drove to the market, the tray of bananas jostling in the seat next to me. I parked far away so I wouldn’t be spotted unfolding the wheelchair from my trunk. There was no one around so it was a snap to arrange myself and the bananas in the wheelchair. Using some trusty K-Y lube, I stroked my cock to a semi-erect state before slipping on my banana skin condom. Just in case I needed it again, I slipped the bottle of lube into my shirt pocket.

My heart was racing as I wheeled closer and closer to the farmer’s market. I didn’t realize what hard work it is to push myself in the wheelchair, particularly over the high curbs and cracked sidewalks. I was quite sweaty and haggard by the time I reached the market.

I positioned myself on a curb that was bustling with people but not too busy. As I suspected, most people glanced my way and quickly pretended to look away. I made brief eye contact with several people who turned away, embarrassed. Their discomfort was clear. On the one hand, acknowledging my presence meant noticing I was in a wheelchair. On the other hand, stopping to buy bananas might signal a sense of pity on me. Who wants to take talk to a guy in a wheelchair, holding a cardboard sign that read “Bananas – 25 cents each”?

Kids, that’s who. Kids at the farmer’s market are never interested in the rhubarb, eggplants, exotic olives, or hardy perennials. They want food that’s familiar to them. And young children had no qualms about approaching a person in a wheelchair either.

“Mommy, can I have a banana?” a little girl asked. I smiled at her. She was probably five or six, with long blond hair and cute dimples. Had someone been watching carefully, they would have seen one of the bananas in my tray twitch.

“Sure, honey,” a woman said. I watched as she turned to her daughter and then noticed me in my wheelchair. “Oh, um… here you go sweetie,” she said fumbling in her purse and handing her daughter a quarter. “Why don’t you just choose what you like? I’ll be over here looking at the heirloom tomatoes.”

The woman turned to a booth only a few feet away. Her daughter stepped up close to my wheelchair and leaned in to examine the tray of bananas in my lap. Her head was so close that I could smell the charming scent of her shampoo. She was wearing a white long sleeve shirt under a simple red dress that dipped to the middle of her chest. My heart was racing.

“Mommy, which one should I get?” she called.

“Whichever, honey,” her mom replied over her shoulder, not even bothering to make eye contact with us. “Maybe a ripe one?”

“Okay,” the little girl said.

“You’re such a pretty thing,” I told her. “What’s your name?”

“Veronica,” she said.”

“Well, Veronica, let me tell you a secret,” I said, lowering my voice. “You can tell which bananas will be ripe and sweet by squeezing them. Did you know that?”

“No,” Veronica replied.

“It’s true,” I continued. “You want one that’s not too hard but not too soft either. Why don’t you try it?”

“Okay,” Veronica said gamely. The little girl reached into the tray and began tentatively squeezing the bananas. My heart beat faster and faster as she neared the center of the tray where ‘my’ banana was waiting. Finally, her small hands groped my disguised cock.

I was in heaven. Only the banana skin separated Veronica’s hands from my hard and pulsating cock. She gave the banana a few squeezes, making my cock ache with pleasure. She could tell something was up though. I saw a look of consternation on her face.

“This one feels different,” she told me.

“Do you think it’s ripe?” I suggested. “Why don’t you try squeezing it some more?”

Veronica gave my banana a few more squeezes. I glanced around but no one was paying any attention to us. “It feels funny,” she announced. “It’s soft but not really. It’s kind of hard at the same time.”

I wasn’t really prepared for what happened next. Veronica kept groping the banana, sending delightful sensations throughout my body. I was so turned on by the thought of this six year old unknowingly handling my cock that I wasn’t able to stop her from trying to actually PICK UP the banana. The banana skin came away in Veronica’s hands as my cock slipped free of its costume.

“Oh gee,” I stammered, my face turning bright red. Veronica was staring dumbfounded at the banana peel in her hand as she did a double take at the exposed cock resting among the bananas in my lap tray. Thinking quickly, I tried to figure out a way to get the hell out of there without drawing too much attention to myself.

“Hey!” Veronica said, surprised. “There was a penis inside that banana!”

“Oh, uh…. Yeah,” I spluttered. I could already envision the headline in my mind, PEDOPHILE GETS LIFE SENTENCE FOR PERVERTED EXHIBITIONIST TRICK.

“Gosh, how did that get there?” I said lamely.

“It looks just like my daddy’s penis,” Veronica said, inspecting it.

“Oh, um, that’s great,” I told her. The little girl glanced at her mom who was paying no attention to us whatsoever. To my amazement, she reached out and touched my cock.

“Daddy never lets me touch his,” the girl whispered to me. “He doesn’t even like it when I look at it. You don’t mind, do you?”

I couldn’t believe I was calmly sitting there as this six year old girl handled my bare cock in public. It felt terrific but I was still looking around nervously to see if anyone was watching us. Veronica knelt down next to my wheelchair to get a better vantage point.

“It feels neat,” Veronica said, petting me. Her little fingers explored the purple head, feeling the velvety skin of my helmet. “Whose penis do you think this is? Why was it in the banana?”

My heart attack was delayed by at least five minutes by this comment. Veronica didn’t know it was my cock! For all she knew, it was just some random penis that had been stuffed into a banana peel.

“Um, beats me,” I said, playing along. “Maybe the farmer misplaced his penis and put it, uh, inside the banana.”

“Do you think he’ll want it back?” Veronica asked. She ran her hands along the underside of my thick cock, giving it another squeeze. Without waiting for an answer, she continued, “Do you think I could have it? I’ll take good care of it.”

“Um, I don’t think so,” I told her. “I’m pretty sure the farmer will miss it and want it back.”

“Okay,” Veronica said, disappointed. “I wish daddy would show me his. I always wanted to see one up close and touch it. I asked mommy why he won’t show me and she said just because.”

She was giving my cock a final stroke when something awful happened. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure approach behind my shoulder. My heart sank. I fought the desire to shut my eyes and beg for mercy.

“Hey, what’s going?”

Veronica stood up hastily. Steeling myself, I turned to find myself face to face with a young girl probably around ten years old. She had long brown hair in a ponytail and her cheeks were dotted with freckles.

“Um, hi,” I said, trying to cover up my exposed cock with my hands.

“Here you go, mister,” Veronica said, handing me the banana peel condom. “I better go now.”

“You can stop trying to hide your cock,” the girl told me in a matter-of-fact tone. “I saw everything that happened.”

My face was so hot you could have fried an egg on it. I rearranged the bananas in the tray to hide my rapidly deflating cock. I knew it was over but I was overwhelmed by a sudden sense of modesty. The girl laughed at my efforts.

“Go ahead,” I said, defeated. “Are you going to scream? Holler for the cops? I’ll go quietly.”

“I’m not going to do any of that,” the girl told me.

“Really?”

“No.”

“You mean you’ll keep this a secret?”

“I won’t tell on you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

I couldn’t believe my luck. I spun the wheelchair around and began rolling away as fast as I could go. “I swear to God I’ll never do anything like this again,” I thought to myself, “Thank you, thank you Jesus, thank you. I’ll never look at a little girl again, I swear.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” a voice behind me said. I looked over my shoulder but didn’t stop the wheelchair. It was the girl. She was following me.

“I thought you said I could go,” I said.

“I said I wouldn’t tell on you,” she replied.

“Why are you following me then?” She trotted alongside me as I rolled up to my car. We were far from the farmer’s market now and there was no one else around.

“Did it feel nice?” the girl asked. “Having that kid touch your cock?”

“Why are you asking me this?” I said, confused.

“Just answer the question.”

“Yes,” I said finally. “It felt great. I loved it. Can I go now?”

“That’s what I thought,” the girl said. “Guys like being touched by kids, don’t they?”

“Not all guys,” I said. “Just some guys. Look, why do you want to know all this?”

“What’s your name?” she asked me.

I stared at her, bewildered. I wondered if this was really some sort of sting. Maybe there was a cop watching us right now. I glanced around nervously but saw no one.

“Look, I just want to know your name,” the girl said again. “I promised not to tell on you. Can’t you at least tell me your name?”

“I’m Jeff,” I told her. I probably should have given a fake name but, for some reason, I didn’t feel like I had to. The alarm bells in my head were slowly getting quieter.

“My name is Therese,” she said.

“Nice to meet you, Therese,” I said warily. “How old are you anyway?”

“I’m nine years old.”

“What’s a kid like you doing with a guy like me?” I said jokingly. She didn’t smile though. There was a long silence. I could tell from the way she shifted her weight from sneaker to sneaker that she wanted to tell me something.

“Can I see your cock again?” Therese asked me.

My heart started racing again. Did I hear her right? This had to be a sting, I thought to myself. I scanned the area again but there was no sign of life anywhere.

“Please?” Therese pleaded. I stared at her. She was a cutie all right with her freckles and oval face. She was wearing a matching track suit with a plain white t-shirt underneath her jacket. Along with the brown ponytail, she definitely gave the impression of a tomboy. Against all better judgment, I unstacked the bananas that surrounded my cock.

For a long moment, Therese stared at my soft cock, resting quietly among the oh-so-phallic bananas. Despite the situation, the blood started flowing to my cock again, making it slowly grow. As an exhibitionist, I get off on this stuff. Exposing my cock to a nine year old girl was first-rate in my book.

“Can you make it hard again?” Therese asked.

“What?” I said, not believing my ears. My cock leapt to semi-hard attention at her request.

“Make it hard again,” Therese repeated.

I shrugged and began fisting my cock until it stood at full attention. The nine year old girl peered intently into my lap as my cock jutted up obscenely.

“Can you move that stupid tray of bananas?” Therese asked.

Carefully, I lifted the cardboard tray and freed my cock. My jeans were already unzipped but I undid my jean button anyway. I wasn’t wearing underwear underneath the jeans. Sensing she wanted to see more, I lifted my ballsack out of the jeans so they hung over the zipper of my undone pants. Then I took my hands away so as not to obscure her view of my hard cock and fleshy balls. I sat like that for another long moment as she stared.

“That’s the slippery stuff, isn’t it?” Therese asked, indicating the bottle of lube in my shirt pocket. Without waiting for an answer, she plucked it out of my pocket. Stunned, I watched as she knelt down before the wheelchair and expertly applied the K-Y to her palm and to my cock. Then she started giving me a handjob, her fist barely encircling my hard cock.

I couldn’t believe my luck was getting even better. A pretty nine year old brunette was giving me a handjob (excellent technique too, I might add) and only two blocks away I could still see the hustle and bustle of the farmer’s market. For the hundredth time, I inspected our immediate surroundings but the street was deserted.

I knew I should have held back and enjoyed it but it was just too much. After only a few minutes, I was ready to shoot my load. My cock was aching for release after five year old Veronica manhandled me back at the farmer’s market. Now Therese was finishing off what Veronica had started.

“Oh God…” I moaned, leaning back in the wheelchair. My crotch thrusted upwards slightly as Therese expertly jacked me off, using both hands to milk my hard cock. My white spunk spurted in a graceful arc before landing on her hands and wrists. The preteen girl never let go of my throbbing manhood as I slumped in the wheelchair, practically delirious with pleasure.

Therese kept going until the last milky drops were just dribbling from my cock. She stood up and examined her hands which were dripping with my semen trails. Since I had my relief, I zipped myself up just in case someone should happen by.

“Hey… Are you okay?” I asked Therese. The young girl was still staring at her hands and the cooling strands of white semen that adorned them.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly.

“Okay.” There was a long pause of post-sex awkwardness. “Can I ask you something?” I said finally. “Why did you do this?”

“He used to do the same thing,” Therese said, turning her head to gaze wistfully at nothing.

“He?” I clarified.

“My uncle,” she said. “Uncle Jamie.”

“What did he do with you?”

“The first time I touched him, it was an accident,” Therese said. “At least that’s what I thought. I was at his house, watching movies. He cut a hole in the popcorn bucket and stuck his penis in it. I accidentally grabbed it in the middle of the movie when I tried to get some popcorn.”

“Oh,” I said.

“It was like you and your stupid bananas,” Therese said, smiling a little.

“Oh,” I said again, not sure of what to say.

“Uncle Jamie used this same stuff,” Therese said, handing me my bottle of K-Y lube. “After that first time with the popcorn bucket, he showed me how to touch him. I was too young then to understand that he liked being touched like that. I thought it was just a game.”

“He made you…” I began, not knowing how to finish.

“He made me jack him off,” Therese said. “I was only five years old, just like that little girl at the market. I didn’t know what I was doing. It wasn’t until last year that I learned the game had a name. Jacking off. He never even told me how much he liked it.”

“So…” I said. “Why did you jack me off now?”

Therese looked away again. The sadness on her face was clear now. I could see tears in her eyes as her lip trembled. “It was all my fault,” she said, her voice breaking with deep sob.

“Therese,” I said gently, “what was your fault?”

“Uncle Jamie,” she said. “He went to jail because I told my mom about our game. I didn’t mean for him to go to jail! I didn’t know it was wrong!”

I was silent for a moment as Therese wrapped her arms around herself, miserable as her body was wracked with silent sobs. Her track jacket was getting smeared from the semen on her hands but I didn’t say anything.

“I miss him,” Therese said finally. “I wish he wasn’t in jail and I wish I never said anything to anyone.”

“It’s okay,” I told her lamely. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Therese wiped a sleeve across her cheek. “That’s why I won’t tell on you,” she said. “I should go now.”

Before I could say anything, she turned and swiftly walked away. I could have tried to follow her but I didn’t. I went back to the farmer’s market for the next several weekends (without the wheelchair of course) but I never saw Therese again. I hope she’s doing well.






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