Guess That Hit/Part 6

From All The Fallen Stories
Jump to navigation Jump to search

Guess That Hit, part 6: … tight!

Cindy had already taken off her shirt, wearing it by a finger, casually flung over her shoulder. I couldn't help but admire the slender form of her back, the smooth skin. And below that, the firm round ass, tightly hugged by her panties, moving gently with her steps.
Would I have seen her boobs if I had not looked in Hannah's eyes that long? Or, had she turned around first, before removing her shirt. Why had she even chosen to remove it here at all, she could have waited until she was in her room. Had she wanted me to see it?

I wondered whether, perhaps, she would turn to me before leaving the room. To ensure that I would see her bare tits.
She might if you call her! Oh, shut up.

And yet … “Good night, girls!” I said one final time.
Cindy stopped. Turned. Her head, only her head. I saw her sly smile.
She winked and blew me a kiss. Then turned back and followed the other girls to her room.

I followed her with my eyes. Her back appeared even nuder than before. Her hips seemed to wiggle more than at first. Even the movements of her shirt, draped loosely over her shoulder, suspended by a single finger, appeared to change into a hand, beckoning, inviting.
I shook my head. Impossible!
But … the smile? The wink? Had I imagined those things too? Had she indeed smiled? And slyly? Had she winked? Or had she just turned to blow her uncle an innocent kiss?
The lights were still dimmed, I couldn't really be sure.

I forced myself to relax. Forced my dick to deflate. Tried to get my mind off of all that had just happened. But I failed.
I went to the kitchen to grab a beer, hoping that would help. It didn't.
Memories kept coming back. Feeling Cindy's tits. Seeing Rhonda's. Hannah's camel toe. Ally's fanatic and overeager attempt at kissing, and Savannah's almost scientific approach to it. But also the touch of her tiny tits, and the large areola. Grace's wet body in the shower, writhing under my hands as I fingered her to an orgasm …

Shit! Grace!
I suddenly remembered my promise to check in on her. I checked the clock. It was almost one, surely, she'd be asleep by now and not even notice me. But still, a promise is a promise.
I walked up the stairs. I noticed that the door to Cindy's room was open so I made sure to be loud enough that the girls could hear me. As I passed the door, I looked in.
A speaker, connected to a phone, was playing music of probably the latest and greatest boy band. All girls were already on the mattresses that were laid out on the floor. It was too warm for blankets, so they were covered by bedsheets only, allowing me to see the exact outline of their bodies.
I let my eyes wander, pretending to be the responsible adult looking in on them. I saw, with some regret, that Cindy's sheet was pulled up all the way to her shoulders. I had to step in and look behind the door to find Rhonda. She was cramped up in a space that looked uncomfortably tiny. Well, someone had to take that spot, and after the previous events I was not surprised that this fate had befallen her.
Rhonda and Cindy were busy on their phones. Hannah and Savannah were chatting in a whispered voice. And Ally was lying with her eyes closed. Sleeping already? Her breathing didn't look relaxed enough for sleep; it looked more as if she was tired, trying to relax but not asleep yet.
I'm sure that at least some of the girls were aware that I was there, but nobody responded. They were back to girl time. And probably very tired. Just like me.

I moved on to the next door, Grace's room. I pushed it open, making as little noise as possible.
There she was, on her bed, dimly lit by her night light. Her head rested on her favorite Cinderella pillow, hairs draping the Disney princess, whose beauty paled against this little sleeping angel.
She had kicked off the drapes, giving my eyes easy access to her nightgown. It was pink, short sleeved, and also bearing a Cinderella picture. The hem, normally extending to just above the knees, had moved up a bit with Grace's movements, exposing most of her left thigh.
I just stood there and stared. Can there be anything more pure, more beautiful, more innocent, than a sleeping child?

Should I whisper a soft good night before leaving? Should I enter the room, lean in, peck her softly on her cheeks? Or would that wake her, should I rather just turn and let her sleep?
Just then, her eyes fluttered. She looked at me, then beamed.
“Oh, hey uncle Dave! Sorry I fell asleep, I tried to stay awake for you but it took so long. Are mum and dad back home? Are you going away now?”
“No, my little princess. Your mom and dad are away a little longer, and I will stay here. If you need me, I will be sleeping in your parents bedroom.”

I knelt at her bedside, gently caressed her hair, then gave her a quick peck on the lips.
“Good night and sweet dreams, dear princess!”
I stood up to leave but she grabbed my arm to hold me back.
“Uncle Dave, can I ask you something? I am a bit … confused after … after what we did in the shower.”
Uh-oh.

That simple question scared the shit out of me. Had I gone too far? Too fast? Had I hurt her?
I knew I had not hurt her physically. But emotionally … she's only eight, for crying out loud, how could I think that she had been ready for that.
I mean, the blow job had not really been my fault. Really? But fingering her anus and her sweet little cunny under the shower? It felt natural when it happened, but still. She's only eight.

I sighed. Better get it over with, delaying won't make it better.
“Sure, dear. You can tell and ask me anything. Don't be afraid. Did I scare you when I ...”
I paused, looking for the best words to use.
“No, uncle Dave. You didn't scare me. And I'm not afraid. I just don't understand everything we did.”
“Okay. Just ask. I'll answer. As honestly as I can. Promise.”
She took a deep breath. “So in the end, when you touched me … down there. Was that a sex thing?”
I nodded. “Yes, Grace. It was.”
“But then … when I touch myself down there, is that then also a sex thing?”
I paused to think.

“Some people will say yes, others say no. I would say yes. It is a sex thing. But doing sex things alone is not the same as doing sex things with another. And when people talk about being too young for sex, they often talk about sex with another. Not about sex alone.”
“Oh good. I often do sex alone. It feels really good to play with my twinkle. But it felt much gooder when you did it, uncle Dave!”
“I'm happy to hear that, dear princess. I wanted to make you feel good.”

She paused for a deep breath. “Earlier, when you were in the bathroom … Rhonda said you were … wanking off? Is that the word she used?”
“I wasn't there to hear it. But if she used that word, then she was right.”
“And do you feel good when you wank off? Like … like how I feel good when I diddle my twinkle?”
“Yes, sort of. It is not the same for men and boys as it is for women and girls. But it is … a bit the same.”
She pondered a bit. Kept her hand on my arm, she wasn't done talking yet. Her face showed her brain working overtime to put the pieces together. “So when I diddle my twinkle, I feel good. And when you diddl … wank your peepee, you feel good.”
I just nodded, followed her train of thought.
“But when you diddled my twinkle, I felt even gooder.” She paused again. Then, “Just like you felt even gooder when I did that suck thing on your peepee, right?”
I nodded again.
“So when you diddled me, was that like … almost the same as when I sucked you?”

I paused, considered my answer carefully. I had promised to be as honest as I could. How honest could I be exactly? She just lay there, looking at me with her trusting eyes, no doubt at all that I would answer, eventually.
“So with sex, there are some things you can do alone or someone else can do them.”
“Like diddling my twinkle!”
“Yes. A girl can diddle her own twinkle,” I decided to stick to her word choice, this was already complex enough, “or someone else can diddle it. And when someone else does it, it often feels better.” I sighed. “Or sometimes not, for instance when someone does it against your will. Than it feels bad.”
She thought about, made the connection. “Oh, is that would they call bad touching? Mom and dad always say it should tell them if people want to bad touch me.”
“Yes, it is. And yes, you should. So, what I did in the shower … I really should have asked, but I didn't, so maybe it was bad touching.”
“No, silly, I liked it. Oh, and you did ask! So that was good touching.”
“I'm glad to hear that, little princess. I never want to bad touch you. But I do like good touching you.”
She smiled, hugged me. “Me too, uncle Dave. You can always good touch me.”
I smiled, gently stroked the back of my fingers across her cheek, kissed her forehead.

“But you haven't answered my question yet.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. Sorry. So, as I said, a girl can diddle herself, or someone else can diddle her. And for guys, it is the same with wanking: a guy can wank himself, or someone else can do it.”
“Like I did!” she beamed proudly.
“No, what you did was not wanking, dear princess. What Rhonda did, before I asked for a beer, that was wanking.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.
“And that made me feel good. Very good. Even better than when I wank myself. Just like how I made you feel better than you diddling yourself.”
“And then Ally ...”
“She tried to wank me but I don't think she has ever done it before. She copied what she saw Rhonda do, but she has not yet learned how to make a man feel really good. It was still very nice, but not as good as when Rhonda did it.”

I had gotten carried away with the memory. Had not seen how Grace looked ever more disappointed, until she interrupted me.
“So ... Rhonda made you feel gooder than I?”
“No, dear princess, not at all!”
“But you said that she wanked you, and that that felt gooder then when you wank yourself.”
“Yes, I did. But what you did felt even better than that!”
“Really?” Gone was the disappointment, she was instantly beaming all over again. “That suck thing was even better than wanking?”
“Yes, it was, dear princess. It felt even better. You did really good. But now wait and let me answer your question, okay?”
She smiled, happy again, and nodded.

“So as I said. Diddling and wanking are what girls and boys can do for themselves, or someone else can do it. But there are also things that you cannot do for yourself. Like what you did, sucking my peepee. That feels really very good, better than wanking. I love it when a woman wants to do that for me. But I cannot do it myself. Can you imagine a rusty old man like me trying to bend over to reach his own peepee with his mouth?”
I demonstrated, making a huge show out of trying to bend my back while grunting with pain. As expected, this made her giggle uncontrollably.
I waited for her to stop laughing. “So you asked, when we were in the shower and I diddled you, was that like when you sucked me. And now you know that the answer is no. When you sucked me, that was better, much better for me, then it was for you when I diddled.”

She lay silent, for a long time. Her hand still on my arm. Her eyes open. If someone had looked in they would have thought I sat there waiting for Grace to fall asleep. But I wasn't. I saw in her eyes that she was again trying to process the new information, to understand what I had told.
And then she turned her head to me. “Uncle Dave?”
“Yes, princess?”
“What you just said … that means that diddling and wanking are sort of the same?”
“Well … a boy peepee and a girl twinkle are very different so you do different things … but I think I understand what you mean. Yeah, they are sort of the same, in that way.”
“Then … is there anything for girls that is sort of the same as sucking a peepee for a guy?”
I took a deep breath. Delayed a second, to consider. Is this is where I should tell her off of being too young? Or is this still safe to answer? Normally, I would never explain this to an eight year old. But after what happened … I figured that the more Grace understood, the better her chances to process it, to not end up emotionally scarred.

“Yes there is also something like that for girls,” I replied softly. “A guy, or even another girl, can use their mouth and tongue on your peepee … I mean, on the peepee of a woman. And when they know how to do that, it feels better for her than diddling.”
“Eeewww, they need to use their mouth there? But that's where I pee! That's gross!”
I chuckled. “Well, some people think it's gross, but I really like it. And don't forget. I pee from my peepee too, and you sucked that. Was that gross for you?”
“Well … at first it was. Until I … until I actually did it. When I was thinking about it, I was really afraid. I expected it to be so gross. But I wanted to be all grown up like Rhonda, so I did it anyway. And then, when it was in my mouth … it was weird, very weird. But … no, not gross.”
I leaned in, kissed her gently on the mouth. “I am so proud of you for doing that. It is of course not something an eight year old should ever do. But it was still very brave of you to overcome your fear! And I am glad that it was not gross for you. I am sure that you will make your boyfriends very happy when you are a bit older.”

She smiled, content. She appeared to be dozing off so I decided to stay until she was asleep. But then suddenly her eyes opened once more.
“But how does it feel[/i], uncle Dave? How did it feel when I sucked you? And how does it feel when someone … when someone does … [i]that for me?”
“When you sucked me … when a woman sucks a man ... it feels … just good, really good. Like … fantastic good. And when someone licks and sucks a woman, then she feels the same. Well, no, not the same, I think. Women are not the same down there, I guess they don't feel really the same. But … it does feel really good for them. Or, well, that's what they tell me, when … after ...”
She smiled. “I know you often have girlfriends, uncle Dave. I understand that you do sex things with them. I may be only eight but I'm not stupid.”
I smiled. “Okay. That's what my girlfriends tell me after I lick and suck their twinkle.”

But Grace was not satisfied, “But, uncle Dave, 'really good' is not really an answer. I know that sex things feel 'good', everyone says so. But … but how exactly[/i] does it feel? I know that you don't know how it feels for a girl, you don't have a twinkle. But can you at least explain how it feels for a guy, for you? Not just 'good', but how it [i]really felt when I sucked your peepee?”

Once more she waited, patiently, while I considered my response. I had promised her honesty. In her face I saw the full confidence that she would get exactly that.
But in this case I couldn't be honest. Not because of her age, or any such thing. But just because I didn't know the answer. How do you explain how a blowjob feels. How the hell do you explain that![/i] I mean, other than just changing the adjective. [i]It feels good, damn good, fucking good.
And then I realized that this was already the honest answer.

“Honey, sweet little princess, I can't. I cannot explain that. Not because I don't want to, but because there is no way to describe it. It's like … how would you explain the taste of strawberries to someone who has never had them? How do you explain the smell of freshly mowed grass? How do you explain pink to a blind person?”
She pondered. I looked in her eyes and saw the wheels turning.
And then I made a mistake. Yet another mistake. Are you sure it was an accident?
“Or, to compare it to other sex stuff, let's say your best friend has never twiddled her cunn... twinkle. And she asks you how that feels. How would you explain that?”

I saw the aha-effect in her eyes. “Of course! I understand, uncle Dave. You cannot explain the taste of strawberries, or the smell of grass, or a color, you can only understand it if you taste it, smell it, see it. And if my friend ...”
And that was the exact moment that I recognized my mistake.
“Oh, if my friend would ask how it feels to twiddle her cunny,” she pronounced the word very deliberately, looking at my face to see how I'd respond.
Oh so she does know the word!
“... then I cannot explain how it feels but … but I could teach her how to twiddle so she can feel it.”
She paused. I noticed her blushing a bit, then lowered her voice, “Or I could do it for her so it is even gooder for her.”
I swallowed. This was the exact conclusion she should not have reached. But I nodded, still keeping my promise of honesty. I nodded, looked at her, remained silent.

She broke the silence. “Uncle Dave, since … Okay, I know you can't tell me how it feels. But … but you can let me know how it feels … in … in another way.”
She paused. Looked at me, expectantly. Was she hoping I would say it?
I didn't.
But eventually, she did.
Softly, barely a whisper: “You can do it for me, uncle Dave. Like … like you do for your girlfriends. Will you do it? Will you let me feel how it is when you … lick and suck my cunny?”

I was unable to swallow. My mouth felt completely dry.
“Please, uncle Dave? I know that I … that we are not supposed to. That I am too young. But I already … and you already … and … and I ...”
She took a deep breath, tried to calm herself. Looked at me with her puppy eyes.
“Please?”

My resolve broke. I smiled at her, nodded, and was rewarded by her big and thankful smile, the happy twinkle in her eyes.
“Okay, dear princess. I will lick and suck you … down there. Just promise me two things, okay?”
“What?”
“First, I want you to know that you don't have to. If at any time it makes you uncomfortable, just say so and I'll stop. Or if you want to stop for any other reason. I don't care why. If you want me to stop, promise that you will tell me?”
She nodded.
“And the other thing … you used the word cunny. That is a naughty word. And here, now, when we talk about sexy things, that's okay. It's even extra sexy. But please don't use that word around other people, okay?”
“D'uh. Of course, uncle Dave. I told you, I'm not stupid!”
I smiled. “No, little princess, you are not. I think you just proved that you are incredibly smart. Smarter than me.”

I stood up, then helped Grace get up so I could pull her nightie over her head. She wasn't wearing anything underneath.
“No undies?”
“Yeah, you said to put new ones on but it felt nicer without. When I went to bed … before you came back … I was kinda having a fantasy. That you would come and fondle me again. So I didn't want to have anything in your way … I'm sorry, uncle Dave. Are you mad at me?”
“No, my sweet princess, I am not mad. And right now I am happy to see your beautiful little cunny. I would like to fondle it again, but not now. I promised something else.” I winked at her and she blushed.

I gently helped her sit on the foot end of the bed and lay back her upper body. I then knelt down. A soft nudge to the inside of her thighs was enough to make her understand, make her spread her legs wide.
I took a moment to feast my eyes on her slit. Her completely hairless mound, the smoothness of which I had already enjoyed under the shower. The tight slit, closed, but already glistening with her young girl juices.
I inhaled, savoring her smell. And then I dove in, landed my entire mouth over her slit, lapped my tongue through the slit, from rear to front, then back again, enjoying her taste.
I applied a bit of pressure, tried to get my tongue between her folds, but her lips didn't give way. I would need to apply more pressure for that.
Not yet.
I heard her sigh deeply, heard her breathing speed up, as I moved my mouth to the upper part of her slit, where I knew her clitoris to be, applied suction. I heard Grace inhale sharply, then moan softly and contently.

I removed my mouth, placed my thumbs on her outer lips, then gently peeled them aside to look at the beauty within. The sheer knowledge that I was the first man ever to admire this beauty made it even more erotic than it already was. I drank in the sight with my eyes. The inner lips, neatly folded within the outer lips. The sensitive protrusion on top. The small dark hole, entrance to the vagina.
And then, while keeping the outer lips parted, I dove back in. I pushed my tongue against the vaginal opening, then moved upwards, wiggling slightly to stimulate both sides, until I felt her clit under my tongue, I twirled around it, sucked it in gently.
Grace was by now moaning and panting continuously. I've had a lot of lovers over the years, but none of them were as sensitive, as easily stimulated as this young child.

I went back to her vaginal opening, applied suction, filled my mouth with her juices. I swallowed, sucked and lapped more, swallowed again, enjoying the full, rich taste of her honey in my mouth. At the same time I moved my thumb to touch her clit. Her breathing went even faster, more and more inhalations sounding like gasps and squeals. I applied pressure to her clit, traced circles around it, played with it, all the time never stopping to lick and suck her opening.
I felt her body start to writhe under me. I applied some pressure with my arm and face to hold her pelvis in place, felt how the rest of her body compensated by moving and wriggling more, her breathing now turned into panting.

I did not relent. I increased the speed of my massaging motions on Grace's clit. And then I pushed my tongue against her vaginal opening, tried to get it in. I pushed, pushed, but her hole was too small, too tight.
Finally, after pushing as hard as I could, I felt the hole stretch, just enough. Felt the tip of my tongue enter the confined space of her vagina. And at the same time she let out a deep sigh, her whole body contracted, and a huge wave of girl juice washed over my tongue, poured down my chin, onto her bedsheet.
I knew she had an orgasm. But I didn't stop. Now that my tongue had finally managed to pry open the entrance, I pushed further. I extended my tongue as far as I could. I felt the walls of Grace's immature vagina press against it. She was tight, so incredibly tight. But I've always loved giving oral pleasure to my girlfriends, so my tongue is trained, muscular. I pressed, and I won. I pressed my tongue into this little girl until I couldn't get it any further.

I had focused on my tongue only to make sure I got it in. My thumb, still on her clitoris, had been still. It was now time to resume my massage of her most sensitive spot. At the same time I started to move my tongue in and out of my mouth, in and out of her young cunt, until I heard her panting stop, felt her body tense, then felt another wave of fluid as she orgasmed again.

I stopped my motions. My thumb was still on her clit. My mouth still on her slit, the tip of my tongue still inserted in her tight hole.
Finally, she spoke. “Wow. That was … That … Wow, uncle Dave!”
“Shhh,” I said, “we're not done yet.”

I had recalled something that had happened under the shower, something I could, perhaps, use to make Grace feel even better.
“Gracie, I want to ask … in the shower when I cleaned your poo hole. You seemed to like that?”
“Yes, it's weird. Mom also cleans me down there and I think she does the same but … with you it felt weird. Weird in a good way.”
I paused, pondered. “I want to try something. Some women like this. Some don't. If you don't just tell me.”
“You can try whatever you want, uncle Dave!”
“Okay. But you need to help. Can you lift your feet? Put them on my shoulders instead of on the floor?”
She did, and as expected this tilted her pelvis enough to give me a clear view of her buttocks, the cleft in between, and her star-shaped anus. I looked, smelled. Clean enough.

I dove in, placed my tongue directly on her anus, started licking the sensitive area.
“Uncle Dave, you cannot … that is … isn't that … oooohhhhhhhh”
She couldn't finish her sentence, overcome by the unexpected feelings.
I had judged her right. Not all girls like anal stimulation, but little Gracie surely did!
I took a deep breath, then pushed my head firmly into her crotch. My tongue massaged her little anus, and at the same time my nose pressed hard against her clitoris, adding even more to the plate of confusing and glorious feelings that Grace was experiencing right now. I held on for maybe a minute, then I had to disconnect and breath. But then I repeated this, pressing my tongue against her bumhole, seeking entrance.

I felt how her juices dripped down from her cunny. I mixed them with my saliva, pushed them into her anus, until I was convinced it was slippery enough for the next phase.
I then moved my mouth back up to her slit. I lapped, once more starting at her vagina, all the way to her clit, then back again. And again. At the same time, I placed my middle finger gently on her anus, started applying pressure. Her juices, my saliva, our sweat, all mixed together, had made her slippery, very slippery.
As I applied pressure, I felt her sphincter give way. I felt my finger enter her anus. Just a bit, at first, not more than when I was washing her. But this time I kept pushing. Slowly, gently, more and more of my middle finger disappeared in her rear entrance.
As I kept lapping, sucking, and massaging her clit, her labia, her vaginal entry, I kept pushing deeper and deeper, until finally I had my finger all the way in. I then pulled out, pushed back in again. Out, in. Lapping, sucking. Tasting her juices that kept flowing in an endless supply. Hearing her panting.

As I felt that she was nearing another orgasm, I increased the pace. I slammed my finger in and out of her anus, fingerfucked her with all my might. And at the same time, I pushed my tongue in her other hole, through the resistance of her tightness. Now separated by only her thin perineum, I felt the movements of my own finger against my tongue.

And then it came. Grace's biggest orgasm yet. She squealed. Her body started to convulse and spasm, her juices erupted.
I pressed her pelvis to the bed, afraid that her wild and uncontrolled motions while impaled on my finger would harm her. I kept my tongue in her vagina, not moving, because it was just too tight for me to move. And I kept pounding my finger in and out of her young ass.
And she? She just kept coming and coming and coming, until finally her body went limp, her breathing relaxed.

I stopped sucking, and gently removed my finger from her ass. Her whole body was limp, her feet slid down my back, dropped on the floor. I got up.
Was she asleep? Had she passed out?
And then her eyes fluttered. She looked at me, took a few seconds to focus. Then smiled. “That was really good, uncle Dave. You are the bestest!”
I'm not sure a jury of my peers would agree.
I smiled back. And then I walked around the bed, scooped her still limp body up, placed it on the proper spot of her bed. I looked at her nightie, forgotten next to the bed. Should I make her put it on?
I looked again, her body was so completely relaxed right now. I decided to let it be. So I just found the sheet, pulled it over her beautiful young body.

“It was my pleasure, sweet princess,” I replied.
Your pleasure indeed!
I then turned to leave. “Good night, little princess!”
“Good night kiss?” she pleaded.
I obliged, knelt down, ready to peck her on the forehead. But she had other plans. She pursed her lips, planted them on mine, left them there for a few seconds. As she removed her head, she licked her lips.
“Is that how I taste … down there?” she asked, then corrected herself: “is that how my cunny tastes?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Hmm. You're right, it's not gross. But … I dunno, weird I guess?”
“For me, it is the best taste I have ever tasted.”
She smiled. And then she noticed the bulge in my pants. “Ooh, you have an erep … erection again?”
“Yes, dear princess,” I replied softly.
She sighed. “That's good. It means you liked it, right? That's … nice.”
I remained silent for a few more minutes but she didn't speak anymore. She had drifted asleep. I silently turned, left the room, and gently closed the door behind me.

I passed the door to Cindy's room. The boy band was still playing, but all girls appeared to be asleep right now. While sleeping, they all looked so peaceful, so innocent. So very different from the girls whose tits I had fondled, who had felt, masturbated, titfucked, and sucked my dick.
I knew they were the same girls. I saw the same faces. And yet … how could these innocent little angels be even remotely related to those vixens?

I sighed, then descended the stairs. I found my beer waiting for me. Stale and lukewarm, so I poured it in the sink, opened the fridge for another one but then closed it again and poured myself a glass of whiskey instead.
I went to the room, sat down, whiskey in hand. I needed to review the day, collect my thoughts, sort out my feelings. Get to grips with myself. And, most of all, think about tomorrow, what to do, what to say, how to regain control of this group of girls.
But I couldn't. I was unable to focus.
The only things I could think of were the things I was hoping to push away. The feeling of Rhonda's tits, wrapped around my cock. The touch of Hannah's smooth legs. Ally tucking and pulling my dick, desperate to learn and explore. Savannah casually shrugging her shoulders as she exposed her small, conical tits. Cindy, shirt tucked casually over her shoulder, naked from the waist up, blowing a kiss over her shoulder and smiling slyly, invitingly. Grace, the feeling of my tongue on Grace's premature slit, the taste of her …

I was abruptly awoken by the sound of glass shattering on the floor. I must have drifted off, let the tumbler slip from my hands.
I looked at the clock. It had been just before two when I left Grace's room. It was a few minutes past two now. And I felt tired, so tired. Way too tired to think. Or to sit in a chair. Or even to clean up the shattered glass.
But I had to be responsible. The thought of one of the girls stepping in the glass tomorrow was enough motivation to get up, force myself to the kitchen, grab a cloth, and clear up the mess.
I threw away the cloth with the shards and whiskey remains, then dragged myself up the stairs, past Cindy's and Grace's bedrooms, to Bill and Mel's master bedroom.

I dropped my shirt to the floor, unbuckled and dropped my pants. I wanted to sleep in my boxers, but I only now felt how soaked with precum they were.
I had been so focused on pleasuring Grace that I hadn't even noticed.. But it made sense that my dick must have been rock hard and leaking precum all the time.
A faint voice in the back of my head whispered something smart about finding a new one, but I simply was too tired. Even keeping my eyes half open was already a struggle. And the girls had already seen me naked anyway.
So I simply dropped the wet boxers, walked to the bed naked, lifted a sheet, slid in.

And felt skin touch my skin. Warm, soft, sensual skin.

I fought back the sleep, struggled my eyes open. Dimly lit by moonlight falling in through the window, I saw Rhonda lying in my bed. Her translucent nightie was gone, she was wearing only her red string now. And she was awake.
“Hi Dave,” she whispered.

Somehow, somewhere deep inside, I knew that the right thing to do was to jump out of bed, shout something angry, and make her leave. But I lacked the energy to jump. Or to shout. Or even to whisper something angry.
“What? … Why …,” was all I could say.
She touched my lips with her finger. “Sorry Dave, but … I simply couldn't sleep in that tight corner. I kept bumping into the wall, feeling cramped. And this is a two person bed so I figured there should be room for me here.”
I opened my mouth, trying to find coherent words, but even my thoughts made little sense.
But she sensed what I wanted to say. “If you want to know why I didn't ask first, I wanted to but you were … kind of busy with Grace. I didn't want to interrupt. No, don't be scared. I heard her ask for it. I know why you did it and I think it was very sweet of you. If only my first time ...” Her voice faded.

I heard the words but they didn't connect, didn't register. I just wanted to sleep. I gave in. I was just too tired. I laid my head on the pillow, folded my hands on my stomach, and closed my eyes.
I felt Rhonda gently lift my head, felt how she moved me a bit, repositioned herself. Then she lowered my head back.
I vaguely recall wondering how the pillow had become so soft, and so warm, but then I drifted off.

I felt safe. Nice and safe. I felt loved, comforted.
I slowly found back to the normal world, didn't want to, wanted to stay asleep, but reality yanked me back from the comfort zone.
I felt a soft hand stroke my hair. Felt another hand play with the hairs on my chest. Felt my head, suspended by something soft, warm, smooth. Not a pillow, better than a pillow. It even smelt better than a pillow.

I opened my eyes and found myself looking in Rhonda's gray eyes. She smiled. I realized, slowly, that it was her hand that was playing with my hair. That it was her other hand on my chest. And then, finally, I realized that this soft cushion supporting my head was her bosom. She must have pulled my head on top of her chest when I drifted off, then gently rocked me to sleep.
I looked at the wall clock. I had slept for maybe twenty minutes, not more.
I felt refreshed, a bit. I was still tired but at least I could keep my eyes open, control my thoughts.

“I don't think you'll sleep this way.” I said.
“No,” she smiled, “but neither will you with that.” And with that she moved her hand down from my chest to my crotch, grabbed and squeezed my dick.
I only now noticed that it was rock hard, and smeared in precum.
“It was like that when you came in, and never got down. Not even when you slept. I guess you really enjoyed your time with Grace.”
I nodded, felt how my head movement made the cushion of her tits jiggle.
“Do you want me to help take care of that?”
“That's very sweet to offer, but you don't have to.” I lifted my head, moved it back to my actual pillow. “Now get some sleep, Rhonda.”

She didn't.
She leaned over, whispered in my ear. “Do you remember what I said what Grace was sucking your dick?”

My eyes shot wide open. Adrenalin rushed through my body. Gone was any thought of sleep.
Did I remember … Yes, yes of course I did!
“You said: 'Not yet, Dave. Not yet'. And that is one of the reasons I came because you said it right after I said 'fuck'. I don't think I'll ever forget.”
She smiled. Then whispered, in an almost pleading tone, “But what about now, Dave? Do you want to fuck me now?”

I felt my cock twitch. Her hand was still on it, she must have felt it. No point in denying. And yet, I couldn't just …
“Why, Rhonda? Why me? Why not someone your ...”
She interrupted me. “Why not someone my age?” She snorted. “I've fucked boys my age. Not as many as the other girls think, but I am no virgin. And they … I don't know, it just never feels good. Their dicks are small. And when they fuck me, they just hump a bit and shoot their wad and then go away and tell all their friends what a cheap ho I am.”

I turned towards her, looked at her face. Noticed how it appeared even more beautiful in the dim light of the moon. I gently stroked her hair, then kissed her softly on her cheek.
“Oh, I'm sorry dear Rhonda. What a terrible thing to say about you.”
She shrugged, “Well, I got over that. I'm more careful in my new school so it's all good. But I …” she struggled for words, not sure how to explain. Then, with a sigh. “I get orgasms when I masturbate. But I have not ever had an orgasm from someone else. All the boys I fucked … they[/i] came, [i]they[/i] had their fun. They didn't even [i]try to make me cum.”
I saw a tear swell in her eye, slowly start its path downwards. I kissed it off her face, tasted the salty aroma of her tear.
My one and only weakness. Really, you're sure you have no other weaknesses?
The one thing I could not say no to. A crying girl.

But I had to be honest. “Rhonda, I understand. And I want to … would like to … No, I should say: you deserve someone who can make you cum, show you how good sex can be. But me? Now? I am so tired right now. I'm afraid I'd fall asleep during foreplay.”
She chuckled, obviously thought it was a joke. Than she grabbed my hand, brought it to her pussy. I don't know when she had removed her string, but she definitely had. I felt soft skin with the subtle stubble of a fairly recent shave. My finger landed on her slit. It was hot and soaking.
“Feel this. I don't need foreplay. I mean … I saw …. I watched you with Grace. I'd love to have someday, somebody do that for me. I'd love you to be that somebody. But I understand that you are tired. Perhaps another day. Perhaps another man. But now I just want to fuck. Fuck you. I want to feel a real dick inside me. I want someone who lasts more than three thrusts. I know it's not very romantic. I think you want to make it romantic for me, that's the type of guy you are. But I don't need romance now. I don't need foreplay. I only need that gorgeous big dick of yours. I want to cum while feeling you inside me, while feeling your seed squirt in my womb. I'm on the pill, so please cum inside me, Dave?”

And with that, she pushed me back on my back, then climbed on top of me. She grabbed my dick, pointed it up to her cunt, then slowly lowered herself.
For a short moment, I felt only the heat, emanating from her pussy, warming my dickhead. Then the tight entrance of her tunnel hit the tip of my dick. I felt the pressure, felt how my hard dick and the force of her lowering body fought the resistance of her tight opening. And then her opening stretched, gave way, and I felt my cock enter her young vagina.
“Aaaahhh...” was all I could say as more and more of my dick entered the warm, wet, soft, firm, and most of all incredibly tight embrace of her cunt.
And “Aaaahhh...” was all I heard Rhonda say as my dick started to stretch her, to fill her from the inside.

She lowered herself, all the way down, until she was sitting on my crotch, her weight no longer supported by her arms but merely by my hips under hers. It felt so good. So hot. So … so tight. So incredibly tight. I had never before been with any girl as tight as Rhonda.
Yeah, that might be because she's only 13

Rhonda moaned, “Hmmmm, this feels good, Dave. So good. I've never been so full before. I'm so happy now!”
And then she started moving. She pushed her hips all the way up, slowly, until only the tip of my dick was still in her, then back down again. Up, and down. Slow at first, then speeding up, faster, faster, ever faster until she was just slamming her body up and down.
Despite how tired I was, I felt my body respond. I started moving with her, meeting her movements, thrusting my pelvis up as she lowered hers, back down as she raised hers.
I raised a hand, grabbed a tit, felt it, massaged it, kneaded it. I grabbed her by the back, pulled her towards me, pulled her body close to mine, pressed it against me so I could feel her tits against my chest. She couldn't move up and down from this position but I had taken over by now, thrusting my pelvis forward and back like crazy, invading her young cunt, retreating, invading again.

I rolled her over, pinned her body under mine. I looked at her gorgeous tits, looked how they moved and juggled with each forceful thrust of my dick in her cunt.
I lowered my head, met her lips, pushed my tongue in hers. And as I was invading both her mouth and her cunt, I moved a hand down, up to just above my thrusting dick, to find her clit. I pushed it, massaged it, squeezed it between two fingers … and then she came. Oh God, did she come.
Her body tensed, I felt ripple after ripple massage my shaft that was still firmly planted in her cunt. She started to scream, quickly grabbed the bedsheet and stuffed it in her mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise. “OH MY GOD!!!! Oh my god!! oh my … Hhhrrrrrrnnnnggggg. Aaaarrrrgghh. Ggggrrrrglgllg”

When she went silent, I gently removed the bedsheet, then leaned in to kiss her. She responded, then broke the kiss. “Did you cum already?”
I shook my head. “Not yet, dear.”
I had been close, very close, but I had managed to hold back. I wanted to last for this girl. She deserved to have a good experience.
I knew I would not be able to give her more than two orgasms. Not tonight. But I'd be damned if I didn't give her at least those two.

I withdrew my cock. She looked surprised. Surprised and disappointed.
I didn't explain, just said “lay on your side honey, back towards me.”
She obliged. I worked my right hand underneath her neck, laid it on her boob. Threw the other arm over her, found her cunt, played a bit with her clitoris. And then I guided my cock to her vagina, used my hand to guide it in, and thrust in as deep as I could.
I felt the tip of my dick touch her cervix, made sure to not push any further as I didn't want to hurt this sweet 13-year girl. I moved in and out, in and out, thrusting hard enough to give her maximum stimulation, but not so hard that I would hurt her cervix.
I used my right hand to massage her boob, play with her nipple, squeeze and press it. Attacked her clitoris with my left hand, rubbing it, occasionally pinching it between my fingers. And my mouth found her mouth, nibbled her lips, sucked on her tongue, invaded her mouth with mine.

I was sweating all over, grunting, panting, thrusting in and out in pure animalistic lust. And she was sweating, grunting, and panting too. I felt her getting closer, ever closer. Felt myself getting closer.
Then I saw her reach for the bedsheet, stuff her mouth again.
“Ooooaaahhhhnngggrrrrr. Aaarrggh”. Her next orgasm washed over her, and now I was unable to hold back any longer. I thrust my dick all the way in, felt my balls contract, felt how I fired shot after shot of my perverted sperm deep inside Rhonda's underage womb.

I didn't pull out. I just laid there, silent, in the afterglow of my glorious orgasm.
Rhonda turned her head towards me, kissed me on the lips. “Thank you, Dave. This really meant a lot to me.”
She then rolled back, rested her head on my right arm, and appeared to doze off.

I just laid still. Rhonda's hole was so tight that even as my cock went limp, it did not fall out. I could have pulled back, but I liked the feeling. The warmth. The pressure. The weird squishiness of her juices and my juices slowly leaking out of her cunt, past my dick, over my balls and ass (and probably over hers too).
It felt nice. Cozy. Cozy in an erotic way.

I closed my eyes. The day took its toll. Sleep took over. On the bed of my sister, with my limp cock still buried inside my nieces young friend, with my hand on her tit, I entered a deep and dreamless sleep.

When I woke up, hours later, we were still in the same position. My cock, semi-erect once more, was still in Rhonda's underage cunt. My hand was still on her gorgeous breast. Nothing had changed, except for two things.
The first was that there was more light now, as the sun had risen and was bathing my sister's bedroom in sparkling light.
And the second was that we were no longer alone.


Continue to: Part 7: The morning after >> | << Return to: Part 5: Good night, sleep … << Table Of Contents << P.D. Vile's stories