Carlos's hands trembled on the wheel as he nudged the Toyota GT86 through the interminable downtown traffic. Sweat beaded his brow despite the air-con. Just one week ago his life had changed, a mad, dangerous change but one he couldn't shake off. Didn't want to shake off. Really didn't.

The man called Pedro. Four other guys. A hotel room. A girl. A young girl, schoolgirl, an outrageous slut of a girl. They'd fucked her, all of them, fucked her up the ass in the seedy hotel room, and she'd loved it. Really loved it! A real-life Lolita, and a slutty one at that. What was she, eight, nine? Eight he remembered Pedro saying. Eight years old and hot for cock. How fucking awesome was that! And what was even more fucking awesome - he knew the school she went to. He'd recognized the school badge on her polo shirt just before she'd stripped it off for them, and IT WAS THE SCHOOL HE SAT ON THE BOARD OF GOVERNORS OF!

The guy in the next lane leaned on his horn and Carlos tweaked the wheel, corrected the drift. Fuck! The image of the girl's wide, soft mouth going down on him... her sparkling eyes and tight, wet backside... Fuck he was going to crash the car at this rate.

He'd barely slept for four nights, throwing ideas back and forth in his head. He wanted her again, wanted her so much, wanted to take her, lick her, fuck her, own her. Fuck he wondered if she was a virgin. No way! No way could such a slut-child be a virgin. Fuck, his cock up her cunt! Fuck how good would that be? Fuck her tight little girl's cunt and cum inside her again. Cum in all her eager young orifices, all night long. All weekend long! She really loved cock, it was in her eyes, you could see it, feel it in the way her tongue licked and probed. He wondered where she'd learned it, and for the twentieth time wondered if Pedro got her regularly. Lucky bastard!

But if Pedro, why not him? He knew where she went to school, he was a Governor on the School Board for fuck's sake! Go to the school. Find her. Claim her.

No. Too dangerous. The hotel-thing had been bullet proof - well, pretty much. Pedro had fixed things real well, made certain assurances that were cast-iron. Stalking her around the corridors of Santa Maria Magdalena's, though! That was way different, way out of line. No fuck was worth that risk. Not even the hottest piece of child-ass he'd ever encountered, before or probably ever again. Child-ass? Any ass! But no. Too dangerous. Way too dangerous.

He nosed the GT through the school gate and found one of the "Governors Only" parking bays. He killed the engine and sat, hands shaking in his lap.

It was the last week of school, the last few days of the school year and there was lots of not much happening. He watched a group of youngsters come chasing around the corner, their polo shirts daubed with end-of-term messages from their friends. Childish laughter, high and clear. It reminded him of her. Fucking hell!

He blipped the car locked as he strode across the main school playground. A couple of young boys gave it admiring glances, and he winked at them as he passed. "Work hard, boys, study hard and one day you can have a car like mine!" They grinned at him.

The main hallway was bustling with kids. He slowed as he pushed through the double doors, sure of his purpose but a little unsure of his tactics. So many kids! So many boys and girls in various states of excitement and holiday-craziness. White shirts everywhere, all covered in names and graffiti of a more-or-less tasteful nature. Plenty of cute young girls, some really tiny ones, some with genuine boobs, all laughing and giggling and heading this way and that on purposes he couldn't fathom. If he stopped and stared he'd very quickly start to look like a dangerous predator...

The school office - minutes of the last Governor's meeting, and reports and notes for the upcoming inspection! That was his pretext. He knew Concepcion in the office. Good. Moving again, he threaded his way through the streams of children, keeping an eye out for his girl. His heart thudded in his chest, but over the din in the hallway no-one else would hear it.

Concepcion was a little surprised by his visit, but happy to help. She was already preparing the material for the school staff meeting next week, and an advance copy to one of their few dedicated and interested Governors was no trouble at all. Within a few minutes, Carlos was back out in the hallway, leaning nonchalantly by a window, leafing slowly through a sheaf of papers while his eyes scanned the crowds.

What was he doing? What if she'd been drugged or something and had reported everything to the police? What if she saw him and screamed and pointed and yelled "Rapist!" or something? Fuck it had been dark in the shitty hotel room, probably too dark for her to describe him to the cops, but what if she saw him again and it triggered memories from her drugged-up mind? Fuck! The bundle of notes shivered.

But no! She'd wanted them, the little whore. She wasn't faking, wasn't forced, wasn't coerced in any way. Her eyes said so. Her lips said so. Her little moans as she took them up her ass one after the other said so. Her "yeah yeah yeah" as he'd fucked her, oh God so tight and hot and wet, that slender back stretched out beneath him, smooth, silk-soft skin, dark hair splashed across the bedsheet. She glowed golden in the room's dim light, a golden whore, eight years old, begging grown men to fuck her.

Shit. His hands shook and his cock swelled inside his boxers. Shit. It was OK. She was a real, true little Lolita slut. She wouldn't yelp - but fucked if he'd ever find her in this crowd. He was just about done making meaningless notes on the sheaf of paper. Couldn't stay there forever.

And there she was.

Pushing through a set of double doors 10 yards away, a gaggle of girls, giggling and gossiping. Eight, nine year olds, and there, right in the middle, his girl. She was laughing aloud, her smile broad and happy. Her hair was tied back in a loose, rough ponytail, a style that suited her. Thick blue marker pen covered her white school shirt - possibly the same shirt Carlos had last seen lying on the floor as those soft, wide lips had sucked his cock slowly and expertly. The bundle of notes drooped in his hands; his cock responded the other way, suddenly stiff, instantly erect in his pants. Fuck, was it visible?

The girls were getting closer. She hadn't seen him. Fuck, what should he do? The sight of her inflamed him. His heart thudded, his cock strained. Memories flooded him. He smelled her again, smelled the gentle scent of her warm, coffee-colored skin beneath the hot sex-stink of the hotel room. His fingers tingled, remembering the touch of her skin, her hair as she sucked him. He wanted to tangle his fingers in that rich, soft hair, wanted those lips again, wanted to kiss her all over her slender young body, lick her between her legs, ejaculate in her and on her and -

She looked up, saw him.

She didn't scream. She didn't start or jump or panic. She paused, a fraction of a second, and then she smiled. It was devastating. Her eyes locked with his and her smile spread from there, and it said yes, you, yes, I know, yes, I did, yes, you did, yes, we did, yes, yes, yes.

Sabrina laughed as she pushed open the door. Maria's joke had been crap, but hey, school was nearly out and nothing could deflate her buoyant mood. They'd been talking about wee-wees, and Isabella had related in hushed, horrified tones how she'd seen her big brother's wee-wee "all stiff like a cucumber!" last night as she was passing his room. Maria had giggled uncontrollably and said something silly about cucumbers, and Sabrina had laughed, all the while thinking, mmm, I would help your big brother with his cucumber. She remembered Isabella's brother, a rather gangly teenager, but hot enough, especially if he had a cock like a cucumber.

A little frisson of delight tingled between her thighs and she squeezed her muscles, flexing her vagina. Mmm, maybe a little rub in the toilets might have to be the next thing - Isabella had set her off on one. Still smiling, she glanced across at the well-dressed guy loitering by the window. Nice butt. She looked up, to see him staring straight at at her.

It took a second before recognition struck. His eyes were boring into hers, flames flickering in their depths. Those eyes! That face, so male, so commanding. The fingers holding the bundle of paper had held her head as he'd thrust his long, straight cock into her mouth in a slow, delicious fuck that had made her so wet between the legs. The memory caused a twin tingle along the insides of her thighs and a flush of wetness filled her young vagina. Her knees trembled. Oh he was lovely! Oh she would do anything for him!

"Sab?" Maria had noticed she'd stopped. Oh his eyes! She sensed the fire in them. He was here for her! He'd come looking for her! Oh sweet, hot... Oh... "Oh! Oh, I just remembered I left my phone on the desk in Mrs Gomez's class! Oh Maria, don't wait - tell Isabella I'll see ya all later!"

"What are you like, Sab!"

But Sabrina was already turning back through the doors. She looked back, smiled and waved at her friends; her eyes scanned his face as she turned back. Follow me, they said. He understood. Oh God he understood! He was following her, carefully, not too hurriedly, but he was following. She pushed through the doors, headed along to the first corner and turned. The streams of children were reducing to a trickle here, and Sabrina paused a little way from the corner. Within seconds he turned, and paused, staring at her again. His burning eyes told her everything he was thinking, everything he wanted. More wetness flooded her vagina; she felt her panties damp against her pussy.

She looked down at his crotch. The bulge was unmistakable to an eye as trained as hers. More wetness, between her legs and in her mouth as saliva flooded in at the memory of his dick in her mouth. Sweet chocolate he had tasted of. Oh God! She looked again at his face. He was looking around, but suddenly seemed to recognise where he was. He'd been here before. He knew where he was going next. His eyes snapped back to hers and he jerked his head, a small movement, but enough. He walked past her, so close! Her small hands trembled and she had to fight the urge to reach out and touch him, touch the proud, delicious bulge in the front of his soft, gray suit.

"Follow!" he hissed.

He was magnetic. She wanted to hold his hand, have him lead her to wherever he wanted to go, lead her, show her, teach her all the things she didn't yet know, teach her how to please him. She fell in behind him as he swept along the hallway, turning left into a quieter corridor. His stride was purposeful, masterful. He knew what he wanted, and that sent another wet flush into her young vagina. A shiver ran through her, top to bottom, as she remembered his penis entering her anus on the rickety bed in the Hotel Magnifico.

Another corner, another turn, and she understood where he was going. They came to a double door. He pushed through, then paused and held it open for her. His eyes flared at her, part lust, part warning. She stepped through demurely, smiling up at him, trying to control her face. A short way along the hall, a teacher had stepped from a classroom, locking the door and heading their way.

The man smiled winningly. The teacher - Mrs Munoz, she was fairly sure, early years' Deputy Principal - smiled back, a little uncertainly. She slowed as she approached the doors. "Can I help you?" she asked, looking from the man to Sabrina. "Sabrina, isn't it?"

The man coolly held out his hand. "Carlos Diaz, Board of Governors, Mrs...?"

"Oh, erm, Munoz," she replied, "Asuncion Munoz, Deputy Principal, Early Years. Very pleased to meet you." Sabrina could see her mental context changing as she reappraised the situation.

"I've been trying to do what I can in readiness for the upcoming inspection," he continued, brandishing the bundles of paper in his hands. "Being a bit nosey, perhaps, but I know Jose is very keen for the school to do the best it can. The office were very busy so - I'm sorry, Sabrina, yes? - Sabrina offered to show me the way to the farther corners."

Sabrina squeezed her thighs together. The man's - Carlos! - the man's effortless out-maneuvering of nosy Mrs Munoz was so cool, so hot. The Deputy Principal "ah-yes- wonderful-thank you"-ed, impressed, flustered even by the man's casual use of the Principal's first name and his straightforwardly commanding manner. She even smiled down at Sabrina and thanked her, before hurrying on through the door, faintly embarrassed.

Carlos let the door close behind her, and grinned down at Sabrina. His smile was that on the face of the jaguar, his eyes glowing. He held his hand out; she took it. His fingers were strong, his palm cool. He didn't speak, just drew her with him, further along the hall, right, and through the first door.

The First Grade girls' toilets.

Carlos's head was spinning, his mind swimming in a cocktail of fear and adrenalin and lust. His cock throbbed in his pants; how the Munoz woman hadn't spotted it, or the damp patch on his suit pants he could not understand. Bitch had nearly derailed things, but he was in control. He charmed her, overawed her and brushed her off - and the girl was his.

Last time she had been in control, playing the five of them like a band even as she offered her young body to them. This time he has the bandmaster, and her sweet, hot eight-year-old body was his to conduct. The door to the little ones' toilets banged shut behind them as he dragged her in. He heard her moan, her little girl's voice charged with tones far older. He spun around, pulling her slight form to him, gazing down at her upturned child's face. Her eyes searched his, beseeching him to command her.

He kissed her, fiercely, full on her wide young mouth. She gasped. Her lips parted. His tongue probed her sweet mouth - she was warm and wet and tasted of Juicy Fruit. He bent slightly, grabbing her toned little butt with one hand, reaching for the hem of her school skirt with the other. He lifted her skirt, his fingers brushing the silk-smooth skin of her thighs and seeking her pussy. Her panties were wet, and he grunted incoherently into her mouth as he hooked his finger inside them and slid it straight up her hot, slick cunt. Fuck! Smooth, bald, slick, hot, dripping with sweetness. And no virgin! Slut!

He broke the kiss. "Slut!" he hissed. "Slut-child!" His finger worked in her cunt, sliding deeper, probing, wriggling. Her thighs trembled. She moaned - "yes..." - and stumbled back into the door. She reached down, hauling up her skirt, baring her thighs, exposing her crotch, thrusting it at his hand. "Yes, mister! Ohhhh!"

His hand was inside her white panties now, rubbing her smooth pussy, one finger buried to the last joint in her hot, slippery cunt. He kissed her again, hard, his tongue insistent. She clutched his ass, her little fingers scrabbling against the gray silk. His finger was soaking in her schoolgirl wetness. He pulled it out, leaning back, and raised his hand to her lips. Without a word he pushed his cunt-wet fingers into her mouth. She sucked them, her tongue licking between them as she tasted herself off his hand. Keeping her skirt lifted, she let go with her trembling right hand to claw at the front of his pants, grappling with the tight outline of his cock.

She held his gaze as she sucked his fingers, her skirt held high, her pussy peeking from the leg of her panties. He put his other hand on top of hers, pressing them into the bulge of his cock. Fuck yeah.

"Ah, fuck. Ah, fuck. Fuck. Come on. Come here, slut!"

He pulled her across the tiles into one of the child-sized cubicles, shouldering the door open with a crash. He dragged her in, tight against him; her fingers were struggling with the buckle on his belt. He shoved the door closed and stepped back, straddling the mini-toilet. We watched the avid little girl, her soft, brown face a mask of concentrated childlike lust as she freed his belt. He braced his hands either side of the cubicle, knees bent, thighs hard, abdomen tense. She open his pants, fingers avid, grabbed his boxers and pulled.

Her moan as his pants slithered down and his cock sprang out was at once childish and oh so filthy. She looked up at him. Their shared gaze sizzled and crackled. Slowly her face descended, her mouth opening. He groaned, involuntarily. His knees bent and he sank towards the miniature toilet, his glistening cock pursued by her soft, wet mouth. She caught him just before his butt hit the tiny seat, her wide lips closing around the tight red head of his cock.

Ahh! Ahh fuck!

The toilet seat was only 15 inches off the floor. He leaned back on it, his knees wide and high, his pants pooled around his feet, as the schoolgirl dropped to her own knees, her mouth sucking avidly on his cock. He was hard, utterly rigid, his cock standing straight, a war-spear of the old gods. Drools of her saliva already trickled down it, her mouth so wet, so eager to consume him. Her tongue rolled and wriggled around his cockhead. Her sucking was deep, a delicious sensation, suction reaching all the way down into his balls. Fuck she was hot! A better blow-job he'd never had, and this from an eight-year-old schoolgirl!

"Mmm, fuck, girl. Yeah! Fuck! Mmm! Hold my balls! Fuck, grab my fucking balls!"

The girl's eyes sparkled. She reached into the toilet bowl and cupped his hanging balls in one small hand. Carlos groaned in delight as she squeezed and tugged in an almost-expert way. She rolled his balls between her fingers, weighing them against her cool palm. Her lips never left his cock. Another squirt of saliva escaped, dribbling down his shaft to pool in the hair at the base of his cock. She smeared it across his balls with her thumb.

Oh fucking hell!

Carlos writhed, his cock and balls tingling every which way at the girl's touch. He reached out a shaking hand and twined his fingers into the soft, silken hair of her ponytail. He tugged her head up. Her eyes glowing, she sucked hard, her cheeks imploding as her mouth plopped off the end of his dripping cock, saliva and precum splattering across his thighs. A long strand of drool hung between them; as he watched, it snapped and splattered her polo shirt, a dribble remaining dangling from her chin. Fuck yeah! He held her head, gazing at her pretty little schoolgirl face, flushed, wet, horny, gorgeous.

"Fuck girl, you are a fucking dream come true! Oh, fuck, you fucking little slut!"

He groaned again and pushed her head down. She pursed her lips, tightening them as his cock entered her mouth. She worked her lips hard across the ridge of his cockhead; all his nerves twanged as the slut worked him.

"Oh, God, little bitch! Oh yesssss...!"

He squirmed, hauling his shirt up with one balled fist, baring his straining abs, thrusting his hips forward. Oh, fuck take it, you slut! He tightened his grip on her ponytail and pushed her lower. His cock slid through her mouth, into her tight young throat. He felt it working around him as she took him in, swallowing his cock like a pro whore. Tight, wet - ahhh God! He held her there, the ripples in her throat squeezing his cock, her gag reflex his fabulous pleasure, then let her come up for air. Thick slime hung from his cock and her lips, lips spread wide in a grin of exhilaration. She tossed her head and closed a small hand around his dick, squeezing and stroking, her throat-slime lubricating as she jerked him.

"Ahhh!" hissed Carlos. "Mmm, you like that, slut? You like my cock down your throat?"

"Ah-hah," replied the girl, running her tongue around her slick-wet lips in a strikingly gauche gesture of sexiness, a gesture that reminded Carlos how young she was, a gesture that made his cock twitch.

"Tell me!" he ordered, pulling her head to one side. Her fingers slipped around his cockhead, twisting, making him shiver. She grinned. "I love your cock down my throat, Mr Diaz. I love your cock in my mouth and down my throat, and in my bottom." She licked him, slowly, her tongue running firmly up the hard ridge of his urethra. He leaned back again, letting go of her hair. She stroked steadily, squeezing hard, licking him, watching him, grinning - a sexed-up feral girl-child in a neat school uniform.

"Finger your cunt," he gasped. "Put your fingers inside. Get your fingers wet with your cunt juice, then stick them up my ass! Shove your cunty fingers up my ass you slut!"

She moaned, high and quavering. Her free hand descended between her thighs. She spread them wide on the wet tiles of the cubicle, dropped sheets of toilet paper sticking to them as she felt for her pussy. Carlos leaned over, watching her slide one, two little fingers into her glistening cunt. A long, shuddering sigh escaped him. Her eyes never left his face as she fucked herself, a curiously childish gesture, pulled her two wet fingers out and reached between his legs into the bowl of the toilet. He shifted his butt as he felt her fingers probing, then the first found his asshole and pushed right up. Mmm! Oh yeah! A delicious feeling! Little girl's fingers up his ass, all covered in little girl cunt-juice!

She wiggled them and slid two fingers up, pushing deep, wriggling them in his rectum. All the time she stroked and licked his cock, running her tongue from his balls to his hole, squeezing her fingers in a tight O-ring around his cockhead, encircling the base and jiggling. She was unbelievable, unbelievable in her knowledge of a man's sexual anatomy. Unbelievable, addictive. He would never get enough sex with this little girl.

Ahh! Carlos writhed in ecstasy, no longer the bandmaster, just an instrument in this little whore's hands. She played his cock, his balls, his asshole, played him up and down, and he loved it. In the tiny, squashed cubicle of a First Graders' toilet, Sabrina the eight-year-old schoolgirl played him and sucked him and jerked him until he could barely think. The sensations roared through his nerves, from deep in his balls to high in his belly. His muscles were rock. His sex-glands pumped out precum and hormones and the girl sucked them greedily and milked him for more. He felt her probing, reaching fingers deep in his asshole, so close to discomfort, but much, much closer to a sexual intensity he'd never known.

Several times she pulled her fingers out to lick them ostentatiously, showing him she loved the taste of his ass. Other times she reached up a hand for him to spit into, great globs of saliva, which she smeared down over his cock, or sucked into her own mouth before gobbling him again. Her face was glowing red, smeared wetly with saliva and other juices, his and hers. Her polo shirt was splattered and stained. Fluids dribbled through his pubic hair, dripping in long, slimy strands into the toilet below.

Oh fffffffffuck ohhhhhhhhhh!

He heard himself chanting: "yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah." Her fingers were fucking his ass; he could feel a constant flow of precum oozing into her mouth, dribbling down her chin and his cock. Fuck he'd never squirted like that before, and now... Oh fuck, now... He couldn't hold on any longer!

Oh fffffuck!

He slammed his palms hard against the cubicle walls as he started to cum. Into her mouth he ejaculated, shuddering, juddering, jerking - and she sucked him like a milkshake. He felt the cum being sucked from his balls in a never-ending stream, one long, massive stream of cum filling her mouth. She swallowed, gulping him down, sucking him hard, sucking him dry. Half a minute? He couldn't tell; it seemed forever, one endless orgasm, squirt after squirt of semen, precum, everything, all gobbled down by the slut-hot schoolgirl kneeling between his thighs...

God-damn. He was panting, his belly heaving, thighs trembling, balls aching gloriously. God-damn. The girl was licking the last oozings from his cock, her mouth still avid. His cock was hard still, didn't feel like it would ever go down again. God-damn! The girl, Sabrina, looked up at him, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. God-damn she looked so hot, beautiful, vulnerable, sexy, all at once. He reached down, taking her hands, pulled her onto his lap. She straddled him, her crotch sliding down to nestle against his cock. He hugged her, licked her soft, wet mouth. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed back, hard, fierce, a child in passion.

His cock shaft lay between her pussy lips, part in, part out of her panties. Her pussy was deliciously smooth, hot and wet against him. He moved one hand down between her legs to push his cock hard up against her, suddenly conscious of needing a pee really badly. She ground her crotch back, her mouth sweet and hot against his. Damn he really did need to piss now.

The hallway door slammed. "Come on them, quick! Here." A woman's voice, a harried mother!

The cubicle door rattled! Sabrina's hand whipped round, pressing his lips. He tensed, his fist balling.

"Oop, no, sweetie, see someone's in that one! Come on, this one next door!"

Carlos was motionless, the girl on his lap likewise. They both stared at the cubicle wall as the mother and child banged and fussed their way in. Rustling, chattering, whining, exasperation - fucking hell hurry up, thought Carlos! His bladder was on the verge, the urge to piss almost overwhelming.

Bang! Something struck the cubicle wall. Carlos flinched, and a spurt of hot piss squirted out, splashing up Sabrina's stomach under her skirt, trickling down into her panties. "Don't kick the wall, sweetheart," came the mother's voice. "Sorry!" This to them, though Carlos wasn't listening. He stared in mixed consternation and lust at the girl he'd just pissed on. Her eyes were closed, her back arched. A soft, low sigh escaped her and she slowly raised her skirt. "Yes..." she breathed.

"Are you alright in there? Hello?"

Carlos squirted again. His cock was hard, rigid against her pussy and belly, and his piss fountained across her smooth, brown skin, running down to wet her panties. Sabrina moaned. He wet her again, his piss pooling slightly between his cock and her pussy before trickling down and dripping into the toilet beneath them.

"Ye-es!" called Sabrina. "I'm fine. Thanks!"

Carlos pissed on her, washing her belly, her pussy, soaking her panties. The slut leaned back, his piss flooding up to wet the waistband of her skirt. She held his gaze, her eyes hot and animal, as he pissed all over her crotch, inches from the nosy bitch in the next cubicle. Fucking hell, yeahhhh!

Sabrina squirmed slowly on his lap, her face a mask of rapture. She dipped her hand, cupping his cock, stemming his flow briefly. She hooked his cock inside her panties, snug up against her pussy, and his flow recommenced, soaking her sweet pussy, flooding her school knickers with hot, yellow piss.

Their neighbors finished, slam-banging their way back out as Carlos finally dried up. His cock was still hard, his crotch soaked, piss dripping from his balls. Sabrina's panties were wringing wet. Her fingers were in his mouth. He sucked them slowly. He wanted her again, wanted sex with her again, wanted this eight-year-old sex goddess again, here, now. As the mother and child left, the mother perhaps wondering about the strange girl in the next cubicle, he whispered in the girl's ear, whispered to her of all the things he wanted to do to her, all the different ways he wanted to penetrate her sweet young body. She moaned softly as she listened. "Yes," she said. "Oh, yes Mr Diaz. Yes. Yes. Oh, yes."

But not now. Maybe the nosy bitch of a mother would come back. Maybe she would fetch a teacher. Fuck.

They dressed hurriedly. Sabrina wrung her panties out in the toilet while Carlos molested her from behind, his finger right up her ass. They washed faces, tense now lest someone disturb them. Sabrina left first, but only after writing a phone number on Carlos's hand. "Uncle Pedro," she said, her eyes still blazing. "Phone my uncle Pedro. He can arrange it. Come and take me."

Phone uncle Pedro.

You better fucking believe it.