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'

Sri Lanken Lover Part I

by Leslie Schmidt

Missy came to live with me because she had no where else to go. The streets of third world cities are rough. They are filled with urchins, kids living out of trashcans and sleeping under plastic sheeting in alleys and vacant lots. Most of the younger ones are protected by older kids. When they reach 11 or 12, they get jobs in the sweatshops, earning $2 a day making $120 sneakers for spoiled American brats.

I noticed Missy because she was crying, trying to wake another kid up. The street gangs had just had a shoot out; the police had not yet arrived to pick up the bodies. The next day, she was sitting in an alley. The following day I felt a tug on my shirt and found her behind me, one dirty palm up. Her eyes were large and wet, she looked very hungry.

I know better than to give one of these street kids money, I just shook my head and said, "No." She turned away; I was probably the hundredth person to reject her that morning. Two hours later, as I walked back to my flat, I looked around. She was in her alley, sitting with her back against a concrete wall, her forehead on her arms which were folded across her knees. Occasional shaking told me that she was sobbing. I walked back down the way I had come about 50 meters to a street vendor and bought some curry chicken and rice wrapped in naan bread, then I went back to her alley. I handed her the food and a plastic bottle of water. I then stood over her while she ate; I wasn't going to let someone bigger take her food away. She wolfed down the meal in about 30 seconds, took a long drag on the water bottle, and then looked up at me with a smile of thanks.

"Be here in the morning, I'll have something for you. But, if you tell anyone there will be no more, I can't feed every kid on these streets," I said in Sridi, the native language of Sri Lanka. She nodded and I turned and left.

In the morning I found her in the same place, sleeping on a piece of cardboard. I carefully looked her over. She was filthy. Streaks of dirt ran down her legs and arms. Her hair, longer than shoulder length, was matted and I saw a louse crawling through it. She smelled of urine and rot. Her clothes, just a blue jumper, had dirt ground into them. The hem was frayed and one of the armholes was torn down the side. She looked to be about five or six. She was thin but not yet obviously malnourished. I guessed it was her brother's body I had seen her crying over a few days earlier.

I nudged her with my toe and she started awake, scrambling away from me. When she recognized me, she stopped. I handed her a plantain and a hunk of bread. Then I gave her a leter bottle of water. "Make that last until evening, don't drink water from the streets, it will make you sick."

"Thank you," she whispered, more to the food than to me. Again, I waited until she was done eating. "I'll be back in the afternoon."

At work that day, I made what I thought was probably a really stupid decision. On my way back to my flat, I stopped at a shop and bought a dress, some underwear, and sandals which I guessed would fit her. Then I stopped at the druggist and purchased de-lousing shampoo.

When I entered the street she came out of the alley, walking quickly up to me smiling.

I stopped and squatted down in front of her, looking almost directly into her face. "What is your name, child?" I asked.

"Mewi."

"Don't you have anyone looking after you?"

"My brother-the Tamal shot him." A tear made its' way down her dirty cheek, leaving a streak in its wake. She wiped her nose with her palm, smearing mucus and her tears across her cheek bone.

"Come with me child. I'll get you cleaned up, then we'll see what's to become of you."

She walked with me the two blocks to my building. Normally I would be making the trip by taxi, it's much safer that way, but construction of the water pipes blocked access to the street for vehicles.

The doorman looked disgusted when he saw the girl, I challenged him with a direct stare which said, "What the FUCK are you looking at." He didn't say a word as I led the filthy creature through the lobby to the elevators. It was a mistake to take the lift, she smelled so bad. When the doors opened at my floor she stayed in the lift, a wild look in her eyes. I hadn't realized that she might have never been in an elevator before. "Come on Mewi, it's OK." She tentatively stepped out of the elevator and followed me down the hall.

My flat was also amazing to her, but I didn't give her time to look around. I led her through the living room and straight into the bath. I closed the door and turned on the water, quickly adjusting the temperature. Then I turned to her and, matter of factly, pulled her shift off over her head. Next I pulled down her underwear and in one motion picked her up and stood her in the tub. I took the shower nozzle which was on the end of a hose and began to wet her down. The water that reached the drain was brown. I started to scrub her with a wash cloth, removing what must have been five years of grime. There wasn't a single part of her body which wasn't filthy. I had to open the window. I tried to brush out her hair, but it was just too matted. She just stood with a dazed look on her face as I took scissors to her locks. They went into the same plastic bag which held her clothes. I put the de-lousing shampoo in her, now short, hair and told her to stay standing in the tub while I took the bag containing her cloths and hair and dropped it in the garbage shoot in the hall. I came back into the bathroom and rinsed her off. Then I put the stopper in the tub and began to fill it. I told her to sit down as the warm water rose around her. Now she looked like a child, a pretty little girl in her bath. I got an idea and poured some shampoo (real shampoo) into the stream of water. Bubbles burst forth and covered the tub. I had to wipe my own tears when she burst forth with a stream of little girl giggles. At that moment, I fell. I would find some way to adopt her as mine. She would be the family that I had lost when the terrorist bomb blew the wing off the 737 my wife, daughter, and son had been in. God knows how I would square it with the Sri Lanken officials, or the assholes with the INS. Lawyers are expensive anywhere, even in Colombo. In Sri Lanka, bribes can be worse.

When I showed her the clothes I had bought, she almost danced around the room. My guess at her size turned out to be correct, I have never seen a happier child. We spent the evening watching television. I made up the sofa for her at about 9PM and tucked her in. That night was the first time she had ever brushed her teeth, I had to teach her how. The scene ran old tapes of teaching my son the same thing when he was three, just a few months before he died. I hit my sack a little later. In the morning, I was surprised to find her sleeping on the floor at the foot of my bed.

That day, I took her to see a doctor. He checked her over and, after listening to her chest, pushing on her stomach, checking her ears and eyes, and making all the appropriate noises, said that she appeared healthy, if a little thin. She was surprisingly stoic when a nurse drew three vials of blood and then gave her some vaccinations. I was told to call in three days for test result. In 1994, AIDS had not made much of an appearance in Sri Lanka but malaria and other parasitic diseases were a big concern.

After that we went to a park where there was a playground. Homeless kids would be chased out, so I think that that was the first time Mewi had been on a swing or monkey bars. Later a bought her some more clothes. I also introduced her, for the first time, to that completely American institution, the Happy Meal.

We arrived back at my flat around four. I made a couple of phone calls to friends in the hope of finding a sitter. I had no luck though and ended asking a woman who lived in my building to watch Mewi. I had noticed that there were always kids in and out of her flat but I didn't know that she was actually providing daycare for a number of youngsters in the building. As the years went on, Ranada would become a surrogate mother to Mewi. Mewi could, of course, have been let loose in the streets, but the urchins tend to feed on each other. In fact, when Mewi was ten, I found that I needed to move to get her out of the street environment.

That evening, when I put Mewi in the bathtub, I took my first really close look at her. Until then, I hadn't realized how utterly beautiful she was. It is hard to describe how beautiful she was (she's even more of a stunningly beautiful woman now). First, she is black- very black. Americans are used to blacks of African ancestry, most of who have at least some European blood in them. The people of the Asian Subcontinent, and especially Sri Lanka, are extremely dark. However, they have straight or wavy hair and European features. Hers is wavy, but at that time, not a single strand was more than 5 cm long. Mewi is even dark for a Sri Lanken. Her skin is almost the color of coal. She is so dark that her eyebrows almost disappear on her forehead, much like a very light blondes' will disappear. Her eyes are also so dark that you have to look hard for the pupils. But, they are so large! Wonderfully expressive and clear globes, the whites standing out in stark contrast to her face. When she smiles (which is often), her teeth are also super white and even. Her nose is small, her forehead high.

Her neck was thin and long and her shoulders well formed and square. At that time, she had a completely flat chest; the nipples were small bumps. Because her skin is so dark, they were the same color as the rest of her. Her ribs were definitely visible, but she was not starving. At five, she had no hips and from between thin, straight legs, the crease of her sex came up her front. Her lips were not prominent, but her slit was actually a little long. Her legs were straight and thin, but again not too skinny. Her knees were not too prominent.

She stood in the tub, the water around her ankles. I started by shampooing her hair. The soap made white streaks down her neck and shoulders, across her torso and down her legs. After I had rinsed her hair I soaped up my hands and started washing her body. Her skin was incredibly smooth as I ran my hands over her shoulders and down her back. Her butt was firm and her thighs felt strong in my hands. She tightened her butt and giggled when I pushed my hand against the crack of her ass.

I turned her around and started to wash her front. When I ran my soapy hands over her chest, I was surprised that her nipples became hard. Without really thinking, I wrapped my fingers around her sides while my thumbs rubbed her nipples. I looked at her face. She was looking back, but I could not read her expression. She didn't seem to be ticklish when I soaped up her stomach. I washed her thighs, using one of my hands on each leg. I moved down her calves, then back up her legs and thighs. I ran my thumbs between her thighs and moved them up toward her slit. I pushed my right thumb against her slit, moving it back and forth. Her lips parted and my thumb brushed over her clit and inner lips. These were dark red, almost burgundy. I looked up at her face as I shifted my hand, running the side of my pointer finger back and forth in her slit. Mewi looked at me with wide eyes. Her lips were slightly parted. She bent her knees slightly; making her puss more open to my fingers and took a ragged breath.

I pushed a little harder, rubbing a little faster. Mewi put her hands on my shoulders and actually squatted down some, giving me full access to her sex. She drew in a ragged breath. I stopped rubbing her, this had not been my intention, and rinsed her off. Then I dried her.

I made up her bed again, in the living room, and then showered myself. I got into bed at about 10. It was very close, there was no wind and the temperature was well into the 30's. Through the open window the city made its low noises. Unlike western cities, Colombo has very little traffic noise at night, but there is a lot of noise from people in the streets calling to each other, some drunken singing and some occasional music. Just as I was drifting off, the covers were disturbed as Mewi lay down next to me. I put my arm around her and she put her head on my shoulder, cuddling up to me. We slept that whole night, the first of thousands, comfortably intertwined. In the morning we were on our sides, her back was to me and I was wrapped around her. Her head was on my arm as a pillow. I was amused that she had slobbered all over it.

That day I went to the legal department of the company. I am the system's administrator for an American Import/Export firm, which has about 300 employees in Colombo. One of our lawyers is an aquatence, so I explained to him my situation and asked if he knew any Sri Lanken attorneys who might be able to arrange for Mewi to be adopted.

He provided me with a name and phone number off his computer and wished me luck. As I was leaving he said, "You know, Bill, there probably will be all sorts of official obstacles to this. Don't be surprised if some government officials require some unusual fees."

"If your asking if I know how the Sri Lanken government works, I understand," I responded.

That afternoon I went to see the attorney.

He listened with interest, making all the proper noises as I explained my desires. I must admit that I was a little taken aback when he immediately suggested a course of action which was not what one would suppose.

"So, you don't know who the child's parents are and neither, it appears, does she?" he asked.

"It seems that way, she appears to have been on the street all her life. She told me that her brother took care of her, that they lived in an alleyway."

"And you have been in Sri Lanka for seven years?"

"Yes," I answered.

"And you think the girl is five?"

"That's my guess, and the doctor agreed."

"Does she know her birthday?" he asked.

"She doesn't seem to."

"Well," he started, spreading his fingers on the polished surface of his desk. "The obvious thing to do is to have a birth certificate issued with you listed as the father. We'll make up the mother's name; say some girl working down on Knight's Cross (a notorious red-light district). Then there will be no issue about adoptions and she will even be a US citizen."

He paused for a moment. "The usual filing fee for this sort of thing is $2000 American, in addition to my retainer of the same amount. I will file all the necessary paperwork with the government. What birthday would you like her to have?"

I really couldn't think of any. It being March 17, I chose January. "How about January 17? January 17, 1988. Will that do?"

"Very good, Sir. I will have the certificate issued as of February 1, 1988. I have a friend who will insure that the proper files are corrected after the omission is found. You will have to apply for a copy of the certificate now. Come tomorrow and my secretary will have the application. He will also take your payment." He offered me his limp sweaty hand. We shook. On the way back to my office, the monsoon struck.

The rain came down in sheets for the entire afternoon. By the time I entered the street of my building, there was yellow-brown mud a foot deep. I was soaked by the time I entered the lobby and went to Renada's flat for Mewi. When we got to my flat, I went immediately to the bathroom and stripped off my cloths for a shower.

I was in the stream of warm water when the door opened, then closed. Mewi silently stepped into the shower. She looked up at me and smiled, then hugged me. She was so short that her face was at the same level as my crotch, she placed her cheek against my hip. First she was facing my cock, then she turned her head the other way. Nature caused my reaction and my dick began to swell. When she pulled away, she noticed it and looked up at me with a questioning look.

I don't know why I did, but I asked her to take it in her hands and gently stroke it. Her eyes got huge when, after three strokes, my cock was fully erect, sticking out its full 9 inches, proud and thick.

"That feels really good, keep doing that," I said. Mewi continued her stroking, looking my dick strait in the "eye." Then, for some reason, she leaned forward and took the head in her mouth. I was in heaven! She sucked the head for a couple of minutes as the cum built up in my nuts. Before I came, I lifted her face off my cock. "I don't want to cum in your mouth child, your not ready for that," I said in English.

Mewi stopped stroking so I took her hands and started them moving again. She got the idea and started stroking me faster. I leaned back against the wall as my jiz boiled and my knees got weak. I know that she wasn't expecting the ensuing explosion because she stopped when my first shot of sperm splattered across her shoulder. I grabbed her hands and moved them up and down my cock as more semen shot onto her face, neck, and hair. My white cum stood out against her black skin, beading up as it does into sticky little balls when it gets wet in warm water.

My five-year-old "daughter" looked both shocked and amused. I picked her up and hugged her against my chest. She wrapped her arms around my neck.

"God, that was wonderful honey," I said. "Do you know what that was?"

"No o o o," she said.

"You just made me 'cum.'" I didn't know the Sidari word, so I used the English. "It feels really good when you do that. You made me really happy, dear."

Mewi just looked at me, not knowing what to say.

"Let's fill the tub and both sit in it. Then I'll do the same to you."

I turned the diverter valve and the water started splashing at our feet. Mewi reached down and put the stopper in the drain as I sat down. When she turned around, my face was even with her slit. I reached out with both my hands and took hold of each of her thighs. Then I pulled her toward me. I leaned forward and ran my tongue along her dark slit. Mewi giggled, but she didn't pull away.

I found her clit with my tongue, moving the tip around it. Mewi pushed her hips forward into my face and put her hands on my shoulders. Her breathing began to be deep as I continued licking her black cunt lips with the burgundy clit now pushing out between them. I ran my hands up the back of her thighs to her shapely little ass, each cheek fitting neatly in the palm of my hands, pushed her gently into my face. She bent her knees slightly, giving my tongue more access to her five-year-old snatch. As I ran my tongue back and forth in her slit, her young juices began to flow, giving her a light musky, womanly taste. I slipped the fingers of my right hand between her legs from behind and pushed my finger up against her cunt. Once or twice, my tongue brushed over my fingertip, now well flavored with her pussy scent.

By now, her breathing was very labored, her head thrown back, mouth open, eyes closed. As her juices flowed, she humped into my face, making small "ah" sounds with every hump. After just half a minute, she seemed to reach some sort of plateau, not really an orgasm, and then relaxed and came down. She pulled her pussy away from my face and stepped back slightly. She was looking down at me with an amazed expression on her face. Her lips were parted, she was breathing through her mouth, her eyes were very dark.

I turned off the tap and then sat her down facing away from me, my enraged cock was pushed up between my stomach and her back. I reached between her legs and started to finger her slit. Her clit was still full, a baby pee in the pod of her lips. I ran my finger down and pushed it into her tiny pussy. I pushed my finger into the first knuckle, moving it in and out while rubbing her clit. Then I pushed my finger deeper. Mewi pulled her knees up, spreading her legs farther apart. I pushed my finger deep into her pussy, past the half moon of her hymen and all the way to the bump of her cervix at the top of her vagina.

I finger fucked her with my right index finger while I rubbed her clit with my left. I could feel her orgasm building as her pussy tightened around my finger and her breathing became moans. She grabbed my hands and pushed my finger deep into her pussy as she groaned with orgasm. Her body shuddered, she kicked out with her legs and she pushed her head hard against my shoulder while waves of cumming washed over her little body.

We got out of the bath and dried off. My cock stayed firm. Mewi ran out of the bath and into my bedroom and jumped onto the bed. She rolled onto her back and pulled her knees up while propping herself up on her elbows. Her beautiful pussy was fully exposed to my view, dark red clit and inner lips framed by her black outer lips. The sight of her like this, with a brilliant smile on her face, made my cock come back up to full attention. I stood over her with my dick sticking out. I stroked as I looked down at her. I kneeled down on the floor and started licking her slit for a second time that evening. While I alternately teased her clit with my tongue and then pushed it as far as it would go into her vagina, I stroked myself. As the cum built, I straightened up. With me on my knees and Mewi on the bed, her little girl pussy was just at the level of my manhood. I started rubbing my cock along her slit, not pushing it into her pussy, but just fitting it into the opening before rubbing it up along her slit and over her clit. The sensation was marvelous, her juices were flowing copiously and mixing with my pre-cum. It was while doing this that I knew that I just had to cum in her cunt.

I moved faster and faster along her slit as she watch me and became more and more excited. When I would push my dick head against the opening of her cunt, it would accept just the tip of the head, forming a socket that would engulf only half of the mushroom end. The jiz built quickly, and just before I came, I pushed my tip into the socket and flooded her cunt with streams of cum. I could imagine my sperm juice pushing past her cherry and into her vagina, filling it. After the fourth or fifth shot, her vagina was full and jiz leaked around my cock and ran down her pussy. Her tiny five-year-old vagina was completely full of my sperm, more of it filled the cracks and crevices of her lips, white standing out against her black skin. I thought about the millions of my sperm swimming around inside a girl-cunt, desperately looking for an egg to join with. I suppose that a few even pushed past her cervix into her walnut sized womb, but they would find only an undeveloped little girl, there would be no egg to join with, no new baby to be born.

Her pussy was so cute, dripping with my load and Mewi's own cunt juices. I lay down next the her and finger fucked her again until she cried out in orgasm, waves of passion crashing over her for at least three minutes. She unconsciously humped against my hand as she came over and over again, finally dropping down, quiet. She hugged me tightly and fell asleep, her head on my shoulder, one hand on my other shoulder and her pussy pushed firmly against my right thigh.

The next day, I did not have to work so we spent the time together. We had breakfast and then sat on the sofa together and watched some morning cartoons. Sesame Street was new to her and captivated her for over an hour. I had not watched it in years and had some trouble following Big Bird and Elmo when they spoke in Shili. I changed the channel when Barney came on. I never could stand that damn fag lizard.

Toward mid morning we left the flat and went shopping. Colombo has one Western style shopping mall, and we went there. Mewi was totally awed. She stood in front of Victoria's Secret for quite a while, an incredulous look on her face. What really stands out in my mind, however, was what happened in a toy store. She walked around, her mouth agape. She didn't touch anything, just stared. When she confronted a wall lined with stuffed animals she just stood. She looked up at me and I nodded. She looked again at the wall and then walked over to a stuffed tiger, almost as big as she was. Again she looked back at me, this time a tear was working its way down her cheek. Again I nodded. She pulled the tiger down and hugged it. Now it was my turn to wipe a tear away from my cheek. Today, ten years later, that tiger is still in her room. He sits on her bed, a worn and much loved companion.

That evening, Mewi simply crawled into my bed, naked, and waited for me. I put the flat to rights, turned off the lights, and followed. Because it was so warm and humid, I lay down on top of the sheet, Mewi was under it. The rain continued to drum outside and occasionally a puff of wind would carry drops in the window. Some stuck to the mosquito netting which formed a canopy around the bed.

Mewi put her arms around my neck and snuggled up to me. I was on my back, she on her side, when she kissed me on the cheek. I turned toward her, took her tiny face in my hands and kissed her on the mouth. Just a short, gentle kiss. She pulled back and smiled. Then I pulled her to me again, but this time I gave her a more determined kiss. I pushed my tongue out and moved it along her lips. She parted hers and I gave her her first French kiss.

Mewi started breathing harder, and my heart was pounding, when I pushed my hand against her five-year-old slit, through the sheet. Somehow, the feeling was even more sexy through the thin fabric. She started stroking my dick which had come fully to life while we kissed. I pulled my hand away and pushed the covers off of her, then went back to finger-fucking the gorgeous preteen. Soon, she was rolling with orgasm.

While she came, squeezing my finger with her five-year-old cunt, she had stopped her ministrations to my enraged cock. After her shuddering had passed, she started stroking me again. I could see her looking at me in the dim light. I reached up and gently pushed her head down toward my tool. She moved easily, laying her head on my belly. She must have been looking straight at my cock as she milked it with both hands. I pushed a little on the back of her head and then felt her lips move around my cock head, pulling it into her warm moist mouth. She sucked and I slowly pushed my hips forward, then pulled back. Mewi got the idea and climbed up onto her hands and knees. In the darkness, I could watch my dick slide in and out of her mouth. She could take the head and about an inch, then pulling back until only the tip was between her lips, then she would push down again, taking me to the back of her throat. As she bobbed, the pressure built in me. She seemed to take cues from me, sensing from the involuntary movements of my hips. After just a short time I was overwhelmed and blasted my cum into her mouth. Mewi just grunted when the first shot filled her oral cavity, but she did not pull away. She continued sucking as I fired five or six streams of jiz into her mouth. When I pushed deep into her mouth, against the back of her throat, I could feel the contractions of her throat as she repeatedly swallowed my cum.

When she let my spent cock fall from her mouth, I could see drops of my white sperm on her lower lip and chin. She leaned down and wiped her face on my belly, then launched herself on top of me. I gave her a deep kiss, tasting my own cum in her mouth. When she giggled, she truly had "cum breath." We cuddled, Mewi laying on top of me, and drifted off to sleep. A while later, I woke up because I had to piss. Mewi was still laying on top of me, snoring gently. She had drooled on my chest. It was now a bit cool to not have any covers, and when I returned from the bathroom, we curled up like spoons under the sheet. In her sleep, she pushed closer to me as an electrical storm crashed outside the window and rain thundered.

As time went by, Mewi generally slept with me, but we only occasionally made love (I'm not sure what the correct term for the foreplay and oral sex we had is, some would call it molestation, others, child rape, for us it was a mutual sharing of pleasure and love). I never initiated our love making, not wanting to force her into anything she did not want, but we would still make love once or twice a week. Usually, she would be sleeping before I climbed into bed, then she would just snuggle. Occasionally she would start by kissing me deeply and letting me know, through her looks, that she wanted more. She would come to me with a certain smile. She sometimes would call me into the bathroom when she was bathing...

Part 2