The Stories of Leslie Schmidt

My stories are about little girls and their loves (mostly). If you're looking for torture, sadomasochism, or anyone hurting little girls, you've come to the wrong place.

Story codes: Mg, Mgg, mg, Fg.

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Allison:

A fellow is watching his girlfriend’s six year old when she calls him into her room. So, who’s molesting whom?

Angel Lips:

One of the ‘Angel’ series. Jenny learns that her mouth is for more than eating lunch.

Angel's Toy:

Jenny discovers a new toy to play with.

Baby Oil:

There’s lots of fun stuff to be found on the changing table!

Bath Time:

Doesn't everyone have pictures or videos of their little ones in the bath? Part 1 of 2.

Part 2

Bed Warmer:

A robber baron’s manservant leaves his master a nice surprise in his bedchamber.

Billy's Story:

A young man and his best friend are discovered enjoying some videos by his little sister. Then they convince her to make a solo movie of her own.

Prequel to 'Doyle's Story'

Camping:

One of the ‘Angel’ series. Camping in a tent on a snowy night can really be kind of fun.

Client too Young:

One of the “Child Sex Therapist” stories. Our friend takes on a client that he really shouldn’t. Then, sometime later, he looses his professionalism when he meets her at the mall. Part 1 of 4.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Cinderella:

The Brothers Grimm never had it so good!

Cute Pussy:

A fellow discovers that his friend likes to share a lot more than a few brews.

Daddy-Daughter Nightclub:

A special place for daddy-daughter dates.

Dancer:

A little girl’s diary about her first boyfriend.

Disney Nights:

A trip to Disney World with the ‘Angel’.

Doyle's Story:

Doyle is asked to watch Billy’s little sister while Billy is at football practice. They watch some videos too.

Sequel to ‘Billy’s Story’. In order to fully enjoy this story, you should read 'Billy's Story' first.

First Kill:

Mystical creatures of the forest can be a real danger to unsuspecting woodsmen. (Not my usual lighthearted fare).

The Girl from DR:

Helping out an undocumented immigrant yields an unexpected reward.

Inside My Angel:
Angel learns how to really love her father.

Lethal Lolita:

There’s a lot more to this little girl than some guys expect—and they end up regretting it, for a very short time. Part 1 of 3.

Part 2 Part 3

Lethal Lolita Revisited:

Another encounter with Megan Massy—this time with a happy ending.

Los Angeles Thanksgiving:

Sequel to ‘Wisconsin Summer’ In order to fully enjoy this story, you should read 'Wisconsin Summer' first.

Loving Sarah:

Uncle Ted has a special relationship with his niece.

Morning Lesson:

The first of the “Child Sex Therapist” stories. A regular morning for our friend with the best job in the world. (This is an update of 'Afternoon Lesson' with some consistancy errors corrected.)

My Angel:

The first in the ‘Angel’ series.

My Brother's Child:

A fellow discovers that he and his brother have a lot in common.

My Sweetheart:

Another of the ‘Angel’ series.

Night Storms:

What could improve on a life spent bumming around the Caribbean on a sailboat? Part 1 of 3.

Part 2 Part 3

On the Interactions Between Teens and Tweens:

An, ahhh, scholarly article (?).

Onboard the Daisy:

Set in 1773 and 1774, these two letters between two young gentlemen tells the story of why one is being sent to India by his father and how his friend helps in a difficult situation. I was inspired by the first truely erotic English novel, "Fanny Hill", published in 1749 by John Cleland. The idea of writing in the 18th Century style was a challenge I couldn't pass up.
(This is my personal favorite of all my stories)

Pedophile's Dream-Prolog

Prolog to an entire series. The title says it all. Nine parts.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

Pick Pocket:

Beware of pick pockets on the Rome underground.

Princess Hands:

Our 'Angel' learns something new.

Ritual:

Primitive cultures have some different ceremonies.

Roller Coaster Ride:

A co-worker asks a buddy to watch his ten year old for a few days. Part 1 of 3.

Part 2 Part 3

Seven Year Old Nympho:

Not too hard to figure out. This was my first story. Part 1 of 2.

Part 2

Spoons:

Don't you love to cuddle like spoons? In two episodes, set years apart. Part 1 of 2

Part 2:

Sri Lanken Lover:

An American businessman working in Colombo rescues a street urchin. Part 1 of 2.

Part 2

Stories of the Child Bride One:

In the future, marriage customs may be different.

Stories of the Child Bride Two:

In the past, marriage customs were different.

Subic Bay Memories:

The Navy--It's not just a job, it's an adventure!

Summer Musings:

An 'Angel' story. Jenny has grown up quite a bit--but not too much.

Tales for Rm 102:

What you'll see with hidden cameras.

Teaching Sadie to Jerk Off:

A sheltered child needs to learn some things about herself.

The Dream:

He thought it was just a great dream, until he woke up!

The Making of Night Storms:

They decided to make 'Night Storms' into a movie. Part 1 of 7.

Personally, I think this is my hottest story.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

The Mask:

There's sometimes magic in those Marde Gras masks.

The Model:

A catalog photographer has a lot of fun when one of his clients has to stay over for the night.

The Orphanage:

Back in medieval times some monasteries and convents became quite independent.

Torri:

Mommy leaves her little girl with her cousin.

Uncle Brian:

A girl helps out with her Daddy's business plans.

While Her Mom was Out:

A couple of truck drivers share.

White Stuff:

Fun on a hunting lease. One of my earliest stories.

Wisconsin Summer:

A teenager isn't too happy with the plans to spend the summer away from the coast in the heartland--until he meets his little cousin.

Prequel to 'Los Angeles Thanksgiving'

Night Storms Part III

by Leslie Schmidt

After two more days, we left Cayman, sailing for Mexico and the Yucatan. The weather was still beautiful, and we sailed on an easy reach. The transit, four days, took on our regular watch routine. We would both be up during the day, and I would stay on watch until about 3:00 AM. Then, Lessa would take over until mid-morning. All three mornings, she insisted that we make love before she took over the watch. In the dark, she would start to pull gently on my cock as we sat together. Slowly she would stroke it until it reached full attention. At the same time, I rubbed her slit, occasionally slipping my finger up into her vagina. It turned me on so much to feel her bald pussy. Sometimes she would lean down and suck on me for a few minutes, but she would always pull back before I came. Once, she stood up, straddling my knees and pushed her girl parts into my face. I licked and sucked her wonderful snatch as she humped my face. She put her hands on my shoulders until just before she came. Then she pushed my head into her crotch and humped while she came.

After this she slid down, her pussy running along my chest. Then she impaled herself on my cock, slipping it easily into her tight little preteen snatch. She moved up and down, groaning with every stroke, until I shot my semen inside her. Only after she was entirely sated, would she let me hit my rack.

On the third day out we were sailing easy on a sunny afternoon when Lessa came up the companionway laughing. "Look what I found!"

I was embarrassed to see that she had found a vibrator that a friend of mine had left on board a while ago. I had forgotten that it was even still on board.

She sat down and said, "Now, how does this work?" With a twist of the collar at the base, a humming could be heard. She spread her legs and slouched down to provide better access to her pubes. Her full, hairless pussy was in full view. Her large outer lips were apart and the inner lips and her clit were visible. The opening between the inner lips was there and my dick started to harden, wanting to dive into her tight little love canal. This time, however, something else would be finding its way in.

Lessa started rubbing the dildo along her preteen slit. Almost immediately her little lips and clit became engorged. Lessa started breathing a little harder. She continued rubbing her clit with the white plastic tool, I could see that she was getting very excited. And so was I. My dick started to swell the first time she had run the dildo along her slit. Now I was reaching a full hard-on. Then she changed the angle of the dildo and pushed it into her vagina. As it slipped into her, she drew in her breath. My prick was at full attention, aching to be stroked. I started rubbing myself as I watched the dildo move in and out of her. Lessa was giving full attention to herself, her breathing becoming harder as beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. Her clit was bright red and fully engorged. She pulled the dildo out and just rubbed it up and down her slit, feeling the vibration through her clit, the pleasure building in her loins. She turned the dildo and rammed it deep into her cunt, fucking herself with the plastic phallus. She was breathing harder now, completely lost in her masturbation. Her nipples were sticking up, swollen little strawberries. I was stroking my dick, the pressure building in my balls, when she shuddered and groaned cumming. Two strokes later, I shot my load onto the deck, pumping four-five-six spurts of jiz. Lessa lay back on the cockpit seat, he skin glistening as rivulets of sweat ran down her sides. The dildo was still in her pussy, where she had left it. Its hum was muffled. She left the tool there; not holding it as she put one hand behind her head and let the other arm fell to the deck. The dildo was still deep in her puss.

I found the hum of the vibrator irresistible. I went across to her and started slowly moving it in and out of her pussy. As I pulled it out, her inner lips would be stretched down, not willing to give it up. As I eased it into her, her lips would follow, being pushed up into her. Lessa continued to lay, eyes closed, but her breathing gave her away. As I fucked her with the dildo, she started breathing with its probes. My dick again started to rise, despite the dull ache of lover's nuts.

I ran the vibrator in and out of her a little faster, her breaths became deeper and she started humping to meet its' advances. By now, my dick was at full attention. With my free hand, I grabbed the tube of K-Y I had started keeping in one of the storage bins and squirted some on my tool. Then I pulled the vibrator out and replaced it with my dick. Lessa gasped, I guess she wasn't expecting the switch. My dick is significantly thicker. She pulled her legs up and stared at me with a look of wonder as I fucked her. She was laid out, and I could watch my dick moving in and out of her girl-pussy, her clit rubbing back and forth as I pushed in then pulled out. I stroked faster, and her breathing became harder, again sweat was running down her sides. She arched her back and groaned again, her pussy tightening around my dick. On the next stroke, I came again; leaving my sperm deep in her belly with two or three shots. I fell back, sitting across the cockpit from her, totally exhausted. She lay also, breathing hard, eyes closed, her beautiful naked body in full view of the sky and sun. Some of my cum, mixed with her juices, ran out of her cunt and down into the crack of her ass. We arrived in Cancun the next day around noon.

We spent the afternoon on the beach, watching the other sunbathers. There was a mix of people, but only a few children. Most of the others were tourists, most of them middle-aged. Some of them were quite fat, large rolls and breasts. There were also some younger people, still having beautiful bodies. After one especially good looking woman of about 25 walked by, I could feel that Lessa was upset. The woman had medium sized breasts; her large nipples pointed out straight from firm breasts. Her bush was dark brown, as was her hair, and covered her sex so that only a hint of the lips under it could be made out. She had a flat stomach and well shaped hips and butt. Her face was also quite pretty; she could have been seen in any "men's" magazine in the world.

Lessa was quiet as she walked away, her tanned body being admired by every man on the beach. Lessa looked down at herself, and I could tell that she felt let down. I put my arms around her and held her, then I kissed her neck.

She pulled away slightly. "Do you think I'll look like her?" she asked.

"Honey, you will be a hundred times more beautiful. Right now, you're a hundred times more beautiful." I said.

Lessa was still quiet. "Don't you wish I had breasts?"

"I love you just the way you are," I replied. "I think you're the sexiest, most desirable woman I have ever been with. Your everything I ever wanted in a lover, and more. I love the way you look. I especially like it that you are so smooth and soft. Also, other women just don't give the way you do. You're the best lover I have ever had."

Lessa relaxed and lay up against my side, her head on my shoulder. After a few minutes we went back into the water and splashed around some.

When we went back up onto the beach, Lessa picked up her towel and, taking me by the hand, she lead me back into a gully in the cliffs. After we were out of sight of the beach, she told me to sit down on a ledge. Then she kneeled between my legs and started to suck my cock.

I immediately got rock hard as she took my dick in and out of her mouth, sucking it deep into the back of her throat, then pulling back so only the head was against her tongue. The roughness of her tongue against my glans was incredibly exciting. She also held my stiff shaft with both hands, stroking up and down as she took me deep into her mouth. A couple of times she pulled my cock out of her mouth and licked it along the bottom, from my balls to the head, only to slam it back down her throat.

The pressure was building in my nuts, the cum getting ready to shoot. I told her I was about to cum, but she kept sucking, giving me an incredible blowjob. As my cum pumps came on line, I fired two shots in her mouth. She pulled my dick out and stroked it fast. I fired twice again, my white jiz splattering on her face, across her cheek and forehead, a few drops landing in her hair. She had her mouth open and I could see my cum mixed with her saliva on her tongue and lips. She rammed me back into her mouth as I fired again and again. White bubbles of cum were in the corner of her mouth as she continued sucking every drop.

When I was spent, she looked up and smiled. Some of my cum was still in her mouth, as droplets clung to her face. I reached down and wiped the cum off her cheek and forehead, then I pulled her toward me and gave her a really sloppy open kiss, tasting my salty cum on her tongue. We hugged and kissed. When I reached down between her legs to start to return the favor, she pulled away, however.

"No, later," she said. Then she turned and ran back to the beach, laughing.

Three days later we were underway again, heading back to Jamaica. The winds were light in the morning and, as the sun moved toward the zenith, they died away completely. We were about four miles off shore, drifting. Under the tropical sun, a thick haze developed as the ocean water evaporated. Under the hot assault, I dozed in the cockpit. I awakened when a shadow passed over me. Lessa kneeled down in front of me and took my limp cock in her mouth. As she sucked it in and out, it quickly rose to the occasion. When I was fully erect, she stopped and pulled away.

She stood over me, her hairless pussy even with my face. I loved the look of it, the slit and thick lips parting slightly to show her clit. She put her hands on my shoulders and slowly lowered herself onto my cock. My cockhead pushed against her lips but wasn't going to slip in. Lessa pushed down on my shaft twice, but all she did was push her lips up.

"Put some jelly on it," she demanded.

With a laugh, I reached into the compartment behind me and pulled out the K-Y. I squeezed a dab on my head, right on the piss-hole. Lessa reached down (she had stepped back a bit) and with one finger, spread the lube around the head. Then she stepped forward and again lowered herself on my cock. This time the head easily parted the little-girl lips and I watched my dick slowly disappear into her ten-year-old twat. First the head, then the light colored pink behind the head, and then shaft. About half of my tool was inside her when my head hit the end; I was as far inside her as I would go. She pulled away, lifting herself and pulling my cock out until just the head remained in her love tube. Then she dropped again, ramming me into her cooch. She started bouncing up and down, repeatedly pushing me into her. She was panting with her bounces, her head thrown back, mouth open, eyes closed. My cum was building inside me as I started to hump up to meet her impaling bounces. After what seemed like several minutes, she stopped and stood up, pulling me out of her. She turned around and reached down. Now she gently guided my cock back inside her, but this time she was facing away from me. I reached around and rubbed my fingertips across her hard nipples and fingered her slit. Again, she bounced up and down on my cock, impaling herself. She began moaning with every bounce, sweat breaking out on her body. She leaned back against me; her hair was in my face. She reached up and over her shoulders, wrapping her hand around my head and pulling herself against me. When she climaxed, a loud exclamation escaped from her, "Ahh-ahh-ahh." I fired my load inside her, my head swimming.

It was after we had calmed down (but I was still inside her) that we noticed the fishing boat. It was no more than 50 yards away, and about a half dozen men lined the rail, two with binoculars. At first, Lessa froze while I suppressed a strong desire to laugh. Then she giggled and stood up, waving. She jumped up on deck and stood at the rail, laughing and waving. She was obviously having a good time showing off her body to them. From across the water came applause and whistles. As the fishing boat moved away, Lessa came back down into the cockpit. "Quite a show we gave them!" she laughed.

As Magic crossed the Caribbean, every day moving closer to Jamaica, the mood on my little ship slowly darkened. In the month that had passed, our relationship had developed into something that defies description. Lessa was my lover, my wife, and my daughter. She was also my shipmate and friend. In a short time, we had shared far more than two of such differing ages should share. We had had times where she was my little girl, times when she was my date, times that she was my companion, times when I needed to be a stern father. We had even faced times of danger together. The sea doesn't really care. And yes, Lessa had occasionally misbehaved; she had also spent a lot of time being a child. I knew that, in spite of the strange character of our relationship, she still needed to sometimes play with dolls. It is difficult to change gears when your lover crawls out of bed and wants to play with Barbie. I coped with this by remembering how I played with my older sister when I was a child. At forty, I again was allowed to be eight-what a gift.

We arrived in Kingston two days before Lessa's flight home. We spent the time doing maintenance on Magic and partying in the old city. On the night before she left, Lessa's love making was intense, even desperate. She was on top, ramming down hard on me. Just before we both climaxed, warm drops splashed on my chest. When she dropped down on me, she was crying. She sobbed until she fell asleep.

The next day, we took a cab to the airport. We didn't speak much as Lessa checked in. When the flight was called, she kissed me as any niece would kiss her uncle and walked down the jetway. Just before she turned to enter the 767, she looked back. Her face was ashen-too sad, too heart-broken. At the same time, I felt as if my guts were being wrenched out of me. I was reminded of an old song by Carly Simon.

The memory of your last look- the way you took me by surprise, And the way that you turn my head around. And the way that you turn my head around.

I spent that night in a whorehouse, madly fucking in a blind drunk. But the professional black bitches in Kingston smelled, their fake moans just made me mad. I stumbled into the tropical night, hurt, lonely, pissed off, and sick with remembering. I was stumbling toward the harbor when some jackass hit me across the shoulders with a plank.

I woke up at dawn, I had passed out on the quay wall. The hair on the back of my head was caked with dried blood, my wallet and watch were gone. Magic was waiting for me 100 yards off shore, quietly resting at anchor.