Letters From a Pedo/Angela (12)

Dear James,

The most extraordinary thing happened to me yesterday and I hope you won't think too badly of me when I tell you about it. I remember some of the games we played when I was a kid, so I suspect this tale will not shock you overmuch.

You know that I am in Cornwall, working on a new office building, and since it's a long contract, I decided to rent a caravan for the duration to save money. Not to mention, a little privacy. I found a standard four-berth van, parked in the least popular part of the site, and I did a deal with the owner to help out at weekends with mowing and such. The site has good facilities for children and attracts a lot of single parents. I guess they are cheaper or something. The Wi-Fi is excellent so I can do most of my work from the caravan.

Whatever the reason, the pool is filled with kids of all ages whenever the sun is shining and if that isn't enough, some of the young mothers are pretty nubile as well. I got to the stage where I have to have a wank before going there to avoid embarrassing myself. Anyway, I digress.

Angela (not her real name) is twelve, just like Lolita in the book. She is tall for her age and slim, with long fair hair and a snub nose. She bemoans her lack of breasts and refuses to accept my assurance that she is beautiful the way she is. She has two younger brothers who annoy her intensely and takes every opportunity to escape their company. I assume that she takes after her (absent) father because her mother is unattractive, both in appearance and manner, to put it mildly.