She was nine when I moved in, a spidery little kid, all gawky and self-conscious as only a city kid can be. And she was bright and sweet and unaffected. She was the landlord's daughter, and the fact that such a neat kid would be in my new apartment building was one reason I took the place.
The trouble started three years later.
"Hi. This is Angie."
(As if I might not recognize her voice. Sure, she'd been less likely to spend time chatting with the old guy on the fourth floor in the last year -- especially the last few months -- but that was okay. And her voice was immediately recognizable, nonetheless.)
"I have to do this paper for school on volcanoes and I was wondering if it would be okay if I looked at some of the books you have."
(She knew about the book collection, because she'd seen it.)
"So, like, if it's no hassle, let me know when you get a chance, okay? The paper is due Monday. Thanks."
(I was listening to the recording on my answering machine on Thursday night.)
On my way out the next morning, I slid a note under the door of the owner's apartment saying Saturday, around noon, would be fine. My Main Squeeze was out of the country on vacation and if Angie needed more time or help, Saturday would be no problem.
I made a mental note to clean up the place when I got home from work Friday night -- I like to sleep in on Saturdays -- so it would be presentable when Angie came up to raid the books. I had several books on volcanology -- it fascinated me when I was in my twenties -- as well as the encyclopedia (Britannica).
In truth, I was delighted that I had stuff that could help a good, bright kid get a solid grade. Really. That was it. I mean -- sure, the baby fat was melting away and a very pretty girl was emerging, but she was still very much A Kid, so nothing else occurred to me.
This is, I was later to learn, a sign of encroaching senility.
Saturday afternoon, 12:10 p.m., there's a knock at the door. I'm mostly awake. I've had two cups of The Elixir of Life (a.k.a., "coffee") and a bowl-and-a-half of Borkum Riff. This is as awake as I should ever *have* to be at ten after noon on a Saturday.
Angie. Telling me how much she appreciates my help and many promises not be a problem and cute as can be in her HUGE oversized sweatshirt and spray-on Gitanos. I note -- not being dead -- that she has a very cute and sexy and well-formed butt inside that denim and tell myself that somewhere out there in Brooklyn, Queens or the rest of the Tri-State Metropolitan Area, there is an incredibly lucky 12- or 13-year-old boy who doesn't know that this butt has his name on it -- or will.
I simply smiled and told her of my genuine pleasure at her use of the books and pointed to the living room, which is where the Library Wall lives and lived. For myself, I planned to finish that second pipe- bowl and drink more coffee. Lot's of More Coffee. (This is a prescribed response to going out for "a couple" of beers with journalist-friends on Friday night.) I suggested she open the windows wide, if she liked, since it was a typical Weird April and the temperature was already near 75 degrees, and the smell of the pipe might bother her.
"Oh, I really like the way it smells!"
Which is one of the reasons I like kids. They think pipes are neat, usually. They are fascinated by the little rituals of the pipe -- the packing with rich, savory tobacco, the careful double-lighting, the tamping of the tobacco.
Angie started with the Brit-3 (logical) and soon had four volumes scattered on the floor. I went on-line and picked up some E-Mail packets. While I was downloading, I refilled the More Coffee Cup. Came back in and started answering mail, then looked up to find her watching me. Great big hazel eyes and sun-lightened hair falling in riotous curls around her rounded, pretty face. Very pretty face. Looking at Angie, it was easy to understand why the first Spaniards in the New World had been smitten by the Aztec women (Angie's folks are from Ecuador and Puerto Rico).
"The encyclopedia is great, but we're not supposed to just use one book or encyclopedia."
"No problem." I stood and padded, barefoot, behind her into the living room. Barely 12, Angie was small even for that -- maybe 4-foot-6 -- and not even the luscious twitching of her butt in the Gitanos could dispel the awareness that she was a kid. A smart, pretty -- maybe even sexy -- kid. But a kid. I kept telling myself that as I stood, towering behind her, in front of the stacks and pulled books for her. I had several on volcanology, tectonic plates and morphology.
In the meantime, volumes of Brit-3 were scattered all over the living room floor, with a liberal leavening of pages from her notebook covered with semi-legible scrawls.
Naturally, though she was supposed to do the research and writing on the paper, it took a good -- oh, fifteen minutes before I was crawling around the living room floor with her, finding and marking passages that would be useful and relevant.
Crawling around on the floor is precisely when the trouble started. I was just riffling the pages of THE HOLE IN THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA (about Project MoHo) for a useful explanatory section when I looked up and found myself confronted with her jean-clad butt. She was crouched over something else, reading, but as she read she was moving that cute, round little ass in small circles.
I was wearing an old sweatshirt and a pair of nine-year-old jeans and nothing else. Seeing her hard little ass, the way the denim of the jeans crept between her cheek and the split of her cunt and -- oddly, most of all -- the little line of bare flesh just above her waist, where her shirt had crept up...well, it was instant, embarrassing boner time.
This was a KID, fer cryin' out loud!
I cleared my throat and said, "Angie, please sit on the couch or something."
"Waving your butt in front of my face is a bit awkward for me." (Yes, I really do talk that. Sue me.)
Now she leaned her head back and turned to look at me over her shoulders, hazel eyes bright with mischief and mirth. "What's the matter, Dave? Too hot for ya?" She wiggled for effect.
"That -- and too young. Stop it."
She arched her back and swiveled her butt still more. "You mean this? Or what?"
"Or I'll take a great big bite out of your ass."
She giggled and flashed me a Dare You look and thrust her butt back at me.
I reached out with both hands, grabbed her denim-clad hips, leaned forward and bit lightly on her right cheek. Very lightly, since the denim was tight and her ass flesh was tighter, leaving no excess to grip.
Angie squealed and shivered slightly, so I bit the other butt-cheek.
"Ooooh -- you'll never get me to stop that way!"
I squeezed her hips and she shivered again. "Maybe the jeans are too tight," she said and I heard a click -- followed by a zzzzzip! The jeans loosened. Then they began to slide down.
"What the hell -- stop it, Angie!"
"Uh-uh. I know what I'm doing and I know what I want." Jeans still sliding -- pink rayon was coming into view -- and her voice suddenly softer and huskier.
"What do you want?"
"What your girlfriends get that makes them moan and scream so loud that I can hear them down in my bedroom."
Shit. I'd thought that with the window and drapes closed and the pillow as a muffler, the cries wouldn't be audible -- certainly not all the way down the airshaft to the second floor bedroom of an over-sexed, barely pubescent pre-teen.
"And you think you're ready for this?"
The jeans reached the back of her thighs. There was a growing wet spot in the tight crotch of the tight pink panties (which had a little yellow heart on one side). She was certainly ready physically.
"You bet my ass, I'm ready," she murmured.
"Convince me." My hands trembled as I took them off her lithe, rounded little hips.
I knelt up straight and she turned to sit on that cut butt, staring at me as she skinned the jeans the rest of the way off.
"Go into my bedroom, take off your clothes, lay on the bed and masturbate."
"What -- "
"I'll come in and watch you. If you're ready for this, then you sure as hell won't mind me seeing you rub yourself."
She stood slowly, knees quivering. "Promise?"
I nodded. She nodded back, then stepped around me, shapely young legs flashing inches from my eyes, and headed for my bedroom.
I stayed there for a long five minutes, contemplating what I was getting into. Something too young, yet obviously mature enough to know what she wanted. My cock, however, was contemplating only one thing and it won the debate.
Slowly, I stood and went into the bedroom. She lay atop the covers, naked, eyes closed, one hand moving between her rounded thighs, the other toying with the small mounds of her breasts and the stiff little spikes of her nipples. Her hips were rocking slightly and the aroma of her juices was rich in the room.
She opened her eyes and slowly focused on me. "You promised..."
I shucked my clothes quickly. She watched avidly. I stretched out next to her on the bed. "Have you done this before?"
"With a boy? No."
"It'll hurt, the first time."
"No it won't. I had an accident on a bike a long time ago." Her eyes unfocused and she moaned. Her hand was moving faster between her legs. "Pleease, don't make me wait..."
I leaned down and kissed her soft, sweet lips. She may not have fucked before, but she sure as hell had done some practicing kissing. Her lips were demanding and her tongue was expert and she savored the kiss as much as I did. When I finally broke it off, I started kissing the line of her jaw, then her ears and finally started working down over her soft throat and chest.
Her hand went to the back of my head, guiding my mouth to her little tits. They were unbelievably sweet and vulnerable, so small and fresh. Her skin was smooth and very, very firm. Her nipples were hot and when she felt me take on into her mouth, gently sucking and then tonguing, she gasped and pulled my face down fiercely onto her young boob.
At the same time, I moved one hand down over her belly, caressing her abdomen and hips and thighs. She was short enough that I could easily reach all the way down her constantly moving legs to her taut calves. When my fingertips trailed up the inside of one quivering thigh, she gasped and hunched down at my hand. I evaded.
"C'mon, c'mon, touch me..." she moaned. "Make me get over!"
My lips followed the trail blazed by my wandering hand. She had both hands on my head, fingers twined in my hair as my lips descended first on one hip, then the other. I trailed my tongue down to the unlined crease of her thigh and traced it almost to her pussy. The fragrance was incredible -- clean and rich and sweet.
She opened her thighs wider and tried to trap my head between them. I used both hands to hold them apart as I repositioned myself between her legs, belly down and ready for lunch.
There wasn't a hair on her mound and the tiny slit, though glistening, was pink and swollen. Her clitoris, fully engorged, protruded cleanly above the petite labia.
I blew softly across the tightly pressed lips and she gasped loudly and tried to drag my mouth onto her. I let her win that one -- gradually. I licked the tip of my tongue around and around the compressed lips of her fledgling cunt and only slowly drew the spirals in.
When I pressed my tongue flat against her cunt and licked slowly up, she began to hump at me and grunt rhythmically. When the tip of my tongue caught the underside of her swollen clit, she began to moan -- loudly. And when I finally flicked over her tiny trigger. She whined and came. And she came hard, grinding her cunt down on my mouth so I could feel her pulsing.
I worked my hands under butt and grabbed -- and covered -- one perfect cheek with each hand. I held her up to my mouth and let my tongue go nuts on her. She came again and then again, her whines getting louder and more prolonged and sometimes almost intelligible words. I ate her for as long as I could stand it.
There was one more step to get her completely caught up in her own lusts, though. I withdrew my hands from under her clenching little ass and placed one finger at the entrance of her cunt. Slowly, carefully, I pried open her lips and found the tiny opening. She was unbelievably wet, but also unbelievably tight. And hot.
As I kept licking at her, I rotated my hand and eased my finger inside her, palm up. Her cunt clenched on my finger and she emitted a soft scream of pleasure as she rammed her hips down onto the digit. She immediately started a fucking motion, pausing ever few seconds to cum again -- holding her self all the way down and contracting her cunt violently on my finger.
I moved the fingertip inside her and put my other hand on her abdomen, just above her bare little pubis. I pushed down with the hand and felt the swollen, pulsing bundle of nerves on the upper part of her vagina with the inserted finger -- and began massaging.
"OH SHIT!" she screamed and then she really began cumming. Uncontrollable spasms of pleasure wracked her small body. Her scream was suddenly muffled -- she had grabbed a pillow for the purpose -- but intensified in strength and tone as I continued to massage her G-spot and lick her swollen clitoris. Her belly muscles rippled and her cunt spasmed wildly, milking the finger, as she came.
I kept it up for a few more minutes and she never so much as paused in her orgasms. When I finally withdrew the finger and stopped the oral ministrations, she lay tensed and still cumming on the bed. After a few seconds, she calmed to an occasional shudder of pleasure and limply pushed the pillow off her face. Her eyes were wet and her cheeks were damp. There was a small spot of blood on her lower lip where she had bitten it.
She managed to focus her open, crazed eyes on me as I knelt between her legs. Her lips moved, but no words came out at first. She swallowed loudly and finally whispered, "I never imagined I could get over like that! I feel like it's still happening!" She sounded amazed. "How did you learn to *do* that?"
"Extensive research and all the practice I could get. Ready for part two?"
I shuffled forward on my knees between her shaking thighs, old Mr. Pecker leading the way.
"I don't want to get pregnant..." she whispered.
"But I don't want to, you know, catch anything."
"Tested and cleared for all diseases. Relax, Angie; do you really think I'd take a chance with either?"
She shook her head slightly. "No, it's just last-minute jitters."
I reached down to slide one finger over her tiny pussy and she shook again.
"Get in me, please," she whispered, eyes closing, legs opening and raising toward me.
I leaned over her and guided my prick to the vulnerable little slit and was suddenly beset with doubts. She was so small! Even my average- size cock looked too big for her labia, let alone the tiny opening I knew was inside.
But as soon as the knob was against her, she began swiveling those narrow hips, with their meager traces of lingering baby-fat, trying to screw her cunt onto my dick. Her legs went around my waist and she started humping herself up at me.
I worked my glans into the grip of her tiny pussy lips, the put my hand under tautly upturned little ass. I pressed into her gently, rotating my hips to find the angle and the opening.
Suddenly, she groaned out an "Uh-huh! Uh-huh!" and pulled at me fiercely. I took this as a hint and pressed harder and felt an unreal constriction begin at the head of my cock. Bit by tortuous bit, I was sliding into her, the tiny pussy hard and tight around me. The knob suddenly was all the way into the miniature opening and we both groaned.
She looked up at me and asked, "Is it all the way in?" Then she looked down and saw there was plenty more. "Oh, damn, more-more-more..." She began bucking her hips up at me while her hands came up around my neck. She was trying to pull me into her and pull her onto me. I did my best to help.
Slowly, so very damned slowly, I sank into her a little more, then pulled back and pushed again. I saw her tiny, swollen pussy lips stretched thin around my shaft. Her cunt lips seemed to implode each time I pressed into her. She seemed to be loosening inside, but not a hell of a lot.
When three-quarters of my dick was buried in her, I pulled back almost all the way -- and pounded into her as hard as I could. Once. It must have taken fifteen seconds, but I finally got all the way into her. I felt something inside her lurch against the end of my constricted cock and she gasped as her pussy was pushed deep enough to take all of me. I felt her petite pubis against the bony ring at the base of my cock and I ground against her -- and then felt her cunt begin spasming.
It was like rings of muscle rippling the length of my dick. It felt like her cunt was sucking at me. I knew I wasn't going to last long in this little twat's grip. I began working my dick back and forth in her taking it out halfway, then pressing back in and tightening my muscles to make my dick twitch inside her at its deepest.
Slowly, she began rocking in motion with me and then she started rocking and rolling, her hips pumping demandingly. The moans began again and quickly became soft screams. I handed her the pillow and she clutched it to her face and started wailing again.
"I want to get really deep in you, Angie," I said as I pumped her. "Really deep."
She howled into the pillow.
I paused and untangled her legs. With my dick still locked halfway into her, I shifted her legs and repositioned her on her side, with me straddling one small thigh. I pulled her other, upper knee up till her thighs was against her abdomen. I could feel her tighten and shorten on my cock. I reached between her legs with one hand and put my palm over that magic spot just above her pubis. With the other hand, I pressed her cheeks, right over her tiny anus. Then I picked her up in my hands and began ramming.
Her screams this time were purely animal as she came and came. I was holding her off the bed and fucking her up and down on my cock as I jack-hammered my hips at her. Her legs and arms were completely limp and whenever she paused for breath in her screaming, I could hear her tiny pussy sucking at my pistoning cock. She was cumming non-stop, now, completely possessed by orgasm, and when I finally slipped the tip of my index finger into her little asshole, she lost it. Her limp arms and legs quivered uncontrollably and her cunt seemed to be in one, long spasm. I could feel the contractions through her belly, as well as on my cock and the butt-reaming finger.
My balls tightened and the buzz spread through my crotch. My dick swelled in her and I jammed it to the limits and held it there. Her tightness squeezed me so much that I came in one prolonged, almost agonizingly restricted stream. She screamed all the louder and tried to hunch herself harder against me, as if to seal me inside her frantic pussy. It felt like she was siphoning the cum out of me, and the admixture of her juices and my hot semen was bathing my cock in sensations I'd never known before.
When the last of it was out of my cock, she was still grinding against me, getting the last pleasures as my dick very, very slowly receded inside her. I lowered her hips gently to the now-rumpled bedcovers and slowly withdrew my finger from her newly violated back door. I removed the pillow and carefully shifted until she was stretched out on her side, in the cradle of my arms. We nestled like spoons, my cock still trapped in her twitching little pussy. I leaned over and kissed her ear and the side of her face. Her cheeks were wet and she was sobbing. With each sob, her cunt contracted on me and her belly rippled under the hand cradling it; I knew they were sobs of pleasure.
"You are so beautiful and sexy," I murmured. "And you made me feel fantastic. That was so beautiful, seeing and feeling you cumming like that. I love it."
"I never knew..." she began. "I feel totally wasted, yet, still like, buzzed, you know? Is it -- do you always make it feel so good all those ways?"
"I try, baby, I try. And there are a lot more ways."
"Yeah, and I want 'em all."
"With you on top of me and sucking each other at the same time --"
"I want to learn how to do that with my mouth, make you feel that good."
"Sounds good to me. And there's other openings, too."
"I never knew it could feel so good to have something in my ass! Wouldn't it hurt to have a dick up there?"
"It shouldn't, if we do it slowly, and carefully, and gently -- would you like that?"
"I want to try it. Would you like it?"
My cock lurched inside her at the thought. She clenched down on me and giggled softly. "Yeah, I guess you would..."
"But right now, we cuddle. And then we finish your paper."
"Oh, I finished it Tuesday -- when I knew my folks would be away this weekend and your girlfriend would still be out of town."
"You planned this? Like that?"
She turned her bright, womanly, lovely 12-year-old face to me and smiled hazily. "What do you think, lover?"
I kissed her and we softly dozed off together, wrapped up in each other's arms and closeness.
Young Angie - Part 2
When I woke, the light was already softening; evening was hurrying. I knew exactly where I was and who I was holding and I was starting to have second thoughts about this whole situation. I was, after all, laying in my bed with my (re-stiffening) cock buried in a 12-year-old. She was still nestled, spoon-style in my arms and one horny hand was cupping her small, left tit. The other arm held her from beneath.
I looked at her face in profile and realized just how beautiful she really was -- and how young. Not a young woman, not kid-young -- somehow, child-like. Her face was so innocent in repose! Yet I couldn't feel like a defiler. She'd enjoyed -- no, she'd craved and enjoyed -- what she'd done with me, and she slept the sleep of satiation.
Something in the way her incredibly long, thick lashes slumbered against the lingering baby-fat of her cheek made her seem more vulnerable than any human could possibly be. Twelve. I tried to remember what my mindset had been in my twelfth year. JFK's assassination was a year in the future. The Mets still played in the Polo Grounds, while Mantle and Maris were cranking out homers with awesome regularity the year after Roger took the Babe's record. Only a fortunate few had ever heard of Dr. King. Stephen King had not yet dreamed of word processors. Subway tokens cost fifteen cents. Cars had anal and dorsal fins. Porterhouse steak was 89 cents a pound. There was no crack, no AIDS, no Uzi's being toted by myopic 14-year-old kids in Bushwick. No Saddam, no Ayatollah and the Beatles hadn't hit, yet. No Viet Nam. I hadn't taken a life, yet.
Twelve. Innocent. Whacking off in the bathroom to Miss November. Drooling over Carol's knobs. (That's what we called them.) Copping a feel on the back of the arm by brushing against a girl's boob -- that was our idea of sexuality at twelve.
I looked at that vulnerable, sleeping, trusting and lusting young woman-child-girl making a sound that might have qualified as a snore if "snore" weren't such a loud, harsh word compared with her soft, sweet sound, and I suddenly understood what had provided the mysterious super- vitamins or hormones that had enabled our -- hers, mine, your -- ancestors to render extinct the auroch -- the 14-foot-tall saber-toothed cave bear -- 50,000 years before the invention of the Winchester: I would never let anyone, anything, anywhere harm her. In any way. Even if the offender killed me, I would come back from the pit of Hell to go after the mofo again. And again. As necessary. The auroch had threatened such as her; the auroch is no more.
Now I understood.
As I stared at her, she stirred, lusciously, in my arms. Her eyes were briefly unfocused, then her gaze betrayed uncertainty -- but never fear. Here I was, almost three decades older than her, my history- ignorant cock locked inside her, and she was still trusting.
Bring on them aurochs -- and light a candle for the suckers.
"Hi," she whispered.
The eyelashes brushed the cheeks again, then fluttered butterfly- lovely up. "Exhausted, wonderful, happy, safe...loved?"
I kissed the nearest eyelid. "In a very real way, but not in the let's-get-married-way."
She laughed lightly, more than a giggle and less than a guffaw. "No kidding." The eyes de-focused for a moment, then: "It feels good having you still inside me." She pulled the boob-cupping hand close, then ducked her young, innocent face down and kissed it. "I used to... masturbate imagining what it would be like. You know what my favorite part of the fantasy was?"
"Waking up, cuddled."
"Cuddled," she confirmed, snuggling herself deeper into the cradle of my arms. "Is it always like this?"
"It should be."
She hugged me inside her. "I want to do this again -- lots!"
"But it will never be the same as the first time."
She pondered that, "After waiting and dreaming and thinking about it for so long... No. Never the same. Wanna hear something funny?"
"How'd you guess?"
"Ummm...I am, too?" I nibbled lightly on her shoulder. Her nipple, already hardening, was suddenly rigid in my palm and her cunt squeezed me.
"You feel so big and hard inside me...and getting bigger and harder." Her breathing was becoming very shallow and her eyes half- closed.
I moved my hips a little, pushing my dick deeper into her tight little pussy. She sighed deeply and shivered slightly in my arms. When I slowly pulled back, the tight fit created a suction. I slid my hand down lower and lightly rubbed her clit and she began grunting and shaking and rolling her lithe, young hips around.
I rolled her onto her stomach. She arched her taut, round young ass up at me, maintaining her pussy-lock on me. I was on all four's above her, my thighs outside hers, my elbows outside her shoulders -- keeping my weight completely off her. I began pumping slowly in and out of her -- and then suddenly drove into her as deeply as I could. With her legs together as they were, her narrow cunt was even tighter. When she came, it tightened still more and seemed bent on milking my cock. She was tossing her head from side to side on her neck, her hair flying as she sobbed into the pillow and pushed her little ass up all the more urgently at my cock.
Suddenly, I pulled out of her. She was still cumming as I rolled her onto her back. I took her ankles in my hands and raised and parted her legs. Her eyes were crazed and her lovely face, half-covered by her totally disheveled hair, was contorted with pleasure. Her nipples looked ready to burst, they were so swollen. I shifted my grip lower and rolled her back onto her shoulders, then jacked both hands under her. I dropped flat on the bed with my face between her upturned legs and fastened my mouth on her still-quivering pussy.
The effect was cataclysmic. As soon as my tongue hit her hugely engorged clitoris, she let loose a shrill whine so high-pitched I feared for the glassware in the house. Her juicy pussy clenched so tightly that she began to expel the brew of our mutual sauces right into my mouth -- not exactly spurts, but a steady oozing. I didn't mind the taste of semen (my own, fresh, that is) but her cunt wine was so delicious that I just wanted to drink her dry. If she could ever run dry.
Her climax was so strong that I didn't even mind the interruption of her velvet-vice little cunt on my achingly hard dick. This was just too tasty to pass up -- not to mention that she was cumming so hard, it was very possible I was going to shoot off out of sympathy, sort of a "contact cum," I guess.
After a few minutes of this, I could tell from her movements that it was becoming a bit uncomfortable to be rolled into a 12-year-old ball of orgasm. I lowered her tiny ass to the bed and crawled up to hold her again. She shivered as if she were cold and kept jerking against me, abrupt half-doubling-up movements. One of these brought her thighs against my cock and her eyes widened slightly.
"You didn't get over," she breathed. Her voice was raspy.
"Not yet. There's time for that. I just wanted to enjoy making you cum like that -- "
"I want to make you cum, too, with my mouth," she clutched me and began kissing my chest and shoulders.
"You might not like the taste of your juices mixed with mine."
"You didn't mind -- "
I was about to tell her how much I enjoyed it but she was too quick for me. She reached down, sank a finger into her cunt -- hissing softly at the penetration -- and then put the sticky, slippery finger into her mouth. I almost came at the sight of this lovely ninth-grader sucking a finger covered with my cum and her pussy sauce into those soft, full lips.
"Tastes...kind of sharp and sweet." She smiled at me seductively and did a decent job of it, too. "I could get to like it."
She pushed at my shoulder till I got the message and rolled onto my back. The dick stuck almost straight up, throbbing in time with my pulse. And anticipation, no doubt.
She slithered down over me. We were both pretty well coated with perspiration and other Slippery Excretions. The sensation of her lithe, tautly curved, fresh young body sliding over me was exquisite. So were the little kisses and the way she swiped with her tongue.
She positioned herself straddling my right leg with her face at dick level. I suggested she turn around so we could do each other.
"Another time." She kissed my thigh, right near the crease. "I want to concentrate my first time doing this. What should I do?" She gripped the base of my dick with her small hand and squeezed. I groaned. She knew it was pleasure. She smiled and tossed her hair back with a rambunctious move of her head.
"Kiss and lick it," I managed to breath. "And whenever you're ready, just kind of slip it into you mouth -- suck it in the way you would suck in a piece of spaghetti."
She tinkled at that. "Some piece of spaghetti!" she intoned in a false-basso voice.
Then she turned her head at an angle, leaned forward and kissed the side of my cock. She did it again and then again, moving up and down the length. She tried variations, letting the tip of her tongue part her lips and twirl lightly against my dick, and or doing little lip-nibbles along the underside.
I could feel her juice running out of her pussy, onto my leg. I could feel one nipple spiking into my thigh. I knew she was as excited by this as I was. Well, maybe not as excited as I was, but it was certainly turning her on.
I asked anyhow.
"I like how hard and hot it feels and I really like the way it kind of jumps and jerks when I make it feel good."
Then she raised her head and kissed my glans. Her lips opened slightly and her tongue began moving slowly on the sensitive flesh. Her eyelids were slowly closing and her little ass moved as she shifted her hips, restless. She very, very slowly pushed more of it into her mouth, sucking very hard all the way. I felt like my balls were going to melt or explode or shatter. She took about three inches before she reached her limit, then slowly sucked her way back off. She let the knob come out of her mouth with an audible *pop* before looking up at me.
Her face was a study in lust.
"Am I doing good?"
I reached down and caressed her face. She turned her mouth to kiss my palm, then looked back into my eyes.
"Angie," I said, and was surprised at how rusty my voice sounded. "Angie, take this as it is meant -- you may be the best, sweetest, natural-born cocksucker in history. I'm no teenager -- hell, I'll be thirty-four this year --- just came very hard in you less than an hour ago and you damn near made me cum in your mouth the first time you sucked me. Are you sure you never did this before?"
She smiled. "I'd probably have noticed."
Her eyes slowly closed and then reopened, halfway. "I love it. I wish I could swallow it all."
My dick throbbed at that.
"Don't even try it yet. You'll gag."
"I know." She seemed to resent it. She leaned forward and I watched her lick the tip of my dick. I almost screamed at the sensation.
She said, "When you get ov-- when you cum, what should I do? I mean, I hear it's better if I keep it in my mouth, but should I just suck, or suck up and down or jerk on you or what?"
"Anything, everything. Whatever you like. It'll feel great to me."
She smiled again, a cat-ate-the-canary smile. "I wanna suck you dry," she murmured and returned her mouth to my cock. She did what she'd done before, but this time she didn't release my dick on the upstroke. Instead, she suddenly began bobbing her head, sucking furiously and noisily. Then she slowed the movements. Then she lip-nibbled my glans and all around the little scar tissue left over from circumcision. Then she returned to the rapid bobbing-suck, this time moving her head around into different angles.
When she reached up with one hand to lightly cup my balls, it was Game Time.
"Oh, geez, yeah, I'm --- AAAAAhhhhhh!" Or something intelligent like that.
As soon as she heard me and felt my cock swelling, Angie took me to her limit again. Her lips tightened and I could see her baby-fat cheeks concave as she sucked, literally sucked, the cum out of my cock.
I thought my entire genital area had melted. I felt an incredibly wonderful numbness spreading in my balls as the first long spurt surged into her mouth. I was totally limp otherwise, incapable of movement.
Then she swallowed noisily and sucked for more. She got it. The second shot was even stronger than the first and the pleasure was more intense. I swear, my balls were jerking so tightly I thought they were going to burrow back into my abdomen. Then she swallowed again and sucked for still more.
There was more. I fired again and thought I could hear her making an "Mmmmm" noise as I flooded her little mouth. With the hand on my dick she jerked down toward my abdomen, hard and demanding. She swallowed and kept sucking and jerking. I must have shot off four or five more times, with diminishing quantity, before she finally got the last of it. My cock was softening in her mouth and she used it as an opportunity to get more cock in her mouth. She used her tongue to dandle it, flipping my dick back and around -- and still sucking.
I felt as if I had never cum before in my life. It was like that first great orgasm, totally overwhelming. I was still buzzing from the pleasure when I managed to mumble, "C'mere."
She slithered quickly back up to me. She looked a little unsure at first, but then pressed her spermy lips to mine. I pulled her tighter to me and we kissed wetly and passionately. I could feel her torso undulating against me and ran my hand down her slim back, over the precious narrowness of her hips, across the impossibly hard, tiny mounds of her ass and let Badfinger rest on her cunt. I reached a little farther and found her clit and Bang! -- just like that, she came, writhing as she kissed me.
When she finally relented and nuzzled into my neck, she whispered, "I did pretty good, huh?"
"Honey, I don't think I've ever been sucked better. That was one of the best orgasms of my life. And you know what made it even better?"
"Um-um," she um-umed into my neck.
"I could tell you were enjoying it."
She pulled her head back and looked at me. "I really did. I liked feeling you move, so hard and thick and all in my mouth and the way you swelled up even more and then I could tell how good it felt for you when I was sucking you down and the way your stuff just fired into my mouth -- oooo!"
I wondered if she was going to cum again.
"How'd you like the taste?"
She made a face. "That, I'm not crazy about. Or really, the..."
She brightened. "Yeah! If it was thicker or thinner, but just in between..." Then she looked worried. "I don't mean to hurt your feelings!"
"Don't worry about it."
"Really, the taste wasn't bad, just the consistency. Kind of salty, though."
"When a guy cums a couple of times in a row, the first one is going to be thicker."
"Oh, yeah?" And I could almost hear her turning that one over in her head: So, the next time, suck him off first, and then fuck him.
She snuggled down against me again, then suddenly bobbed up. "And it made me so hot! I almost wish we could do it again right away, you know, you inside me."
"I need a little recovery time."
"Me, too." She snuggled down again, then the head came right back up. "You know Leslie, my friend, the really pretty blonde?"
"Just to say hello; I know who she is." And who she was. Leslie was this cute, slender 13-year-old who, in the last six months, had either been taking Huge Tit pills or who had divided a melon and had the halves grafted to her chest.
"Well, Leslie, you know, does it with her boyfriend and the way she talks, it's like this chore you have to do to get a boyfriend who has a car. Hell, this is fun!"
"I like to hope so."
"I should tell her what it's like to make it with a man, not some kid and she'd -- "
"Cripes, Angie, don't even think about it. Do you have any idea what would happen to me?"
"You'd get in trouble, right?"
"I'd be killed."
"You are twelve years old. I would go to jail for statutory rape, at best. I'd be known as a baby-raper -- inside, they call it 'short eyes.' I would be killed by the other convicts. Killed ugly. Very ugly. Angie, you can kill me -- if you tell anyone."
She looked truly concerned. "You mean it, don't you? It really scares you?"
"Even though I wanted you to do it? You'd still -- "
I nodded again.
I kissed her forehead. "You are a very, very rare young woman. You are smart, poised, wise and mature beyond your years. Way beyond. And I know you're a loving and trustworthy person. And I still hesitated before coming in here to make love with you, even though I was so hot for your sexy body so much that my balls hurt. If you were Leslie -- "
"With her big tits."
"Yours are perfect. If you were Leslie with her big tits, I wouldn't have let her in the door. I might have loaned her the books, but I wouldn't so much as shaken her hand. You're very different and very special."
She made a face. "Yeah, like if Leslie came up here and said she wanted you to, uh, fuck her brains out, you'd turn her down."
"I'd slam the door in her face."
She stared at me. Then: "You really mean it."
"I'm trusting you, which I don't do much, and I'm trusting you with my life, which I pretty much never do. Yes, I damn well mean it."
She kissed my face, all over, dozens of times, and whispered, "I would never, ever, do anything that would even take the littlest chance of hurting you in the smallest way. Never."
I hugged her to me, because she'd just said what I already knew. We cuddled like that, all entangled, for a long time. After a little of it, I felt her breath slow and her little body relax and fit itself to mine. I was lightly caressing her and marveling at her loveliness and tiny perfection, when I dozed off, too.
But not for long.