The Time Traveler's Romance
'This is an entry in the ATF Story Writing Contest 2024/II. The story is posted by the organizer. The actual author of the story will remain anonymous until at least the end of the contest.
August 1, 1986
Sitting at the end of the rustic dock, the pretty little girl swings her thin legs back and forth; her bare toes skim the cool lake water. The sun warms her perfect skin. Hopefully, she won’t get a sunburn on the areas that aren’t covered by her favorite bathing suit, the one with the pretty flowers. She’s reasonably tan, so she’ll probably be okay. A shadow covers the rough wood beside her. She smiles up at the tall man with the wire-rimmed glasses. He hands her a metal tumbler filled with ice and lemonade, perfect for the hot summer day.
“I love the summer house,” the man says, looking out over the lake. “I just wish I’d come here more often, like I did when I was younger.”
“I still don’t think you’re a time traveler, mister,” the blonde pixie says. “You’re just teasing.”
The Time Traveler chuckles. “Okay. Then, how do I know stuff? I know your name is Joy, and your mom is Millie. I know you’re going into second grade at the end of summer vacation.”
The little girl scowls. “Anybody could know that stuff,” she says. “Of course I’m going into second grade. I’m seven and a half. Seven and a half is when you go to second grade. Everybody knows that. It doesn’t prove anything.”
The Time Traveler laughs again. He sets his lemonade on the dock and gives a slight groan as he folds his tall body downwards to sit next to the child on the dock. “Yes, very true,” he says. He runs his hand through brown hair that’s streaked with grey and removes his glasses. He polishes the lenses with the hem of his shirt as he continues. “And you’re right to be skeptical.”
“What does skep-ical mean?” the bright child interrupts.
He laughs again. “You are always so inquisitive. And skeptical.” He smiles. “Skeptical means that it’s hard to convince you of something. Usually, I just try to make you think it was your idea in the first place – but I’m pretty sure you’ve always seen right through that trick. Ha! Maybe you see through my clever trick because I just told you about it! Bloody time travel.”
“Mister? Are you sick or something? You’re not making sense.”
“Don’t worry, JoJo. I’m fine,” the Time Traveler chuckles. He puts his glasses back on and starts to remove his shoes.
“Who’s JoJo? Are you sure you’re not sick?”
“You’re JoJo, Joy. Or at least you will be JoJo. Heck, maybe this is where the nickname came from. I can’t remember a time when you weren’t JoJo, even when I came… so yeah, this must be …” The Time Traveler scowls and drifts off. He turns away from the pretty blonde child and looks out over the water, rolling his pant legs up to the knee. As he dangles his legs into the water he startles at the unexpected temperature – cold for August. He looks back at JoJo and smiles again. “I guess there really isn’t anything I can tell you to convince you I’m a time traveler. But I can tell you that your second-grade teacher will be Mr. Thatcher – and he’ll be your very favorite teacher until you go to middle school – which, I’m sure, seems like a long time from now.”
The little girl ponders all this information, files it away in her quick mind. Why does it already feel right when he calls her by a different name? She can’t take it all in, so she changes gear.
“How come I’m not scared of you?” JoJo asks. “I mean, you’re like a stranger, and I’m not supposed to talk to strangers. But I talked to you a bunch. You don’t scare me. I even let you go up to the house and get us lemonade. How did you know where the lemonade was? How come I’m not scared of you?”
“Maybe I should be scared of you,” the Time Traveler says.
“Don’t’ be silly!” JoJo giggles.
“You always make me silly,” the Time Traveler smirks.
“What? That doesn’t… I give up. I guess I just like you. You’re nice to talk to.”
“I like talking to you too, sweetheart. But I have to go now – your mom will probably come looking for you any minute.”
“No! Please stay!” JoJo whines.
“You’ll see me again,” the Time Traveler says. But something is wrong.
The man turns sad and his forlorn countenance tugs at the little girl’s heart. An unfamiliar and desperate need to make him happy grips her. It’s wrong for him to be sad! Suddenly, she knows what to do. When she gets sad, mommy always gives her a hug and a kiss and that makes it better.
JoJo scrambles to her feet, all legs and skinny arms. She practically jumps into the Time Traveler’s lap. The rough wood adds one more scrape to the gallery of minor injuries on her skinny legs, but she doesn’t care. She throws her arms around his neck, hugs him hard, and gives him a fast, smacking kiss on the lips.
But no, he’s still sad. Behind his lenses, his grey eyes look intense and unhappy and a little desperate. Seven and a half is too young to know how to fix so much deep and sudden angst. Still, she must try.
The child rises until her big blue eyes can look deep into his. She kisses his lips and hugs him harder and this time he hugs her back. This time he kisses her back. He holds her tight, and their kiss doesn’t stop; their lips open to one another; his fingers twine into the back of her messy chin-length blonde hair. His tongue finds her mouth and that feels nice. She puts her tongue into his mouth and that’s nice too! She pulls tighter, presses his lips harder, explores faster with her small tongue.
The pretty girl is so taken with the exciting novelty of kissing that she doesn’t immediately sense the man’s hand under her round little ass. He gently kneads the soft flesh and she gets a flash of confusing warmth between her legs. Why isn’t she scared? She pulls at the hair behind his head and presses harder against his chest. She thrusts her ass back. She doesn’t understand what she’s doing, or why.
The Time Traveler knows he shouldn’t, she’s only seven, but the need is so strong; he slips his fingers further underneath the precious girl and finds the puffy smoothness trapped in her thin bathing suit. It’s the first time any man has touched her, and yet he knows her so well; he knows just where to stroke her, just how fast, just how hard.
It takes JoJo a full minute to realize that the strange moaning sound is coming from herself.
God, if only he could do more. One last time. But she’s much too…
JoJo’s bathing suit is soaked between her legs. She tears at his hair. She shivers. Her hips keep bucking. Pretty little seven-and-a-half-year-old JoJo doesn’t want these lovely feeling to ever end.
But of course, they must end. The nice, silly man who thinks he’s some weird time traveler, the man with the clever fingers, suddenly comes to his senses. He pulls JoJo away and sets her gently on the dock. And a moment later he’s gone. But not before he tells her he’s always loved her and always will and gives her a beautiful smile that she’ll never forget.
Maybe a hug and kiss really were all he needed.
August 1, 1988
JoJo rubs sleep from her eyes as she pads into the dark kitchen. “Mommy? Why are you up so late?” The refrigerator opens, giving out a bright wedge of light. It’s not mommy’s silhouette in the light. It’s someone taller, with broader shoulders. Her eyes flare; she’s awake now. “Is it you?”
The Time Traveler, holding open the refrigerator, looks over his shoulder. His grey eyes sparkle and take in the shape of the pretty blonde nine-and-a-half-year-old in her short summer nightshirt. “Hi there, JoJo,” he whispers. “Don’t wake your mom up, huh?”
She can’t help staring. He came back! But…. The first thing she whispers is, “Where are your glasses?”
“Glasses?” The Time Traveler asks, frowning. “Damn. But I suppose it happens to all of us eventually. How was the second grade, JoJo?” he asks, smiling again. “You did just finish the second grade, right?”
“I finished second grade ages ago! I’m not a baby!” JoJo corrects him. “It’s almost time to start fourth grade.” She scowls, then softens. “I hope I have a better teacher this year – like Mr. Thatcher. You were right, Mr. Thatcher was great.”
“I was? Well, yeah, sure I was.” The Time Traveler grins. “Hey, you want a sandwich? I was just making myself a sandwich.” He rummages through the fridge. “Damnit, where’s the mustard? She always keeps it over… ah, there it is. Let’s see. Baloney and cheese, no mayo, no mustard – right?” His smile beams at the pretty little girl, who can only nod her head, too awed to speak again. He’s back!
They sit in the tall counter stools and eat sandwiches. JoJo tries to figure out how he’s different, but her memories are two years old. It’s not just the missing glasses. Is there less gray in his hair? Maybe it’s a little bit longer and messier. Her blonde locks are longer now, half-way down her back. Why wouldn’t his be longer too? Does he like her hair? Yes, looking at her seems to make him happy, so maybe he does.
“Why were you gone so long?” JoJo blurts out before she takes the last bite of sandwich. “Two years!”
“Really? Two years for you? Wow, I wonder how long it will be for me. And you said fourth grade, so… I’m sorry, JoJo. Two years is a long time when you’re only nine. You are nine, right?”
“Nine and a half!” JoJo snaps, then giggles. “You know I don’t understand half the stuff you say, right?”
“Nine and a half,” the Time Traveler says gently. “Nine and a half and already so, so beautiful.”
That, JoJo understands. Blushing, she turns her attention into her glass of milk. But she thinks he won’t be here for long, so she steels herself and says what’s bothering her. “I still don’t think you’re a time traveler. I think you’re just teasing me. But I don’t know how you knew about Mr. Thatcher and what a great teacher he’d be. That was weird.”
“I didn’t say I was a time traveler.”
“You’re not?”
“Well, yeah, I am a time traveler. But…, look, wouldn’t you rather talk about something else?”
JoJo scowls. She won’t be put off so easily. “Okay, Mr. superhero-time-traveler, tell me something else about my future. Then maybe next time you come I’ll believe you. Oh, gosh! You are going to come again, right?”
“Well, yeah, I did come, before – again – I absolutely had to.” The Time Traveler pauses at JoJo’s look of confusion. “I promise, I will come back,” he clarifies.
“Good! Now tell me something about the future.”
“Well, I can’t tell you much – it’s against the first rule.”
“The first what?”
“The First Rule of Time Travel. It’s written on a bronze plaque in the machine. ‘Don’t tell people about their future.’ It’s very serious. But I’ve found it’s okay to tell little things, like what you said I told you about Mr. Thatcher. But not big things.”
JoJo shivers, like she would if a movie just got scary. “Um, if there’s a rule…” But she really wants to know. “Maybe just a little thing?”
“A little thing. Hmm. I know – you once told me… No, that’s a big thing. Um, got it. You’re nine and a half now, so you’ll be ten soon and it was when you were ten that you got that scar on your left knee.”
“A scar! What happens? Does it hurt? Tell me!”
This time it’s the Time Traveler who shivers. “No, I can’t tell you more!” He looks around with worry, as if the world might collapse on them, but it doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Can we talk about something else?”
“I guess.” JoJo says. “Or maybe you could…” JoJo trails off and knows she’s blushing worse.
“Maybe I could what?” the Time Traveler asks with a smirk.
“I mean, well, last time…” She can’t say it. It’s too embarrassing.
“God, your cute,” the Time Traveler whispers as he leans closer to the little girl. His hand slides behind her neck. “Last time I what?”
“You…, you kissed me and… you touched…” JoJo bites her lip. Her big eyes implore him to understand, so she doesn’t have to say it out loud.
“I did? I mean, of course… Ha, I guess old me is quite the pervert. You’ll only be seven!”
“Seven and a half,” JoJo whispers.
“Seven and a…” The Time Traveler brings his lips to the lips of the little blonde nine-and-a-half-year-old. It’s a very nice kiss, a warm, full, loving, excited kiss. And by the time they come up for air the pretty child is in his lap, arms around his neck. Her heart thumps rapidly against his broad chest.
The Time Traveler stands. The child’s long thin legs wrap around his waist and it’s easy to carry her into the living room, further from the room where her mother is sleeping. He settles onto the sofa, with the girl still wrapped around his body, already kissing him again.
They keep on kissing, with passion and tongues and spit and a longing that neither of them, for different reasons, understand. They kiss until the Time Traveler’s hands lift the hem of JoJo’s thin nightgown. She bites her lip with frightened uncertainty, but she lifts her arms and lets him pull the flimsy garment over her head. She shivers; he pulls her tight to warm her against his chest; they melt together in another sweet kiss.
Somehow his shirt is unbuttoned and the feel of skin against skin is terrifyingly wonderful. Somehow his kisses move to her throat causing her back to arch with a strength that nearly topples her over. Somehow his hand finds her smooth, round, little ass. Somehow his fingers slide inside her cotton panties. Somehow the electric flash when his finger passes lightly along the bare skin of her puffy, soft labia isn’t quite enough to explode her preteen brain, but it’s close.
Somehow, she doesn’t scream.
But the Time Traveler slips his finger between the wet, velvet folds of JoJo’s pussy. His digit enters her and thrusts up inside. Her head goes back. She gives a gasp of terror and longing and pleasure. She’s waited so long, even if she didn’t know this was what she was waiting for.
“Hush!” the Time Traveler whispers and immediately pulls his hand from between JoJo’s legs.
JoJo claps both hands over her mouth. Her mother! What would she say? What would she do!? Then the ridiculousness of everything overwhelms her and she starts to giggle.
“Stop that!” The Time Traveler whispers. “Hush. You have no idea how mad she’d be – she barely tolerates us now. Oh shit, I shouldn’t…. Just stop…” Then the giggles take him too. He fights to keep his laughter quiet, but her giggles are an infection and a joy. They’re not to be denied.
Instead of trying to shush the little girl, he leans into the fun. After all, he’s a time traveler. He knows that what will be will be. He grabs JoJo by the waist and pushes her onto her back on the sofa. He tickles her. She’s giggling anyway, so why not? She does her best to stifle her screaming giggles, but she’s noisy. He doesn’t care. He knows all her most ticklish places and he doesn’t pull any punches – her sides, the backs of her knees – he’s a monster. She struggles and fights but the pure joy on her beautiful young face betrays her pleasure. And he can’t stop laughing right along with her, even as he pulls her cotton panties down and off her long, skinny legs. They haven’t had this much fun in…
God, he wants her like this so bad. But she’s only nine, he can’t! But he was only nine when she… He can’t! It’s not the same.
What the Time Traveler can do is loom over and kiss her. He can press her legs apart and find her little pussy again. He can give her a kind of pleasure he knows she loves.
JoJo gives a different kind of gasp when the man’s finger plunges into her pussy again. Shoulders and ass press into the sofa cushions. She nearly screams when he nibbles at her throat. She thrashes. She tries to clutch her knees together, but only closes around his waist. He keeps plunging his fingers in and out of her! Please, please! Please what? She doesn’t know. Oh god, he rubs her clit with his thumb and two fingers enter her pussy again and again and…
“Aaggh, aagghh!” JoJo doesn’t know what this feeling is, but there’s not an atom in her young body that doesn’t thrum to the explosive thrill.
The Time Traveler watches the child’s first climax with happiness and pride. She taught him so well. But he thinks she might shiver herself into a coma if he doesn’t let up, and so he does. He sits back against the sofa and lifts her limp, naked little body into his lap. Her head lolls against his shoulder; her shivering orgasm slowly ebbs away.
JoJo purrs and the Time Traveler knows it’s enough. He carries her to her room and sets her on the bed. There’s a dim light at her curtains. It’s nearly dawn. Barely awake, JoJo raises her arms; he slips the nightshirt back over her head. He tucks her under the covers, gives her the stuffed rabbit that will still sit on her shelf when he returns.
“Don’t go,” the sweet little girl whines at the level of a soft whisper. But she’s nearly asleep. She’s only nine, after all, nine and a half.
“I hope you will know I’ve always loved you,” he whispers in her ear. With a final, soft kiss on her head, he’s gone.
August 1, 1990
JoJo waits in the sunroom, looking out at the lake and trees. She waits, if not patiently then at least with some degree of control. She’s sure he’ll come. She’s thought about it many times. He promised he’d come; he never said when. But it must be today! That’s the only thing that makes sense. He always comes on the first of August. He always comes to the summer house.
Why must the clock move so slowly!? Because it’s all about time, isn’t it? It’s still afternoon – the lake is so pretty. He said he loved the summer house, so he should want to come while he can see the lake. Why isn’t he here? Uhh! Why didn’t he come in the early morning, like last time? He promised! But the first time he came… They’re running out of time! Time, time, time!
“Wow, it’s almost like I didn’t go anywhere,” the Time Traveler says from the doorway to the sunroom. “The lake is the same – except the Johnson’s house isn’t where it’s supposed to be on the south shore. And that tree at the edge of the lawn – that’s been gone for ages. Lightening. And… I don’t think I’d believe it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes. Fucking time travel. It’s real. Wow.”
JoJo nearly runs to him, but his eyes are still fixed on the scenery outside. Besides, he’s so much younger! She isn’t a little girl anymore, and adults don’t all look simply ‘old’ to her. She’s figured out that he was younger the second time he came to see her. What better proof could there be that he was a genuine time traveler? She shouldn’t be surprised that he’s even younger now – but he’s so handsome, so… young.
“How old are you?” The question slips unbidden from JoJo’s lips. She blushes.
The Time Traveler seems to see her for the first time. His eyes flare. “Jesus,” he curses softly. “I knew…, but…, God, you’re so pretty, just like…” He smiles, broadly. “You always take my breath away. Do you know that? And yeah, I’m twenty” His smile quirks up on one side. “Twenty and one quarter, to be precise.”
“Hi,” JoJo says in a whisper, suddenly shy, suddenly forgetting that she’s been waiting and waiting for this moment. “I’m JoJo.”
“And you’re, let’s see, eleven?” the Time Traveler asks with the same smirk.
“Eleven and a…” JoJo blurts out before she processes that he’s teasing her. He’s only been here for half a minute and he’s already teasing her. It’s like they’ve always been together.
And that’s when JoJo runs to him and throws her arms around his waist. She hugs him tight and tries to blink back her tears. Finally, when she’s sure that he’s truly there, after he’s wrapped his warm arms around her shoulders, she turns her sparkling eyes upward to find him smiling down at her, looking happy if a little bit confused. Twenty, she thinks.
“Is… Is this the first time you…, you know… did time travel?” she asks him,
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure it’ll be the only time,” the Time Traveler answers, but he’s distracted. He’s less interested in the conversation than he is in stroking JoJo’s long blonde hair and examining the contours of her gorgeous, familiar face. It’s fascinating to see the face he knows so well, only impossibly young. “I doubt the machine will ever show up again.”
“It’s not the only time,” JoJo says softly.
It’s several moments before the Time Traveler starts with a little jerk. “Wait! It’s not? How do you…?”
“You’ll come when I’m younger and then you’ll come again, later, when I’m even younger. You seem to like August First for some reason.” JoJo has the confusing thought that at this moment she has more experience with time travel than he does. It’s sort of making sense to her. She hopes she hasn’t broken the First Rule of Time Travel, but she doesn’t have the shivery scared feeling, so it’s probably okay.
“Wow, that’s a lot to take in,” the Time Traveler responds. “You know – it was August First when I left.”
“You promised me you’d come see me again, when you were here the last time. But it wasn’t really a promise, I guess. It was a memory, because you were older and, well, here you are.”
“Okay, now you’re making me dizzy,” the Time Traveler says and smiles, pulling the little girl tighter to his chest. Then the smile fades from his face as the little girl’s meaning sinks in, replaced with a countenance as serious as the sphinx. “I will always keep my promises to you, JoJo, no matter when I make them.”
They end up on the sofa. Are they on the sofa again or for the first time? JoJo wonders, even as she’s tearing at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel skin against skin. Her brain tells her it’s both – but then he pulls her crop top blouse over her head and she no longer cares about some stupid time travel riddle. He’s younger, she’s older – or is it the other way around – she doesn’t care! She just wants him.
And the Time Traveler wants her just as much. His eyes flare as he takes in the tiny buds of her breasts, breasts that he knows will blossom to beautiful, small handfuls of perfection. Instead of kissing her beautiful lips, he pulls her tight and sucks a tiny nipple between his teeth.
“Aggh, oh, please!” JoJo begs. She has no idea what she’s begging for. She grabs his messy light brown hair on both sides of his head, arches her back and pulls his face tighter to her chest. How does a nipple feel so amazing? “Please!” she moans again.
The Time Traveler doesn’t resist; he’s happy to keep teasing the little girl’s nipples. It frees his hands to scrabble at the front of her denim shorts. But it’s awkward, and half his attention is filled with fulfilling the girl’s need. It seems to take forever to open the button, force the zipper down. Finally, she seems to understand what he wants, what he needs! JoJo tears her breasts away from his lips and levers herself upward, pulling painfully at his locks, until she’s standing on the sofa, feet on either side of his lap. Now he can tear the zipper down, open the fly, slide his hands into the shorts and slide them down the back of her perfect, round little ass – panties and all.
But the silly little girl just stands there, suddenly stunned, suddenly petrified. He can’t get the shorts down her long legs with her legs apart!
This isn’t a time for patience or understanding or gentle, sweet, love. This is a time for desire! He can feel his need in every bone, and he can see her need in the shivers running up and down her frame, the lip she’s biting until she almost brings blood, the moisture and swelling in the amazing, beautiful little pussy he’s uncovered.
The Time Traveler grabs JoJo by the waist and wrestles her onto her back. Now he has all the leverage. He slides her shorts and panties down her legs and throws them far away. He never wants to see the damn garments again. Fuck, her pussy is inviting! But when he looks up, she’s covering her tiny breasts with her arms, suddenly shy. Wasn’t he just kissing and sucking and generally molesting those tiny points of pink flesh? Her lip quivers. God, she’s so fucking adorable!
JoJo remembers how he touched her, the older him. She remembers how wonderful it was. But then he left. Did she do something wrong? Maybe he didn’t really like her – or like her body. She doesn’t want this one to leave. She wants him to touch her and stay with her forever. She barely knows him, but she knows she needs him, that she’s always needed him, like… like he’s a part of her! But she’s scared.
The Time Traveler conquers his need – at least for a moment. The beautiful, naked child looks like she’s about to have a stroke. She went from hot cuteness to despair in the blink of an eye. Is it his fault? What did he do wrong? He thought she’d always liked…. Damn, he’s got to fix this!
A hug and kiss. Isn’t that what she’s always told him? ‘Just a hug and a kiss and the world will be all right, little man.’ (How old had he been the first time her hugs and kisses turned into more – much more? Older than the stunning little beauty in front of him, with her big blue eyes? Not older, younger… Fucking time travel.) Yes, a hug and a kiss.
Carefully, slowly, the Time Traveler reaches out to JoJo. He gathers her in his arms, feels her thaw, pulls her into a close, intimate hug. He kisses her, she kisses him back, and everything is okay, everything is fine, everything is…. The need returns.
The need burns, it burns them both.
When he moves his kisses to her throat, JoJo’s world explodes. On her back again, her legs spread open, obeying his need for access. She remembers another time. She braces for his fingers – but it isn’t fingers that touch her swollen, excited pussy. His tongue pierces her! Oh! Yes! How does he do that? Aggh!
The taste and smell of her quivering pussy are sweet, fresh, and familiar. The Time Traveler has always loved the way her body shivers at the swipe of his tongue. But this is her first time. She has no control, no defense. Look how quickly she responds to every hard, probing lick – it drives him insane with desire.
A barely perceptible coat of downy blonde hair tickles his nose. He almost laughs at the irony of it. She’s always shaved herself for him – he had to come meet her as a preteen to experience this delight!
The Time Traveler strives to hold his excitement at bay long enough to taste the depth of her and find out how quickly he can push her over the edge.
As it turns out, how quick is very quick. JoJo’s is inexperienced, with none of the defenses or control she will someday develop. Her arousal knows no boundaries. Out of control, the little girl bucks her hips into his face, arches her back to the point of pain. Her nails scratch at the fabric before she grabs his head and screams; climax floods her pussy, lighting up every cell of her young body.
The Time Traveler drinks and revels in JoJo’s pleasure. He concentrates on torturing her tiny, sensitive clit, knowing it will drive her insane. She’s helpless in a way he’s never seen before. It’s intoxicating. It’s time!
“Oh! Please, no, please, yes!” JoJo moans. This orgasm is so much more than he gave her the last time. It’s torture! It’s heaven. Wait, don’t stop! “Please!”
It only takes a moment to shift their positions. The Time Traveler could simply slide up along her small body, but instead he lifts her bodily as he levers himself upwards, then drops onto his back on the sofa with the gorgeous blonde child astride him. Her shocked eyes fix on the pulsating erection that points at the ceiling. But this is right. She should be on top for her first time. It returns the control he callously stole by taking advantage of her inexperience.
She’s so young. He should tell her it’s her choice, she doesn’t have to do this. But he can’t to lie to the sweet child. This must happen, it’s why he came – she told him so.
JoJo manages to pull her stare from the cock jutting up in front of her. Are they all that big?! Her eyes flick to his face. He’s waiting. He wants her to take the next move. But she’s scared: scared she’ll do it wrong, scared it’s too big, scared that afterwards he’ll leave again. Scared he won’t like it. But her orgasm is fading, and her body wants it back!
Using every ounce of her eleven-and-a-half-year-old determination, JoJo takes hold of the throbbing cock. Oh! It’s so warm! How is she supposed to do this? She implores him with a look, only to find him smirking. The devil! But his smirk softens, and he takes pity on her.
“It’s okay, my darling,” the Time Traveler whispers. He pulls her hand from his aching cock, then gently grasps her hips and slides her small body forward until his cock is trapped between them. Her petals open around it; her wetness quickly moistens his length; he guides her forward and back. “It’s okay,” he says, “relax, don’t’ be scared.”
“Will it hurt?” the young girl whispers.
“Yes,” he says, “but not for long. Try to relax.”
JoJo wants to relax, she wants to do this right, but it’s frightening! His grip tightens and she stiffens. He whispers sweet encouragement. She does her best to give in, let go. Suddenly she understands, he wants her to pivot her pelvis – tilt it back, thrust it forward – again and… Oh! That feels so good! She’s going to melt. Her body wants more of this! She grinds along his warm, thick cock – it’s the best thing ever! The tingling, explosive feelings are coming back. Yes. Please!
The Time Traveler loves the way JoJo responds to him: eyes closed, head back, gasping, grinding his length with each sinuous wave that flows down her fantastic body. But it’s time, now. With a tilt and a gentle, well-timed lift and drop, he uses her own motions to bring her small pussy over the head of his cock. He enters her. Her eyes snap open. She cries out. He doesn’t stop. Pulling her to his chest, he thrusts inside of her all at once.
It does hurt! But JoJo already knows it’s worth it. Nothing has ever felt more perfect than this pressure inside her – the pressure of his cock invading her tight, hungry vagina. He holds her tight, filling her up. The only motion is the throb of his veins inside her. He waits. JoJo tries to breathe. It hurts, it… She pants, then she bites her lip. He stares into her face and she nods her head. Yes, she begs without words. He understands. He starts to move. Oh! OHHH!
It's the Time Traveler’s turn to use the tilt and thrust of his pelvis. Slow, shallow, patient, he fucks the little girl’s tight cunny. There! She finally relaxes. She starts to moan. He delves deeper. She shivers. He takes her by the arms and lifts her chest away from his, tilts her body upwards, shows her how to brace herself against his chest, then drops his hands to her perfect ass. Now she can join in the action, use her pelvis again, control the depth of their joining. He’s taught her what he well knows is her favorite position.
Now they’re making love.
JoJo’s climax quickly returns, sending shivers from her toes to her scalp. Pain is only a memory – like a time traveler, she leaves it in the past. And a few, energetic moments later his power increases, he accelerates, he holds her much tighter. For a moment, they both bite their lips and it’s as if each is looking into a mirror. Then the Time Traveler thrusts painfully deep inside her and his shuddering pleasure is another mirror of hers.
“She almost didn’t tell me,” the Time Traveler says. The little girl stretches out on top of him, face resting against his chest. He runs his fingers through her long blonde hair and feels her heartbeat slowing. He must leave soon, no matter how much he might want to stay. But for the moment it’s perfect to snuggle her in his arms and bask in the afterglow.
JoJo decides not to ask him ‘who’ didn’t tell him, opting only for the ‘what.’ “What didn’t, ah, she tell you?”
“That you’d only be eleven,” he replies. “Sorry, eleven and a half. I thought you’d be sixteen. But she told me the truth, just as I stepped into the machine. I spent my whole life thinking she’s five years older than she really is. I get why she did it – I mean, twelve is young to be…” The Time Traveler catches himself, remembering the First Rule of Time Travel. But she let me think she was older than she was, or is, or... Damn, time travelling is confusing.”
“You think it’s confusing! Try being the one…” JoJo takes a deep breath and lets go of the hurt and confusion. He’s here now. That’s all that matters. She slides her fingers softly across his broad chest. He’s young, but he’s a man. He has muscles, hair on his chest, a dimple when he smiles – bigger when he smirks. Besides, first rule or not, he’s told her enough to know she’s the one who sent him here. And that means… He breaks into her reveries.
“You said you were younger…, when I come, came, come – damn – when you saw me before. Did we…?” The Time Traveler can’t say the words.
JoJo almost giggles at the way he blushes. “Yes,” she whispers, “but not like… not like this.”
“Did I, will I hurt you?”
“No! No, it was nice, so nice. I’ve missed you so much. Will you come see me again? Wait, don’t answer. I don’t want you to break the First Rule of Time Travel. You might have to go away.”
“What? You know the first rule? That’s crazy. Do you know the second rule?”
“No. Maybe you shouldn’t tell me?”
“You mean, because of the first rule? Maybe,” he says. “But I don’t see how the second rule would tell you about your… Oh, but maybe it would…” The Time Traveler keeps stroking the little girl’s long hair as he ponders. “Maybe I better not tell you. But I can tell you the third rule for sure. Want to hear it?”
“Um, yes?”
“Yeah, so, the Third Rule of Time Travel says, ‘Whatever you do, don’t go back and kill your grandfather,’” the Time Traveler proclaims in a stentorian voice that doesn’t match his youth.
“Don’t kill your…, what? No! That doesn’t make…”.
The Time Traveler can’t keep a straight face.
“Oh! You just made that up! That’s not… that was… that’s silly. Are you always so silly?” Despite being eleven and a half, JoJo giggles.
Having successfully distracted JoJo from the Second Rule of Time Travel, the Time Traveler kisses her on the forehead and then on the lips. His hand slides down the smooth skin along her back, searching for the perfect roundness of her young ass.
“Wait!” JoJo says. She pulls away, serious again. She props herself on his chest and looks into his grey eyes. “I need to know something. So be serious. Last time you promised to come see me again, but you also said you ‘had to’ come. It’s bothered me for a long time. Did you come because you wanted to, or because you had to?” She can barely breathe.
The Time Traveler’s smirk gives way to sincerity. She keeps forcing him to deal with conundrums. Bloody time travel! He concentrates on JoJo’s gorgeous big blue eyes for a time before he answers. He knows what future-him meant; he just doesn’t know how to tell her. Finally, he says “JoJo, my darling, my true love, I came here because I wanted to. But… It’s complicated. I… Can we just talk about something else for a little while? Please?”
“Um, I guess,” JoJo says quietly. Her heart is lighter. He wanted to, but still.... “I guess we could talk, or…, well…”
“Hey! You sneaky little… Oh yeah, do that, that’s… Whoa, you don’t have to do… Oh, damn!”
Despite her lack of experience, it takes only seconds for JoJo’s young tongue and pretty, full lips to return the Time Traveler’s erection to full attention. It’s exhilarating; she made that happen! Gosh! He’s so big again. He can’t resist her! She’s pretty sure she could get him to do anything she wanted. But what she really wants…
As if he can read her mind, the Time Traveler takes hold of JoJo’s face and gently pulls her away from his very excited, very ready erection. He would love to teach her the finer points of a blow job, but he has a job to do, and he can’t be sure he’s already completed it. Sitting up, he pulls her close and kisses her until he feels her melt in his arms. In a sense, he has read her mind – for he knows exactly what she wants, what she needs – even if she doesn’t. Doesn’t know yet, that is.
JoJo feels a moment of disappointment. Didn’t he like what she was doing? But the feeling is swept away by the energetic passion of his kiss and by the intensity of her unexpected need. She’s hungry! And she wants… it’s confusing, but… Oh god! Now! Please!
He’s been so gentle, so caring, so careful and sweet. But suddenly he’s aggressive, almost violent as he spins her around and presses her chest to the back of the sofa. It’s frightening – and the fright is exciting, arousing – oh yes! The fabric rasps JoJo’s delicate nipples as he mashes her small, sensitive, new breasts into the cushions. He forces her forward, until her shoulders are over the sofa and her head juts over the back. She tries to twist out of his grasp, escape his frightening attention. When she finds herself trapped, his strength far greater than hers; when he growls low in her ear, looming over her small body; when her struggles fail to stop him from lifting her perfect, small, round ass upward, legs wide, scraping her knees against the fabric, that’s when she understands he’s taken complete control of her; she’s helpless; she’s his little toy to do with as he pleases. That’s when an explosion of feral arousal suffuses her young body. That’s when she knows what he’s going to do to her, and she wants it more than anything she’s ever wanted.
The Time Traveler braces his feet on the floor, lifts the child’s ass just a little bit higher and forces his engorged, angry cock through the tight entrance of her pussy. It’s heaven for him, and he can tell from her grunts and screams that it’s heaven for her, too. She loves to be in control, but she loves just as much to be dominated. And the Time Traveler has the joy of teaching her that, just as she taught him (will teach him? It’s so confusing) when he was just younger than the child in his grasp.
“Oh, yes, ohhh!” JoJo cries out. He’s so deep and he’s so big! Every vicious thrust hurts but she can’t imagine any better pain. She wants to scream his name. Why hasn’t he told her? She should know it, she’s sure of that, it’s almost there in her mind. But she can’t think, she can only grunt and moan and gasp as he fucks her – so hard, so fast, so deep, and so, so good.
Fucking isn’t enough. He needs her to know he completely controls her. She’ll love that! Reaching around her waist, he brings his fingers to her shy, tiny clit. He smirks at the gasp she gives when he flutters his fingers over the tiny, sensitive protrusion. She thrashes, moans even louder. Seconds later, she cums: hard, wild, explosive. She can’t see him smile, but she can hear his evil laugh. She doesn’t know yet that he can keep her orgasm going as long as he wants.
JoJo’s forced orgasm is exhilarating. It’s exhausting. She begs for him to stop, then screams for more. But she’s not ready for the final proof of his total dominance of her soul and body. She screams an incoherent scream of exquisite terror.
The Time Traveler knows exactly how to give JoJo the final, extreme level of erotic pleasure. He fucks her faster and painfully deep. He tortures her clitoris beyond her endurance. And then he forces the thumb of his other hand deep into her tight, virgin anus. As she screams, he climaxes, gushing his hot cum into her womb.
Moments later, they collapse together, panting and shivering. Overjoyed.
JoJo spoons against the time traveler, who wraps his long, muscular arms around her small body. A thousand thoughts swirl through her confused mind, but she comes back again and again to the fact that he’s going to leave her. She has so many questions. She settles on what she thinks is the most important question, not understanding that all her questions are really the same question.
In a whispered rush, she asks, “Will you come see me again? I know you shouldn’t tell me, and maybe you don’t know, but I need to know. Please.”
The Time Traveler doesn’t answer. He presses the warm skin of her back to his chest and runs his fingers through her pretty hair. Eventually, JoJo tries again.
“You said it was complicated,” she says. “What did you mean?”
No answer, just a kiss on the top of her head, a squeeze around her shoulders. She waits as long as she can.
“At least tell me your name!”
Unexpectedly, the Time Traveler laughs. He turns the little girl until they’re face to face. He smiles. “Now that would definitely break the First Rule of Time Travel,” he finally says.
“Be serious,” JoJo scowls.
“I am serious,” he returns. But he’s still smirking. He carefully places his palm on her bare stomach, then looks back into her eyes. “I told you it was complicated, and I can’t break the first rule. But the first rule is about your future. Maybe I can tell you about your now.”
“My what?”
“It’s already happened, I’m sure. And that means I’m not allowed to stay any longer – that’s the second rule.”
“I don’t understand! You’re not making any sense. Please make sense.”
“You want to know my name – that’s the key. You see, you get to choose my name. It’s your right to choose my name. And you will choose a good one. I know, I like it.” The Time Traveler smiles and kisses her one last time, lingering, giving her time to think, to try to understand.
He shivers. “Damn, I have to go!” he says.
“No!” the little girl whines. “At least…, at least tell me if you’ll come back!”
The Time Traveler has the shivers again. He fights against it, but the need to leave is overwhelming. Finally, he smirks, having found the right words, the right way to say goodbye. “How can I come back if I’m already here?” he asks.
And then he’s gone.
A long time later, after she’s done crying, after she’s gone around and around every confusing thing he said, JoJo sleeps for a few hours. When she wakes there’s a name in her mind – the perfect name – and she smiles, because she finally understands.