A Collection of Short Stories Volume 2

                      by Tempest

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The material herein is fictional and is intended as ADULT entertainment. It contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. It contains themes of incest and underage sexual activities. If you are offended by (or it is illegal for you to read) sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT read any further. All characters in the story are fictitious; any similarity to any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone nor endorse any of the activities described in this story.
                                         HOME | SEX ONLY STORIES | ROMANTIC STORIES | FAQ | CONTACT ME | DONATE TO ASSTR
 

 

This is Volume 2 of my collection of short stories. Most of them are less than 4,000 or 5,000 words, but the occasional one may run over and a few are very short, less than 2,000 words. I will add new ones to the top of the index from time to time, and repost.

Here's a link to Volume 1

I hope you will enjoy them, and thanks for reading. Please fill out the comments section at the end, and let me know what you thought of them, as it gives me feedback as to what my readers like and don't like.

Thanks

Tempest


Story Index

Click on the title in the list below to jump that story.

NEW The Girl On The Train

 


The Girl On The Train

Mf 13, pedo, exhibitionist, ws (light), oral, con.
Jeff catches a glimpse of a young girl's knickers on the train ride home.
Word Count: 3,542
Date Published: February12 2018


I don't know how long I'd been looking at her—ten seconds, thirty seconds, a minute—I'd lost track of time. I was mesmerized by the sight of the small vee of lime-green in the tunnel formed by her dress and her slim thighs. She was seated opposite me on the train, reading a book. Earlier that day, I had been shopping for clothes in Birmingham; the train had left the dark-blue, glazed brick and smoke-stained steel rafters and roof of New Street station behind. The carriage rattled and lurched as the train trundled over the points, crossing three sets of tracks. I heard the sharp, shrill steam whistle as the train gathered speed with a rhythmic clattering as the wheels of the carriage crossed the small gap between each pair of rails—clackety-clack, clackety-clack, clackety-clack.

I was on my way home to Alvechurch, where I lived alone with my cat Leopold, and was seated in the Second Class carriage. The only other person in my compartment was the young girl whose knickers I was staring at. She was attractive, around eleven or twelve years old I guessed, with long auburn hair tied loosely at the nape of her neck. She had an oval face and pointed chin, with deep-blue eyes, a small nose and full lips. She wore a sleeveless, pale-blue summer dress that buttoned down the front, with white, knee-high socks and black court shoes.

I suddenly realized that she had looked up over her book at me staring up her dress. I felt heat in my cheeks, so I quickly looked out of the window. The lush English countryside rushed by, with its green fields, hedgerows and horse chestnut trees—as a boy, I used to collect their hard, shiny-brown fruit to play conkers with my friends. There were sheep grazing peacefully in a field next to the track, indifferent to the vision and noise of the train as it sped by. I glanced back at the girl and she had a small smile on her lips.

When she went back to reading her book, I stole a look up her dress again and noticed that she had widened her legs. I could now clearly see the crotch of her knickers. Is she coming on to me? What a stupid thought; eleven or twelve-year-old girls don't come on to men twice their age. As she heard the compartment door slide open, she quickly closed her legs.

"Tickets please," the conductor said as he walked into our compartment. I handed him mine; he punched a hole in the return portion and handed it back. He did the same for the girl's ticket. After he had left and closed the door, I looked at the girl again. Her legs were back open and they were now a little wider than before; I could definitely see a small camel toe in the front of her lime-green cotton knickers. She now had a definite smile on her face as she put her book aside. I could feel heat in my face again.

"Why did you get embarrassed looking at my knickers?" She said.

"I … I … I'm s–sorry miss," I replied, somewhat tongue-tied and stuttering slightly.

"You don't have to apologize," she said, still smiling. "I wanted you to look."

Good God, she was coming on to me after all. I sat there not saying anything—not knowing what to say.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Larry, it's Larry, my name's Larry," I blurted. What the hell's wrong with me? I'm acting like some stupid love-struck schoolboy.

"My name's Samantha," she said, "but you can call me Sam; most of my friends do. Where are you headed Larry?"

"Alvechurch," I replied. "I live there."

"You seem like a nice man Larry. You married? A girlfriend, maybe?"

"No, I'm not married and I don't have a girlfriend currently." I was finally starting to put coherent speech together. I wanted to find out more about this girl; I had never had a young girl come on to me before. Women, yes. I was fairly good-looking and was never lacking for a date or a roll under the sheets.

"How old are you Sam?" I asked.

"I'm thirteen," she replied. "How about you?"

"I'm twenty-seven. Do you always flash your knickers at men twice your age?"

"Not always. You're a very attractive man and you don't appear to be a serial rapist or an axe murderer," she replied with a giggle.

I had to chuckle. "So what does an axe murderer look like?"

"Oh, I don't know. Probably wears a hockey mask and carries an axe."

This girl's funny, I thought. "I think you've been watching too many horror movies," I suggested.

"Yeah, Mom says I have 'a fertile mind' is how she puts it."

"Okay, we've established I'm not an axe murderer—well, I could be; I could have left my ski mask and axe at home today."

She giggled again. For some reason I found her giggles to be very sexy.

"You're very funny Larry, and I like you."

"So, how do you know I'm not a serial rapist preying on vulnerable young girls who flash their knickers at me?"

"I've never met a serial rapist, but I think I could spot one if I did."

Warming to this repartée, I asked, "So, tell me, what else does your 'fertile mind' come up with?"

"Lots of things. Like, what would it feel like to be a man? I know my older brother wanks, I've seen him do it, so I wondered what it would be like to have a cock and wank."

"Interesting, I've never tried to imagine what it would feel like to be a woman. I guess you get a thrill from showing men your knickers. I could get the same kind of thrill from, say, flashing my cock at a girl."

"Is that what you want to do, pull your cock out of your trousers and flash me?"

"If we were somewhere more private I would." My cock was now fully erect and was straining at my trousers. I'm sure she could see the telltale bulge.

"But it wouldn't be as exciting as doing it here, would it? Knowing someone could look into this compartment as they passed by in the corridor," she said.

"I guess you're right," I replied.

Sam got up and slid open the compartment door; she looked left and right, then closed the door and quickly sat back down.

"Coast's clear, Larry," she said, "you'd better be quick."

God, she was right, this was exciting—I'd never done anything like this before. But, there again, I'd never had such a conversation before; a conversation rife with sexual overtones. I quickly unzipped my trousers, fished inside my briefs and pulled out my erect cock. Her eyes got wide as she stared at it. I quickly put it away and zipped back up.

"Was that exciting, or what?" She said.

"As a matter of fact it was," I replied, flushed with excitement and slight embarrassment.

"You've got a nice cock Larry."

"Well, how many have you seen?"

"Oh, about six or seven, but that doesn't include my older brother; his is a lot smaller than those were."

I gasped. "Six or seven! How did you manage to see that many at such a young age?"

"On a train or bus and sometimes in the park."

She lifted her dress and pulled the gusset of her knickers to one side, exposing the lips of her plump vulva. She had just a smattering of auburn hair.

I gasped.

"Like this," she said. She covered her pussy and pulled her dress back down. "Most men don't do anything; they just stare at my pussy. Some pulled their cocks out like you just did."

"Weren't you worried they would attack you?"

"Not really. If they tried to, and one man did, I would just grab the emergency cable up there," she said, nodding in the direction of an aluminium cup, with a steel cable running through it, set into the compartment wall above the outside window. "I didn't even have to pull it. Just my hand around the cable sent him running out the door."

"I must say Sam, you are the most interesting young girl I've ever met."

I felt the train start to slow. Looking out of the window, I saw a sign that said Barnt Green; I was one stop away from my station. The train stopped and I could hear the outside wooden doors open and close. Five minutes later, I heard the whistle of the stationmaster and the train jerked forward, stopped, jerked forward again and started to move. The compartment door slid opened, and an older couple came in and sat next to Sam. Ten minutes later, the train started to slow again. As it came to a stop in the station. Sam picked up her book and a bag I hadn't noticed earlier and rose.

"Come on Daddy," she said. "This is our stop."

I didn't say anything; I just picked up the bag of clothes I had purchased that morning and followed her off the train. She held my hand as we walked up Tanyard lane. I took a left turn into Brookside Close.

"Tell me, Sam, is this the first time you've gone home with a man?"

"No, you're the second—man, that is. I've had sex with a couple of boys from my school."

"So you're not a virgin then?"

"I'm not."

I unlocked the front door to my unimposing semi-detached house. All the houses on this street were built by the same builder—Wimpey homes. They were what's known as cookie-cutter homes: identical except for a few varied features. Some had an enclosed porch; some had different coloured front doors or a different brick.

I closed the door behind us. I still found it difficult to believe that a thirteen-year-old girl has had sex with a man and I don't know how many boys.

"Where's your loo? I gotta pee," she said.

I led Sam upstairs to the only bathroom and stood and watched as she kicked off her shoes, hoisted her dress above her waist and pulled down those lime-green knickers I had been admiring for the last half-hour. A strong stream of clear urine gushed out of her tight slit, splashing into the bowl. When she was finished, she grabbed a wad of toilet paper and dried herself. She got up and pulled her knickers back up. After flushing, she washed her hands and asked where my bedroom was. I walked into my bedroom where I started to get undressed; I kicked my shoes off first.

"No, let me," she said.

Sam stood in front of me, pulled my shirt out of my trousers and slowly unbuttoned it. She pulled it off and dropped it on a chair. My undershirt followed close behind. Next, she dropped to her knees and unbuckled my belt and pulled the zipper of my trousers down. I helped her take them off. My erection was poking at the front of my blue cotton briefs. As she pulled them down, my cock sprang out and almost hit her on the chin. She took it in her hand and examined it.

"Yes, most definitely a very nice cock," she said. "I've never seen one with a curve to it though. You want to undress me now?"

She stood back up and I undid each button of her dress in turn. When I got to the last one at the waist, she lifted her arms and I pulled the dress over her head. It joined my clothes. She had on a plain, white cotton, un-lined bra. I reached behind and unhooked the fastener. She let it fall off her arms; I caught it and hung it over the back of the chair.

Kneeling in front of her, I admired her breasts, two swells the size of half-lemons with slightly puffy areolas and small pink nipples. I kissed each one in turn.

"You've got gorgeous breasts Sam," I offered. I still couldn't get over the fact that a thirteen-year-old girl was semi-naked in my bedroom.

"Thanks, Larry, although I wish they would get bigger. I've been stuck in a 32A bra for what seems like forever."

"I like small breasts; they'll never sag and will always look perky like they are now."

I hooked my fingers inside the elasticized waistband of her bikini-cut, lime-green cotton knickers and tugged them over her hips, letting them fall to the floor. I couldn't help but gasp as I saw her vulva up close with its broad vee-shaped pad rising up between her bony hips. I thought that the little creases where her plump labia met her thighs was very sexy, as was her slit that was tightly closed, though the small ridge of her clitoral sheath showed.

"Let's get on the bed," I said.

Sam lay on her back with her legs open wide, offering her pussy to me. Her slit opened up to reveal a longish clitoral sheath with her little pink nubbin at the top and the dark opening to her vagina at the bottom. I could see clear liquid seeping out of her vagina. Lapping at it, I could taste her sweetness with a little tartness from where she had wiped herself after urinating. I liked the taste of her pussy.

I couldn't stay away from her clit any longer. I sucked it between my lips and swirled my tongue around it, causing her to catch her breath.

"You sure know how to please a girl, don't you Larry?"

"Mmm," I murmured as I continued to suck and lick her clit. I put both hands on her petite breasts and squeezed gently. Then I got a little rougher and pinched her nipples and pulled them.

"God yes," she cried. "You can do that all day long."

As I worked on her clit and breasts, I could feel her bum jerk and small spasms causing her legs to twitch; her orgasm was near. A few minutes later, it came crashing in.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god," she cried. I wondered if my neighbour Tom, who worked a night shift, could hear her. She wasn't exactly screaming but, God was she loud. I think she realized the noise she was making and pulled a pillow over her face to muffle her cries. She grabbed fistfuls of my hair, pulling my face into her now very wet pussy. Her bum came off the bed and she started bucking my mouth. This went on for a good minute. I had never fucked a woman who was as vocal as Sam as she orgasmed.

Finally, she relaxed as her orgasm waned. Small jerks of her bum or legs came and went like aftershocks. She pulled the pillow off her face and looked down at me. My face was wet with her juices.

"Oh, sorry," she said, "should have told you I get quite wet."

"That's okay," I said, "I kinda liked it."

"That was the most intense orgasm I've ever had."

"You mean the other fellas you had sex with didn't do what I just did?"

"Nah, all they wanted to do was fuck me. That one older chap was so worked up from seeing my pussy on the train, he shot his load into his Durex on the third stroke."

Damn! Condoms. I hadn't thought about getting condoms as I'd used the last ones just before my last girlfriend and I broke up.

"I'm sorry Sam, but I don't have any condoms."

"That's okay," she replied. "I just had my period so I'm safe."

"So you don't mind me cumming inside you?"

"Bloody heck no! I've only ever had unprotected sex once. It was with an older boy, and I loved the feeling of his stuff spurting inside me."

"Okay."

"C'mon, my turn to make you happy," she said, patting the mattress. I crawled up the bed and lay beside her. She leaned over me and started licking her juices off my lips, my chin and my cheeks. It was an extremely erotic experience. She lifted my cock off my stomach and lowered her mouth over its bulbous head.

"Mmmm, I love your cock Larry," she said in between sucking the end and licking the shaft from its root to its tip. She was very good. In fact, for a thirteen-year-old, she was incredible. She was giving me better head than Lisa, a thirty-nine-year-old woman I had fucked, and I thought she gave good head.

"I want you inside me," she said urgently.

For a thirteen-year-old girl, I was amazed at her sexual appetite. I obliged and got between her legs. She bent her knees and pulled her legs up beside her chest, causing her vulva to flower open for me. I grasped my cock and swiped its engorged head up and down her wet cleft, letting it rest on her pronounced perineum. She wasted no time; she took my shaft between her finger and thumb and pulled the head inside her. She was tight alright, but well lubricated, and as I pushed she took the whole of my average six inches inside her.

She moaned. "Oh gawd, that feels so good Larry. I love how the head of your cock slides against the front of my pussy. Having a nice curve to it really gives me a lot of pleasure, rubbing against my g-spot."

What the heck do thirteen-year-old girls know about g-spots? I thought. I was rapidly finding out that Sam was not your average thirteen-year-old. She draped her long, slim legs over my shoulders, letting me slide in deeper, bumping her cervix. That caused a loud gasp to escape her lips.

"God, I've never felt that before. What was it Larry?"

She must have been fucking boys with short dicks if none of them had ever bumped her end, I surmised.

"That's your cervix, the entrance to your womb," I told her.

"I love it; it feels so bloody good."

I started thrusting gently in and out of her very wet but tight pussy. It was like I was being jacked by a wet silk glove. The fact that I was fucking a thirteen-year-old girl who had just given me an incredible blow job, albeit not to conclusion, had aroused me so much that I was close to my climax.

"Almost there sweetheart," I murmured as I felt my scrotum tighten and pull my testicles up against my body. She was squeezing my forearms; my hands were on the mattress, supporting my weight. As my cock swelled and pulsed, I stopped thrusting. The first rope of cum spurted so hard it hurt. Then the second and third spurts flooded her pussy. The fourth took her over the top and she came hard again. I felt her hands tighten on my arms and her body shudder as she orgasmed.

I was done long before her orgasm was over. I lay on top of her, supporting my weight with my forearms, my head next to hers, feeling the hot puffs of her breath on my shoulder. Damn! I could fall for this girl big time.

With her orgasm finally over, I lifted up. She opened her eyes and smiled at me.

"Now that was good," she said. "I've never had two orgasms back-to-back before. I might just keep you around."

I chuckled. Then I saw she wasn't joking.

"I know, I know," she said. "It would never work would it?"

I just shook my head.

She sighed heavily. "What time is it?" she asked.

I looked at my old Timex wristwatch; it used to be my late father's. "It's four thirty-five," I told her.

"Got to go Larry," she said, with resignation in her voice.

I started to get up. "No, stay here for a bit," she said. "I can walk by myself to the station. I'll take the five o'clock to Redditch."

"Can I see you again?" I asked. It was more of a plea than a question.

"I don't know," she replied. "If Dad found out, he would beat me again."

I blinked. "Your father beats you?"

"Yes. I think it's because I won't let him do stuff with me."

"Your father wants to have sex with you?"

She didn't reply. Instead, I lay quietly watching her get dressed.

When she had finished dressing, and before I could say anything else, she kissed me on my lips and was gone. By the time I had gotten dressed and down to the station, the train had just pulled out. I watched it disappear leaving behind a trail of white steam and grey smoke.

I rode the same train for the next two weeks, but I never saw Sam again. Even though I only knew her for a few precious hours, she'd left a big hole in my life.

Back To Story Index OR Comment On This Story


 


If you wish to contact me direct then please click here: Email Me If you do please put the title of the story in the subject field.

Or use the form mail below:

Or return to my home page here.

Thanks

Tempest



 

 


This story is a work of pure fiction. The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons under the legal age of consent. This story is copyright protected.
(C) Copyright 2018 by Tempest. ALL Rights Reserved! This material may NOT be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the author. You may download them for your own personal use, but if you wish to post them on other websites, please get my permission beforehand.

2 12 18