Everybody considers me a lucky man, for I happen to live on the beach. Everybody, that is, except the locals.

It is a truly beautiful stretch of rolling white sand on the central California coast. A tourist trap like any other, it is crowded by swimmers and holiday makers all summer long, so I get to look at all the scantily-clad girls I want too during that time.

The maps call it Misty Beach, as the town by it is known as Misty Hills. However, the locals call it Mystery Beach. They say that a lot of strange and unexplained phenomena occur there, and will not go near it. They don't tell the odd stories to the tourists, but only because the town needs the annual influx of cash in order to survive and they don't want to jeopardize that income. However, they never use it themselves; they always go to some other beach.

I had lived here for five years, and had never seen anything odd on that beach (well, except for an occasional hairstyle of outfit worn by a vacationer). This flabbergasted the locals; no previous tenant had lasted more than a month. Within that time I had heard all the stories, and some of them were very odd indeed. Some of them are considered to be ghost stories by some, like the one about the odd sightings of pirate ships right off shore. Or the "spooky" sighting of a young cowboy, complete with horse and authentic (if you believe the reports) old west clothing and equipment, who had apparently been part of the California gold rush.

I didn't believe any of it. Even if some of it had been true, I figured that none of it was dangerous. Odd yes, but nothing more, and therefore nothing to be worried about. Never did I suspect that the locals may have a right to be wary.

All I knew was that this reputation explains how I got such a beautiful house in such a lovely location for so little. I should never have been able to afford such a house anywhere, let alone in such a prime location.

The locals all thought I was crazy for wanting to live there, but I didn't care. I still don't in fact.

As I said; in five years on that beach, I had never seen anything strange. That all changed the autumn, in fact the very day, I turned thirty-eight.

It was an unseasonably cool, overcast day in early fall. Because of this slightly odd weather, the beach had been empty all day. The only person who had been on it was me; I liked to walk along "my" beach at least once a day, even if there was no eye candy.

It was getting late, when suddenly I heard a knock on my front door. This was odd because my house faces the ocean; whenever I have visitors (which isn't often), they always come to the kitchen door in the back of the house. Only once in those five years had anyone come to the front, and then it was only because a vacationer's Frisbee had landed on my upstairs balcony.

There were no vacationers that day, I was sure of that, so why was someone knocking on my front door? The odd stories never even entered my mind however.

When I opened the door, I was a bit surprised to find a little girl standing there. She looked to be about eight, nine on the outside, and was wearing nothing but a blue two-piece bathing suit. Well, that, and a lot of sand. She had black hair cut as short as most boys (though in a defiantly feminine stile) and luminous green eyes the precise color of emeralds. With a cute hart-shaped face and a well-toned and tanned healthy body, she was quite attractive for such a little girl.

No, I am not usually attracted to little girls. My tastes normally run toward women my own age or just a few years younger. Though I will sometimes find someone younger that strikes my fancy, I had never been attracted to one this young until that moment. Maybe it was the skimpy outfit, or the disheveled look, or a combination of both. Maybe it was those wonderful eyes, but whatever the cause I found her to be quite desirable.

None of which explained what she was doing there, or how she gotten there. Misty Hills is a small town, small enough for me to know everyone in the town on sight. This girl didn't live here, that I was sure of.

"Hello?" I asked. "May I help you?"

She looked up at me, and that's when I realized that she was close to tears. "Please sir," she said in a quavering voice, "I can't find my parents. Could you help me?"

"Well, where did you see them last?" I asked, since I figured they couldn't be far.

"Right over there, on the beach." She pointed to a spot just a few yards away. There was a long, shallow hole dug at that spot, with sand piled on either side. Something about the sand and hole looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. "They're not there now," she added unnecessarily.

"I'm sure that they couldn't have gone far," I replied. "Do they have a cell phone? Could you call them?"

She gave me a slightly puzzled look, but only said "Daddy has a car phone, I know the number."

A car phone? I hadn't heard of one of those in years. "Well come on in, we'll try to call him."

She entered, leaving a trail of sand on the plastic runner I had placed for just that purpose; to keep sand out of the carpet. Even so, I was glad (and a bit surprised) at the care she took to keep it off the rug. I took her to the kitchen (because the sand wouldn't bother the tile) and handed her my cordless phone. She dialed the number as she sat down at my kitchen table.

After a moment, I clearly heard a recorded voice say "This number has been disconnected..."

"But it was working earlier..." she whined.

"Did you get the number wrong?"

"I don't think so, but I'll try again." We got the same message as last time.

"Is there someone at your house? Anyone else you could call?"

"I don't know Grandma's number, and I don't think anyone's home. I'll try though."

This time the phone rang. On the third ring someone picked up and said "Calico Pet Shop, how may I help you?"

"S-sorry," she stammered, "I must have dialed the number wrong." She hung up and tried again, only to get the Calico Pet Shop again.

Taking the phone from the suddenly very worried little girl, I told the woman on the other end what the problem was and if she knew where the girl's parents might be. She had never heard of them, and said that her shop had had the number ever since it first opened, six years before. I thanked her for her time, and hung up.

The girl was now crying. As I started to comfort her, I noticed something: "I just realized that I don't know your name," I told her. "I'm Brian."

"C-Callista," she sobbed.

"Don't cry Callista, we'll find your family." I hoped so anyway, for her sake. "How 'bout you tell me how you lost them, it may give me an idea of how to find them."

She choked down a sob and valiantly tried to pull herself together. "Well, we came to the beach today, only we forgot our vests so mom wouldn't let Bobby and me get in the water. So we were playing in the sand..."

"Wait, who's Bobby?" I interrupted.

"My little brother, he's five. So anyway, we were playing and he wanted to burry me, so I let him. I must have fallen asleep, 'cause when I woke I was up to my neck in sand, and they were gone." That's why the configuration of hole and sand looked familiar; it was the sign of someone standing up after being "buried" on the beach. It also explained why she was covered in sand.

"Just like that? They just left you?"

"I guess..."

I decided to change tracks. "Why did you come to the beach today, of all days?"

"Well, it was so bright and beautiful out, I just wanted to go swimming, and since it's my birthday I got to choose what we did. It was a gorgeous day, not like when I woke up. The beach was so crowded, we almost couldn't find a place to sit."

Something was strange here; it had been overcast all day, and I hadn't heard or seen anyone out there at all. Not even one person, let alone a beach full of tourists.

"Callista, what day is today? Besides your birthday that is." Strange coincidence that, as it was my birthday too.

"Saturday, of course," she answered, in a tone that said she was wondering about my mental state.

It was actually Friday. Somehow, she had been laying on the beach for almost a week, at least. And I hadn't seen her. Yah, right. Somehow I didn't quite believe that.

However, she seemed so sincere that I was sure she wasn't lying. I didn't know what to think, or do.

After a moment I decided that her parents had probably filed a missing person report on her, so I called the police.

"We haven't had a missing person report in almost twenty years," Sergeant Josef Johnson informed me. "What was the girl's name? Callista? Well let's see... No missing person report at all, in fact all that name brings up on my screen is an accidental death report from thirty years ago. Thirty years to the day, in fact."

Despite myself, a shiver ran up my back. "Accidental death?" I asked. I had walked into the living room, leaving Callista in the kitchen so as not to worry her more.

"Yes," Johnson replied. "Apparently a eight year old girl by the name of Callista McPherson went out to far without a life vest and drowned. They never found her body, but like I said, that was thirty years ago: the girl would be thirty-eight now."

My age, and this girl was at most nine. "Well, thank you anyway Sergeant. What should I do with her?"

"Well, we don't have any facilities here in town, so she would have to stay with somebody. Since she already knows you, and you have that big house all to yourself, could she stay with you for now?"

My house isn't all that big, only three bedrooms, but that was certainly enough for one extra person. "Okay, I'll keep her here tonight. Hopefully we can find her parents soon though."

"Great, and I'll certainly try to find them. I have a little girl myself, and I know how I'd feel if she was missing."

"Yah, I know what you mean." And I did, even though I had no children. "Goodnight Jo." He said goodnight as well, and we both hung up.

"Well Callista," I said, returning to the kitchen. "It looks like you're spending the night here, I'll put you in my guest room."

"Okay, but what will I sleep in?" She looked down at her sand-covered self, indicating her swimsuit.

Unbidden into my mind came the thought "The nude?" I was a bit surprised to realize that the thought was actually turning me on.

All I said though was "I'm sure we can find something. One of my old T-shirts maybe? Those would probably fit you like a dress. How about I get the biggest one I have while you wash that sand off?" The tough of her in nothing but one of my old T-shirts did nothing to calm my lust, quit the opposite in fact.

"Washing the sand off sounds good, where's the bathroom?"

So I led her to the downstairs bathroom, one of only two the house has. It is on the small side, just big enough for a sink, a toilet, and a bathtub. The tub doesn't have a curtain, it has a pair of sliding glass doors instead. There is just enough room left over for one person to stand.

After I showed her where everything was and was about to leave, she called out "Please don't go, I don't want to be alone."

This could be a problem. "There is no curtain you know, and the doors are clear glass. I'd be able to see everything." I was excited about the prospect, which is why I didn't want to stay. Or at least, why I knew I shouldn't.

"I don't mind. Please stay." So against my better judgment, I sat on the closed toilet lid and stayed.

Belatedly I realized that all she had to do was keep her bathing suit on and I wouldn't see anything. The though both comforted and disappointed me; comforted me because there would be no moral or legal issues that way, and disappointed me because... well, I guess that's obvious.

I was therefore more than a bit surprised when she took her suit off, facing me boldly.

First to come off was her top. I had never seen a girl her age topless before, and was a bit surprised to realize that she actually had small mounds that might just barely qualify as breasts. It was all I could do to keep from reaching out and playing with them. Seeing as the bathroom was so small, she was easily within my reach after all. Especially since she had left the shower door wide open.

Then she slid her bottoms off. The sight of her cute little pussy suddenly made my pants uncomfortably tight. It was even harder to keep from touching it then it had been for her tits, but gathering all of my willpower I still managed not to.

Now that she was naked, she turned to the side (giving me a good view of her well-shaped butt) and turned the water on without even closing the shower door. Once she had it adjusted to her liking she turned under it, rinsing all the sand off. I thought that that would be the end of it, but she picked up my shampoo. Apparently, she meant to make it a full shower.

But then she turned to me and holding out the shampoo, asked me "Could you do my hair for me?"

"You can't do it yourself?" I replied.

"Well, yes... but I would rather have you do it. My mother always washes my hair when I'm upset; it makes me feel better."

Well, if that was all there was to it... it wasn't as if my hands would get too close to anything I shouldn't touch after all. So I took the shampoo from her hand, squirted a liberal amount into mine, and started working it into her hair.

As I was reaching for her head, I suddenly thought "What if this is the McPherson girl? Wouldn't that make her a ghost? Will my hand pass right through her?" But when my hand reached her head, I found it to be quite solid. And warm too; ghosts were supposed to be cold, weren't they?

After we lathered and rinsed her hair twice, she startled me with "Could you wash me?"

"What!? I-I don't think I should... it wouldn't be right." I really wanted to though.

"Please? I know some people would think it's wrong, but since I'm asking you to, wouldn't that make it okay? It's not like you'd be touching me against my will after all, is it?"

"It's still illegal even if it isn't immoral, and I'm not so sure it isn't."

"So? I won't tell if you don't." When I didn't answer, she added "Please?" in such a voice that made my resistance crumble. Not that the voice had been overtly sexual in nature; it was a combination of pleading for comfort mixed with just enough wistfulness and longing to get my hopes up.

Against my better judgment (again), I picked up the body wash I keep there with the shampoo and proceeded to wash her beautiful little body. I started with her neck and the sides of her head, then washed her shoulders. I was still a bit nervous about touching her, so next I washed her upper back. Her skin was so smooth and soft...

At that point, she caught my right wrist and pulled my hand around to her chest, placing it right on her right breast (she had her back to me after all). It was soft and smooth, all except her little nipple which I was surprised to find was hard. Kind of like a certain part of me...

So I reached around with the other hand, grabbed her left breast, and played with her hard little nipples for a bit. She loved it, but I soon decided that I wanted to touch more than just those wonderful little nibs. I washed her stomach, but decided to leave her pussy for last. I moved back to her shoulders and washed her arms, then her sides (brushing her nipples again), and finally around to her lower back. Then I caressed down her pert little bottom.

"I think there's still sand in my butt crack," she informed me. "Could you get it out?"

So I gently spread her firm little nether-cheeks and worked my hand between them. There was indeed sand in there, but I made short work of it. I then played with her little anus a bit, finally boldly working the tip of my finger into it.

"That feels weird," she said, but it wasn't a complaint.

"Do you want me to stick it in more?" I couldn't believe that she was letting me do this.

"Sure."

"Then you'll need to bend over a bit."

She bent over, putting her hands just bellow her knees. Working it slowly and gently, I got my finger in to just bellow the second knuckle. That was as far as it would go; my other fingers were pressed into her butt cheek as it was. Then I wiggled it about.

"I like that," she said breathlessly.

I played my finger around inside her little ass for a while, pumping it in and out a few times, but I soon got bored with just her ass. So I withdrew it and continued to wash her by doing her shapely legs. She stood up straight as soon as she realized I was done with her ass. I thought that she seemed a bit disappointed, but she didn't say a thing so it could just have been my imagination.

Finally, I had washed everything but her little pussy. As I moved to do that however, I started to doubt that she would let me. Even after everything I had done, I wasn't sure she would let me touch her in her most private place. So I just washed around it a bit.

Then she surprised me by saying "My vagina needs to be washed too you know; I think there may be some sand in it still."

So I started washing her sweet little slit. She loved it, but when I started to slide my finger into her she stopped me.

"I'm not quite ready for that yet, but if you're nice enough I may let you do it later."

"Nice, how?" I wanted to know.

"Let me rinse myself off and I'll show you." She turned back toward the shower-head and proceeded to rinse herself. The way she moved then, sliding her little hands across her naked little body... I'm not sure if she meant for it to be erotic or not, but it sure had that effect on me.

When she was done (which was much too soon for me), she turned the water off, grabbed my towel off the rod it was hanging from, and started drying herself off.

"You do know that towel's dirty don't you?" I asked her.

"You used it last time you took a shower right?" I nodded. "Well, that's good enough for me." This last was said in such a way that I got the impression that she liked the idea of using something that had touched my naked body. Of course, that could just have been my hormones talking.

When she was as dry as she could get she hung the towel back on the rod, and then led me out of the bathroom. We returned through the house to the living room, where she lay down on the couch. Then, draping one leg over the back and letting the other foot drop to the floor, she spread her little legs as far as she could. Then she reached down and started lightly rubbing her little clit.

"If you kiss me here," she told me, "I may let you put your finger in me. Of course, if you lick it you may just get to put something more than just your finger in there."

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, let alone hearing. A naked little girl masturbating on my couch, who seemed to be offering to let my fuck her if I licked her pussy first. It was truly amazing, and even though I had never been attracted to a girl her age before, it felt like a dream come true.

Unfortunately, I have never enjoyed licking pussy. Oh, I had been known to do it from time to time, but only to keep my partner happy. That doesn't mean I liked it; I was, at best, indifferent to the taste, and most of the time wasn't best.

However, by this time I wanted to fuck her so bad that I would have licked her shit right out of her ass if that was what she wanted. Compared to that, licking any pussy was nothing.

So I knelt down beside the couch, lowered my face between her legs, and started kissing and licking for all my worth.

Every girlfriend I had ever had told me that I was good at licking pussy, but I had never quite believed them. I mean, how could someone be good at something they don't like? This time however, her reaction spoke better than words, and I knew I was doing it good.

Of course, it helped that I was actually enjoying it for a change. No pussy had ever tasted so good. I figured that it tasted that good because she was so young; I just couldn't figure out if it was my perception making her taste so good, or if that was just the way little girls tasted. I was tempted to find out, but knew that I probably never would.

Like I said, I'd licked a pussy or two and have been told I'm good at it. All I do however is play with the clit, switch to teasing the hole, then switch back. That's what I did this time too, but after a while I decided to do something I had never tried before: to attempt to actually get my tongue inside her. It didn't work as she was so small, but we both had fun trying.

When she finally came, I was still marveling about the taste and eagerly lapped up the small spurt of cum she released. She indicated that I should stop and just lay there panting for a while.

After she caught her breath, she sat up and said "That was very nice, but if you're nice one more time I'll be nice to you."

"What do you want me to do?" It was then that I realized I was in danger of becoming her sex slave, not that I really cared.

"Well, I'm naked and it would be nice if you got naked too."

That seemed fair, but I wasn't sure I should. I might get in trouble...

I almost slapped myself: it was far too late to start worrying about that! I would probably be looking at a minimum of five years in prison and a life-long label as a sex offender just for what I had already done! Letting her see me naked wasn't going to add much, if anything, to that. That was assuming I got caught of course...

So I took my clothes off. The expression on her face as I did so would have been enough to get me hard all by itself. Since I was already so hard it was almost painful, I nearly exploded right there.

When I was naked, she beckoned me closer and said "Now it's time for me to be nice to you." And with that, she proceeded to suck my cock.

One of my biggest problems with my old girlfriends had always been that although they expected me to lick them, they almost never gave me blow jobs in return. That hadn't been fair, but they didn't seem to care.

Having said that, I obviously didn't have much experience with blow jobs. Callista on the other hand, just as obviously did. She did things to me that I had never even dreamt of. Wonderful things that made my knees weak until it was all I could do to stand there. I had no idea how she learned to do that without loosing her virginity, and I was virtually curtain that she still was a virgin.

She stopped far too soon however, but only because she was suddenly drenched. With my cum. The reason it was to soon for me was because I simply would have liked to hold out longer. My fault, not hers.

I sank to my knees and in thanks kissed her right on the lips. She was surprised because she apparently hadn't expected me to kiss her. I was surprised because of how passionately she kissed me back after a moment. We where both surprised, because both of our faces were wet with each other's cum; it was surprising that we were willing to taste our own.

Her face was wetter than mine: it had apparently been the biggest load I had ever sprayed, so big that she couldn't swallow it in time. She had tried, but she chocked a little; I know this because she had cum running out of her nose. After she choked, the remainder had sprayed out in all directions drenching us both. She even had some in her hair.

"It looks like you need another shower," I told her, taking charge for a moment. "I could use one too, so how about we take one together?"

"That sounds fun," she replied after a moment, "but wouldn't it be kinda hard for us both to fit? How 'bout a bath instead?"

She was right, it would be hard for both of us to fit in either shower in the house. Not that it mattered, because her suggestion of a bath sounded even better to me anyway. So I had her stand with me and lead her to the upstairs bathroom.

My house is very old, so old that it originally hadn't had electricity let alone plumbing and bathrooms. It had been one of the first houses in the town; was, in fact, the first house ever built on that beach (which isn't saying much, as it is also the only house ever built on the beach, but oh well). When electrical service finally came to the town, the house had been upgraded with the old (practically ancient) two wire system complete with turn-knobs for the switches. This wiring job had been tacked onto the walls rather than placed inside them, a fact that had apparently saved the building from burning down several times.

When some previous owner had the plumbing and bathrooms installed, they hadn't had much room in which to place them. So they cut off part of the living room (which had originally taken up two thirds of the ground floor, with the rest being kitchen) to make room for it and a laundry room. Both rooms ended up pretty small; you may remember my description of the bathroom.

The upstairs bathroom wasn't installed at that time however; along with fully modern wiring, it was a much more recent improvement. In order to squeeze it in though, they had regrettably been forced to remove the smallest bedroom. Luckily, although it had been a pretty small bedroom, it is a good sized bathroom complete with not just a real shower stall, but a large tub as well.

I believe that the tub had been installed to entice someone to buy the place, it is that nice. Easily big enough for two adults, it's quite deep and even has water jets all around the edge. It is rather like a small hot tub in fact.

She loved it on sight. "Oh, this is going to be fun!"

As I started filling the tub with warm water, she started digging around in the cabinets and drawers. "Don't you have any bubble bath?" she asked after a while.

Normally I wouldn't, what single man would after all? Unless he was gay, which I most certainly am not. But my last girlfriend had loved bubble bathes, and had left some behind. "Check in the closet of the closest bedroom, I think there's some in a bag on the floor."

Callista just smiled, nodded, and walked out the door. I hadn't noticed how enticing she was when she walked before that...

It wasn't long before she was back with the bottle, at which time she poured a liberal amount into the filling tub. As it started to foam, I reflected that I hadn't had a bubble bath since I had been six. I hadn't even shared one with my last girlfriend, but only because she hadn't wanted to. The thought of sharing one with her hadn't been at all bad, in fact it had sounded interesting. The thought of sharing one with an underage girl was... strange, but somehow even more interesting.

When the tub was full, we climbed in and started washing each other. Of course, it soon devolved into playing. Then, when she realized that I was fully erect again, she pushed me as flat on my back as she could without drowning me and climbed on top of me. I wasn't sure what she had in mind, and was therefore a bit surprised when she started pressing her little pussy down onto my cock.

I soon knew for a fact that she had been a virgin; I felt her hymen rip almost immediately. She let out a gasp of pain; she obviously hadn't expected it to hurt.

"We don't have to continue if you don't want to," I told her. I was hoping that she wouldn't stop, but thought that I should give her the out if she wanted it.

"No, that's okay," she replied to my delight. "I just didn't expect it to hurt; it never hurts the women in those movies..." I wondered when and how she has seen such a movie, but there were more pressing matters in my head right then. In both of them actually.

She continued to impale herself on me, and soon had me all the way in. Despite how small and tight she was, it didn't take nearly as long as I had expected. I figure the soapy water probably acted as a lubricant.

She was so tight that it almost hurt me, and I had no idea how she could stand the pain she was obviously in. As soon as I hit bottom though, she just stayed still and rested until the pain left her pretty little face.

Then she started humping slowly. It was soon apparent that despite her expertise with giving blow-jobs, she barely had a clue about how to have real sex. This was fine as well; at least I wouldn't have to train her out of any bad habits. She seemed quite willing to learn too.

I don't know how long we were like that, all I know is that we were far from pruney when we started fucking and quite pruney when we were finished. She also didn't seem to be feeling any pain at all by then.

In fact, it wasn't long before she was going wild with pure pleasure. So I shoved my finger back into her little ass. She loved it so much that by the time she came, I had two fingers in that tight little hole.

I had been holding back my own orgasm by a sheer act of will for at least ten minutes, when the feeling of that tight little cunt spasming in one of her own pushed me over the edge. If anything, I shot even more than I had the last time, so much that I could actually feel it squirting out of her little pussy around my dick. It was the most incredible thing I had ever felt.

After that, we just relaxed there with my softening cock still buried inside her. It wasn't until I found myself starting to fall asleep that I decided it was time to get out. Sleeping in a full bathtub is not a safe thing to do after all, especially for a child.

"Callista honey," I said as I full woke the drowsing girl, "I think we should get out of this tub."

"Hmmm? Well, okay," she replied. "I'm a bit hungry anyway, what's for dinner?"

The End (for now)

---

I had originally decided to make this one longer, but as I am now posting these stories of mine here I have decided to make it a series instead. I already know what will happen in the next episode, but after that I'll hopefully be using reader input to develop the story. So please give me your ideas!