I looked at the clock and it was approaching eleven o'clock. I wasn't sure what we'd be doing next, but what ever it was, I was pretty sure it would involve acts or actions that would go beyond noon, and I was starting to feel a tinge of emptiness in my stomach. "Angel, can I make a suggestion?" I asked my young bedmate.

"What?" she asked quickly.

"Why don't we dress enough to be presentable in case someone stops by, then go down stairs and have some lunch. When we're done we can come back up here and do some more things and we won't be interrupted by hunger?"

"I guess that would be okay," she told me. "Can people see me down there if I just wear my panties and bra?" she continued.

"No, I think you will be okay. I'll put my clothes on just incase somebody comes by. If they do, you can go to the pantry or bathroom and hide there."

I pulled my shirt and gym pants on and then helped Angel slip into her blue panties and bra. I did take the liberty of dragging my finger between her pussy lips and kissed her nipples as I helped her. My actions elicited giggles when I touched her and a big hug when I was done.

I fixed hot dogs topped with chili and cheese with some potato salad. She must have been starving, because she quickly downed the first hot dog and asked for another. I served it up to her before I sat down to eat mine. When I put the second in front of her, I also provided a couple chocolate chip cookies on her plate for desert. We washed it all down with some milk.

I was still finishing up my last cookie when she started moving things to the refrigerator and the sink. "Are you in some kind of hurry or something?" I asked her.

"Yeah, I want to learn some more sex stuff. Come on, eat your last cookie and finish your milk so we can go back up," she insisted.

As we walked toward the steps, she again took my hand in hers and led the way. To me it was obvious I had won her heart at least for now. She was anxious to learn, and I was equally very keen to teach. As we topped the stairs, she said to me, "Mr. Mitchell, I think we should both go to the bathroom before we go back to your bedroom, don't you think? I always have to pee after I eat."

We were standing just outside the main bathroom so I turned on the light, ushered her in, and put the seat down.

She reached out and lifted the seat to the upright position. "You go first, okay. I want to see you pee first."

"Sure, if you want me to."

"Yeah, I do. Do you want me to hold your thing while you pee?"

"Have you done it before?"

"Uh, yes," she responded after a brief hesitation.

"Where did you do that, with Bobby?"

"Uh huh. He made me do it when he peed, I just held my hand there for him, but I would like to move it and write in the water for you," she told me. "May I?"

"If that's what you want to do, then do it," I told her as I slid my gym pants and shorts down around my ankles.

She looked at my man-tool and remarked, "It don't look like Bobby's."

"What do you mean?"

"I could see the end of his thing. It sort of looked like a mushroom," she said.

"Oh, I know what you mean. His parents had him circumcised when he was born probably. Most younger guys are like that now. Let me show you what you have to do with mine," I said to her.

I was already well stimulated, with her in the bathroom with me and talking about holding my cock, so it was not difficult to pull my foreskin back to reveal the mushroom to which she was referring. "Here, let me show you what you can do. You put your fingers just behind the head of my penis, and while you're pushing down slightly, slide your hand back this way. See, just like that," I said as I demonstrated for her.

"And, by the way, what your calling a 'thing" is my penis. This is called my foreskin. That's how a boy baby is born. Most parents today have the doctor cut it off to help keep it cleaner."

"How does it get dirty?" she asked.

"It doesn't if the guy takes proper care of it. If he doesn't though, it can become a problem. Stuff builds up under the foreskin and can cause irritation or even smell. Older girls have to take special care of their parts too, or they will smell," I said.

"Does it hurt when you pull it back?"

"No, let me show you," I said taking hold of her hand. I showed her how to slip my foreskin back and reveal the head of my penis. "Now, does it look like Bobby's?"

"Uh huh, and it feels hard and hot like his too," she indicated.

"You better aim it toward the toilet," I cautioned, "I'm about to have to let my pee go and you'll end up with it all over if you don't."

She laughed and pointed it as directed.

It felt good to pee after much anticipation. It felt even better too to have her hand on my cock too.

When the stream ended, I squeezed the last couple dribbles to exit then told her to use a couple squares of tissue to blot it before she allowed the foreskin to roll forward to it's usual position.

"You mean you wipe too?" Most guys just shake it off and zip up there pants," she indicated.

"When I'm someplace where I can wipe, I do, but it's not a necessity, I told her.

"My mom gets mad at me sometimes because I don't wipe after I pee either" she admitted. She stood there a few seconds after I was done, apparently thinking about something. "Do you want me to pee in the toilet or pee in the in your bathtub?" she asked. "If I sit in the tub, you can see where it comes out a lot better."

It didn't take me over about a half of a second to decide, and then ask her, "If you pee in the tub, can I take some pictures while you do?"

"Will you let me see them?" she asked. "I can feel it down there, but I've never seen the hole where my pee comes out."

"Sure, I'll let you see all of them. Let me go get my camera. You should probably take your panties off while you're in the tub," I said.

When I got back, probably no more then thirty seconds or so, she had taken off both her panties and bra and was laying in the tub with her head away from the drain and feet propped up on the top at the drain end.

"Do you want me to reach down and pull my lips apart?" she asked. "That way you'll be able to see the hole where it's coming from. That's what I really want to see," she point out.

"Do you mind?"

"No, I really want to be able to see everything I can and that'll help," she said.

My camera would take up to seventy seconds of video. I decided to use that because I could always pick individual frames and display them as photos. My only real worry was that the video would run out before her bladder did. I pointed the camera between her legs and told her I was ready. I pressed the button on the camera and started recording. A fraction of a second later, the first drops of amber and somewhat acrid liquid began flowing, arching from her urethra through the air for about eighteen inches before splashing against the end of the tub and cascading to the floor were it ran down the drain.

Finally, I saw the stream diminish. Another couple of seconds and the flow ended with a couple drops dribbling out and slowly running between her sweet lips, over her vagina and poop chute and to the floor. I quickly popped out the memory stick and pressed another in my camera.

I was happy that I was able to video the whole thing, start to finish, but now, I thought of a bit more we could do. "Angel, can we try something else?"

"What," she asked.

"Can you push like you're trying hard to poop? This will cause your vagina and butt to open a little bit and I can take some pictures of that too,"

"Can I see them too?" she asked.

"Sure, I'll share all the video and photos I take with you."

"Quickly, she began pushing as I suggested. Her butt strained outward to the point that it was open in the center almost as big as a led pencil. Her vagina too was bulging. Finally, I succumbed to the beckoning of her body, and slowly pressed my finger against it. Her pee made it wet and allowed my finger to slip inward maybe as far as two inches.

When she felt my finger violate her baby chute, she quickly grabbed my hand with hers and held me there. "That feels strange," she said.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, not really, just feels funny."

"Can I try to push it a little deeper?" I asked.

"Okay, but if I tell you it hurts, you've got to stop and take it out," she told me.

I gently pressed inward as I concentrated my gaze on her vagina. She was again straining as I asked her. Her little entrance was bulging nicely. I felt my finger pass the innermost constriction of her rectum to where it widened slightly then wiggled my finger inside for a few seconds.

"That feels really strange," she said.

"Does it feel bad strange or good strange?" I asked her.

"Sort of good strange," she answered.

"Well, maybe sometime we'll try it some more, okay. For now, I'll take it out and wash my hands. Just stay there," I directed.

I turned to the sink and washed my finger thoroughly then while my finger was still wet, I turned back to Angel and put my finger to her vagina."

"Are you going to put your finger inside there too?" she asked.

"May I?"

She nodded her head in answer.

Now, I not only could feel her tender preteen vagina, but I was also able to see it first hand, close up, and watch my finger slowly disappear inside. I pressed gently, forcing my finger deeper inside. She was wet and my finger easily slipped in to the point where I was able to feel the raised bump of her tiny cervix. With my finger embedded to the hilt, I slowly and cautiously began sawing in and out in short strokes. I limited the overall travel to maybe an inch or a little more that I would in no way injure her delicate insides. I had an ulterior motive as well. If and when she was, finally ready to copulate with me for the first time,

I hoped that the jerky kid, who was first to spoil her, had not totally ravaged her cherry. I could feel enough tautness about my finger to suggest she might grace me with some hymen blood. I really didn't know why it seemed so important to me that I be the one to be able to pick her cherry.

As I continued to probe her vagina, I looked to her face. She was starring back at me. When she saw me looking at her, she smiled broadly and told me, "Your finger inside me feels good, almost too good," she told me.

"What do you mean, too good?"